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CYCLOPEDIA 
 
 OP 
 
 MORAL AND RELIGIOUS 
 
 ANECDOTES: , 
 
 A COLLECTION OF 
 
 SEVERAL THOUSAND FACTS, INCIDENTS, NARMmES 
 EXAMPLES, AND TESTIMONIES, ^,? 
 
 EMBRACmG THE 
 
 BEST OF THE KIND IN MOST FORMER COLLECTIONS, AND SOME HUNDREDS 
 IN ADDITION. ORIGINAL AND SELECTED. 
 
 THE WHOLE ARRANGED AND CLASSIFIED ON A NEW PLAN 
 
 WITH COPIOUS TOPICAL AND SCRIPTURAL INDEXES. 
 
 PASTOR OF THE PROVIDENCE CHURCH, NEW-YORK. 
 
 BY REV. E. ^RVINE, A.M., 
 
 PROVIDENCE CHUB 
 
 I 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BY' REV. GEORGE B. CHEEVER, D.D^ 
 
 JNEW-YORK: 
 
 LEAVITT, TROW & COMPANY, 191 BROADWAY. 
 
 1848. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, 
 
 By LEAVITT, TROW & COMPANY, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-YorK. 
 
 ♦ . * / 
 
i- 
 
 INTKODUCTION 
 
 (The importance of illustration fcrthe purpose of enforcing truth is so obviouS; ^ 
 that it seenis a worlr of supererogation to say one word concerning it. Much has 
 been said in books of rhetoric in regard to the use of figures, tropes, metaphors, 
 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 
 j)reacher ought, therefore, to endeavor to personify, 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 aide 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 I6st on the 
 other side. 
 
 Barbed arrows are good, not for the purpose of inflicting unnecessary pain, 
 but drcompelling 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 off, 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 fiiTf' 
 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 
 the midst of his sermon, the preacher, being about to enunciate an important 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 text, raised his voice, exclaiming, " Mark ! Mark ! Mark !" 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 
 
 , peace !" 
 
 . Now a forcible illustration, a vivid, or pathetic, or exciting apologue, or in- 
 ; -Jt' 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 sen<fe4he 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 
 i^''^ necessary for the hearers of sermons. Although they may have forgotten the 
 textj the subject, and almost the whole design of the preacher; they will not un- 
 J frequently carry away the illustrations, and every thing in the train of thought 
 \ \ lying immediately in their neighborhood. And, indeed, a single illustration will 
 '; J^« sometimes flash the meaning of a whole sermon upon minds that otherwise would 
 •^ \ have departed scarcely knowing the application of a sentence. 
 f^ Unfortunately, some men are so habitually destitute of any thing approximat- 
 1 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 ? 
 
 The hearers of the gospel, 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- 
 mon. 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 ; 
 hut the cool of the 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. 
 
 Now 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 accofnplished, simply by repeating that same 
 message, none can tell. Sometimes, when we come upon such landing-places 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in 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. It 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 
 illustralions; -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. E<^ry countenance is lighted up with expectation, every mind is on the Jfa. 
 alert, every ear is open and attentive. Even if the preacher simply says. We 
 wiTi 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 
 iiaving 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 suncositions are made, and fables are related, to illustrate ) '" 
 and enforce truth, to give ii 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 treas-ure 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 thy soul shall be required of thee ! what 
 conscience could remain unmoved ? Jf may have been under some such 
 application, that Joseph of Arimathea himself was arrested and brought to re- 
 pentance. 
 
 The hearers of our blessed Lo^ were so deeply interested and absorbed in 
 such narratives, that sometime;? 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 odQ of his parables with the declaration. Lord, he hath 
 ten pounds already ! Oiie 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 wasXi'iQ, taken out of the form 
 of abstract truth, and dramatized for tlieir 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, v 
 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 persuasTon d^ a mind. .glowing under the excitement/ 
 
 7 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 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 funcf "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 another 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 illustption, 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 thai 
 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, ssays 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 WhIteiieMrv 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 fiillen under his own observation, or had been 
 related to him by others. He brought out the meaning of them, and traced 
 8 
 
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 afterwardsj on hearing Mr. Whitefield 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 Whitefield 
 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 Whitefield, amidst all the thunder of a voice that could be heard 
 to an incredible distance, spake with the tones of the soul; and his gestures 
 were impelled by the same spontaneous, magic influence, 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. 
 
 .A nd yet it _is said that Whitefield, when a boy, had., been taught to ridicule -J 
 this way..Qf 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 Whitefield'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 Whitefield can now 
 tell stories, as well as ojd Cole." Some of young Whitefield'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 mere lumber-room 
 of the memory. 
 
 This alchemy of fervent love to Christ and to souls, this power of intense'^-^ 
 religi6irs~1eeTing, 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 thought ; 
 and true religious feeling, in a well disciplined mind, produces 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. 
 
 The desire to be tickled is not confined to the dissipated readers of a trifling 
 literature. Sometimes, the preacher becomes to the congregation "as a very 
 lovely song of one that hath 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 lyre 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 
 
 9 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 clothed 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 doctrines 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 
 yieloquence. The trite old rhetorical maxim, Ars est celare arlerriy is only a piece 
 y 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 like waters afi;er 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 truth 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 unruffled 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, eveiy 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 family 
 fireside. 
 
 The use of the pictorialy whether in words or engravings, is an element of 
 ^indispensable importance and incalculable power. The enemies of God, of the 
 r truth, and of the soul, employ it with dreadful art and energy for the destruction 
 vM of men in sin, for awakening and depraving the passions, and then supplying 
 j them with pernicious gratifications and fiery stimulants. Let good men take the 
 1 art of illustration, and use it for God, for heaven, for the salvation of the soul. 
 L GEORGE B. CHEEVER. 
 
 New-Yorki January 26, 1848. 
 10 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Origin and Design of the Work. — One of the best meai^ which I have found to Y\ 
 fasten moral and rehgious 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 / 
 rigUly 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, r have devoted much time and pains for two or three years past, to the preparation of 
 the present work. 
 
 Character of the Work. — The anecdotes, incidents, and historical sketches, here 
 assembled, are moral and religious ; 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 trutlia,, they prove or exemplify, are, I trust, rendered more clear and -'C, 
 distinct to the mind. (^1 strictly sectarian anecdotes have been avoided. The writer has ffel 
 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 of the Work. — 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 pubUshed_ byJheLondon 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 I 
 have received from him some valuable suggestions and friendly encouragement in the pre 
 paration of this work. 
 
 17 
 
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 Har- 
 binger, and others which it is needless to mention. Magazines, biographies, and similar 
 works have likewise been consulted. New anecdotes ha^•e also been furnished by clergy- 
 men 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 difficulties ; 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- 
 tical 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 in the prosecution of my labors. 
 
 K. ARVINE. 
 
 Nevj'York, January 14, 1848. 
 
CYCLOPEDIA 
 
 OF 
 
 MORAL AND RELIGIOUS ANECDOTES, 
 
 ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS. 
 
 1. The Pecuniary Advantage of Total 
 Abstinence. 
 
 (a) " THERE GOES A TEETO- 
 TALER !" — A drunkard assailed a 
 Washingtonian, but could only say, 
 " There goes a teetotaler !" The gentle- 
 man waited until the crowd had collected, 
 and then, turning upon the drunkard, 
 said, " There stands a drunkard ! — 
 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 ! — Three years ago he had a 
 watch, a coat, shoes, 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 : and here 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. 
 
 (h) 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. Id. per annum, and which in 
 four years would amount to £30 8s. 4d. 
 He would noAv 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 
 13 
 
ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS. 
 
 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 ; medicine 
 and medical attendance were included 
 in the arrangement. Reader, how much 
 may be done with fivepence a day ! 
 
 (c) 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 
 pledge 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 off* drinking so 
 suddenly ? I wonder you have lived as 
 long as you have. — Come, what will 
 you take ?" and suiting the action to 
 the word, he placed a decanter before 
 him. 
 
 " 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 ; 
 14 
 
 " if you go on as you have done, you 
 will not live another year." 
 
 " Do you really think so, landlord ?" ' 
 
 " Certainly. Come, what will you 
 take ?" 
 
 " Oh no, landlord ; I have signed the 
 pledge again, and then this terrible lump 
 on my side. I do not believe that drink- 
 ing will make it any better." 
 
 " It is all," 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 pledge, 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 pledged 
 This is what you would have had, 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 !" 
 
 (d) 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 paid his rent and bought a new 
 suit of clothes 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. 
 
 I 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 Uncas. One 
 of the last was Zachary ; but he was a 
 
THE ONLY SAFE GROUND. 
 
 3 
 
 great drunkard. But a sense of the 
 dignity of his office came over him, and 
 he resolved he would drink no more. 
 .Tust 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 tell you that I am an Indian ! 
 I tell you that I am ; and that if I 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 good resolution. 
 
 (b) 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 of intemperance. His friends per- 
 suaded him to come under a written 
 engagement, that he would not drink, 
 except moderately, in his own house, or 
 the house of a friej^d. 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 aflerwards, and was strong 
 and well. 
 
 (d) ORIGIN OF MAHOMET'S 
 PROHIBITION 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, looked 
 with disgust upon him, and then passed 
 15 
 
ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS. 
 
 on. At length, one entered who was 
 acquainted with him, and after looking 
 at him for a moment 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 William 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 place to go — he 
 knew not 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 Somers 
 had died on the previous day at the 
 Alms House from the effects of intem- 
 perance ! 
 
 (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. We entered into conversation 
 16 
 
 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 liiile brandy and water. On perceiv- 
 ing this, with an air of surprise he cried, 
 — 'What! my brother, what's that?' 
 ' It's brandy,' said I ; ' my digestion is so 
 bad, I am obliged to take a little afte.* 
 dinner.' ' Flow much do you take V 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 take 
 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 lUtJe 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. 
 
 t Only those who totally abstain exert a 
 good influence over the Intemperate, or 
 command respect as Christians. 
 
 (a) A DISTILLER HOOKED.— A 
 
 Washingtonian in Pennsylvania says, 
 " I went to see a distiller and^ffered him 
 the pledge to sign. ' No, sir,' said he, 
 ' I manufacture the article, and do you 
 suppose I would sign ? I'll tell you 
 what I'll do,' said he ; ' I have a son, and 
 I should 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 
 
INFLUENCE AND RESPECT. 
 
 that ? " 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 
 his father's name to it, and he signed it 
 directly. 
 
 (b) WILLIAM LADD AND HIS 
 WINE. — 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 New- 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 unadulterated juice 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 oppose rs 
 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 
 2 
 
 distant part of the house, and merely 
 said, ' Ha, if the squire '11 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 bv our practice. 
 
 (c) 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 !" 
 
 '•What, sir! How is that?" 
 
 " Why, gin it please ye, dinna ye aye 
 take a glass o' whisky and water afler 
 dinner ?" 
 
 " Why yes. Jemmy, surely I take 'a 
 little whisky after dinner merely to aid 
 digestion." 
 
 " An dinna ye take a glass o' whisky 
 toddy every night before ye gang to bed V 
 
 "Yes, to be sure, I just take a little 
 toddy at night to help me sleep !" 
 
 " Weel," continued the parishioner, 
 " that's jist fourteen 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 for a week ; — now ye see the 
 only difference is, ye ti7ne it better than 
 I do!" 
 
 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 
 WITH HYPOCRISY. 
 
 17 
 
 -It is a fact, of 
 
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 
 egainst him by opposers, that he had no 
 religion, and that the purchase of the 
 whisky proved his hypocrisy ! 
 
 (e) 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," 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 ?" 
 
 -" Yes." 
 
 " Well, then I will join to-day, for I 
 •can do without liquor as long as Deacon 
 Barnes can." 
 
 18 
 
 He did join, and remained a consis- 
 tent temperance man afterwards. 
 
 4. Illustrious Examples of Total Absti- 
 nence. 
 
 (a) REFUSING TO DRINK WINE 
 WITH 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 Washington 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 officer, and a murmur of sur- 
 prise and horror ran around thg room. 
 That a person should be so unsocial and 
 so jnean 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. tor 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 sufficient reasons." 
 
 {h) REV. JOSEPH WOLF AND 
 THE RECHABITES.— The Rev. Jo- 
 seph Wolf says : — On my arrival in 
 
ILLUSTRIOUS EXAMPLES. 
 
 Mesopotamia, some Jews that I saw 
 there, pointed me to one of the ancient 
 RechabitGs. 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 
 having proclaimed to him the tidings of 
 salvation, and made him a present of the 
 Hebrew and Arabic Bibles and Testa- 
 ments, I asked him, — '' Whose descend- 
 ant are you ?" 
 
 " 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 ?" said I. 
 
 Turning to Genesis x. 27, he replied, 
 " At Hadoram, now called Simar by the 
 Arabs : at Uzal, now called Sanan by 
 che Arabs;" and again referring to the 
 same chapter, verse 30th, he continued, 
 •' At Mesha, now called Mecca, in the 
 deserts around those places. We drink 
 no wine, and plant no vineyard, and 
 sow 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 
 lefl 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 tlie 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." 
 
 (d) AN EXAMPLE FOR YOUTH. 
 — A little boy in destitute circumstances 
 was put out as an apprentice to a me- 
 
 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 ; 
 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 the older 
 apprentices, we are informed, is a drunk- 
 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 dejiree salu- 
 tary, 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 weifjht of glorv. 
 
 (^0 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 
 pledge. After reading it he said, 
 
 '' That is the thing that will save our 
 country — I will sign it !" 
 
 " No," said one, " you must not sign 
 it, because ardent spirit is necessary foi 
 you as a medicine." 
 
 " 1 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!" 
 
 " Then," says another, " you will 
 die." 
 
 " Well, " 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 whan he had renounced the 
 
 one, he was relieved of the other. So 
 
 it probably would be in nine cases out 
 
 19 
 
5 
 
 ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS. 
 
 of ten where this poison is used as a 
 medicine. 
 
 (f) NOT OLD ENOUGH TO 
 NEED IT.— 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 
 temperate 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. When it became 
 known that this hoary veteran of other 
 days 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." 
 
 5. Lessons from the Brntes. 
 
 (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- 
 land, 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. 
 
 " We all agreed, six of us, that we 
 would come to the tavern next day, and 
 get Jack drunk again, and have sport 
 20 
 
 all day. I called at my friend's housu 
 next morning, and we went out for Jack. 
 Instead of being as usual on his box, he 
 was not to be seen. We looked inside, 
 and he was crouched up in a heap. 
 * Come out here,' said his master. Jack 
 came out on three legs ; his fore-paw 
 was upon his head. Jack had the head- 
 ache ; I knew what was the matter 
 with him. He felt just as I felt, many 
 a morning. Jack was sick and couldn't 
 go. So we wailed three days. We 
 then went, and while drinking, a glass 
 was provided for Jack. But where was 
 he ? 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." 
 
 (h) AS DRUNK AS A BEAST.— 
 While Dr. Patton was dining in Lon- 
 don with a number of the clergy, one 
 of them remarked, after turning otT his 
 glass of wine, "I do not think I am 
 called upon to give up my glass of wine 
 because some mm, by 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 to 
 
LESSONS FROM THE BRUTES. 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) "DOTH NOT EVEN NA- 
 TURE HERSELF TEACH?"— -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 ?" 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 difficulty. 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 ijlowed at it, as though he thought 
 it rather too hot, and seemed to say, 
 "What's this?" Next he drove his 
 cow to the trough, to see if she liked it 
 any better. The cow snuffi^d 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 bed-room, to taste. Piggy 
 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 — With 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." 
 
 {d) 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. When it came up in the 
 spring, the crows seemed determined on 
 its entire destruction. When 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 
 whicii he soaked a ^qw 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 ! When 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 difficult 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 
 
ACTORS. 
 
 6. ACTORS. 
 
 (a) WORKING 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 
 public cnaracters pointed out to him. 
 Amongst the rest, a celebrated comedian 
 was noticed. " Ah," said Mr. L., " is 
 
 that , my old school-fellow ? I'll 
 
 speak to him." He accosted him, and 
 the following conversation took place. 
 
 Lmnell. 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. Wliat ! are you Samuel Lowell ? 
 
 L. Yes, I am. 
 
 P. Well, I am very glad to see you ; 
 now tell me your histor}'- 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 fool, to jjlease 
 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, 1 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- 
 lar anecdote is related of a well-known 
 English buffoon, who consulted an Eng- 
 
 22 
 
 lish physician, celebrated for eccentric 
 advice. 
 
 (c) DEATH 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. 
 
 (d) THE ACTOR STABBING 
 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. J. J. Mc- 
 LaUghlin, formerly of Hopkinsville, Ky., 
 was engaged to act the part of Bertram, 
 wliose 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 
 identification 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 
 
AFFECTION, CONJUGAL. 
 
 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 : — 
 [ With a burst of exultation,'] 
 
 ' I died no felon's death — 
 A warrior's weapon freed a warrior's soul.' 
 
 While he was pronouncing 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 
 House 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, he 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 seekcomfort in a husband 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. 
 
 {h) 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. W., 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. W. received 
 a musket-ball "above the temples, which 
 penetrated nearly through his skull, 
 carrying a part 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 trying 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 friendly office of 
 burying him, and carried him 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 
 
AFFECTION. 
 
 him as they only can love, and friends 
 devoted to him ; ihe 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 which 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 hastencjd 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 ? Throwinsf 
 herself into a conveyance, and paying 
 four 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 
 24 
 
 truth in so fearful a moment, was sent 
 by his judges to the count, to show their 
 sense of his wife's admirable conduct. 
 
 (e) 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 remon- 
 strances of many, 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 
 fmd the remains of her beloved Willy ; 
 believing him, fi*om his unusual and 
 alarming absence, to have perished in 
 the hard weather. Upon the instanta- 
 
AFFECTION, FILIAL— EXEMPLIFIED. 
 
 8 
 
 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 hands, in all the 
 fervor of piety, and raising her eyes to 
 heaven, blessed her God for her deli- 
 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 ! What an inspiring 
 instance of conjugal tenderness ! — Could 
 Cornelia or Portia have done more ? 
 
 (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 
 m exchange, and came home on foot, 
 bringing his saddle back with him. 
 
 (g) THE SHAWNEE'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." 
 
 (A) A GOOD WIFE— The 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 £650, after a few remarks he 
 turned to Mr§. 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- 
 sure, 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 A\ith her in the way ever- 
 lasting." 
 
 8. Affection, Filial— Exemplified. 
 
 (a) ALEXANDER AND HIS MO- 
 THER. — Olympias, the mother of 
 Alexander, was of so very unhappy 
 and morose a disposition, that he could 
 not employ her in any of the afTairs 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 ?" 
 
 {b) 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 him 
 25 
 
AFFECTION. 
 
 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 pro- 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 26 
 
 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 separated 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 fiither, 
 and, with the familiar and endearing 
 expression he was accustomed to, bade 
 him " good nignt," loosed his hold, and 
 deliberately lesigned himself to death. 
 The father lived ; and the name, at 
 least, of Henry Hock, the son, must 
 live also. 
 
 (/) THE BEST PRESENT.— 
 The three sons of an eastern lady were 
 
AFFECTION, FILIAL— REWARDED. 
 
 9 
 
 invited to furnish her with an expression 
 of their love, befc#e she went a long 
 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: 
 " Mother, 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 
 you wherever you repose." 
 
 is) ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSOxN'S 
 AFFECTION.— 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 house 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. 
 
 {h) 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 suffer 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 
 
 this all your store ? And do you offer 
 a share to one you do not know ? Then 
 I never saw charity before ! But, ma- 
 dam, do you not wrong your children, 
 by giving a part of your last morsel to 
 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 night 
 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 ! O my mother V 
 
 It was indeed her long lost son, 
 returned from India. He had chosen 
 this Avay to surprise his family, and 
 certainly not very wisely ; but never 
 was surprise more complete, or more 
 joyful. He was able to make the family 
 comfortable, which he immediately did : 
 the mother living for some years longer, 
 in the enjoyment of plenty. 
 
 9. Affection, Filial— Rewarded. 
 
 (a) 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 hei 
 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 dis- 
 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 
 tJ-iumvir, 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, 
 for 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- 
 preme honors of the state. 
 
 (c) THE JUDGE OFFERING TO 
 DIE WITH 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, Metellus, oppressed with 
 years and infirmities, disfigured with a 
 long beard, a neglected head of hair, 
 and tattered clothes. The son of this 
 Metellus was one of the judges ; but it 
 was with great difficulty he knew his 
 
 28 
 
 father in the deplbrable 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 offi- 
 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 be 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 
 a pirate, 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 
 
AFFECTION, FILIAL— REWARDED. 
 
 threw 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, by 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 moat, 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) FREDERIC 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 king. The page was at a loss how 
 to excuse himself; and putting his hand 
 into his pocket by chance, to his utter 
 astonishment, he 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. " What is the matter ?" 
 " Ah ! sire," said the young man, 
 throwing himself on his knees, " some- 
 body seeks my ruin ! 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 that I 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 
 
AFFECTION. 
 
 deserved it was generous and disinter- 
 ested. "Of what avail," exclaimed 
 he, " could the most exalted title be 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 office. 
 
 (/i) 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?" "By spinning." 
 " How much does she gain daily by it ?" 
 " Sixpence." " But she cannot live 
 well on that ?" " In Pomerania it is 
 cheap living." "Did you never send 
 her any thing ?" " 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. 
 
 (i) 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. 
 30 
 
 They were so pleased with the honesty 
 and frankness jf the man, that they all 
 agreed to grant his request, except one ; 
 this was his chief creditor, a proud and 
 haughty merchant, who had never felt 
 any adversity, and knew not how to 
 sympathize with the afflicted. " So," 
 said he, " I find, by your asking for a 
 prolongation/ of credit, and a further in- 
 dulgence of goods, that you are going 
 down hill ; and therefore I am resolved 
 to have my money." Accordingly, he 
 sent immediately for an officer, 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 child;*en : 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, flew 
 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 
 
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'll settle upon 
 you all my fortune ; I'll release your 
 father out of prison, and make you all 
 happy togethei'." 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- 
 proached 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 for 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 
 motiier : 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. 
 fleeting 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. 
 
 (k) GUSTAVUS AND THE PEA- 
 SANT 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. Without 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 benefactress, 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 
 
AFFECTION. 
 
 but, even if I were, I could not for an 
 instant hesitate." 
 
 " And why ?" rejoined the king, 
 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 
 afflicted 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 addedy 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- 
 sciousness 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. Good-bye, 
 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. 
 
 (I) THE 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. 
 32 
 
 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 En- 
 gland, to whom he had been accustomed 
 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 JCIOO 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) TH'E 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 reproached 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. 
 Isert, 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 
 ease and comfort ; they, therefore, re- 
 solved to accompany him. They proved 
 
AFFECTION, FRATERNAL. 
 
 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 rescrt 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 
 justice to them to say, that they reflect- 
 ed honor on their rank, rather than de- 
 rived any from it. 
 
 (o) THE POOR SERVANT AND 
 HER AFFLICTED PARENTS.— 
 A female servant, who was past the 
 prime 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 wonderful 
 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. 
 
 (p) WASHINGTON'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 
 WOUNDED 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. 
 (b) 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 
 S3 
 
10,11 
 
 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, 
 (c) THE BROTHERS AND THE 
 SNOW-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 over- 
 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 light 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. His body lay in the 
 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 difficulties 
 of the way, could induce him to cast off 
 84 
 
 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. 
 
 11. Affection, Maternal. 
 
 (a) A MOTHER'S SACRIFICE.— 
 Joanna Martin, the wife of a day-labor- 
 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 nriy cottage ; 
 which, though I say it myself, is a very 
 tight little place." 
 
 She afterwards 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- 
 
AFFECTION, MATERNAL. 
 
 11 
 
 rental affection animate the heart ! How 
 much may be done by a person under 
 the influence of industry, temperance, 
 and piety ! 
 
 (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 
 around 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 ? No : 
 she entered upon the arduous and sa- 
 cred duties of her station. She felt that 
 tliere 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. With such 
 energy did her dut}^ to her desolate 
 babes 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. 
 
 (c) 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." 
 
 (d) THE SLAVE MOTHER 
 CROSSING THE OHIO.— We 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 ? Trusting 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 ? 
 
 (e) " THE MOTHER'S ROCK."— 
 Humboldt, in his celebrated travels, tells 
 35 
 
11,12 
 
 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 Ternie 
 rivers, a high rock — called the " Moth- 
 er's Rock." 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 Negro, 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 efibrt 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 Rock !" 
 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 
 kind of stable. The night was pro- 
 foundly dark, and it was in the midst of 
 the rainy season. She was now full 
 
 seventy-five miles from her three chil- 
 dren in a straight line. Between her 
 and them lay Ibrests 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 ! 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 profesa 
 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 ! 
 
 12. 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. Wait," said the 
 hero, " 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." 
 
 {h) SOCRATES' REPLY TO 
 ALCIBIADES. — Socrates was once 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 12,13 
 
 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 
 child. 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." 
 
 (c) 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, he 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 mora? 
 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. H^ grew up, and be- 
 came one of the most distinguished 
 Christians of America. 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 U, 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 hold- 
 ing it with a convulsive grasp. 
 
 " You are a father," said the afflicted 
 parent, " or I should 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 ? 
 And I see he has not. No ; God has 
 not forgotten you." 
 37 
 
13 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 These were the sentiments of Rich- 
 ard Cecil on the design of affliction ; 
 and his friend, Thomas Williams, 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." 
 
 (b) MR. DOD AND HIS PERSE- 
 CUTIONS.— While the eminent Puri- 
 tan minister, Mr. Dod, resided at Han- 
 well, (Eng.) he was the subject of much 
 persecution and sorrow. Going once 
 to see his relative, the Rev. Mr. Green- 
 ham, of Diy-Dpiyton, and lamenting 
 the state of his mind to him, the worthy 
 minister replied, " Son, son, when afflic- 
 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 afflictions are spiritual promotions." 
 
 (e) NOW HAVE I KEPT THY 
 WORD. — 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, 1 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 afflicted I went astray, but now have 
 I kept thy word.' And I hope I can 
 say that I am now returned to the Shep- 
 her(i and Bishop of souls," 1 Pet, ii. 25. 
 
 (d) SAVED BY A DISEASED 
 LIMB. — 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. When this 
 was done, " There," said the young man, 
 " there it is, and a precious treasure it 
 38 
 
 has been 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." 
 
 (d) 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, if I 
 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." 
 
 if) OWEN ON FORGIVENESS.— 
 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, and 
 under which my soul was oppressed 
 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, and I preached thereupon 
 after my recovery." 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 13 
 
 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 
 travellinfj on business amonij the Ger- 
 mans in the interior of Pennsylvania, 
 when he was prostrated on his bed with 
 a dangerous disease — hundreds of miles 
 from home, " a stranger in a strange 
 land." When 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 chafi. He rea- 
 soned from effect to cause. " Embrac- 
 ing these new sentiments has evidently 
 brought my mind into this wretched con- 
 dition ; and as the fruit is bad, the tree 
 must be bad 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 honre, rejoicing to tell his 
 
 friends what God had done for his soul. 
 And that young man, my hearers, is 
 preaching to you to-day ! 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. 
 
 (h) 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- 
 pensi\ 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 
 mother'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 
 
13 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 The only remaining child, her oldest 
 son, who had come home from college 
 to attend his sister's funeral, wont 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 
 
 hh 
 
 What 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 motlier her husband 
 and all her children were now taken 
 away. Reason returned, and she was 
 led to reflection. She saw her dreadful 
 backslidings, her pride, her rebellion ; 
 and she wept with the tears of a deep 
 tepentance. Peace was restored to her 
 soul. Then would she lift her hands to 
 heaven, exclaiming, " 1 thank thee, O 
 Father ! The Lord hath given, the 
 Lord hath taken away, and blessed be 
 the 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." 
 
 (z) 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. What 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 
 being wet by the rain, the gun did not 
 go off, and the merchant, giving spurs 
 to his horse, fortunately had time to 
 escape. 
 
 As soon as he found himself safe, he 
 said to himself: "How wrong was I, 
 40 
 
 not to endure the rain patiently as sent 
 by Providence. If the weather had 
 been dry and fliir, 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 afflictions ; by causing us 
 slight and short sufferings, they preserve 
 us from others far greater, and of longer 
 duration. 
 
 ( j) 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 favoralsly, 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. 
 
 (k) DIVINITY TAUGHT BY 
 AFFLICTION.— A minister was re- 
 covering of a dangerous illness, when 
 one of his friends addressed him thus : 
 "Sir, though God seems to be bringing 
 you up from the gates of death, yet it 
 will he a long time before you will suf- 
 ficiently 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." 
 (I) 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- 
 
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 V " Why 
 do you think so?" "Because the ser- 
 mon was more evangelical than he 
 usually preaches when he is in full 
 health." 
 
 {?n) 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- 
 hhj to blame in not procuring him a 
 situation in New-York, after I had no 
 longer occasion for his services. It was 
 indeed a mystery 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 might be .the last strivings of the 
 Spirit. With trembling he took his 
 place on the anxious 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 his 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 : " My 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- 
 mouniing, I should think, to jive dollars, 
 and I cannot rest until I have paid you 
 for them f .'" 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. 
 
 .a) GRATITUDE FOR SLA- 
 VERY. — In the Southern section of the 
 United States, an African slave, whose 
 name was Jenny, was observed to fail in 
 41 
 
14 
 
 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. Who will take 
 care of Jenny's baby when she is gone ?" 
 Such waj; 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 relief. 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 affliction ! Blessed 
 African ! 
 
 (h) 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 began to fail her, and in a 
 42 
 
 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, had 
 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, if 
 I had 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 !" 
 
 (c) THANKFUL FOR BLIND- 
 NESS. — 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." 
 
 (d) MARTIN LUTHER'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 
 
CONVERSION OF THE AGED. 
 
 14, 15 
 
 make 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 
 I now 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 caUed 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 oneof 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 ! 1 do not wish your babe to 
 suffer, but I am happy to find he gives 
 you this token of his favor." 
 
 if) 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 
 
 the weary and the heavy laden,) that 
 he was so impressed with a sense of the 
 benefit he had derive-d from his afflic- 
 tions, that lying on his death-bed and 
 seeing his master stand by, he eagerly 
 caught the hands of his oppressor, and 
 kissing them, said, " These hands have 
 brought me to heaven." Thus many 
 have had reason to bless God for afflic- 
 tions, as being the instruments in his 
 hands of promoting the v/elfare of their 
 immortal souls. 
 
 (g) THE ROAD TO HEAVEN.— 
 Mr. Benn, of Highgate, had long been 
 the subject of a severe affliction, 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. When 
 you are in pain or suffering, write upon 
 it, ' The road to Heaven.' " 
 
 AGED, THE. 
 
 15. Conversion of the Aged. 
 
 {a) THE YOUNG CONVERT 
 AND HIS AGED MOTHER.— At a 
 
 village, in the Hastings circuit, (says 
 the Wesleyan 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 
 
 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 sound of the 
 Gospel ; but her infirmities, and his 
 poverty, presented considerable difficul- 
 43 
 
15, 16 
 
 AGED— REVERENCE FOR THE. 
 
 ties. Slie 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. He 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. 
 
 {b) 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 wish I 
 could hear the man myself; do you 
 think I can ride as far '?" " Father," 
 said he, " if you will go to cousin W.'s 
 over-night, 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 
 44 
 
 hardness of his heart, though it seemej 
 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 I can 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. 
 
 (c) 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 I here 
 publicly state to you, that I do not be- 
 lieve I could enumerate three persons, 
 over fifty years of age, whom I have 
 ever heard ask the solemn and eternally 
 momentous question, ' What shall I do 
 to be saved?'" 
 
 16. Reverence 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 propert}'. 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 doino;. " I am makinfj 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. 
 
 {h) THE OLD WOMAN'S BLESS- 
 ING. — A gentleman was once passing 
 through a village, and happened to see 
 
AGENTS OF BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES. 
 
 16, IT 
 
 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 !" 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 
 tradesman. 
 
 (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 to fetch the rug 
 from my grandfather's bed, that he may 
 wrap it round him and go a-begging !" 
 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 PRINCESS.— 
 A Russian princess of great beauty, 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 beard of one of the doctor's 
 neighbors who was present. He offered 
 to bet twelve louis d'ors that no lady 
 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." 
 
 17. AGENTS OF BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES, 
 
 (a) THE SCOFFER CONFOUND. 
 ED. — When 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 travelling 
 expenses of its vaunted secretaries, aa 
 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 
 45 
 
17, 18 
 
 AMBITION. 
 
 that their services were gratuitous ; and 
 that, w ith 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- 
 ded, " one of them is now doing before 
 your eyes ?" Need it be added, that 
 both the fact and the tone in which it 
 was announced, with the friendly con- 
 versation that ensued, converted an ene- 
 my into a friend ? 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 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. 1 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 !" 
 
 (b) 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 ?" Pyrrhus, 
 not yet aware of his intentioas, 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 
 
 46 
 
 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 ?" Pyrrhus, smiling, answered, 
 " Why then, my dear friend, we will 
 live at our ease, drink all day long, and 
 amuse ourselves with cheerful conver- 
 sation." " Well, 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. 
 
 (c) 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 shall 
 find in that place the treasures of the pa- 
 sha, and arms for three hundred thousand 
 men. I will raise and arm the whole 
 of Syria, which is already greatly exas- 
 perated by the cruelty of Djezzar, for 
 
AMBITION. 
 
 IS 
 
 whose fall you have seen the people 
 supplicate Heaven at every assault. I 
 advance upon Damascus and Aleppo ; 
 I 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 
 overturn the dominion of the Mussul- 
 man ; I found in the East a new and 
 mighty empire, which shall fix my po- 
 sition with posterity ; and perhaps I 
 return to Paris by Adrianople or Vien- 
 na, having annihilated the house of 
 Austria." What a wide difference be- 
 tween what he then anticipated and 
 what he subsequently experienced ! 
 
 {d) NAPOLEON AND THE PEA- 
 SANT BOY.— When 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, 
 in the familiarity of an age which knows 
 so little distinctions, " Eat, sire ; it will 
 do you good." The emperor looked at 
 him, and asked, " Do you not belong to 
 Gonesse ?" (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. 
 
 (e) 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 v/ith the shattered remnant of his 
 army, he had taken up a position at 
 
 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 he 
 had experienced throughout the whole 
 course of his tempestuous career. 
 
 (/) THE ACCUSER'S FALL.— 
 One of Artaxerxes' favorites, ambitious 
 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 information 
 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 oflicer 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. 
 
 {^) A YOUNG LAWYER'S EX- 
 PERIENCE.— A correspondent of the 
 New- 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 
 47 
 
IS 
 
 AMBITION. 
 
 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 any thing, 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 ! 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 such a 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 !" The words 
 arrested his attention ; 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 
 WORTHLESS. " When all is gained, how 
 little then is won !" said he. " Yes, 
 how little ! O, what is it ? 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. When 
 all is gained, how little then is won! 
 And yet to gain that little how much is 
 lost ! Yes, How much is lost ! O, 
 how I have been laboring and suffering 
 for it ; I have 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 
 
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, 
 " VVhat signifies a man's trade 1 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." 
 
 (c) CICERO'S RETORT.— This 
 Roman orator was one day sneered at 
 by one of his opponents, a mean man of 
 noble lineage, on account of his low pa- 
 rentage. " You are the Jirst 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, 
 " wa^ the son of a fruiterer, Virgil of a 
 baker, Horace of a freed slave, Anayot 
 of a currier, Voiture of 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 upholsterer, 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 officer, 
 Collins of a hatter, Gray of a notary, 
 Beatlie 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 occa- 
 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 into the lower court. When 
 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 
 pedigree, go and fetch my night-cap." 
 
 (/) JAMES I. AND THE EARL'S 
 GENEALOGY.— King James I., in his 
 49 
 
20 
 
 ANGER— INDULGED. 
 
 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 that 
 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 
 doubtle^ 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 difliculty 
 restrained from killing himself, for that 
 fault which his sudden fury had led him 
 to commit. He seemed smitten with 
 remorse for the murder, and inconsola- 
 ble for the loss of his friend. 
 
 (b) VIOLENCE OF HEROD.— 
 The effect of indulging in anger is seen 
 in the case of Herod, the Tetrarch of 
 Judea. 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. 
 
 (c) THE BOYS AND THE BALL- 
 CLUB. — There 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 
 
 50 
 
 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 
 clui), 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 cut off 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, and 
 for a worthless object. Anger often 
 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 
 
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 list. This excited 
 Abel's wrath. They began to figRt — 
 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. He 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 pin ! 
 
 (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 soon became angry 
 
 and began to speak unkindly'. Eugene 
 said, " It is my turn to whirl the top." 
 " No, 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 ! 
 
 U. 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. When Nicetas 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 nigtit 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 in the most gentle 
 manner, exclaimed, " Father, I will be 
 ruled by you in this or any other mat- 
 ter." They embraced each other af- 
 fectionately, and settled the dispute in- 
 stantly. 
 
 (b) THE SUN IS ALMOST 
 DOWN. — Two good men on some oc- 
 casion had a warm dispute ; and remem- 
 bering the exhortation of the apostle, 
 " Let not the sun go down upon your 
 wrath," just before sunset one of them 
 went to the other, and knocking at the 
 
 51 
 
«1, 32 
 
 ANNIHILATION, 
 
 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 ! 
 
 (c) 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 ! Why, I 
 
 ^m 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 made sport of 
 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 hi» 
 work. 
 
 22. ANNIHILATIOIV. 
 
 (a) A TERRIBLE DOCTRINE 
 FOR THE DYING.— 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 
 seared. He now believed his former 
 state to have been hypochondriac, and 
 said, " Within one week after I detect- 
 ed my folly in being thus anxious for 
 52 
 
 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 cease 
 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 lefl him, 
 having in vain attempted to induce a 
 review of his decision. 
 
 His life, for years, was what might 
 be expected from his belief. He seemed 
 
ANTINOMIANISM. 
 
 583 
 
 io 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 
 now his beloved scheme of ceasing to 
 exist at death, became his terror, " And 
 have I," said he, " done with existence ? 
 shall I presently cease to think, to see, 
 to feel ? Am I to exist for a few mo- 
 ments filled with pain, and then lie down 
 to be nothing forever ? I am pained for 
 the fruits of my labor; I have labored 
 for nothing ; I cannot bid farewell to 
 ihe earnings of so many years," 
 
 On being told by one who did not 
 know his previous opinions, that he 
 certainly should exist ; and that the 
 future being of men was indicated by 
 nature, and made sure by Scriptural 
 evidence, an aspect of still greater hor- 
 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 passess- 
 €d, 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 eveiy 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 to 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 ; i 
 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,.!^ madnm, do you-iWl- yourself 
 as happy and as spiritual in your de-V 
 votional exercises, as you used to do V 
 She replied, "I have learned to live 
 without them." " But do you not pray 
 in your closet ?" " Pray," said she, 
 " What can I pray for?" Shocked at 
 her reply, he rejoined, "Do you not 
 pray to be favored with a sense of par- 
 doning mercy, and for grace to resist 
 sin ?" " 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 mv being kept from sin, I am 
 53 
 
23,2^ 
 
 ANTIQUITY. 
 
 sure God never designed that I should. 
 I am 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 
 
 *y discover one Scriptural evidence of her 
 interest in Christ. The injury she 
 had done to others, by the dissemination 
 of error, the prejudice thiit 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 afTecting 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 sense of moral obligation in her 
 mind ; and had deprived her of all holy 
 and spiritual enjoyment in religion. 
 
 (b) HILL AND THE ANTINO- 
 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 notions 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 
 Me 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 !" 
 
 24. ANTIQUITY. 
 
 (a) PRETENSIONS OF THE CHI- 
 NESE. — It is well known that the Chi- 
 nese 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 
 iadebted 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 
 54 
 
 s-un, moon, and several planets, rec^)rd- 
 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, an(i 
 a little afler 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 clironology of the 
 Scriptui'es. 
 
APOLOGIES— APOSTACY. 
 
 25,26 
 
 52. APOLOGIES. 
 
 (a) SWIFT AND THE LADY'S 
 DINNER.— A lady invited Dean Swift 
 to a most sumptuous dinner. She said, 
 " Dear Dean, this fish is not as good as 
 I could 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 
 distinguislied guest with apologies, only 
 to find a chance to display her vanity in 
 bringing her trouble and expense inta 
 view, until she exhausted his patience. 
 Fie 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." 
 
 (h) A SENSIBLE 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 siinple meal, such as was suitable 
 for Dr. D. and his mother. The old lady 
 did the honors of the table. The host 
 mad^ 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 if 
 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 
 I'leart 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- 
 f( ssion 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 intervalsof 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. But his, alas! was- 
 no the sorrow that worketh repentance 
 unto life ; it was the keen remorse, the 
 55 
 
APOSTACY. 
 
 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 ! 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 character of his un- 
 godly son. 
 
 These trying dispensations of Provi- 
 dence had no effect to rouse 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. 
 
 Not many weeks previous to the close 
 of this unhappy man's career, he entered 
 into conversation with an old friend, re- 
 specting his wicked course of life, and 
 remarked that he desired, above all 
 56 
 
 things, one circumstance to mark hia 
 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. ! 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 have 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 mysew. 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 that I 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. 
 
 (b) COMPANIONS OF J. A. JAMES. 
 — The Rev. J. A. James relates in his 
 " Anxious 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' 
 
APOSTACY. 
 
 26 
 
 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 a dan- 
 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. 
 
 (c) APOSTACY AND SUTCIDE.— 
 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 
 1G84. 
 
 {d) SPIRA'S DEATH-BED.— Fran- 
 cis 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 
 several eminent Christians, who con- 
 
 versed and prayed with him, but with- 
 out avail. He died in a state of the 
 most awful despaii*, declaring the im- 
 possibility of his finding mercy at the 
 hands of God. 
 
 (e) 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 Woolsey. 
 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. 
 
 (/) CRANMER'S UNWORTHY 
 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. 
 
 (^) APOSTACY DESTROYS THE 
 CONFIDENCE OF WORLDLY 
 MEN. — It is well known that Freder- 
 ick 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. While, 
 therefore, he sneered at Christianity, he 
 sometimes promoted to offices 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 
 
 57 
 
36 
 
 APOSTACY. 
 
 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 ? Well, 
 well ; only take care to do your duty, 
 and improve your men." 
 
 The king's common salutation after 
 this, was, " Well, how do you do ? how 
 are you going on in William-street ?" 
 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 
 to forsake the assemblies of his Christian 
 brethren ; and when reproved by his 
 minister, he said, " his heart was with 
 him, 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 
 I you been ill ?" " 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- 
 geant 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 
 withdrew, and on his return found his 
 58 
 
 sergeant waiting for the confirmation 
 of his appointment. " I do not know 
 what is the matter with the king to- 
 day," said the cononel, " 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 not know what 
 he means ; but I suppose you do." 
 Struck in a moment with the awful 
 impropriety of his 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." W 
 
 (h) A BACKSLIDER'S WRETCH- 
 EDNESS.— Dr. Doddridge was once 
 preaching on the calling and the glorious 
 hopes of the Christian. One of his 
 hearers, after the sermon, addressed 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 ?" 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. 1 was 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 
 prayed 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 anO 
 
APPLAUSE. 
 
 26, 2T 
 
 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- 
 
 j voidably expose me, greatly discouraged 
 
 j me. And I often used to tell an aged 
 
 j soldier of Christ, the first and only 
 
 I Christian friend I had any acquaintance 
 
 with for several years, that I wished 1 
 
 had borne the burden and heat of the 
 
 day like hwi. His usual reply was — 
 
 ' That so long as I feared, and was 
 
 humbly dependent upon God, I should 
 
 never fall, but certainly prevail.' 1 
 
 have tbund it so. O, blessed be the 
 
 Lord, that I can now raise up my Ebe- 
 
 nezer, and say, ' Hitherto hath the Lord 
 
 upheld me.'" 
 
 ( j) 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 altogether a 
 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. While 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 it strongly in- 
 dicated a violent agitation of mind ap- 
 59 
 
jjy, 98 
 
 ATONlixMSNT. 
 
 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 ! for what ?" inquired 
 the minister. " 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 Cometh from above, and verily, I 
 have my reward !" 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 
 
 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, 
 " No ;" 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." 
 (b) 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- -J 
 standing, to read on, and said that Plato 
 alone was audience sufficient for him. 
 
 28. ATONEMENT. 
 
 (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 a system 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 
 our 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 dnd hopes of man. For 
 my own part, I am now an old man, and 
 have experienced the infirmities of ad- 
 60 
 
 vanced years. Of late, in the course 
 of a severe and dangerous illness, 1 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 
 afflictions, 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." 
 (b) " THIS IS WIIATl WANT." 
 — A certain man, on the Malabar coast, 
 had inquired of various devotees and 
 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 for heal- 
 ing and strength. He undertook the 
 journey, and while he halted under a 
 
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 1 want ;" and 
 he became a lively witness, that the 
 blood of Jesus Christ 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, 
 vvho had embraced very erroneous views 
 of the 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 ?" " Your doctrine." " Why 
 is it that the doctrine is fit only for old 
 women ?" " 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, but is equal- 
 ly important at every age." 
 
 {d) GOD'S LOVE WONDERFUL. 
 — A missionary, addressing a pious ne- 
 gro woman, said, " Mary, is not the love 
 of God wonderful ?" 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." 
 
 (e) 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 now 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 herein I find rest." 
 
 (/) 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 ?" 
 
 " I am very happy," said Mr. H. 
 
 " Have you made your will ?" 
 
 Mistaking the question — " The will 
 of the Lord be done," said the dying 
 Christian. 
 
 " Shall I pray with you ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you can ;" alluding to Mr. 
 Wilks's feelings, at that moment con- 
 siderably excited. 
 
 After prayer, " Well, 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. 
 
 With a mighty and convulsive effort, 
 he replied, " A million !" 
 
 {g) COWPER'S EXPERIENCE.— 
 Cowper, the poet, speaking of his reli- 
 gious experience, says : " But the happy 
 period which was to shake off my fettera 
 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 ; ' Whom 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 
 
2§, 2D 
 
 AVARICE. 
 
 which was to the following effect : — 
 "Great God, t.by 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 ?" 
 
 (0 REV. MR. INNES AND THE 
 INFIDEL. — 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 ? Now what 
 reason have 1 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 difficulty 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, " Well, 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 got 
 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 monf y, 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 
 mammon, 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 
 62 
 
 chamber of her who conceived him. 
 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. " Well," 
 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 ! ! 
 Oh, the love of money, what has it not 
 done ; what will it yet do ! 
 
 {h) THE RICH MAN'S VICTORY. 
 — " I could mention the name of a late 
 
AVARICE. 
 
 dO 
 
 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 
 his affections. His stewards received 
 all, and retained all in their own hands 
 till they received orders how to dispose 
 of it." 
 
 (c) 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." 
 
 [d) 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. Friuli 
 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 cofTee-house, was 
 helped into his chariot (for he was then 
 very lame and infirm), and went home ; 
 some little lime 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 loss 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. 
 
 going down stairs to look for the key of 
 his cellar, which he had inadvertently 
 left on a table in his parlor; he was 
 appre-hensive 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 
 relatives. 
 
 (/) 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 incorrupt!- 
 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 atj^rury Lane, a .Few 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 ! 
 
 64 
 
 (h) THE MISER IN THE WELL. 
 — An old bachelor, possessed of a for- 
 tune of $50,000, meeting a friend onr 
 day began to harangue him very learn 
 ediy 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 !" 
 
 (0 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. With 
 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 ? No. — 
 Ten thousand? No. — Twenty thousand? 
 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, When 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." 
 
 (j) 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 • 
 
BALLS, &c.— INCOMPATIBLE WITH PRAYER. 
 
 29,30 
 
 but I cannot give such long credit." 
 Poor rich man f 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 provided ?" 
 
 (k) 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 a gentleman, 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 500/. 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 
 and cargo to the value of 15,000/. 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. " 
 
 (/) "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, ofiered 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. 
 
 SO. They arc Incompatible with Prayer. 
 
 (a) THE BALL AND THE MIN- 
 ISTER. — 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. 
 When 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. 
 65 
 
30 
 
 BAL 
 
 OH PUCLIC DANCES. 
 
 (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 
 lodgings. Weary 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 !" 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 !" 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. Will you all join in 
 prayer with me ?" 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 floor. 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 !" O, had we more faith and 
 intrepidity, what good we might do ! 
 How glorious to attack and drive the 
 devil from his 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. Not 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 exer- 
 cises of the evening. When the com- 
 66 
 
 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 invitation 
 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. 
 
 [d) 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 ofi*spring 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. 
 
THEY DEADEN NATURAL SENSIBILITY. 
 
 31 
 
 (e) 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 wav to 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 
 tlie 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 
 tlie 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 hall was 
 got 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 — he 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 
 
 brow 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 
 
 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. With 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 partner, stood near him bathed 
 in tears. They left the room together, 
 and not long afterwards, she was led to 
 the foot of the cross, having been first 
 awakened by her partner's prayer on 
 the hall-room 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 New- York. 
 
 %\, They Deaden IVatnral Sensibility, L^ 
 
 (a) A CORPSE CARRIED TO A /^ 
 BALL. — A writer in the New-York 
 Observer, states that in the place where 
 he resided, in 1840, there was a New 
 Year bail. 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. 
 Not 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- 
 67 
 
31,32 
 
 BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES. 
 
 tended 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 
 qome to their door. 
 
 (h) 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. 
 While 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. 
 
 (c) 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 lay could be seen by every 
 dancej", and 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, 
 lo say nothing of their irreligious char- 
 acter and tendency ? 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 Mr. Fisk's observation while 
 68 
 
 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 others 
 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 wide-spread wretchedness, SheriflT 
 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 fall 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. 
 
 %l. They prevent Conversion and Ruin the 
 Soul. 
 
 (a) THE INQUIRY MEETING 
 AND THE BALL-ROOM.— A most 
 interesting work of grace once occur- 
 
THEY PREVENT CONVERSION AND RUIN THE SOUL. 
 
 red in the Houston-street Presbyterian 
 church, of the city of New-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 ? 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 are 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 dwellinsf, 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 coffin ! 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 ! 
 No light to cheer her in the last sad 
 hour! 
 
 {h) 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, '^ Well.^ 
 I will go if 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 des- 
 pair. 
 
 The wretched victim knew 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 paleness and 
 haggardness of decay. The wan and 
 69 
 
33 
 
 BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES. 
 
 sunken cheek, the ghastly glaring eye, 
 the emaciated limb, the sure precursors 
 of approaching dissolution, were there. 
 The caresses 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. When 
 1 entered the room where she was, and 
 beheld her pale and emaciated, and re- 
 flected that the ravages of her form wiih- 
 oul but faintly shadowed forth the wreck 
 and desolation within, 1 was almost over- 
 powered. Never had I conceived so 
 vivid an idea of the woe and misery of 
 those who have " quenched the Spirit." 
 I proposed prayer. The word threw 
 her into an agony. She utterly refused. 
 No 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 
 
 (c) 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 fiiith in Christ, when 
 70 
 
 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 mucii 
 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 please 
 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, " 1 dare not so word 
 my supplication. It is in compliance 
 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 docs 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 
 iliai 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 liim in 
 this trifle." " Oh, my daughter," said 
 
THEY PREVENT CONVERSION AND RUIN THE SOUL. 
 
 her 
 
 the widow, holding 
 
 let me not hear 
 
 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- 
 vert right reason, lest you add to your 
 Dwn 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 q,n imaginary neces- 
 sity, by which she suffered herself to 
 be controlled. Much admired, she was 
 so often solicited to dance that her 
 blood became painfully overlieated ; 
 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 !" 
 
 {d) 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 pleasure. 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 Ijrink of the grave ! 
 He was now overwhelmed with his re- 
 flections, and he resolved to enter at 
 
 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 up 
 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 lefl 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 he 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 effaced from 
 
 young G 's mind, and he entered 
 
 the illuminated festal hall that evening 
 with a light and bounding heart. But 
 the last call of God had indeed reached 
 his ear, and been rejected, and now he 
 was going like an ox 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 DANCES. 
 
 lifeless to the 
 
 denly drooped, and 
 'floor ! 
 
 (e) THE YOUNG LADY'S 
 CHOICE. — 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, 
 72 
 
 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 physician, "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 to 
 converse with him ; yet she requested 
 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 moaning 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 — Mary Ann, do tell me what 
 mean these unearthly groans which we 
 
BANKRUPTCY. 
 
 SS 
 
 hear from you ? — What is the matter, 
 my dear child ? 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 ache — such was its solemn in- 
 tensity — she said, with an audibleness 
 
 of her voice that utterly astonished us 
 all, ' Doctor, Doctor, there is a difference 
 between a life of amusement and a life of 
 prai/er. O, 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 HONEST DEBTOR.— 
 In the year 1805, a small tradesman, 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 obligations 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 proportion ably 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 by a handsome present. 
 
 (h) 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 propounded to his pastor this 
 
 question : If one had been involved and 
 had failed, and paid his debts by means of 
 the insolvent act, would he, on becoming 
 pious, feel constrained to pay up all he 
 owed ? He was answered, as he should 
 be, in the affirmative. But it was per- 
 ceived from Uiat moment that the man 
 was more than ever troubled, till, after 
 a conflict of several days, he threw oflT 
 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. 
 
 (c) THE HONEST INSOLVENT. 
 — 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 family — but 
 still he owed one of his former creditors ; 
 he was not satisfied to keep another's 
 property ; he made inquiry, and received 
 information that the party had died 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 {ew days since he remitted the whole 
 amount, principal and interest. 
 
 (d) FAILURE OF ROWLAND 
 FULL TO PRACTISE HIS OWN 
 ADVICE. — It was the custom of this 
 
 73 
 
33 
 
 BANKRUPTCY. 
 
 eminently useful minister, at tlie 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 afflictive 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 ; 
 then I return 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 
 was one that Mr. Hill was desirous to 
 
 oblige. The result was, he became one 
 of his securities and prevailed on a gen- 
 tleman ^^ Clapham to be the other ; and 
 the situation was obtained. Alas ! alas I 
 for poor Mr. Hill and his brother bonds- 
 man ! In three or four years, the col- 
 lector was a defaulter to the amount of 
 thousands. The securities were obliged 
 to pay. 
 
 (e) THE BANKRUPT'S ENTER- 
 TAINMENT.— 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 lis. to the 
 pound, formed a resolution, 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 difficulties, 
 (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- 
 ble 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 with heart-felt satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 74 
 
BEAUTY— BEGGARS— BEGGARY. 
 
 34, {I5 
 
 34. BEAUTY. 
 
 (a) THE 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." 
 
 (b) 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 
 manifested 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. What 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 ! Let 
 me see ; thou mayst take my wood that 
 Is in the yard, up stairs, and I will give 
 thee half a dollar." This tlie poor man 
 was glad to do, and the job lasted him 
 till about noon, when he came and told 
 him the work was done, and asked him 
 if he had any more to do. "Why 
 friend, let me consider," said the queer 
 Quaker: "Oh! thou mayst take the 
 wood down again, and I will give thee 
 another half dollar." 
 
 (b) OBERLIN'S METHOD.— 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, 
 if deserving, he never failed to receive. 
 " Why do you not work ?" was Ober- 
 lin's usual interrogation. " Because 
 no ohe will employ me," was the gene- 
 ral reply. " Well, then, I will employ 
 you. There — carry these planks — • 
 break those stones — fill that bucket with 
 75 
 
35,36 
 
 BENEFICENCE, 
 
 watei-j 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. 
 
 (c) THE MAYOR'S OPINION.— 
 At a meeting held in London, concern- 
 ing the houseless poor, the Lord Mayor 
 remarked, that he considered that one 
 of the greatest causes of vagrancy was 
 want of work. For the purpose of pre- 
 venting 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. " Well, 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 kw 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 coul^ 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 what I 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 proceeded 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 ofT 
 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. 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 36. Beneficence in Hazarding Life. 
 
 (a) WRECK OF THE BUTTON. 
 
 — 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 Button ? Susan (Lady 
 Exmouth) and I were driving to a dinner 
 7« 
 
 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 LIFE. 
 
 36 
 
 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. No 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 II., 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 
 the 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. 
 
 (c) THE AROYLESHIRE 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 oar 
 under the arm of the drowning man. He 
 committed himself instantly 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 
 picked up. 
 
 (d) 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 into the 
 impetuous torrent. In thih 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 oars, 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 DROWNING 
 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 aad pathetic 
 flow of eloquence, he exclaimed, "What ! 
 not even the servant of the Almighty ! 
 he whose tongue was engaged in the 
 work of charity, whose 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 Ihe 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 bov. 
 
 (f) MARTINEL'S ACHIEVE- 
 MENTS.— The life of adjutant Mar- 
 tinel is full of the most striking and 
 78 
 
 sublime exhibitions of a heroic and self- 
 denying benevolence. 
 
 In 1820, at Strasburg, a soldier fell 
 into the river 111, 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, m 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 info 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 follovving 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 
 
BENEFICENCE IN DYING FOR OTHERS. 
 
 S7 
 
 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 !" 
 His presence in the pov^der 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. 
 
 §7. Beneficence in Dying for Others. 
 
 (a) THE RUSSIAN DRUMMER. 
 — Many years ago, the Baschirs revolt- 
 ed. Near Krasno-Uffimske, 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 to pieces. His fate he 
 had foreseen, and therefore his voluntary 
 sacrifice was the more striking and 
 praise-worthy. 
 
 (b) THE HEROIC NEGRO.— 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 
 
 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 I beg pardon 
 for all my faults;" and then plunged 
 to the bottom, never to rise again till the 
 sea shall give up her dead. 
 
 (c) 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, wlio fled 
 from the danger, by driving forward 
 with the greatest rapidity. 
 
 (e) THE DEVOTED NURSE.— 
 The Rev. S. W. Hanna says : On the 
 10th of .Tune, 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 ; — the 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, 
 (c) CAIUS GRACCHUS AND 
 HIS TWO FRIENDS.— Caius Grac 
 79 
 
3S 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 chus, who was the idol of the Roman 
 people, and having carried his regard 
 for the lower orders so far 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 \Vhich 
 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 Fulvius 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. 
 
 J8. Self-denying Beneficence, shown by the 
 Rich. 
 
 {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 reserve, that I would take with 
 a sparing hand what 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 
 80 
 
 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 more I dare not take with- 
 out being guilty of sacrilege." 
 
 (h) LADY HUNTINGDON AND 
 THE TRADESIVIAN. — Lady Hunt- 
 ingdon, with an income of only £l 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, bo 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." 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
SELF-DENYING BENEFICENCE— SHOWN BY THE 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. 
 
 (a) 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 Providence 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- 
 buted according 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 
 poor. 
 
 (e) THE DUCHESS OF VENTA- 
 DOUR. — During 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- 
 ther 1 noi my family ; in mv station 
 6 
 
 there is no great hardship in trusting to 
 Providence." 
 
 (/) EDWARD COLSTON, THE 
 BRISTOL MERCHANT. — Edward 
 
 Colston, at the age of forty years, be- 
 came a very eminent East India mer- 
 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, which 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. " We 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 lost, 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 
 81 
 
3§, 39 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 in extreme misery, with twins in her 
 lap, sat begging ; and, as he and his 
 intended lady were arm-in-arm, he be- 
 Iield the wretched object, put his hand 
 in his pocket, and took out a handful of 
 gold and silver, casting it into the poor 
 woman's lap. 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 ?" " Madam," 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 !" was her answer. 
 This charitable hint met with his cor- 
 dial approbation, and the money was 
 laid out accordingly. 
 
 {h) WHERE It SHOULD RE.— 
 When a gentleman who had been ac- 
 customed to 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." 
 
 (0 A BENEVOLENT VICAR.— 
 John Baptist Joseph Languet, vicar of 
 St. Sulpice at Paris, sometimes dis- 
 bursed '^he sum 6f 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. 
 
 29. Self-denying Beneficence, shown by the 
 Poor. 
 {a) PEGGY AND THE ONE- 
 POUND NOTE.— Peggy had been 
 
 82 
 
 consigned by her dying mother in Ire- 
 land to the care of an individual, who 
 brought her up as her servant, bastow- 
 ing upon her only clotiies 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 
 efiect 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 ?" " Your reverence," 
 said she, "it is the first pound that I 
 could ever call my own since I was 
 born. And what will I 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. 
 
 Pec 
 
 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 ! 
 
 {h) THE NEGRESS AND HER 
 NURSEi. — 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 
 
SELF-DFNYING BENEFICENCE— SHOWN BY THE POOR. 
 
 ^9 
 
 tier 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 dollai-s. " 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 
 that I 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 be 
 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- 
 izenship 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. 
 
 (b) 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- 
 Btreet, 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 further 
 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 v/eeks." 
 
 " Well, sit down here, and take a 
 bite," said the kind-hearted negro; 
 " although I ain't rich, 1 am generous." 
 
 With tears in her eyes, that seemed 
 just before already sealed up from weep- 
 ing, she drew near the humble table. 
 1 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, 1 
 continued my walk. 
 
 But I 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 accompanied 
 by the minister to a wretched hovel at 
 some distance from the village. It ap- 
 83 
 
89 
 
 HENEFICENCEI. 
 
 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 bowing 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 ?" The fee-ble 
 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. Well, 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, that I 
 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 nK>ney. 
 
 (e) THE HOTTENTOT'S GIFT. 
 — In the year 1813-, says the Rev. J. 
 Campbell, after having visited several 
 nations in the interior of Africa, 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 frierfds 
 to relate publicly the state of the nations 
 in the interior of Africa. About one 
 hundred free persons, with some slaves, 
 attended. At the close, several hundred 
 rixdollars 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 ?" 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 
 84 
 
 cheerfully took subscriptions from slave'g=y 
 they rushed into my room, and every 
 one threw down all that he had, to send 
 the gospel to the poor things- beyond 
 them ! 
 
 The immedifcte cause of this was — - 
 their masters had lately built a place of 
 worship for them, where missionariesy 
 when they happened to be in the town, 
 preached to them ; and some of their 
 masters would at tinges read a sermon 
 to them. These tastes of instruction 
 made them desirous that the nations be- 
 yond should be favored with the same 
 advajitage* 
 
 (/) THE INDIAN BROOM-MA.^ 
 KBR.— '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 
 aflfected 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 inforn>ed us, that both that man 
 and his wife are praying souls. They 
 are slaves. O! 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) THE GREENLANDERS' DO- 
 NATION. — ^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 efforts for their relief One 
 said, " I have a fine reindeer skin, 
 which I will give." Another, " And f 
 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. 
 
SELF-DENYING BENEFICENCE— 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 inforaied 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. 
 
 (0 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 
 cal)in 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 fift)' 
 pounds also to the relief of the jK)or. 
 
 (j) THE DAUGHTER'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, little was 
 expected from her. Indeed they called 
 upon her chiefly to testify their respect, 
 and to avoid the imputation of either 
 forgetting her pe|son, 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, 
 ttiat 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 : 
 I had laid it up as a portion for my 
 daughter ; and I am deteitnined that He 
 who has my daughter shall have her 
 portion too." 
 
 {k) REV. JOHN WESLEY'S 
 PLATE— HIS BENEVOLENCE.— 
 In the year 1776, the Rev. John Wesley 
 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, ha/d, or kept any quantity 
 of silver plate, chargeable by the act 
 85 
 
39 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 of parliaiTient ; as in default thereof, 
 the board will be obliged to signify your 
 refusal to their lordships. 
 
 " N. B. An immediate answer is de- 
 sired." 
 
 Mr. Wesley 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 
 mdU}' around me want bread. I am, 
 sir, your most humble servant, 
 
 "John Wesley." 
 
 Perhaps there never was a more 
 charitable man than Mr. Wesley. His 
 liberality knew no bounds, but an empty 
 pocket. 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- 
 sities of others. He entered upon this 
 good \york at a very <jfirly period. We 
 are told, that when he had thirty jx>unds 
 a year, he lived on twenty-eight, and 
 gave away forty shillings. The next 
 year, receiving sixty pounds, he still lived 
 on twenty-eight, and gave away two- 
 and-thirty. The third year he 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 poor 
 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. 
 
 {I) LAVATER HELPING A 
 POOR WOMAN.— The following is 
 an extract from the private diaiy 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 be understood ?" 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 1 arose from dinner, a widow 
 
 desired to speak to me. " You will 
 
 excuse me, dear sir," shid she, " I must 
 
 pay my rent, and I am six dollars 
 
 86 
 
 short. I have been ill a whole months 
 and could scarcely keep my children 
 from starving. I have laid by every 
 penny, but I 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 know 
 not when I can redeem it. O, dear sir, 
 cannot you assist me ?" " 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 ?" " No, 
 not a soul living ; and I do not like to 
 go from house to house ; 1 would rather 
 work whole nights. I have been told 
 that you are a good-natured gentleman ; 
 and if you cannot assist, 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 76tb 
 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 ear, " 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 ? I will 
 give her something, and send her away." 
 My wife squeezed my hand tendcly, 
 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. " With 
 great pleasure," said she, pulling oil* 
 her ring. The old woman was either 
 too simple to observe tliis, or too modest 
 
BENEFICENCE WITH RULE AND SYSTEM. 
 
 39,40 
 
 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 ?" 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 ? 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 ? Why did you not 
 give her what money you had in your 
 purse ? Do you not know that there 
 are six dollars in your bureau, and that 
 it will be quarter-day in ten days ?" 
 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 k) 
 the bureau, and took the six dollars. 
 When I was going to open the door, to 
 call the widow, I was seized with hor- 
 ror because I had said, " I cannot 
 help you." — O, thou traitorous tongue ! 
 thou deceitful heart ! — " 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 notlnng 
 but this poor book, and it is old." " Keep 
 your book and the money," said I, " and 
 thank God, and not me. Indeed I do 
 not deserve it, because T have hesitated 
 so long to assist you. Go, and say not 
 one word more." 
 
 {m) BENEVOLENCE OF JOHN 
 FOX. — John Fox, the celebrated author 
 of the " Book of Martyrs," was re- 
 markable for his liberality to the poor. 
 What 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 maintained by a sense 
 of the love of Christ, and was shown 
 with a view to his glo y . A friend once 
 inquiring of him, if ne recollected a 
 poor man, whom he was accustomed to 
 
 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 
 ahounded 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." What 
 fidelity in duty ! What distrust of her- 
 self ! Fift}'" pounds of this money she 
 sent to Mr. Mason, in aid of the funds 
 he was collecting for the establishment 
 of a theological seminary. 
 
 (c) MR.' COBB'S COVENANT.— 
 Nathaniel Ripley Cobb, of Bo'ston, 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 aflluence 
 is constantly proved by their munifi- 
 ence. Yet it was not always from what 
 
 87 
 
40 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 is strictl} 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 
 given, by consecrating his gains to the 
 Lord. In November, 1821, he drew 
 up the folloMiing 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. 
 
 " 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 al: 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. 
 
 (d) DR. WRIGHT'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-HIVE AND THE 
 WALNUT TREE.— The following 
 account is related by Mr. Charles 
 Stokes Dudley, of England : 
 
 88 
 
 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 formation 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. Tc 
 this arrangement he consented. On the 
 following day, a swarm of bees settlec 
 on a tree in their garden, and was soon 
 safel}'' 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 
 J£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 WITH INDUSTRY AND FRUGALITY. 
 
 41 
 
 {g) DOING SOMETHING EVERY 
 "WHERE. — Atone of the anniversaries 
 in London Rev. Richard Knill said : 
 
 When I used to travel for the London 
 Missionary 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 ;" and he gave 
 another £13. 
 
 41. Beneficence with Industry and Fru- 
 gality. 
 
 {a) THE MISER OF MAR- 
 SEILLES. — 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 tliat 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." 
 
 {h) SAVING A PENNY A WEEK. 
 — 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 often 
 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 fourpence. 
 
 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 Wakefield, 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, " 1 spin so many 
 hanks of yarn for a maintenance; 
 I will spin one more, and that will be a 
 penny for the society." " I would 
 rather," said the speaker, " see that 
 hank suspended in the poor woman's 
 cottagCj a token of her zeal for the tri- 
 umph of the gospel, than military tro- 
 89 
 
41 
 
 BKNEFICENCE. 
 
 phies in the halls of heroes, the proud 
 memorials of victories obtained over 
 the physical strength of men !" 
 
 (d) A REFORMED DRUNK- 
 ARD'SGIFT. — 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 
 he 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 frugal ; 
 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. 
 
 (e) 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 
 ©.' our farm, above what is necessary 
 foi the supply of our own wants, as the 
 Loid'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 logs, 
 90 
 
 and cultivating a small firm upon the 
 mountain, was accustomed to give for 
 purposes of benevolence, about three 
 hundred dollars yearly. 
 
 (/) A NUMEROUS FAMILY.— 
 A pious gentleman in , was en- 
 gaged in a certain branch of business 
 by which he was rapidly increasing his 
 wealth. When he had 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 hot 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 Catechism.^' " 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- 
 NESS.— 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 
 tlie various societies that are formed for 
 dilFusing 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 eternity .'" 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 DONA- 
 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 female servant for having 
 
BENEFICENCE WITH PROMPTITUDE. 
 
 49 
 
 thrown away a match without using 
 both ends. After diverting themselves 
 some 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 supposed miser, however, no sooner 
 understood their business than he step- 
 ped into a closet, from whence he 
 brought a bag, and counted out four 
 hundred guineas, which he presented 
 to them. No 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 owii way ; the first 
 furnishes me with the means of doing 
 the other. With regard to benevolent 
 donations, you may always expect most 
 fi'om prudent people who keep their 
 own accounts." When hi^ 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. 
 
 42. Beneficence 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 of his 
 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 betook 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 hopes 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 drafl 
 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 a right to take 
 away, I must be speedy, therefore, to 
 give while it is in my possession." 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c) DR. WILSON AND THE 
 POOR CLERGYMAN.— The benevo- 
 lent Dr. Wilson once discovered a cler- 
 gyman at Bath, who, he was informed, 
 was sick, poor, and had a numerous 
 flimily. In the evening he gave a 
 friend fifly 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." 
 
 {d) BAXTER'S DELAY AND 
 LOSS.— When Mr. Baxter lost a thou- 
 91 
 
43 
 
 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 whih God 
 gives the power of bestowing, ana 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. 
 
 it Beneficence to Debtors and Robbers. 
 
 (a) REV. JOHN WESLEY AND 
 HIS LIKENESS.— Mr. Dudley was 
 one evening taking tea with that emi- 
 nent 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 Shel bourne 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 V ' Oh, yes,' he re- 
 plied ; ' he — that race of fanatics V 
 ' Well, my lord ; Mr. Wesley 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 ten guineas for the 
 first ten minutes that you sit, and for 
 every minute that exceeds that time you 
 shall receive a guinea.' ' What !' said 
 Mr. Wesley ; * Do I understand you 
 
 92 
 
 aright, that you will give me ten guineas 
 for having my picture taken ? Well, I 
 agree to it.' He then stripped ofT his 
 coat, and lay on the sofa, and in eight 
 minutes 1 had the most perfect bust I 
 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?' They then 
 wished me a good-morning, and pro- 
 ceeded over Westminster Bridge. The 
 first object that presented itself to their 
 view was a poor woman crying bitterly, 
 with three children hanging round her, 
 each sobbing, though apparently 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 be not too late.' They instantly pro- 
 
BENEFICENCE TO DEBTORS AND ROBBERS. 
 
 43 
 
 ceeded 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 
 now only surviving sufferer. But so ex- 
 treme was the weakness to which he was 
 reduced, that six weeks elapsed before 
 he could speak sufficiently 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 failure 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 
 fifty 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. Wesley, 
 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. Wesley repeated his 
 visit 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 
 afflictions 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 this 
 purpose advanced a considerable sum 
 93 
 
43 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 as a foundation fund for the relief of 
 small debtors. And the very first per- 
 son who partook of the same was the 
 inexorable laioyer .'" 
 
 This remarkable fact so entirely con- 
 vinced Lord Sliolbourne of the mistaken 
 opinion he had formed of Mr. Wesley, 
 that he immediately ordered a dozen 
 of busts to embellish the grounds of his 
 beautiful residence. 
 
 {h) WASHINGTON'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 
 smiled upon the labors of the grateful 
 family, and in a ^ew years Rouzy en- 
 joyed the exquisite pleasure of being 
 able to lay the one thousand pounds, 
 with the int^est, at the feet of this truly 
 great 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. 
 
 94 
 
 (c) M. DeSALLO 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 
 a scuffle, 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 through 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 loaf 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 teazings ; for, soon or late, these 
 doings must bring me to ruin." His 
 wife, having calmed the agony of his 
 mind, took up the loaf, 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 !), com- 
 manded the boy to call him at five the 
 
BENEFICENCE TO DEBTORS AND ROBBERS. 
 
 43 
 
 next morning. He rose accordingly, 1 
 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 measure deprived 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 charity 
 
 (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 
 
 courageous and sensible heart soon dis- 
 tinguishes between the voice of the 
 unfortunate v/retch, 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 ?" said he in an im- 
 posing tone to his aggressor. 
 
 " Nothing sir," answered a sobbing 
 voice ; " I ask nothing of you." 
 
 '•' Who are you ? 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 difficulty in sustain- 
 ing his numerous family." 
 " How can you let him want bread ?" 
 " 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 loaves, 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 
 ofTered 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 
 be contented and happy if this shop 
 were yours ?" 
 
 " Ah sir, but alas !" 
 
 " What ?" 
 
 "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. — When 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 ob- 
 serving the refusal was very displeasing 
 to her, and not caring to leave her dis- 
 satisfied, he consented to accept of her 
 present ; an4 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 plundered. 
 
 (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 them. 
 The Elector of Saxony ofTered 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 
 
 96 
 
 these subterraneous treasures, to tempt 
 me." The enemies of Luther were no 
 strangers to his contempt for gold. When 
 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 oflen 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 accidjentally 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 
 I to do with so much money ! I gave 
 half of it to P. Priorus, and made the 
 man glad." 
 
 (c) SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.— This 
 eminent man was governor of Flushing, 
 (Neth.) 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." 
 
 (d) 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- 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 
 
 44 
 
 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 DROWNING SAILORS. 
 — Two boats, some time ago, were sent 
 out from Dover to relieve a vessel in 
 distress. The fury of the tempest over- 
 set one of them, which contained three 
 sailors, and one of them sunk. The two 
 remaining sailors were floating on the 
 deep ; a rope was thrown to one of them 
 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 
 7 
 
 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 
 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 still 
 hold on a little ; but Joseph Bawn, who 
 is a little lower dov/n, 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. Fothergill, 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. 
 
 (A) 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. 
 
 (0 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, many 
 97 
 
44^ 45 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 persons severely wounded and dying, 
 to whom Regcns had afforded divine 
 consohition and refreshment for the 
 mind as well as the body. By means of a 
 heavy bombardment, the town was set on 
 fire in different quarters, and the mon- 
 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 ! 
 
 (j) COWPER'S BENEVOLENCE. 
 — "Ifthereisa good man on earth," 
 ILord Thurlow was wont to say, " it is 
 William Cowper." From his child- 
 hood, he possessed a heart of the most 
 exquisite tenderness and sensibility. 
 His life was ennobled by many private 
 acts of beneficence ; and his exemplary 
 virtue was such, tlmt 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. 
 
 -45. Beneficence 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- 
 brance 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. 
 
 (b) EXAMPLE OF JULIUS C^- 
 SAR. — It was a common saying of 
 Julius Caesar, that no music was so 
 * charming to his ear as the requests of 
 
 98 
 
 his friends and the supplications of tho^ 
 in want of his assistance. 
 
 (c) AURELIUS AND ANTONY. 
 — Marcus Aurelius tells us that ho 
 could not relish a happiness whicii no- 
 body shared in but himself. Mark 
 Antony, when depressed, and at the ebb 
 of fortune, cried out "That he had loMt 
 all, except what he had given away." 
 
 {d) 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." 
 
 (e) HOWE'S TURN.— During the 
 days of the commonwealth, the Rev. 
 John Howe, one of Cromwell's chaplains, 
 was frequently applied to by men of all 
 parties for protection, nor did he refuse 
 his influence to any an account of dif- 
 ference in religious opinions. One day^ 
 the Protector said to him, " Mr. Howe, 
 you have asked favors for every body 
 besides yourself; pray, when does your 
 turn come ?" He replied, " My turn, 
 my Lord Protector, is always come 
 when I can serve another." 
 
 (/) 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, " 1 
 beg you will give me no thanks : 1 
 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 just 
 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, 
 \Sz;c. Dr, Wyllie, his majesty's phy- 
 sician, attempted to bleed the patient, 
 but in vain; and after three hours' 
 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 of the patient, nor did he 
 leave him till he was quite recovered. 
 
 (h) THE COURAGEOUS NURSE. 
 —The typhas 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 Mdio 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 suff*erers, 
 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 her 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- 
 fluence 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 New- 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 
 office 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, 1 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." 1 expressed my surprise 
 that he should contribute so liberally, 
 and remarked that I should feel myself 
 in duty bound not to call on him very 
 soon on a similar errand. " Well 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 
 
45,46 
 
 BENEPICENCR 
 
 to pass me by. Call, and I think I shall 
 be able to do something ; and if not, my 
 prayers shall go with you." 
 
 0) FLETCHER'S GRATITUDE. 
 —The Rev. J. W. 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 ratoney 
 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 handy and said, "Well, 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 ?" " Yes^ yesy" 
 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 r 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 thank you, 
 I heartily thank you, my dear kind 
 brethren." 
 
 (k) 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. Beneficence Rewarded by Gratitude 
 and Respect. 
 
 (a) CROMWELL AND THE FLO- 
 RENTINE MERCHANT.— Francis 
 Frescobald, a Florentine merchant, de- 
 scended of a noble family in Italy, had 
 100 
 
 gained a plentiful fortune, of which he 
 was liberal-handed to all in necessity ;• 
 which being well known to others,- 
 though concealed by hin>self^ a young 
 stranger applied to him for charity.^ 
 Signior Frescobald, seeing sometliing in 
 his countenance more than ordinary^ 
 overlookod his tattered clothes, and com- 
 passionating his circumstances, asked 
 him what be was, and of what country. 
 " I am," answered the young man, " a 
 native of England ; my name is Thomas 
 Cromwell, and my father-fn-law is a 
 poor shire-man. I left my country ta 
 seek my fortune ; came with the French 
 army that were routed at Gatylion, 
 where I was page to a footman, and 
 carried his pike and burgonet after 
 him." Frescobald commiserating his 
 necessities, and having a particular re- 
 spect for the English nation, clotheci 
 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 Wolsey. 
 
 After the cardinal's deaths h'& worked 
 himself so efiectually into the favor of 
 King Heniy VIIF, 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 ; andy 
 calling to mind, without ever thinking' 
 of Cromwell, that some English mer- 
 chants were indebted to him in the suny 
 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 sanae gentleman 
 that had done him such great kindness 
 in Italy, immediately alighted, em- 
 braced him, and, with tears of joy, askecf 
 him if he was not Signior Francis Fres- 
 cobald, a Florentine merchant. " Yes,, 
 sir," said he, " and your most humble 
 servant." " My servant P said the 
 chancellor. " No; you are my special 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY GRATITUDE AND RESPECT. 
 
 46 
 
 friend, that relieved me in my wants, 
 laid 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 
 «ne." 
 
 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 ; 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 adrtiiral, 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 brou<ii;ht 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 debt I owe 
 you." Then leading him to his closet, 
 he locked 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 
 ducat«, and enjoy them as free gifts of 
 your friend." These the modesty of 
 Frescobald would have refused, but the 
 other forced them upon him. He next 
 caused him to give him the names o£ ^ 
 
 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 Frescobald 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. 
 
 (b) THE WELSH CLERGYMAN 
 AND THE LONDON MERCHANT. 
 — A poor Welsh 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. 
 
 No sooner did this sad reverse become 
 known to the poor honest Welshman, 
 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. With 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." 
 
 (c) 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 
 
 101 
 

 46 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 any use to you ? If it can, it is yours : 
 take it." 
 
 (c) DR. L. AND HIS SERVANT. 
 — 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 
 feelmgs, they must part ; his difficulties 
 beins 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, " No, master, we will never part. 
 Many a year have you kept me ; and 
 now I 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 law-suit being 
 ended. Dr. L. became possessed- of a 
 large fortune. He settled a handsome 
 sum on his faithful servant. 
 
 (d) 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 river for him. The man said he 
 would go. After getting it to the river, 
 
 102 
 
 Indian offered to pay him. " 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 ; thei*e, take your canoe, and 
 go home." So I find it after many 
 days. 
 
 (/) THE BLACK TRADER AND 
 HIS FRIEND.— 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 misfortune, 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. Tlie gener- 
 ous temper of the sufferer, and the 
 obligations tliat 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. While the 
 account was drawing out, he continued 
 smoking, in a state of mind that a mon- 
 arch might envy. When finished, he went 
 in search of his friend, with the account 
 discharged, and the multilated bond iu 
 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 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY GRATITUDE 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. I am 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 ?" She replied, " Yes, 
 I do ; 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!" 
 
 (70 THE BROKEN MERCHANT 
 BEFRIENDED.— 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, seiiijibly 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 outstanding concerns, 
 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." 
 
 (i) THE INDIAN AND HIS 
 FRIEND.— 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, he 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 tribe, it was 
 proposed by some of the captors that he 
 should be put to death ; but, during the 
 consultation, an old woman demanded 
 103 
 
46 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 that he should be given up to her, that 
 she might adopt 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. 
 
 While, 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 thoy 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 ! 
 Now I pray you jjohome." 
 
 ij) 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 
 104 
 
 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 first 
 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- 
 LING. — A gentleman from the coun- 
 try, passing through the streets of the 
 metropolis, saw a poor man who had 
 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, fiiiling 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 it 
 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 I disposed 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." 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY GRATITUDE AND RESPECT. 
 
 46 
 
 (Z) THE WIDOW AND THE 
 SAVAGES.— 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, 
 before 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 WOMAN.— The Rev. 
 W. Jay, in his interesting memoirs of 
 his friend and tutor, the Rev. C. Win- 
 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 V 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 WATERS. 
 — 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 theij 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 soldier's pay, was 
 unable to discharge the bill for his 
 lx)ard. When 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 errand 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 
 
46 
 
 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. 
 
 (o) 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 pontiff 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 1 
 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 
 ihe 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- 
 106 
 
 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 liis 
 anxiety to solicit my notice, whose look 
 and manner were irresistible. Not 
 less was the lesson he had learned — 
 ' There are six of us, and we are dying 
 for food.' Why should not I, said I 
 to myself, relieve this wretched family ? 
 I have the means, and it will not delay 
 me many minutes. But what if it does 1 
 The scene of misery he conducted me 
 to, I cannot describe ; I threw 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 
 cheapl5^" 
 
 (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- 
 INC.— The agent of the 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 
 on Mr. P., a liberal man, who, though 
 not a professor of religion, was ready, 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 4G, 4T 
 
 without urging, to aid every benevo- 
 lent object. The paper was presented, 
 and he 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 wils 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." 
 " Well, is my brother a good Societ}^ 
 man ?" " 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 Waldbach, was 
 allowed to continue his work of bene- 
 volence and instruction unmolested. 
 
 His house became the retreat of many 
 individuals of different religious per- 
 suasions, and of distinguished rank, 
 who fled thither, under the influence 6i' 
 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. 
 (/) ^DR. DODDRIDGE'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. Beneficence Rewarded in larions 
 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, he supplied the ne- 
 cessities of the poor." Shortly afler 
 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 lefl 
 his whole estate to him. 
 
 (b) " BRING YE ALL THE 
 TITHES."— "Some years ago," says 
 one, " I recollect reading 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,' 
 &c. I cannot describe how my mind 
 was impressed with the manner in 
 which Jehovah here condescended to 
 challenge his people, when he says, 
 ' And prove me now herewith,' &c. 
 Suffice it to say, that the subject made 
 such an impression, I found it my duty 
 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 
 j£20 ; and in a very little time after- 
 wards I received £40, which I had 
 long given up as lost." 
 
 (c) TITHING AND THRIVING.— 
 The Rev. Mr. Whately having in a ser- 
 mon warmly recommended his hearers to 
 put 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, they 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 ; 
 buf I will tell you what has been my 
 own practice. You know, sir, some 
 years ago, [ 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, ifyou 
 have occasion, I can lend you ten times 
 as much as I have formerly been forced 
 to borrow." 
 
 (c) 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 
 
 108 
 
 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 loaf to every person in the 
 town, gentle and simple, and to every 
 traveller that should pass through the 
 town on that day a penny loaf. 
 
 (e) 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 
 affluence. It has been said, that he 
 never insured, nor ever lost a ship. 
 Once, indeed, a vessel belonging to Inm 
 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. 
 
 if) A CHILD'S jLIFE 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, 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 and forgetting his own, he ran, snatched 
 her up in his arms, and hastened with 
 her to the side path, when the thought 
 struck him — how would the parents of 
 this dear child have felt, had she been 
 killed ! — At this moment he looked in 
 the face of the little girl, which had 
 been concealed from his view by her 
 bonnet, and imagine, if you can, what 
 his feelings were when he discovered 
 that it was his daughter ! 
 
 (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 over- 
 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 
 border of 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. " But 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, if you 
 had it ?" " 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 reflected : " This woman 
 is in very great need of a Bible. Oh 
 that I had one to give her ! But I have 
 not. As for money to buy one, I have 
 none to spare ; I have no more than 
 will be absolutely necessary for my 
 expenses home. I must go : but if I 
 leave this woman without the means to 
 procure the word of God, she may per- 
 ish for lack of knowledge. What 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 road, 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 
 ^.o 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? 
 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 poor, having 
 been at no cost whatever. 
 110 
 
 About a year and a half after this, a 
 stranger called at the house of Mr. M. 
 for some refreshment, in 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 repent- 
 ance, was a poor woman, who lived in 
 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 
 of 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 !" 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 4Y 
 
 (i) THANKSGIVING PRESENTS. 
 — The following anecdote was com- 
 municated to the editor of this work, 
 by Capt. S., a late agent of the Am. 
 Bethel Society. The day before thanks- 
 giving, in the State of New- York, I 
 was at F., and just about to 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 offered to 
 dispose of them cheap, and I took the 
 whole eleven pair, though I 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. When 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 precisely as many chickens as 
 ice 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 a connexion 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. 
 
 (j) 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 procured the money, he 
 left his home to be the bearer of his own 
 benefaction. 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 part, was invited by tht 
 111 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 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 
 of Thompson. 
 
 " Thompson !" exclaimed the lady 
 of the house; " 1 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 f^r. 
 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 
 Mr. 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." 
 
 (k) BAXTER'S TESTIMONY.— 
 One help to my success, says Baxter, 
 was the relief which )ny estate enabled 
 me to afford to the poor. The situation 
 which I held, was reckoned at near 
 2001. 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 maintained 
 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 
 112 
 
 thought he had been too bountiful. 
 
 W., with some degree of smartness 
 
 It is not enough 
 
 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- 
 
 (/)' WHITFIELD AND THE 
 CHURL.— While the Rev. G. Whit- 
 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 frieiu, 
 " Come, let us visit some of your poor 
 people. It is not enough that we labor 
 in the pulpit ; we must endeavor to be 
 useful out of it." On entering the 
 dwellings of the afflicted poor, he 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 
 
 Mr. 
 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." His 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 m 
 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 tor a 
 penurious -disposition : but Elijah was 
 fed by ravens. 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 (m) A HCNDRED 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. 
 JJuring 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 ? 
 Would a hundred guineas be of any 
 service to you '?" " I should be truly 
 thankful for such a sum," said 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 he, 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. 
 
 (n) 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. 
 During his retreat 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 loaf 
 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 
 loaf. He that could feed five thousand 
 men with five loaves 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 provisions ! 
 
 (o) 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 $5. 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 fulfd 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, most of the 
 practice was thrown into 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 do 
 with him. 
 
 Oh, sir, if we would, all of us, only 
 trust in the Lord, and more abundantly 
 
4T 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 give of our substance lo 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. 
 
 While 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 him on all sides, 
 but could see no one. Now he put the 
 money in his pocket and proceeded to 
 put on the other shoe, but how great 
 114 
 
 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, 
 from 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 ?" 
 
 " 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 companions 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 ? 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 shall 
 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 ? 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 (r) " GOD LOVETH A CHEER- 
 FUL GIVER,'"—" How is it, Betty," 
 said an elder 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 
 that I always see you drop something 
 in the plate ? Where do you get it ?" 
 " 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 plate." 
 
 " 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 ; "1 never 
 had so much money in my life as a 
 sovereign; what shall I do with it?" 
 " 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- 
 ject : 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. Not 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 ?" " 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 f 
 
 (s) 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 ?" replied the doctor. " Yes, I do." 
 " Well, 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 difficult sur- 
 gical operation upon a man worth 
 $200,000 or $300,000. When 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. What do you think 
 he would be willing to pay ? 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 present of five dollars, which 
 was all the money I 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 be re- 
 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 I was 
 dining with another family of my con- 
 gregation, who likewise helped to make 
 up my salary, we were conversing on 
 115 
 
4V 
 
 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, 
 had 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 !" 
 
 (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, and I 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 
 116 
 
 my surprise, wlien 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 ! 
 Gratitude and joy swelled my bosom ; 
 my mind at once recurred to my contri- 
 bution the day previous, and I felt con- 
 vinced that I had seen a literal fulfil- 
 ment of the promise^ " Give and it shall 
 be given unto you, good measure pressed 
 down and running over, shall men give 
 into your bosom." 
 
 {v) 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 thingst 
 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 aflerwards 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 now con- 
 strained to acknowledge that the Lord 
 
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 had 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. 
 
 (w) THE PHYSICIAN AND THE 
 CFIURL. — At the recognition of a 
 church in New- York, in 1847, the 
 following 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- 
 tion. 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 nidividuals. 
 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 object ; 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 thousand 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. 
 
 Note. — 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 liberality, 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 justice, as will be 
 seen at 496, in the case of Goldsmith ; 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. We 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 liberality in every age. Volumes 
 might be filled wiih 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 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 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- 
 cipal 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 ?" " Yes !" (in 
 astonishment.) 
 
 "You make, probably, ten dollars a 
 day clear ?" 
 
 "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 
 will pay you in a week." " I cannot 
 pay my bills with such promises," 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." 
 
 " Are you serious ? Well, I solemn- 
 ly aver that in one week from now I 
 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 cau- 
 cus as an applicant for a congressional 
 nomination. The principal of the cau- 
 cus held his 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 
 he cast a negative, thereby defeating 
 the wealthy applicant, whom he met an 
 118 
 
 hour afterwards, and to whom he said, 
 " You don't remember me ?" 
 
 "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." 
 
 " AVell, sir, what then ?" 
 
 " Not much. You called yourself a 
 Christian. To-night you were a candi- 
 date for nomination, and hut for 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 
 
 7 pounds to the poor of Ireland, if 
 
 you will give the same." " I do not 
 mean that either," was the reply. No, 
 it is neither this nor that, which this 
 class of objectors exactly mean ; but 
 simply to veil their criminal parsimonj^ 
 by excepting against the proceedings of 
 liberal men, whom, if they could not 
 condemn, they must, for very shame> 
 in some degree imitate. 
 
 (c) THE RECTOR AND THE 
 POOR BOY.— An indigent boy applied 
 for alms at the house of an avaricious 
 
BENEVOLENCE MISDIRECTED. 
 
 4§, 49 
 
 rector, and received a dry mouldy crust. 
 The recior 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 !"— " Our Father !" said 
 the boy, " is he my Father as well as 
 yours V^ '" Yes, certainly." "Then," 
 replied the boy, " how could you give 
 your poor brother this mouldy crust of 
 bread r' 
 
 (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, 
 <Scc. But, thought he, 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, but I want you to feel in your 
 pocket" 
 
 49. Benevolence Misdirected. 
 
 {a) BENEVOLENCE OF LAS 
 CAS AS. — 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 H^ispaniola. who had 
 been commissioned and sent out as the 
 Spanish governor to that island. He 
 ■'.here 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, tlie seizure of 
 
 their lands, their severe toil and inexor- 
 able punishment. He was deeply af- 
 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. 
 
 (b) DR. GOLDSMITH AND THE 
 BEGGAR. — A common female beggar 
 once asked alms of Dr. Goldsmith as he 
 walked with his friend up Fleet-street. 
 He generously gave her a shilling. 
 His companion, who knew something of 
 the woman, censured the bard 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 ; but 
 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 man to be unjust. 
 
 119 
 
50,51 
 
 BEREAVEMENTS. 
 
 BEREAVEMENTS. 
 
 50. The Bereaved Comforted. 
 
 (a) LEGH 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, w^hich 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 still 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 unlooked-for distress ; but, when 1 
 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 1 say, mamma ? 
 Shall I fetch a book?" "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- 
 tience." 
 
 {b) SUPPORT FROM THE CROSS. 
 — Dr. Grosvenor's first wife was a most 
 devout and amiable woman. The Sab- 
 bath after her death, the doctor ex- 
 pressed himself from the pulpit in the 
 following manner : " I have had an irre- 
 120 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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, 
 afler 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 affliction. 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.' 
 
 51. 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 wore 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." 
 
 (b) THE YOUTH'S RECOVERY. 
 — A pious clergyman once related the 
 
THE BEREAVED CONVERTED. 
 
 51 
 
 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 as I 
 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 than I 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 1ears. 
 ' You are about to go into the midst of 
 temptations, but He who has watched 
 over you hitherto, can still preserve you. 
 I have 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 
 that I 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 writings ; but I 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 profligate, and 
 often made even my tlioughtless 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 
 proceed 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 beloved 
 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 now 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. Who 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 courseof my backslidings re- 
 turned to my recollection, and filled mo 
 with despair ; but 
 
 121 
 
&^ 
 
 BEREAVEMENTS. 
 
 * 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- 
 fluences of the blessed Spirit, opened to 
 the eyes of nny 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 
 his widowed mother's residence. He 
 knocked, but no one bade him enter. 
 He called, but no answer was returned 
 save the echo of his own voice. It 
 seemed like knocking at the door of a 
 tomb. The nearest neighbor hearing 
 the noise, came and found the youth 
 sitting and sobbing on the steps of the 
 door. " Where," cried he with eager- 
 ness, " where is my mother and my 
 brother ? Oh, I hope they are not" — 
 
 "If," said the stranger, "you in- 
 
 quire for Widow , 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 
 Tead the following short letter, while his 
 manly cheeks were covered with tears. 
 
 " My Dearest, only Son. — When 
 this reaches you, I shall be no more. 
 122 
 
 Your little brother has gone before me. 
 and I cannot but hope and believe that 
 he was prepared. I had fondly hoped 
 that I should once more have seen you 
 on the shores of mortality ; but this 
 hope is now relinquished. I have 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 I knelt for my 
 lost son. There is but one thing that 
 gives me pain at dying ; and that is, 
 my dear William, 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. 
 
 §2. The Bereaved Rebuked. 
 
 (a) LADY RAFFLES AND THE 
 NURSE.— One day when Lady Raf- 
 fles, while in India, was ah-nost over- 
 whelmed with grief for the loss of a 
 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 employed 
 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 ? 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 
 
HISTORICAL FACTS. 
 
 53 
 
 worn out with trouble and sorrow, has 
 not God taken him to heaven in all his 
 beauty ? For shame ! — leave off weep- 
 ing, and let me open a window." 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 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. 
 
 &l 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- 
 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- 
 came still shorter, he dictated cheerfully, 
 and sometimes said, ' Make haste ; I 
 know not how long I shall hold out ; my 
 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 you think it trouble- 
 
 some to be asked any more questions V 
 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 !' 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 Trinitv Collesfe, Cambridge. 
 
 (b) THE BIBLE iPROHIBITED. 
 — 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 theyre heyers for ever ; and 
 so be condemned for heretykes to God, 
 123 
 
53 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 enemies to the crowne, and most arrant 
 traitors to the lande." 
 
 (c) HIGH PRICES OF BIBLES. 
 — Of" VV. 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 SSL 6s. &d. And 
 in a valuation of books, bequeathed to 
 Merton College, at Oxford, before the 
 year li^OO, a Psalter with glosses, or 
 marginal annotations, is valued at ten 
 shillings ; and St. Austin, on Genesis, 
 and a Concord antia, 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. 
 
 (d) 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 
 hundred marks, the monk founded a 
 daily mass for the soul of the donor. 
 
 (e) 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 
 commonly 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 co- 
 pies as fast as they were wanted, and 
 also lowered his price to thirty crov/ns, 
 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. 
 
 (/) 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 ! 
 I was more than fifty years old before 
 I knew any thing of a 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 this^I see, that every thing in it is 
 agamst 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 had 
 taken his highest^ degree in divinity. 
 Many other equally striking facts might 
 be introduced, illustrative of the igno- 
 rance of the Scriptures which prevailed 
 at that time. 
 
 (g) LUTHER'S DISCOVERY.— In 
 the year 1507, in the twenty- fourth 
 year of his age, Luther entered into 
 orders, and celebrated his first mass. 
 
HISTORICAL FACTS. 
 
 •u 
 
 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 its 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." 
 
 (?:) 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 
 
 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 Constantino, 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. 
 
 (j) CRANMER'S BIBLE.— When 
 Archbishop Cranmer's edition of the 
 Bible was printed, in 1538, 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 Ro- 
 mish clergy, severe proclamations were 
 issued by King Henry VIII. against all 
 who read, or kept by them, Tindal's 
 translation of the New Testament ; so 
 that a copy of this book found in the 
 possession of any person was sufficient 
 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 oi 
 125 
 
69 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 hearing ; also by their expenses and 
 charges in buying of books in English, 
 of whom some gave a load of hay for a 
 few chapters of St. James, or of St. 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 
 1646, prohibiting Coverdale's as well 
 as Tindal's Bible. 
 
 (Z) KING EDWARD AND THE 
 SWORDS.— In the dg^wning 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 forefaihers. 
 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. 
 
 126 
 
 (m) WILLIAMS AND THE 
 WELSH BIBLE.— Long before the 
 establishment of Bible Societies the 
 Rev. Peter Williams, a pious distin- 
 guished clergyman of Wales, 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 Welsh 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 he, " my dear wife, 1 can finish 
 my Bible, pay my debts, and live in 
 peace at home." 
 
 (n) THE 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 point 
 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 
 I must remain ignorant of it : reading 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 51 
 
 the Bible is out of the question," was 
 his reply. The words, however, of the 
 venerable PlatofF 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. Galitzin was not so. His 
 companions were astonished. Was he 
 become a traitor to his prince ? It was 
 impossible ; his loyalty was undoubted. 
 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." "Oh that your Majesty 
 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 cliaplain 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 ?" 
 exclaimed Alexander. " Surprised at 
 your sending for me," continued the 
 chaplain, " 1 fell upon my knees before 
 God, and besought him to teach my 
 weak lips what to speak. I felt that 
 
 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." Tiie result was a great 
 alteration in the emperor's conduct, and 
 the manifestation of great zeal in the 
 circulation of the Scriptures. 
 
 U, Inspiration of tlie Bible. 
 
 (a) WHERE 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. What books would you ad- 
 vise me to read on the evidences of 
 Christianity ?" 
 
 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, but I 
 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. What 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 
 «rw//iof the Bible." 
 
 " I would advise you, sir," repeated 
 the elder, "to read the Bible. A.nd 
 (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." 
 
 "And where shall I begin?" in- 
 127 
 
54 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 quired the unbeliever. " At the New- 
 Testament ?" 
 
 " 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 ?" 
 
 " I have been reading," replied the 
 infidel, "the moral law." 
 
 " Well, what do you think of it ?" 
 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 infi- 
 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 
 128 
 
 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 classified 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. Now 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? 
 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, which 
 surpasses the wisdom and philosophy 
 of the most enlightened ages ? He 
 lived at a period comparatively barba- 
 rous, but he has given a law in 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. I am convinced of the truth 
 of the religion of the Bible." 
 
 The infidel — infidel no longer — re- 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 54 
 
 mained to his death a firm believer in 
 the truth of Christianity. 
 
 (b) VIEWS OF THE SOUTH SEA 
 ISLANDERS.— The Rev. John Wil- 
 liams, the " Martyr of Erromanga," re- 
 lates, that at one of the annual mission- 
 ary meetings in the South Sea Islands, 
 several 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. W. " 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 V 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 V He replied, ' Why, 
 look 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 uf ? No 
 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 ! 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 
 9 
 
 rather singular one ; but it was a native 
 idea : ' When I 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 teet. 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. If I 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 of 
 God, on account of the prophecies which 
 it contains, and the fulfilment of them.' " 
 
 (c) FIRST CHAPTER OF RO- 
 MANS. — Perhaps no part of the Bible 
 occasions more surprise among the 
 heathen, than the first chapter of Ro- 
 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) WORDS 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 Newton's " Dissertation on the 
 Prophecies," when Dr. Young closed 
 the conference thus : — " My friend, there 
 are two considerations upon whteh my 
 faith in Christ is built as upon a rock- 
 
 129 
 
«4 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 The fall of man, the redemption of man, 
 and the 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 ; 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 17"91 . 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." 
 
 (e) REASONING OF THE 
 CHIEFS.— 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 iheir 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 
 130 
 
 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. 
 
 (/) THOMAS PAINE S ILENC- 
 ED <r- A gentleman of New-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 : — 
 
 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 v/orld 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, bridewell, 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. 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 54 
 
 (a) YOUNG BUCHANAN AND 
 THE HIGHLANDER.— The late 
 Rev. 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 
 refreshments. 
 
 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 
 principles 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; andcanyoii,^^ 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 do T 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 1 believe 
 that book is the only thing in creation 
 that produces and promotes holiness, I 
 conclude that it is froni God, and that 
 he is the Author of it." 
 
 [h) 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 of God ? 
 After reflecting a moment, the negro 
 replied, " You ask me, sir, how I know 
 that the Bible is the word of God ; — I 
 know it, by its effect upon my own heart. ''^ 
 
 (i) MAMGJENA'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. 
 
 ( j) CONVERSION OF ANUNDO. 
 — 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 ! Surely this is the truth P 
 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 
 131 
 
54,55 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 were internally to see and feel that 
 there 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, ' What 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 ? 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 I may^ 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 V 
 
 (k) CONDE'S ARGUMENT.— 
 Pains had been early taken by some of 
 the Prince of Conde's supposed friends 
 to shake his belief of Christianity ; he 
 always replied, ' You give yourselves a 
 great deal of unijecessary trouble ; the 
 dispersion of the Jews will always be 
 an undeniable proof to me of the truth 
 of our holy religion.' 
 
 132 
 
 TESTIMONIES TO ITS VALUE. 
 5§. Testimony of Distinguished Persons^ 
 
 (a> OF SIR WILLIAM JONES.— 
 
 Sir William Jones, whose interesting 
 writings on oriental subjects elucidated 
 many obscure paints in Scripture his- 
 tory, was a general scholar, and em- 
 bellished and adorned every subject 
 that passed under his elegant pen. On 
 the blankleaf of his Bible, the following 
 finely conceived description was found 
 written r — " 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 un'^trained 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." 
 
 (b) 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.'' 
 
 (c) OF PATRICK HENRY.— This 
 distinguished man was a native of Vir- 
 ginia, of which state he 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 all 
 the other books which ever were print- 
 ed ; yet it is my misfortune never to 
 have, till lately, found time to read it 
 with proper attention and feeling." 
 
TESTIMONY OF DISTINGUISHED PERSONS TO ITS VALUE. 
 
 55 
 
 (d) OF DR. JOHNSON.— Dr. Sam- 
 uel Johnson is distinguished as a writer 
 on morals ; his compositions have sel- 
 dom been excelled in energy of thought 
 aud 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) OR I)R. ,ERAJNIKL1N.— 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 : this is your certain interest." 
 
 (/•) OF WILLIAM COLLINS.— 
 Collins is Well tno\vn"^s ~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 BAIJTAIN.— 
 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 I despised it ; 
 long had I deemed it a class-book for 
 the credulous and ignorant ; until, hav- 
 mg investigated the gospel of Christ, 
 with an ardent desire to ascertain its 
 truth or falsity, its pages proffered to 
 my inquiries the sublimest knowledge 
 
 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 
 Whitlock, 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. I thank my 
 good God, who has given me time to 
 know him and likewise myself All 
 the comfort I have, and all the comfort I 
 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 3^our 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." 
 
 (0 OF JOHN J[.eeKE.— Locke 
 spent the lasTlourteen 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 Writings. 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 
 
&e 
 
 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 
 of the Christian religion ? " Let him 
 STUDY," said the philosopher, "the 
 Holy Scriptures, especially in the 
 New Testament. Therein are con- 
 tained the words of eternal life. 
 It has God for its author, Salva- 
 tion FOR its end, and Truth with- 
 
 OUT ANY MIXTURE OF ERROR FOR ITS 
 MATTER." 
 
 §6. Testimony of Infidels. 
 
 (a) "WE WILL 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, 
 tcx)k 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, " We will not 
 burn that book till we get a belter.^' 
 
 Soon afler this, the same gay and 
 lively young gentleman died, and on liis 
 134 
 
 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 EFPECTS 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 s^me 
 terms ; and soon saved, from his smalt 
 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 he 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 efTect 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 feith which 
 is in Christ Jesus." 
 
 (b) THE RUSSIAN MESSMATE. 
 — A minister at St. Petersburg, writes: 
 
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 ?" " 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- 
 cate^ : 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 ! 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 !" 
 
 (c) 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 impoi^nce 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 unrigrhteous- 
 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. 
 
 (d) 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. When 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 trespasses and sins ;" 
 " Walking after the course of this 
 135 
 
s» 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 world ;" " By nature the children of 
 wrath," etc. To all these, the good 
 man, in a plain and simple way, gave 
 answers. TU§ young man heard with 
 the greatest attention, and could not 
 suppress the sigh which 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 ." 
 
 §8. Conversion of Seamen. 
 
 (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 1" 
 136 
 
 exclaimed he. " I think I have heard 
 them before ; where could it be ?" 
 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 V 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 ear, 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. 
 
 (b) THE VERSE AND THE TO- 
 BACCO. — Says a correspondent jf a 
 Religious Tract Society : — On board a 
 vessel at Horsleydown, I found only an 
 old shipkeepcr. I asked 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 formerly a great 
 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, " Biass- 
 ed be God, I would not part with it, and 
 the hopes I have of salvation, for ten 
 thousand worlds." 
 
 c (c) " WHAT BOOK IS THIS ?"— 
 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 
 
CONVERSION OF SEAMEN. 
 
 5§ 
 
 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 I had 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 present I 
 have not beheld the light of day ; but, 
 sir, though I was deprived of sight, I 
 was not deprived of sin. I was 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 V I said 
 I had no objection : he read the book to 
 me. I felt interested, and, at the end 
 of his reading, I said, ' Tell me what 
 book you have read.' ' Never mind, 
 said lie, ' 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 V 
 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 this I 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 (|ellar 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 hundred 
 men, and many dissipated females. The 
 captain said, " Madam, U will be of no 
 avail ; you will only meet with abuse." 
 She answered, " With your leave I'll 
 go." " Certainly, madam," he re- 
 plied ; and she went. Something oc- 
 curred during th'e 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 
 sermori^. As she was returning through 
 the churchyard, a gentleman accosted 
 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, ajid desiring him 
 to read it twice ?" "A^e§, sir," she re- 
 plied. He added, " I am the man to 
 whom you gave it, and I have been 
 preaching to you to-day. Through 
 your instrumentality God has brought 
 me to love that book which once I de- 
 SDified. 
 
 (e)/rHE,WIDpW'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 I 
 
 \ 
 
58 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 children in those virtuous and religious 
 habits, which promote tlie present hap- 
 piness and the immortal welfare of man. 
 Her efforts were crowned with the best 
 success, so far as the female branches 
 of her family were concerned. But, 
 alas ! 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 
 several times wrecked, but said he had 
 138 
 
 never been so dj-eadfully destitute as he 
 was some years back, when himself and 
 a fine young gentleman were the only in- 
 dividuals, of a whole ship's crew, that 
 . 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 ?" said the trembling, 
 astonished mother. " Yes, madam, every 
 word of it." And then, drawing from 
 his ragged jacket a little book, much 
 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, " Now, 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. " No, 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, for the advancement of religion 
 among sailors, when he related the fol- 
 lowing facts : — 
 
CONVERSION OF SEAMEN. 
 
 58 
 
 " 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 foe 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 when I tell you that that 
 young man is my men son, you will see 
 that 1 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 I ran 
 aft, and for 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. I asked 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 I was going to die. He neve^lij^y 
 
 troubled himself with these things ; her 
 left Bibles and prayer-books to the 
 priests. Several days thus passed in .^ 
 the greatest torment, this dreadful oath 
 always before me, and the d^vil con- 
 tinually harassing me with the dread- 
 ful thought, "1 shall be damned,^^ '^•. 'v 
 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 trifles 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 ! " 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 I laid 
 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 con- 
 science, though I continued mournful 
 and bowed down until last evening, on 
 board the Mayflower, 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. 
 
 to my friends to tell them what great 
 thhigs 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 
 BRAxNDY BOTTLE.— At an anni- 
 versa ry 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 
 .louse 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 I may 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, 
 called 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 half 
 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- 
 140 
 
 come with joy and gratitude at the un- 
 expected scene, made an impression on 
 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. 
 
 (h) pickpoc:;ket at an an. 
 
 NIVERSARY.— The first meeting 
 of the Shoreditch Bible Association 
 was held in the church, which was 
 very much crowded. Some weeks 
 afterwards, the collectors called 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 lodger, 
 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, I will 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. I will now tell you 
 my short history. Two years ago, I 
 was one of the most profligate young 
 
CONVERSION OF THE PROFLIGATE AND VICIOUS. 
 
 59 
 
 men in the city of London. I was a 
 common pickpocket. At your a?mi- 
 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, I hur- 
 ried away, threw 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." 
 
 (c) 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, ahd of so cruel and 
 ferocious a disposition, as in some in- 
 stances to extinguish his natural aflTec- 
 tion for his own offspring. One day, 
 taking his little son by the hand, who 
 was 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 
 bidden 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 alrQady begun to play 
 around his heart. While he lay in 
 these mortal agonies, he fixed his eyes 
 steadfastly upon little Jack, and having 
 yet power to speak, a^ked the boy who 
 he was, and whence he came ? 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 
 
50,60 
 
 BIBLE 
 
 existence; but finally, in hope^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." Ashe 
 ended the quotation his voice faltered, 
 andjie 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 1 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 friend'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 cut my 
 sins in pieces, and led me to Christ as 
 my Saviour. Oh that I could recall my 
 property and murdered time : all, all 
 should be spent in distributing this bless- 
 ed book !" 
 
 H8 
 
 60. Conversion of In/idels. 
 
 (a) ROCHESTER AND IS. LIIL 
 
 — It is well known that this extraordi- 
 naiy 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 biographera 
 has described him as " a great 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. 
 
 (b) 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 seardhed 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 wa^ a 
 temptation of Satan ; that God has given 
 
CONVERSION OF INFIDELS. 
 
 60 
 
 to us eternal life, and this life is in his 
 Son." After continuing 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. 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 {(i) CAUGHT WITH GUILE.— 
 Mr. Robert Aitkin, a bookseller of 
 Philadelphia, was the first person who 
 printed a Bible in that city. While he 
 kept a bookstore, a person called on 
 him, and inquired if he had Paine's 
 " Age of Reason" for sale. He told 
 him 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 trunk. The young 
 man entered upon his college career. 
 The restraints of a pious education 
 were soon broken ofT, 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, he de- 
 termined that he would use it as waste 
 paper, on which to wipe his razor while 
 shaving. Accordingly, every time he 
 143 
 
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. 
 
 (/) 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 very 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, I could not persuade 
 myself that Paine's report was quite ex- 
 l^ act, or that the Bible was quite so absurd 
 a book as he represented it. I resolved 
 therefore that I would 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 
 Lf- contained in it, and the strong evidence 
 v./ 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 in Jesus, and my heart was pene- 
 144 
 
 trated with a sense of obligation I had 
 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) THE 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 p«assion 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. 
 
 {h) A BIBLE LEFT IN A BARN. 
 — When the committee of a Bible Asso- 
 ciation, in the state of New-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 
 
CONVERSION OF PAPISTS. 
 
 60,61 
 
 search of the rejected volume. He 
 turned to the passage which records the 
 circumstances connected with the birth 
 of 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. 
 
 (i) 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, that 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. Conversion 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 
 afflicted to leave her home. In the 
 afternoon I went, and found the lowly 
 dwelling, situated in a small dirty street, 
 inhabited by the poor. From the aspect 
 10 
 
 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 Water- 
 loo. I accompanied him in his cam- 
 paigns, and, being kept by almighty 
 power, was always • noticed by the 
 officers for my propriety of conduct, 
 which procured favors both for my 
 husband and children. At the termina- 
 tion of the late war, we lodged in West- 
 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 
 145 
 
61 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 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 
 to 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." 
 
 (h) 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 148 
 
 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 
 1830, 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 boat 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 w^orth 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, 1840j was Professor Pelet of Ge- 
 
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- 
 yond all that we can telL A man in a 
 little village in France, when he was 
 young, wished to be a monk. That was 
 prevented. 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 hmiself to the condition of a 
 simple workman, but yet he found no 
 peace. The church edifice of the vil- 
 lage 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 ane of 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." 
 
 62. Conversion of Soldiers, 
 
 (a) THE BIBLE IN A PRISON- 
 SHIP. — In a report of the Nismes Bible 
 Society, 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 
 tend 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 hegrt 
 bleeds for your 'losses and privations, 
 nor is it in my power to remedy then: ; 
 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 !' 
 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." 
 
 (b) 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 !" 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 
 
«2, 6S 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) THE POWER OF DIVINE 
 TRUTH.— 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 loading 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. 
 
 (d) 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? When he 
 was an apprentice in this city, the civil 
 
 148 
 
 war began ; his inclination led him inta 
 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 
 little 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 shorl 
 time, exposed to the thickest of 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. 
 
 61. Conversion 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 
 
CONVERSION OF THE LEARNED AND EMINENT. 
 
 63 
 
 friendly manner, but by one in particu- 
 lar, who afforded them some of the most 
 delightful 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. Wishing to try whether, in my 
 blindness, I could distinguish 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 I read ! " He here opened the 
 Bible, and read Isa. 42 : 16, " ' And I 
 will bring the blind by a way that they 
 knew not; I will lead them in paths 
 that they have not known : I will make 
 darkness light before them, and crooked 
 things straight. These things will 1 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. " With 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 and in the same place. 
 Shortly afterwards I was 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, which he did." The 
 
 Bible he continued to esteem as his 
 greatest earthly treasure. 
 
 (b) CONVERSION OF A DOC- 
 TOR OF DIVINITY.— A doctor of 
 divinity in Silesia, to whom the Rev. ^ 
 Mr. Reich ardt, 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 frony 
 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. 
 
 (c) WILBERFORCE'S CONVER- 
 SION. — From a speech delivered by 
 Joseph John 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 j)eople all cried, " We 
 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. W. said, re- 
 garding him, " that he thought he car- 
 ried things too far ;" to which Mr. Mil- 
 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. Wilberforce, that he was 
 revolutionized ; he became a new man ; 
 hTid 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, wo- 
 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 tor 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 official person 
 in that district, and I mention it because 
 some persons tell you that nothing is 
 done by the missionaries. 1 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 
 district are particularly known as being 
 so litigious and troublesome, that they 
 150 
 
 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. 
 
 (h) 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 furiher 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 liie, 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, and 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
MISCELLANEOUS CONVERSIONS. 
 
 64,65 
 
 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 thenO) 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 1o 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 Sulya-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. Whence 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. 
 
 69. Miscellaneous Conversions. 
 
 (a) CONVERSION OF AUGUS- 
 TINE. — 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 impiety — weighed 
 heavily on his soul. Lying 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 ho 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 tliirteenth 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." 
 
 (b) THE BIBLE IN THE WAY. 
 — 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 he 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 
 152 
 
 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 1 am 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 1 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 be : 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 
 
BENEFIT TO 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 ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they live in that house," 
 pointing to a cabin near by. 
 
 " Do your parents pray ?" " No, sir." 
 
 " Why do they not pray ?" 
 
 " 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 
 to 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 
 a small 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, M'hile her husband proceeded to 
 take care of the horse. As he came in, 
 the missionary addressed him : " Do 
 you love the Lord Jesus Christ ?" 
 "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- 
 
 ing, and reading the Bible ; and told 
 me he would give me a sixpence if I 
 would read the 8d 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 w-ent 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 !" 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 !" 
 
 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 WORLD FOR MY 
 BIBLE. — 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 offer. 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." 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 lbs 
 
66 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 want and trouble have come upon me, 
 I don't know what I should have done 
 indeed, if 1 had not had the promises 
 of this book for my stay and support." 
 
 (c) SCRIPTURE PRACTICALLY 
 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 affliction, 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 those 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. 
 
 (d) THE DYING SOLDIER.— In 
 the memorable 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. 
 
 154 
 
 (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, imi- 
 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 ?" "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 suffocated. 
 
 (/) 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 ?" He said, " No, mo- 
 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 ?" 
 His father said, " I will tell you another 
 time, John." The boy appeared disap- 
 pointed, and walked away. 
 
 A few days afler, the father took his 
 son to a house where was a woman 
 very ill 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 wo- 
 
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 
 
 66, or 
 
 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 suifer as I do, if it were not 
 for my good." He then said, " How is 
 it that you find your sufferings do you 
 good ?" 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 I am 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 good 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 v/hen 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 
 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 of one hundred tenements which 
 had been destroyed by fire, in the city 
 of New- York, Dr. 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-day, and anudder*s to-morrow." 
 
 " Have you saved nothing but the 
 Bible ?" " Noting but one trunk o' 
 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 engao-ed, that if the 
 New Testament, by any accidental 
 circumstances, should be lost, 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. 
 
 (b) 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 
 
%v 
 
 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 Prsetorium, 
 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 ijistantly 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 bow my head to be 
 sacrificed to thee, who livest to all 
 eternity." 
 
 (c) 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 ai*e taught and~n6urished 
 by: Ihe Holy Scriptures, are- ready to 
 guffer^ thousand deaths rather than 
 permit (rnie tittle of the Sciiptures to be 
 
 (f]) 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 
 often 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 
 156 
 
 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 ?" " 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 a 
 good book or not ?" " Yes, we con- 
 fess it is good," said they. " If you 
 allow it to be good," replied the wo- 
 
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 
 
 Ot 
 
 man, " why would you have me cast it 
 into 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 market-place 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 ag'ain 
 repeated the Lord's prayer, she was 
 immediately strangled. 
 
 (/) MONEY LOST— BIBLE SAV- 
 ED. — Fox, the martyrologist, informs 
 us 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 upon 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 Maiden 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 j which, when he had by 
 diligence eflected, 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 with anger at hearing 
 that his son denied that 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. 
 T^e 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. 
 
 (h) OLD ROBERT'S GIRDLE.— 
 A singular instance of attachment to 
 157 
 
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- 
 lotting 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 ; and 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." 
 
 (i) 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 jive 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 ^e 
 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." 
 
 (j) 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 
 158 
 
 ink on black paper, in letters an inch 
 long, that he might enjoy the consola- 
 tions of the gospel of Christ. 
 
 {k) 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 short-hand for his own use, fearing 
 V the re-establishment of popery, and the 
 suppression of the Holv 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 finished, 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 year 
 for a New Testament. 
 
 {m) 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.' 
 
 (n) BIBLE PRIZED ABOVE 
 FREEDOM.— The Rev. Mr. Eraser, 
 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 
 
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 
 
 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 got 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 book ?" 
 " 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. 
 
 (o) 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 
 Wales, in 1806, was announced, the 
 Welsh 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 ofl 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) THE DYING INDIAN BOY. 
 — The missionary, on visiting him, says, 
 " I found him dying of consumption, and 
 in a state ofthe 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 halfway back through the 
 lake, I remembered that I had lefl my 
 Bible behind me. I directly turned 
 round, and was 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 
 I am gone, and it may do some one 
 else good." 
 
 (q) DESIRE FOR THE BIBLE. 
 — Long 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 
 Wales. Mr. Nott having been taken 
 ill, after his luggage had been put on 
 board, was obliged to remain in Sydney, 
 but sent on 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. 
 159 
 
ei' 
 
 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 
 go. 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." 
 
 (r) 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 
 160 
 
 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 ho was 
 afraid to trust it to take a copy in writ- 
 ing. " Where will you get the paper ?" 
 asked the gentleman. " I will buy it." 
 " And the pens and ink ?" " I will 
 buy them." "Where will you find a 
 place ?" " If your honor will allow me 
 your hall, I will come after I 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. 
 
 {s) 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. Williams asked, " But 
 where did you obtain your knowledge ?" 
 " Why," said he, " as the people re- 
 turn from the services, I take my seat 
 by the way-side, 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 
 
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 
 
 67 
 
 favored parts of Christendom, to the 
 blush ! 
 
 (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." 
 
 (u) TAHITIAN 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 interi'ogated. 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 our 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. 
 
 {v) THE WOMAN AND* THE 
 SHEPHERD BOY.— The late cele- 
 brated Robinson, of Cambridge, once 
 said, " We 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 
 
 li 
 
 could not read ; but there was one more 
 cottage near, and in it a little boy, a 
 shepherd's son, who could read ; but 
 he, 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.' " 
 
 (w) BIBLE READ WITH 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 person, who now 
 lives in a village not far 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, ^lo^even 
 had succeeded, while she was yet ,j| 
 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, vshe 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 con- 
 trives to raise some vegetables. All 
 this obliterates her sense of touch, 
 which, therefore, js far less delicate 
 than that of other blind, who are less 
 161 
 
m 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 skillful or in easier circumstances, and 
 hence are not obliged to have recourse 
 ta 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- 
 enly Father, food of my soul ! I must 
 part with thee !" But what is her sur- 
 prise ! her lips, more delicate than her 
 lingers, 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. 
 
 fi8. "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 reading it to his 
 wife, by the light of a glimmering lamp, 
 till one or two in the morning. It was 
 162 
 
 astonishing to those who visited him how 
 rapidly he proceeded, not merely to 
 read and comprehend, but even to com- 
 pare different parts of the Avord 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 mucn better ao 
 quainted with their historical conten*.-* 
 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 be a hypocrite ; I 
 would r-ather die from want than be- 
 come one. Since I read this book, I 
 can no longer give up my conscience to 
 another." 
 
 (b) 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 ofl^ce it was to arrange the 
 library room, has been oflen 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." 
 
 (c) CLUSTER OF EXAMPLES. 
 — The emperor Thcodosius 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, 
 
FAMILIARITY WITH THE BIBLE. 
 
 6S,6d 
 
 together with a large commentary, 
 fourteen, times. 
 
 Sir Henry Wot ten, 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 Boniygl, 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 Psalnns 
 over twelve times a year, the New 
 Testament thrice, and the other parts of 
 the Old Testament, once. Susannah, 
 'countess 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 ; five in the morning, five 
 after dinner, and five in the eyening, 
 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 Willis, 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 j 
 New Testament, eight times over, and 
 had proceeded as far as the book of Job 
 
 in his ninth reading, when his medita- 
 tions were terminated by 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 Scot- 
 land, a blind old beggar, known to all 
 the country round by the name of Blind 
 Alick, v/ho 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. Ali(;k 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 
 scholai*s, 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 lime 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, at 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 NeWj 
 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 ^^erse 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 over again. 
 (b) DAVIDSAUNDERS.— 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 
 i God ! through his mercy I learned to 
 read when I was a boy. I believe there 
 is no day, for the last thirty years, that 
 164 
 
 I have not peeped at my Bible. If we 
 can't find time to read a chapter, I defy 
 any man to say he ean't frndf time to 
 read a verse ; and a single text, well 
 followed and put in practice every day, 
 would make no bad figure at the j-ear'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 neiW year's day to new 
 year's day ; and if children wem brought 
 up to it, they would come to look ifbr 
 their text as naturally as they do for 
 their break flist. I can say the greatest 
 part of the Bible by heart. 
 
 (c) 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 tlie lesser 
 prophets, as also the epistles of the New 
 Testament ; and, that he might retain 
 this ir«'aluable treasure, he stated that 
 it was his practice to repeat them from 
 memory, without a book, once a year. 
 
 (d) HON. SAMUEL HUBBARD. 
 — 41on. 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 know/ledge 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 cf 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 nigi^t and day in reading the 
 Scriptures, and got much of them by 
 heart. 
 
 Of one Marcus, a primitive Christian, 
 who was well instructed in the morning 
 
THE BIBLE NEGLECTED OR REJECTED. 
 
 to 
 
 of life, it is recorded, that he became so 
 expert in the Scriptures, when he was 
 but 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 
 yoiang. 
 
 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 Threlkfeld, of 
 Rochdale, 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 or 
 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 WORDS OF SALMA.- 
 
 SIUS. — Salmasius, one of the most 
 consummate scholars of his time, saw 
 cause to exclaim bitterly against him- 
 self. " Oh !" 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.^' 
 
 (h) 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 instance I 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 
 
vo 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 oh !" 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 !" 
 
 Will not the lamentation of this sol- 
 dier be the bitter lamentation of multi- 
 tudes in the bottomless pit, to all eter- 
 nity ? 
 
 '(c) DYING WORDS OF SIR 
 THOMAS SMITH.— This eminent 
 man was secretary of state to Queen 
 Elizabeth. \ short time before his 
 death he sent to his friends, the bishops 
 of Winchester and Worcester, 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, Avho 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 ?" " 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 !" The good 
 minister, knowing the power of prayer, 
 and that many a sinner had found for- 
 166 
 
 giveness, even at the eleventh hour, 
 urged him to pray. Instantly he cried 
 out, in accents most dreadful, " I can't 
 pray, and I won't pray !" He then 
 turned his head on his pillow, and ex- 
 pired ! 
 
 " Shonld all the forms that men devise, 
 Assault my faith with treacherous art, 
 I'd call them vanity and lies, 
 And bind the Bible to my heart." 
 
 (e) TOO LATE TO READ.— A 
 person in Birmingham, who lived in 
 the neglect of the worship of Gtxl, 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 ! he was 
 disappointed ; it was too late ; for, in 
 the vei'y act of reaching it from the 
 shelf, he sunk down and immediately 
 expired. 
 
 (/) "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. Fie spoke 
 to him of his past ways. The poor 
 creature said, " It 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 ?" When 
 urged to look to Christ, he said, " I tell 
 you it's of no use now; 'lis too late, 
 'tis too late. Once I could pray, but 
 now I can't." He frequently repeated, 
 " I cannot pray ; I will not pray." He 
 shortly afterwards expired, uttering the 
 i most dreadful imprecations agsi'n='' .iome 
 
ZEAL IN CIRCULATING TIIS BIBLE. 
 
 91 
 
 of his companions in iniquity who came 
 to see him, and now and then saying. 
 '^ My Bible ! Oh, tiie 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 translatioTi 
 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- 
 Lttion of Grorius, "On the Truth of the 
 Christian Religion," into Arabic ; of 
 which he printed an edition in quai'to, 
 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 American 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, bo- 
 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 laniTuacre. He died in 1691. 
 
 (h) THE USEFUL FARMER.— In 
 
 R Co. says a colporteur, in 1814, 
 
 is a plain farmer, of some property, 
 who, when he embraced Christ, six 
 or seven years since, made a willing 
 surrender of all to him. Since that 
 time his life has been a series of efforts 
 at iiome 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- 
 tians, that this faithful servant of his 
 Master has purchased at his own ex- 
 pense, and distributed with his own hand, 
 between 500 and 600 Bibles and Testa- 
 ments within the last two or three years. 
 Many precious souls have been led to 
 Christ by his efforts. Being a large 
 former, he has many Romanists in his 
 employ, over whom he exerts a strong 
 influence. " Treat them kindl)*" and 
 give them Bibles and good books," is 
 his motto. As he came into church, 
 he brought 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 |X)int 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. Pelersburgh for her sphere, and 
 perambulated it alone ; and succeeded 
 beyond all expectations. In the course 
 of a ^ew months, she sold more than 
 167 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 one thousand five hundred Bibles, and 
 Testaments, and Psalters ; and in this 
 blessed work she continued persevering- 
 ly to engage. Hundreds derived advan- 
 tage from her visits. 
 
 72. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) THE SHIPWRECKED CREW. 
 — A narrative was some time ago pub- 
 lished in London, of a voyage to the 
 3outh 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 measure, 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 
 on 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, 
 168 
 
 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. 
 
 (J) THE HINDOO'S REPROOF— 
 Lukewarmness, or want of zeal, on the 
 part of Christians, in communicating 
 the precious oracles of God to thoso 
 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. 'Ihe 
 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 
 as? We have not kept back ours 
 from you : why have you not given ills 
 yours V " Well might he say this, if 
 his ear 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." 
 
 (c) 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." 
 
 (d) AN OBJECTION APTLY AN- 
 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 
 
 j smartly replied, " Why, madam, what 
 j can be easier to understand than the 
 ! seventh ccymmandment, ' Thou shalt not 
 I commit adultery ?'" 
 I {f) INFIDELITY PREVENTED. 
 ; — A mother of a family was married 
 
BLASPHEMY. 
 
 72 
 
 to an infidel who made jest 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 
 from the influence of a father, whose 
 sendments were so openly opposed to 
 her own. This was her answer. Be- 
 cause, tc the authority of a flither 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. I was silent that I 
 might allow it to speak. Did they 
 propose a question ? did they commit 
 ' any fault ? 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 Wright, who were ac- 
 customed to meet in Concert Hal], 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- 
 RANNY. — About three weeks ago, 
 says the London Methodist Magazine, 
 D. H., of Bowling-street, Westminster, 
 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 
 
 I ail against the moral government of 
 God. At the death of his brother and 
 child, Satanic frenzy seemed to take 
 possession of him. With 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 
 flicrht. 
 
 7c) 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 tiieir 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 
 
T8 
 
 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 
 kneXv 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." 
 
 (d) THE BLASPHEMOUS SOL- 
 DIERS.— 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- 
 pel ier. 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 ofthe 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 
 often paces from the tree, when a flash 
 of lightning struck four of the soldiers 
 dead, and wounded the fifth in such a 
 manner, that his life was despaired of. 
 170 
 
 (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 com- 
 munity had been disturbed with riots 
 and mobs ; but, on making application 
 to the civil magistrate, these tumults 
 had been efiectually 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 slie 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, }}e would wring his neck ! 
 Suddenly a violent spasm seized the 
 neck ofthe 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 statements 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 moro 
 
BLASPHEMY. 
 
 73 
 
 fully, and cites other authorities in the 
 neighborhood where he lives. 
 
 ig) 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, 
 1 would heave this bucket at his head !" 
 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 eye-witness. May it vserve as 
 a solemn warning against the practice 
 of taking God's holv name in vain. 
 
 {h) 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 kepi 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 its trunk • his 
 
 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. 
 
 (0 I DISPOSE AS WELL AS 
 PROPOSE.— When 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 proverb, " Man 
 proposes, but God disposes;" to which 
 he indignantly replied, " I dispose as 
 well as propose." A Christian lady 
 on hearing the impious boast, remarked, 
 "I set that down as the turning-point 
 of Bonaparte'sf 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. 
 
 (j) THE FATAL CROWN.— 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 now 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 
 I correctness. 
 
 I {k) THE BLASPHEMOUS SAIL- 
 i OR. — The following fact took place in 
 171 
 
T3 
 
 BLASPHEMY. 
 
 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 a sudden should strike 
 yo^i 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." We 
 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. 
 
 {]) 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 owner 
 becoming displeased, resolved to quit 
 172 
 
 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 ! 
 
 (m) 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 
 Newburg, 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. Now 
 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. IL, another of the 
 same party, was found dead 1n 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 tliem ; 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 New- York ; and 
 again and again published to the world. 
 
BOOKS, RELIGIOUS— USEFULNESS OF. 
 
 74 
 
 BOOKS, RELIGIOUS— USEFULNESS OF. 
 
 74. In Effecting Conversions. 
 
 (a) MR. VENN AND THE HO- 
 TEL WAITER.— A year or two after 
 the publication of his Complete Duty of 
 MaxM, 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 of 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 f^und 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- 
 sation which Mr. Venn had had with 
 
 him, and the book which he had sent 
 him ; and which he had read again and 
 again, with increa.sing comfort and ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 (b) PIKE'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 " Persuasives to Early Piety " 
 eight years since, by the Rev. Mr. Rice, 
 the reading of which God blessed to 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
V4 
 
 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 WELL SPENT DOL- 
 LAR. — At a public trapt meeting in 
 the Tabernacle, New-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 chqrch ; 
 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 
 
 174 
 
 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 kind 
 offer, said she, and would do so with 
 pleasure if I thought they would prove 
 as interesting as the new novels I have 
 just received, at the same time proffer- 
 ing me a favorite one. I selected Pikers 
 Persuasives 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 her such kind 
 of reading was so dry and insipid, 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- 
 guage of the last prayer her own. 
 
 (/) DODDRIDGE AND THE 
 NOVEL READER.— At a meeting of 
 
 the United Brethren, at E , last 
 
 evening, says a colporteur, 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 Missionary in Asia. 
 
IN PROMOTING CONVERSIONS. 
 
 74L 
 
 {g) DODDRIDGE AND SHAK- 
 SPEARE.— 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 
 teas 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. 
 
 JV , 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 Rogue's Essay in German. Dur- 
 ing my stay in New- 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 tc 
 him, but would ask him to keep it, in 
 remembrance of our conversation. 
 
 You can imagine my feelings when a 
 tew weeks ajro I read Dr. F 's 
 
 public recantation of infidelity, 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 ! 
 
 (z) 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. While thus 
 revelling in sensuality, Baxter^s Call 
 fell into my hands. I took it up with 
 one of Ballou's works, (for 1 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." 
 
 (;■) THE LAD AND THE 
 SAINTS' REST.— Rev. Mr. Willey, 
 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, after 
 175 
 
T5 
 
 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, 
 OQ the Sabbath, in Boston, he wandered 
 into the very church where the meeting 
 was then assembled, where, under the 
 appeals of the venerable Griffin, 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. W.) was found and 
 I'ead, — 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. 
 
 7§. In Promoting Revivals. 
 
 (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 
 176 
 
 members of the visible church. That 
 young man became a preacher of the 
 gospel to a Presbyterian church. 
 
 (b) ALLEINE'S ALARM IN COL- 
 LEGE.— i2e/«/etZ by the Rev. Dr, Hill, 
 of Va. — Said the venerable father, " 1 
 have abundant cause for interest in this 
 plan of circulating good and pious books, 
 1 lost my sainted mother when 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, (Hampden 
 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. Al 
 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 AUeine^s 
 Alarm, an old black book, which looked 
 as if it might have been handled b\ 
 successive generations for one hundred 
 years. When 1 got it, I locked my 
 room and lay on my bed reading it, 
 when a student knocked at my door ; and 
 although I 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, — " Why 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 with 
 
 deep agitation, " Oh H , you ma> 
 
 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. 
 We invited the other two, and held a 
 
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 sucli prayer I never lieard the 
 like 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 four of 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 ? 
 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 now 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 sue- 
 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 privileaje 
 112 
 
 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 p<r, 
 the heart ; and in a few days » the 
 teacher and nearly every scholar was 
 converted, besides many in the district. 
 {d) THE JUDGE AND THE 
 LA WYERS.—Judge , of Tennes- 
 see, who was hopefully converted by a 
 blessing on the perusal of Nelson's 
 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 witls 
 which some two hundred individua'-* 
 were hopefully converted and gathei 
 ed into the church. That copy of 
 Nelson was sold them by a colporteur. 
 A member of Congress was among the 
 converts. 
 
 (I) RESULTS OF READING DOD- 
 DRIDGE.—In 1807 a clergyman left 
 the city of Hartford for the far West — 
 as far as Whitestown, New- 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 ? She did not. " 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 ? Why 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. 
 177 
 
75,76 
 
 CARD-PLAYING. 
 
 revival followed ; and by and by we 
 sent for a minister, and formed a 
 church." The church at Wyoming 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 ? 
 
 (m) 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 
 
 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-PLAYING. 
 
 (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 
 the 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 — Mr. 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 afFend, 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 
 178 
 
 from being offended at the hint 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 
 plav 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-plaving. 
 
 (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 
 
CASTE, 
 
 76,^7 
 
 exception of one thing. " And what is 
 that, madam V asked Mr. R. " Cards, 
 sir." "You think you could not be 
 happy without them ?" '• No, sir, 1 
 know I 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 shrewdest 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 ?" " I am no card-player," said 
 the doctor, with great address, " but I 
 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 ?" 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, ttow do 
 you act in the field of Juggernaut ? 
 Do you not eat there with the lowest 
 caste of India ? 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 
 
79,79 
 
 CENSURE-^ENSORIQUSNES^— CHILDRBK. 
 
 78. CENSURE-^CENSORIOUSNESS. 
 
 (a) 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 ?" I an- 
 swered, " A year ago, when I made a 
 collection for the expense of repairing 
 the Foundry, you subscribed five gui- 
 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 ?" (I did so between three and 
 four years.) 1 replied, " It has much 
 
 conduced to my health." He answered^ 
 " I believe it has. But did you not da 
 it likewise to save money ?" 1 said I 
 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. 
 I know 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 he a covetous man I 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 79. Mffral and Religions 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- 
 ly impressed on his mind ; he became a 
 • humble penitent, and lived to be a shin- 
 ing light in the Christian community 
 180 
 
 with which he was afterwards con- 
 nected. 
 
 {h) FAiVfH^¥_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 becn,^ 
 by some means, neglected one morning, 
 and the child was, as it were, out of its 
 element. At length, he came to hia 
 father as he sat, and just as the family 
 were going to dinner, the little reprover, 
 leaning on his father's knee, sard, 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 ?" 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS LNFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 79 
 
 who 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 1 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." 
 
 (d) 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, 
 he had not a convenient place for his 
 .secret devotions ; but unwilling to omit 
 what he khew to be his duty, he went 
 into 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 
 deep with him. After the gentlemaa 
 
 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 gospel. 
 
 {e) 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 
 prayer. 
 
 (/) 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 piety. 
 
 (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 
 
•8^ 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 that you may become as happy as I am ; 
 otherwise, when you go hence, you will 
 not be with the Lord." This exhorta- 
 tion from a dying child made such an 
 impression upon the old woman'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. 
 
 (h) THE SAILOR REPROVED. 
 — A very profane and profligate sailor, 
 I 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 the 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 retufned 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. 
 
 (z) 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. , I am 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 
 f speaking ?" " Tell the gentleman your- 
 self, my child," said my friend, " what 
 1S2 
 
 God has done for you, and what he has 
 been trying to do for him." 
 
 From the simple story of the girl, 1 
 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 tc 
 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 heV 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 wtienever 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, " 1 
 did not care lor 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 ? not one month, which 
 many think too long to wait for an an- 
 swer to prayer ; but eighteen months^ f 
 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 
 
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 T9 
 
 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. 1 told 
 him I had laid nothing up against him, 
 and asked him to pray for himself Fie 
 knelt down by my side, but could 
 only say, ' O Lord, forgive, forgive, 
 O Lord, forgive;' 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. 
 
 (j) LITTLE BOY'S ENTREATY. 
 — While 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'a stand ; 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 Pledge ! 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 !" 
 
 (k) 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 liall ; 
 
 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 ;" 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 orison ; 
 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 ?" " Yes, yes, my sweet 
 pet, pray ;" and she lifted up her tiny 
 hands, closed her eyes, and prayed, 
 " O God ! spare, oh, spare my dear 
 papa !" That prayer was wafted 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. Wife 
 and child were both clasped to his 
 bosom, and in penitence he said, " My 
 child, you have saved your father from 
 the grave of a drunkard. Pll sign ike 
 pledge .'" 
 
 (c) THE CHILD'S REPROOF OF 
 AN IRRELIGIOUS FATHER.— 
 The father of a little boy in Phila- 
 delphia, an irreligious man, offered 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 Sabbath 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 
 load 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 ! 
 I shall 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 ?" "Yes, my dear," she replied, 
 " but do not be angry, I love Jesus bet- 
 ter." 
 
 {h) 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. 1 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 V 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. 
 
 (c) WILL YOU MEET ME 
 THERE, FATHER?— At a public 
 meeting of the London City Mission, in 
 184 
 
 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 fjither 
 went up stairs, approached the bed-side 
 of his dying child, and while the father 
 was looking upon him, the child said, 
 " Father, 1 am very happy ; I am going 
 to heaven ; will you meet me there, fa- 
 ther ?" and immediately expired. T'iiis 
 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 t^is season of mental 
 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 
 
DIVINITY OF CHRIST. 
 
 §0, 81 
 
 he is now cherishing the hope, that he 
 shall meel: his child in heaven. 
 
 (^)THE UNVVELCOiVIE 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 ; I have 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 j " 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 v/eeks, observed 
 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 
 hastened 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 1 do not under- 
 stand." The clergyman promised to 
 go, and went, though the rain poured 
 dow^n 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. 
 
 81. Divinity of Christ. ^"^^^ ^^^® ^^^ °^' ^^^ ^ " Sir," he replied, 
 
 "I am sorry you have put such a 
 (a) THE COBBLER'S CONCLU- question to me before my children, 
 SION. — A poor man, unable to read, although I think I can give you a satis- 
 who obtained his livelihood by mending flictory answer. You know, sir, when 
 old shoes, was asked by an A rian | I first became concerned about my soul, 
 minister, how he knew that Jesus Christ I 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- 
 thodisls." " 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 miser}'' 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." 
 {b) AElAJ^jCQIiJEQUNDED.— 
 Two of Dr. Priestly's followers, emi- 
 i nent men, once called on an old gentle- 
 man of the Society of Friends, to ask 
 ; what was his opinion of the person of 
 i Christ. After a little consideration, he 
 ' replied : — " The apostle says, We preach 
 ; Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stum- 
 1 bling-block, because they expected a 
 I 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 reply. 
 
 (c) 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 )'^our 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.' " 
 
 (d) 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 tne 
 inspired volume is made to appear. He 
 that watereth, shall be watered also him- 
 self. 
 
 (e) " THE GOD WA.J WITHIN." 
 — While Mr. Kirkland was a mission- 
 ary to the Oneidas, being unwell, 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. Are these, then, your only views 
 of the Savior ? 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 Christology it is stated 
 that a deist, visiting the sacred places 
 of Palestine, was shown the clefls of 
 Mount Calvary. Examining them nar- 
 rowly and critically, he turned in 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 81, §2 
 
 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, " 1 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 ! The religion 
 of Christ is a mystery, which subsists by 
 its own force, and proceeds from a mind 
 which is not a human mind. We 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, Csesar, Charlemagne, 
 and myself, founded empires; but on 
 what foundation did we rest the crea- 
 tions of our genius ? Upon force. 
 Jesus Christ founded an empire upon 
 love ; and at this hour, millions of men 
 would die for him ! 
 
 " 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- 
 peror added, " If you do not perceive 
 that Jesus Christ is God I did wrong to 
 appoint you general !" 
 
 82. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) 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 ! what's the matter 
 with you ?" The negro began to tell 
 his tale of wo, 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 Wap- 
 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 ?" 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 mournino; 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 
 
 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. 
 
 [a) THE FIRST HOSPITAL.— 
 
 The first hospital for the reception of 
 the diseased and the infirm was founded 
 atEdessa, 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 
 be 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- 
 18a 
 
 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 ?" 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 now 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, 
 
CHRISTIANITY, CHARACTER OF. 
 
 m 
 
 haY« 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." 
 
 (c) 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 words," 
 said he, " take hold on my very heart ; 
 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 ! When 
 Burmans make oflTerings 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." 
 
 {d) 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." " Wept !" said his 
 friend ; " what occasioned you to 
 weep?" "Why," 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 
 1R9 
 
M 
 
 CHRISTIANITY, CHARACTER OF. 
 
 nothing, nothing can arise,' not even 
 sorrow.*' 
 
 (/) THE TREE JUDGED BY 
 ITS FRUIT.— When Mr. Gulzlaff, 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. 
 
 (h) 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. The 
 conversation happening to turn upon the 
 
 affairs of England, " I think, my Lord,'* 
 said Madame C, " that the parliament 
 of England consists of five or six hun- 
 dred of the best informed men in the 
 kingdom ?" 
 
 " True, madame, they are generally 
 supposed to be so." 
 
 " What then can be the reason they 
 tolerate so great an absurdity, as the 
 Christian religion ?" " 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." 
 
 (j) 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? 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 
 
 84. 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 v^^as 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 ^vas made. His conduct 
 had been so exemplary as to secure 
 the confidence of the minister, and all 
 the members of the church in his 
 steadfastness, but that of one of the 
 deacons. He alone objected. When 
 Mr. T. was told he must wait one month 
 longer, he was deeply grieved. " But," 
 said he, " 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 New- 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 admissicTn into its 
 pale. As the day of admission drew 
 191 
 
64 
 
 CHURCH, JOININO 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 
 hei 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? 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 a desperately 
 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 
 192 
 
 never should return — that fearful con- 
 I sequences might be anticipated. He 
 I was soon out of sight, but not out of 
 i mind. The family departed ; and the 
 I father, finding his threats unavailing, 
 I returned to his house, prepared his per- 
 j son with despatch, and was soon seen 
 i placed in the gallery in a situation 
 ! favorable for witnessing the ceremony 
 I he had opposed so vainly. And when 
 j the ceremony of reception took place, 
 I and the father looked down and saw 
 I 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. 
 
 (c) THE AGED BLACKSMITH'S 
 TESTIMONY.— In the year 184-, 
 Mr. W., of R. I., related the following: 
 " Thirty-four years ago I thouijit 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. I told 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 than I expected to be, and found, 
 when ready to go, that it was too late. 
 The next meeting for the purpose I was 
 again hindered by yielding to worldly 
 business ; and by the third meeting I 
 had little inclination to go, and doubted 
 whether I was a Christian. Since then 
 you have heard me profane the name 
 
CHURCH, JOIN IMG THE. 
 
 §A 
 
 of God, and seen me neglect the house 
 of his worship. But there has never 
 been a single night that 1 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 
 feding which I had on iliat afternoon^ 
 has never returned. If I walk, I must 
 go in the dark. And now 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. shoH never 
 
 preach in my house." " May he not 
 preach in the yard then?" said she. 
 " No, there is no room for him in the 
 yard." " Well, I supp:>se you will let 
 us have the barn ?" " 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. 
 Whatever 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 
 13 
 
 for God and his word, to which she had 
 once been a stranger, and to which he 
 was still a stranger himself J [is 
 mind sunk in deep and deeper distress. 
 One day she went up into her chamber, 
 perhaps to pour out her soul in secn>t 
 before God, when her husband was so 
 overcome by the force of his conviction*>. 
 that he followed her, and desired her to 
 pray for him. They went to prayer ; 
 and as they rose up, and looked out 
 of the window, they 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- 
 cei^'e the ordinance together. She con- 
 oMded to do so; and two or three 
 weeks after, they w6re both baptized 
 by the itinerant, on the same day, and 
 received into the fellowship of the 
 church. 
 
 (e) THE OPPOSING HUSBAND. 
 — When 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 Mr. M., were 
 present ; 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 very 
 much offended with him, both for bap- 
 tizing his wife, and also because Mr. 
 193 
 
84 
 
 CHURCH, JOINING THE. 
 
 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. I knew 
 not that you had an)^ objections to your 
 wife's joining our church ; but if I 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 !' 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 acanditate 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 the 
 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 w^hom were 
 present ; and, if the church so desired, 
 he would baptize any such persons be- 
 fore they left the water. One afler 
 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, 
 siif^ 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. / 
 want you to understand that I am to he 
 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. COMMENTARIES. 
 
 (a) 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 library V " These," 
 said he, " are the interpreters of the 
 Scriptures." " There is a prodigious 
 number of them," replied I ; " the Scrip- 
 tures must have been very dark formerly, 
 and be very clear at present. Do there 
 remain still any doubts ? Are there now 
 any points contested ?" " 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 V " 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. 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c) CHILDREN PRESENT.— The 
 
 195 
 
86,87 
 
 COMPANY, EVIL. 
 
 Rev. John Brown, in a narrative of his 
 experience, remarks, " 1 reflect on it as 
 a great mercy, that I was born in a 
 family which took care of my Christian 
 instruction, and in which 1 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 affections, and has since 
 made me tliink that children should 
 never be kept out of church on such 
 occasions." 
 
 (d) THE COMMUNION 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 office ; 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 vieAv, 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." 
 What a lesson is this for those who live 
 near, and make any trifling 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 or' Jordan, and of the Hermon- 
 ites from the hill Mizar. In short, 1 
 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, wbo had been educated in 
 the Stockport Sunday school, England, 
 conducted himself so well, and made 
 such 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 
 196 
 
 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 army. 
 
COMPAY, EVIL. 
 
 87 
 
 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 ot 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. 
 
 (b) REMORSE AND SUICIDE.— 
 In the year 1832, died in Essex, En- 
 ijland, 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 f:)und 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 memoir of his life, 
 
 written by himself, says, '• That year, 
 (1616,) having, upon an evening, been 
 engaged in company with some irre- 
 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 1 was 
 young, instead of being a Judge of the 
 King's Bench, [ 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 officer 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 
 officer 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 officer, " 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 — " While 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 njore 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 LoRD IS GOOD," 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 manner 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. 
 
 (c) 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 I at- 
 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 ? How much can such 
 a religion be worth ? Can there be 
 any thing divine and substantial in it ? 
 This would be the course of my reflec- 
 tions ; such lifeless services not only 
 destroyed my interest in attending such 
 meetings, but shook my confidence in 
 professors of religion, and in religion 
 itself! 
 
 198 
 
CONFESSION— CONFESSION OF SIN. 
 
 §9,90 
 
 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 wiio 
 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." 
 
 (b) WASHINGTON'S CONFES- 
 SION. — Washington, 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 for re- 
 
 venge, started for the r.ity ; but Wash- 
 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 raeet him, and .said with 
 a smile, " Mr. Payne, 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 v\s be 
 friends." Such an act few could resist ; 
 and Payne became from that moment 
 through life, an enthusJAstic friend And 
 admirer of Washington. 
 
 (c) LORD MANSFIELD'S MAXIM. 
 — This eminent judge was never asham- 
 ed of publicly retracting any wrong 
 opinion he had entertained, when once 
 convinced of his mistake. He us^ 
 frequently to say, probably after Dean 
 Swift, who has a similar passage in hi^ 
 writings, " That to acknowledge yon 
 were wrong yesterday, was but to lei 
 the world know that you are wiser to 
 day than you were then." 
 
 CONFESSION OF SIN. 
 
 HAPPY EFFECTS OF CONFESSION. 
 90. Procures 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 
 
 been accustomed td 
 use of intoxicating 
 
 member of a church in R town 
 
 ship, N. Y., had, according to the prac 
 tice of the times 
 indulge in the 
 
 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 declension, he came to the 
 church and made an apparently most 
 sincere and heart-broken confession, 
 199 
 
91,92 
 
 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 trouble 
 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. Will you forgive me ?" 
 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. 
 WESLEY.— 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 
 ihem now, Joseph." B. " I wish to 
 hear you preach, sir ; and there will be 
 sufficient time for the post afler ser- 
 vice." W. " I insist upon your going 
 now, Joseph." B. "I will not go at 
 present." W. "You won't!" B. "No, 
 sir." W. " Then you and I must 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 ?" B. " Yes, 
 sir." W. " And must we part ?" B. 
 " Please yourself, sir." W. " Will you 
 ask my pardon, Joseph?" B. "No, 
 sir." W. "You won't?" B. "No, 
 sir." W. " Then I will ask yours, 
 Joseph." 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 of the head. 
 
 200 
 
 91. Snbdues 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 load 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 withdrew, 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 which I 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 I had 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 
 hitij^erto been a stranger. It is high 
 time to examine it more thoroughly, 
 
flEALS DIVISIONS AND PROMOTES REVIVALS. 
 
 92,98 
 
 with more candor, and with greater so- 
 licitude also, than 1 have done hitherto." 
 From this incident a train of thoughts 
 [ind 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 
 of himself to the ministry of the gospel." 
 (b) THE QUARRELSOME 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 becam.e 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 
 kim in. He went in, took his seat, 
 acknowledged that he had in the affair 
 been much to blame, and entreated 
 forgiveness. The other was nmch 
 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 v/ould for- 
 give him ; and added, " We 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 !" 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 Revivals. 
 
 (a) DEACON P. AND SQUIRE' 
 
 M. — The following anecdote, says a 
 correspondent of the Baptist R.epository, 
 occurred under the immediate observa- 
 tion of the writer : 
 
 A new settlement at the v/est, 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 
 h^d 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. j 
 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 eflbrts. 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 
 
94 
 
 CONFESSION 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 aleo 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 difficulty 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 
 202 
 
 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 betbre him and ask his 
 forgiveness." No 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 experiencea 
 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 mors 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?" 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 
 
CONSCIENCE, POWER OF, WITH THE GUILTY. 
 
 93,94 
 
 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.— Difficulty 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. VV. 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. W. 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 meltincr 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 
 
 91. In groundless Suspicions and Alarms. 
 
 (a) DRAWING A BOW 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 : 
 "For we must all appear before the 
 
 judgment seat of Christ ; that every 
 one may receive the things done in his 
 body, according to that he hath done, 
 whether it be good or bad." 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- 
 j ing who have been engaged in some 
 1 dark, dishonest transaction, which they 
 203 
 
94 
 
 CONSCIENCE, POWER OF, WITH THE GUILTY. 
 
 suppose is altogether unknown, and 
 will remain for ever concealed. Vain 
 supposition ! Let them know that, even 
 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- 
 treated me to wait upon you, and to in- 
 tercede with you not to send the officers 
 to 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- 
 mon was an arrow from the bow dr^wn 
 at a venture, but it was guided by a 
 hand 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 
 officers to trouble her. He also request- 
 ed him to endeavor to find out the real 
 cause 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 M'ithout 
 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 
 204 
 
 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 convinced that 
 
 she had acted wrong ; but, as confes- 
 sion alone is insufficient without repara- 
 tion, the next step was to fmd 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. 
 
 {b) "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 his 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 be say beans ?" 
 " I think he did," was the reply ; and 
 quickly thev were missing. 
 
 (c) A NIGHT WITH A DUEL- 
 LIST. — A duel was fought near the 
 city of Washington, under circum- 
 stances of peculiar atrocity. A dis- 
 tinguished individual challenged his re- 
 lative who was once his friend. The 
 challenged party having the choice 
 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 
 
IN CONFESSION AND REPARATION OF INJURIES. 
 
 94,95 
 
 gentleman 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 fevor 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 ? 
 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 
 THIEF.— 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 
 
 cause. The man answered tliat 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 
 hand, and raising it with a threatening 
 attitude, said " A man in this neighbor- 
 hood had an axe stolen last night, and 
 if the person who stole it doesn't dodge, 
 / ivill hit him on the forehead with this 
 stone," at the same time making a violent 
 effort to throw it, when h 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, tvas 
 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 W., 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 sharne 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 thefl, 
 mounted his horse and rode off; but had 
 not gone far before he was strongly in- 
 205 
 
95,96 
 
 CONSCIENCE, POWER 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 a theft. 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. 
 
 (*) 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 Iier. 
 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. 
 206 
 
 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 fruit, 
 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 fol- 
 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 
 
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 
 into 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 be 
 himself) in great suspense. Meanwhile 
 he appeared to be in unusual disorder 
 and agitation of nlind ; 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." We 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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, but, 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
OT, 9§ 
 
 CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 
 
 substantiated by the accounts received 
 from Marietta ; 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 quarterly 
 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- 
 kerchief, 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. 
 
 (^») THE LUNATIC DUELLIST. 
 — " Some years since,'' says Dr. 
 Beecher, "1 visited the Philadelphia 
 
 Asylum. In returning 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 hf3 
 stood like a pillar. Sometimes he would 
 wake lap to recollection ; he would pace 
 off the distance, and give the word 
 ' Fire !' Then cry out, ' He is dead ! — 
 he is dead !' This was the power of 
 conscience. It had unsettled reason." 
 
 (c) DYING FROM REMORSE.— 
 "Jn 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 !' * You must pray 
 for yourself,' I replied. ' Pray — I can- 
 not pray ! I am going straight to per- 
 dition !' Pie lived three days almost 
 without food, and then died — so far as 
 we know — without any disease.'^ It was 
 the power of conscience. 
 
 (d) 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 !' — 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 oi. 
 
 (a) ROBBING ONE OR ROB- 
 BING 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 
 vhat, my child ?" said the mother. He 
 208 
 
 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 Caesar 
 the things that are Caesar's V " 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 
 
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 
 
 9§ 
 
 rob one or to rob many ?" By these 
 questions and answers, the boy silenced 
 both his parents on the subject of smug- 
 gling. 
 
 (b) 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 
 with 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," 
 
 (c) 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 one night 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. 
 He admired the strength of his moral 
 
 14 
 
 feelings, and accordingly took him into 
 his own employment the next week. 
 
 (d) THE PUBLISHER CON- 
 VERTED.— T 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 : — " Tbe 
 great adversary of souls seemed to have 
 much power over me. I thought, if I 
 give up the song business, I might as 
 well give up all, for I 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 1 
 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 sufficient 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, ' What 
 shaH it profit a man, if he shall gain 
 the whole world, and lose his own soul ? 
 or what can a man give in exchange for 
 his soul V 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 morning 
 I went 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 
 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 those trials, and still 
 to look to him for comfort and support, 
 so that in a short time all those angry 
 feelings wore oft'; 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 : — 
 
 Two Christian chiefs, Tati 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 Taheiti.) 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 ?" " 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 
 210 
 
 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, M'hy 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 sleep ; 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 ejf 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 
 
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS— CONSECRATION TO GOD. 9§, 99, 100 
 
 congenial to his own mind ; adding, | 
 that he might depend on his friendship ^ 
 in any line of life into which he should | 
 enter. 
 
 (h) THE QUAKER'S ADVER- 
 TISEMENT.— The following account 
 of a Quaker at Falmouth, 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 affliction 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. 
 
 %, Conscientiousness, Want of. 
 
 (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 
 possibly be given. 
 
 (h) A NICK IN THE CONSCIENCE. 
 — When 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 the 
 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 ; cannot 
 you make a little nick in yours ?" 
 
 (c) 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 ; I thought 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 salarj'-. 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?" " Why," said the merchant, "I 
 should say it was ridiculous." " Well," 
 says the minister, " God employs you 
 211 
 
100, 101 
 
 CONSISTENCY, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 to sell goods as his clerk, and your 
 minister he employs to teach his chil- 
 dren, and requires you to pay his salary 
 out of the income of the store. Now 
 do you call this your sacrifice, and say 
 that you are making a great sacrifice, to 
 pay this minister's salary 1 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." 
 
 (&) 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, lo be returned to her when- 
 
 ever she should want it. When he re- 
 linquished his charge, he transferred 
 the deposit to his successor, Mr. Hart- 
 vig. The latter perceiving that the 
 poor woman was evidently in want 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 helovg to ihe church and me mo- 
 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, " When I gave 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 
 THE BIBLE." — The son of Selina, 
 the Countess of Huntingdon, 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 
 preaching place close to my residence." 
 212 
 
 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." 
 
 (h) 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 
 
CONSISTENCY, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 101 
 
 chosen. One day at court, the then 
 Prince of Wales asked Lady Cliarlotte 
 E — , " Where is my Lady Huntingdon, 
 that she is so seldom here ?" The lady 
 of fashion replied, with a sneer, " I 
 suppose praying with her beggars." 
 The prince shook his head, and said, 
 " Lady Charlotte, when 1 am dying, I 
 think I shall be happy to seize the skirt 
 of Lady Huntingdon's mantle, to carry 
 me up with her to heaven." 
 
 (c) 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 O'Ur 
 largest cities, who generously contri- 
 buted to 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 could you hear that man 
 pi'ay, you would think 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 purse opened. 
 
 (e) THE WAY TO PRESERVE 
 CHURCHES.— 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 liim 
 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 07ily, 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." 
 
 (/) 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 iTianage his mill him- 
 self, and having no regard for the Sab- 
 batii, he was as busy and his mill as 
 noisy on that holy morning as any 
 otlier. 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 
 
103, 103 
 
 CONSIDERATION— CONTENTMENT. 
 
 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 inquired of, why he paid this 
 marked respect to Deacon B , 
 
 the infidel replied, "The Deacon pro 
 fesses just what the rest of you do 
 but he lives also such a life, that il 
 makes me feel bad /iere" (putting his 
 hand upon his heart) " to run my mill 
 while he is passing." ^ 
 
 102. CONSIDERATION. • 
 
 (a) SPENDING HALF AN HOUR 
 ALONE. — A pious 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 liVihappy 
 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 v/ould retire to his cham- 
 ber half an hour every day for some 
 months after his decease. He prescrib- 
 ed no particular subject to employ his 
 thoughts, but left that to himself. 
 
 A request so simple and easy, urged 
 by 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, wiien 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 CURL 
 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 
 triumph. 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 
 214 
 
 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 
 of it, than to possess it myself." Full 
 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. 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 103 
 
 (h) 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 
 I'iches, 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. 
 
 (c) 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, " Well 
 boy, what do you do ? what do they pay 
 you ?" '- 1 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 difiiculties, without repining or 
 betraying the least impatience. One 
 of his intimate 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 ; 1 then look down upon the earth, 
 and call to mind how small a place I 
 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 ; and what little 
 reason I have to repine or to complain. 
 
 (e) TWO SORTS OF BLESS- 
 INGS. — " 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 possess." 
 
 ( 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 al 
 no great distance, accosted the shep- 
 herd with asking what sort of weather 
 he thought it would be on the morrow. 
 " 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." " You are 
 exposed to great cold and heat," said 
 215 
 
1«4 
 
 CONTROVERSY. 
 
 the gentleman. " True, sir,'* said the 
 shepherd ; " but then 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 ?" 
 
 " 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 6s. dd. 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) Stonehouso 
 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 part, 1 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 : so I have 
 just as much of this world as I desire. 
 But 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 ?" 
 
 (b) 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 !" 
 
 (c) 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 
 
 216 
 
 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- 
 gious controversies." 
 
 (d) 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 remarks, 
 
CONTROVERSY. 
 
 104 
 
 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 nibblino-s : — " Were the 
 affair mine, I would taks 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." 
 
 (/) 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 afflicted, 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 
 
 introduceji 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 those 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. 
 
 {g) WAY TO DISCERN WHO 
 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 ?" replied 
 his friend. " Why, by seeing who is 
 angry first." 
 
 (A) 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) WOULD DAVID OR PAUL 
 HAVE TALKED THUS ?— It is said 
 of the Rev. John Jane way, 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 stuff; 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 talk thus if 
 we believed that we should hear of this 
 again at the day of judgment ? Would 
 Enoch, David, or Paul have talked 
 thus ? 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 ?" 
 
 (h) 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- 
 218 
 
 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 ? Our place of meeting, 
 on that day, is the house of God ; and 
 our feast, the rich provisions of the ever- 
 lasting gospel. 
 
 (c) COMMUNION WITH 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, 
 he is 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 
 I some refreshment. His conversation 
 I was exceedingly savory, and truly 
 I profitable, suited to one who had been, 
 
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. 1 w^ould not, for any thing, have 
 it expunged from our creed." 
 
 {d) MR. HERVEY AND DR. 
 DODDRIDGE.— Mr. Hervey, in a 
 letter, says — " I have lately seen that 
 most excellent minister of the ever- 
 blessed Jesus, Mr . I dined, supped. 
 
 and spent the evening with 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 IMPENITENT. 
 
 106. AVay for IIiMble Cliristians 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, " Why will 
 
 ye die ?" 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 
 negligent 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 
 the 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 praying, 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, afler 
 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 ! I wish 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 1 
 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. I must 
 go over to the shoemaker and tell him ; 
 he will believe me." 
 219 
 
107 
 
 CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT. 
 
 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 
 ijjOty people brought to the knowledge 
 of Jesus, and experienced his power 
 and grace. 
 
 -J ■ ',* 
 107. IMluenee; of Earnestness and Ten- 
 
 : / derness. 
 
 •^/ 
 (a) YOtTNG BUCHANAN AND 
 JHE 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 I was aware, 
 a most powerful impression was made 
 upon my mind, and I conceived the 
 instant resolution of reforming my life. 
 On that evening I had an engagement 
 which I could not now approve ; not- 
 withstanding what had passed, I, how- 
 ever, resolved to go ; but as 1 went 
 along, and had time to reflect upon 
 what I had heard, I half wished that it 
 might not be kept. It turned out as I 
 220 
 
 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. 
 
 (b) " 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 ? That is of infinitely greater 
 consequence than hov/ 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 lo 
 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- 
 
INFLUENCE OF EARNESTNESS AND TENDERNESS. 
 
 107 
 
 lion." " 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 ?" "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- 
 ceptible feelings. He grieved inwardly 
 at the hardness and impenitency of heart 
 manifested by his neighbor. At length, 
 having, on one occasion, spoken to 
 
 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, ond betrayed itself, rolling down 
 the cheeks 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, V^ 
 by diligently plying witlu his flail the «^ 
 corn which lay spread out'on'<the thrash- >'' * 
 ing floor. I 
 
 That tear, by the overruling power of C 
 God, did more than all the sermons he 
 heard from the preacher under the eb 
 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. — "What," thought he, "shall 
 John B shed tears on my account, 
 
 and yet I have never shed one tear 
 about my soul's concern ?" 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 UNANSWERABLE 
 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 scoffing 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 ?" 
 
 " 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. 
 
 proaches, 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 etfoit, 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 — 
 his 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. 
 222 
 
 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 rUUg 
 
 through my ears like a thunder clap in 
 a clear sky. ' Greatly concerned ought 
 / to be for my own salvation,' said I ; 
 ' What shall I do to be saved V 
 
 " I went into my house. My poor 
 pious wife, whom 1 had so often ridi- 
 culed for her religion, exclained, ' Why 
 Mr. R , what is the matter with 
 
 you 
 
 ' 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. What shall I do V She 
 advised me to go and see him. No 
 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. 
 
 (/) THE GAY LADY AND HER 
 PIOUS FRIENDS.— A gay, thought- 
 less young lady, who had not unfre- 
 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." 
 
ADVANTAGE OF SKILL AND PRUDENCE. 
 
 iO§, 109 
 
 108. Advantage of Skill and Prudence. 
 
 (a) MEETING THE IMPENI- 
 TENT ALONE.— Several young la- 
 dies, of a proud, gay aiid 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. 
 
 (b) TWENTY-ONE YOUNG 
 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 
 223 
 
 was going on, so as not to alarm them, 
 till every one of these young men were 
 converted to God. Now ifshe 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, 
 t who had settled in Halifax, on business 
 
109 
 
 CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT. 
 
 which required her to go to that town. 
 While there, her liabitual 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. 
 
 We 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- 
 trusion, 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 
 224 
 
 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 fonner 
 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 ! 
 
 (b) " DID YOU EVER DRINK AT 
 THAT GREAT FOUNTAIN ?"— A 
 friend of mine. Deacon E., in 1839, 
 was on a visit to Saratoga Springs. One 
 morning, taking a draught at Congress 
 Spring, a lady came to take her usual 
 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 ; but 
 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 smiled, and 
 said, " Don't you know me ?" " No," 
 said he. " Don't you remember asking 
 a woman at Congress Spring, ' Have you 
 ever drank at that Great Fountain ?'" 
 " 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 ! Be as faithful 
 to others as you have been to me. 
 Never be afraid to talk to strangers on 
 the subject of religion." 
 
HAPPY RESULTS, UNEXPECTEDLY DEVELOPED. 
 
 109 
 
 (c) FAREWELL 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 ofpaltry and 
 fleeting indulgences? Farewell." 
 
 Each now disappeared from the other, 
 in the crowd of life ; and pursued a very 
 different 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 — ?" 
 
 " You are right. Do you remember 
 what you said at our separation at the 
 corner of S — street, thirty years ago ?" 
 
 " 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 CHILD.— The Rev. Mr. Rea- 
 der, of Taunton (Eng.), having called, 
 15 
 
 one day, in the course of his pastoral 
 visits, at the house of a friend, affec- 
 tionately noticed a little girl in the 
 room, about six years of age. Among 
 other things, he asked her 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 blessed to her con- 
 version ! Taking her Bible, she had re- 
 tired, as he advised, pleaded the promise, 
 wept, and prayed ; and the Lord, in an- 
 swer to her fervent petitions, gave her 
 what she so earnestly desired, a nevj 
 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 tlie side of the slave ! 
 
 As the slave seemed willing, he com- 
 menced a minute and personal conversa- 
 tion with him on religion. Punch began 
 to feel, tears ran dov/n his sable cheeks, 
 and he seemed alarmed at his danger, and 
 listened with intentness to the counsels 
 of the singular stranger. Afler 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. 
 While 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 the way 
 225 
 
110 
 
 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- 
 fest not to be discovered by liis 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. 
 
 no. Various Interesting Conversions. 
 
 (a) THE MINISTER'S DIREC- 
 TION. -A Christian minister some years 
 ago, on returning from preaching in a 
 neighboring village, was asked by an 
 226 
 
 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 le- 
 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 ? was an inquiry often 
 presented to his mind, and which at 
 length led to the salvation of his sodi. 
 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 dying 
 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 ? 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 ?" " 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. 
 
 {I) 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 
 
THE DUTY 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 V 
 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 WORD 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 instrument 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 office 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 fit 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, " What 
 must I do to be saved !" She soon 
 obtained ease to her troubled conscience, 
 and an assurance that her sins were 
 
 pardoned. And about eight weeks 
 after this, she died, happy in the conso- 
 lations of religion. 
 
 {d) THE CLERGYMAN CON- 
 VERTED.— The excellent Joseph Wil- 
 Hams, of Kidderminster, relates, in his 
 I diary, that in the year 1754, he was 
 I unexpectedly induced to take a journey ; 
 i and, while out on his way, to ride to 
 ; Bradford, in Wiltshire, on a stormy 
 ; night. On a Monday, he called on a 
 j clergyman, the vicar of the town, and 
 j just as the party, to whom he was thus 
 I introduced, was breaking up, a young 
 : clergyman, the curate of the parish, 
 I came in. A pious friend, who accom- 
 panied Mr. Williams, requested him to 
 j speak to the curate : and with some re- 
 luctance he advanced towards him with 
 i the important inquiry, " Sir, how does 
 I your soul prosper ?" He seemed dis- 
 j 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 excusfes 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 ! 
 
 (b) 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 ; 1 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 
 discover the real state of his mind, and 
 to make a vigorous effort lo 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 ^ rapidly, 
 that I was obliged to put him immediate- 
 ly to bed, and as he seemed inclined to 
 doze, I was gla 1 to leave him to rest. 
 From that time he was never sufficiently 
 sensible for conversation ; and now he 
 is gone into eternity, and has 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 
 228 
 
 Christian parent, and enjoying the de- 
 lightful assurance of meeting my child 
 before the ihrone of God and the Lamb. 
 Oh, the cursed sin of procrastination ! 
 Oh, the ruinous delusion that lurks in 
 the word to-morrow /" 
 
 (c) DR. CHALMERS 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. 
 When 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 ^e\v 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, " did I 
 see, or did I 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 Iwelt on that subject 
 
COURAGE, MORAL. 
 
 Ill, 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." 
 
 {d) 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 
 affliction, 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 ?" 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 
 condemnation. Since that time I have 
 been unable to procure any consolation. 
 
 and I fear I shall be lost for ever." 
 Her tears for 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 blessedness of witnessing 
 her triumphant departure, in full as- 
 surance of hope, in the fifteenth year 
 of her aa;e. 
 
 (e) 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 BISHOP'S REPLY.— 
 Philip, Bishop of Heraclea, 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 replied, " My present be- 
 havior is not the effect of rashness, but 
 229 
 
112 
 
 COURAGE, MORAL. 
 
 proceeds from my love and fear of God, 
 who made the world, and who will 
 judge the living and the dead, whose 
 commands I dare not transgress. I have 
 hitherto done my duty to the empferors, 
 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. 
 
 (b) CHRYSOSTOM IN EXILE.— 
 " When driven from the city, I cared 
 nothing 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 
 ^p'efrain 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 act fire to the pile, 
 " Come here," said the martyr, " and 
 kindle it before my eyes; for, if I 
 dreaded 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- 
 cling flames. 
 
 230 
 
 (d) LUTHER'S FORTITUDE.— 
 
 Vergerio, the Papal nuncio, came to 
 Wirtemberg 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 nuncio ; 
 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 whera 
 he would have it held. " Where you 
 please," he replied, "at Mantua, at 
 Padua, at Florence, or any where else." 
 Vergerio asked, " Are you willing it 
 should be at Bologna ?" 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 
 pope's visiting Wirtemberg. " 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 
 
COURAGE, MORAL. 
 
 112 
 
 of remark. On taking leave, Vergerio 
 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 ? " Under 
 the shield of Heaven !" was his reply. 
 The silenced minion turned round, and 
 went his way. 
 
 (e) LUTHER SUMiMONED TO 
 WORMS. — When Luther was sum- 
 moned to attend the diet at Worms, 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 thither. Luther replied, " I am 
 determined tq 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. When 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 x3onsiderably im- 
 paired by the labor of producing his 
 numerous compositions, and the excite- 
 ments inseparable from the restless hos- 
 tilities of his enemies. Being supposed 
 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. While 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. 
 WicklifT 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 ; 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 hia 
 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 H^ooper 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 yoti." 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 mv soul, away with it." 
 
 (h) LATIMER GOING TO LON- 
 DON — In the beginning of the reign 
 231 
 
112 
 
 COURAGE, 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 liis 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." 
 
 (0 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 pifhishment 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 
 232 
 
 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." Well, 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 hac 
 been dismissed from the Sardinian ser- 
 vice for very bad conduct. He hac 
 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, 3^oung 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 brother." "Afraid 
 
COURAGE, MORAL. 
 
 113 
 
 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 ? 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 
 pale, and trembled with fear and rage. 
 He still threatened his uncle with in- 
 stant death. Fletcher, though thus 
 threatened, gave no alarm, 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 youug 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. 
 
 {k) 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 v/hen I hear 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 
 too magnanimous to resent this reproof, 
 but he 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 
 »eproof from his humble friend. 
 
 (I) HARRIS AND THE SOL- 
 DIERS. — Dr. Harris, the minister of 
 Han well, (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 would 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) WESLEY AND THE PAPA- 
 CY. — Mr. Samuel Wesley, the father of 
 the celebrated Mr. John Wesley, 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 
 
112 
 
 COURAGE, MORAL, 
 
 in the country. I v/ill go on, and do 
 you touch me if you dare." They 
 heard him, and shrunk away. 
 
 (o) EXCOMMUNICATING 
 \ 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. 
 
 (p) HINTON AND THE UNWOR- 
 THY COMMUNICANT.— 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 ; s'Abject, 
 indeed, to paroxysms of rage, on ac- 
 count of which, every one was afraid to 
 interfere with him. The measure was, 
 however, adopted by the church ; but 
 when (according to their usual mode) 
 234 
 
 messengers were to be appointed to 
 communicate the result, the deacor 
 would not go ; nor would any one g. 
 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. 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, I shall 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- 
 proached 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, in 
 which he strongly reproached him for 
 his detestable actions, and plainly signi- 
 fied his intention to bring him to public 
 
COURTESY. 
 
 113 
 
 justice, should he not 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 indictment 
 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, — 
 " VVould you have your king exceeded 
 in politeness by one of the lowest of his 
 subjects?" 
 
 (b) 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." 
 
 (c) 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 states represented 
 at his court waited on him with their 
 congratulations. When 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." 
 
 (d) DR. FURNAM AND THE 
 NEGRESS.— Dr. Furnam was once 
 present in a small company of brethren 
 who had assembled to dine with a com- 
 mon friend, 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- 
 I 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?" 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 XlVth, 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. I did 
 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 rjian.^' 
 
 if) THE OFFICER'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- 
 ters. 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 
 his 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 travel through a foreign 
 country, then of the highest 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 otight 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 ?" 
 
 (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 <^ains." 
 
 (0 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." 
 
 114. CREDULITY. 
 
 {a) FAITH OF THE COLLIER.— 
 
 Implicit faith has been sometimes styled 
 Jides 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 
 the church believe?" 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 hoth believe." The 
 only answer the collier could gi\e was, 
 " Why, truly, sir, the church and I loib 
 — believe the same thing." 
 
CRUELTY EXEMPLIFIED. 
 
 115 
 
 CRUELTY. 
 
 11§. Cruelty Exemplified. 
 
 (a) CRUELTY OF COMMODUS. 
 
 — Nothing can be more contrary to 
 nature, to reason, to religion, than 
 cruelty. Hence an mhuman 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 NA'o 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 
 corpulent man pass by, he immediately 
 cut l]im asunder, partly to try his 
 strength, in which he excelled all men, 
 and partly out of curiosity, as he him- 
 self owned, to see his entrails drop out 
 at once. He took pleasure in cutting 
 off the feet ar^d 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) THE TUTOR'S PREDICTION 
 RESPECTING TIBERIUS. — Theo- 
 dorus Gaddarseus, 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 vet." 
 
 (c) 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 ^een up a long time, the rope was 
 worn out, and a piece of wild vine was 
 made use of to lengthen it. Now there 
 was a knight of Atri who had a noble 
 charger, which had become unservicea- 
 ble through age, so that, to avoid the ex- 
 pense of feeding him, he turned 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 assembled to^ 
 237 
 
116 
 
 CRUELTY. 
 
 consider the petition of the horse, which 
 appeared to demand justice. They de- 
 creed that the knight lohom he had served 
 in his youth should feed him in his old 
 age ; a sentence which the king con- 
 firmed under a heavy penahy. 
 
 116. Cruelty Punished. 
 
 (a) 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 horn to the tail of a dog, 
 turned the affrighted 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 ! 
 
 (J) 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 affliction. 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 
 238 
 
 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.— Tamer, 
 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 ?'* 
 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 XL- 
 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 
 sceptre of France. Stronger colors 
 could not be employed than those in 
 which he describes his loathsome dun- 
 geons, his iron cages, and chain nets. 
 
CRUELTY AND BENEVOLENCE COMBINED. 
 
 116, 117 
 
 Claude de Seyssel, another historian, 
 says, " That about the places where he 
 was, were seen great numbers of peo- 
 ple hanging on trees ; and 1^e 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-13AITING.— 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 cut from his body, besides 
 others who were severely bruised. 
 
 117. CRUELTY AND BENEVOLENCE COMBINED. 
 
 {a) TRAJAN'S INCONSISTEN- 
 CIES.— Who has not heard of the 
 Emperor Trajan, of his moderation, his 
 clemency, his gushing sympathies, his 
 forgiveness of injuries and forgetful n ess 
 
 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 affectionately regarded by his 
 239 
 
iiy 
 
 CRUELTY AND BENEVOLENCE 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. 
 
 {h) CHARACTER OF THEODO- 
 SIUS. — 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. 
 
 , (c) 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 
 can hardly show a more gentle and 
 240 
 
 I lovely character than Pliny. While 
 ! pleading at the bar, he always sought 
 I out the grievances of the poorest and 
 I most despieed persons, entered into their 
 I wrongs with his whole soul, and never 
 took a fee. Who can read his admira- 
 ble letters without being touched by 
 their tenderness and warmed by their 
 benignity and philanthropy ? And yet, 
 this tender-hearted Pliny coolly plied 
 with excruciating torture two spotle^ss fe- 
 males, who had served as deaconesses 
 in the Christian church, hoping to ex- 
 tort from them matter of accusation 
 against the Christians. Pie 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. 
 
 {d) 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 iho 
 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. 
 
 (e) TITUS IN ROME— TITUS IN 
 JUDEA. — Who 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 
 
READINESS FOR DEATH. 
 
 11§ 
 
 office of high priest that his hands 
 might never be defiled 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 Kennet, 
 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 stt^le out 
 of the city by night to glean food in the' 
 valleys : these he would first dreadful!}' 
 scourge, then torment them with ail 
 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 them 
 back. Afler the destruction 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. 
 
 118. Readinesi for Death. 
 
 (a) THE MINER B 7RIED ALIVE. 
 
 — Charles Greenhough, a native of a 
 populous hamlet in the West Riding of 
 Yorkshire, a humble and piou5 man, was 
 engaged in the perilous occapation 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 effort 
 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 
 16 
 
 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 ^ew remaining minutes were spent 
 in earnest prayer for his family, and in 
 solemnly commending his departing 
 spirit to the Lord Jesus. The earth 
 then fell, and buried him alive ! 
 
 (h) MR. WESLEY AND THE 
 GERMANS.— In the early part of the 
 career of the Rev. John Wesley, 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. While 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- 
 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 V He re- 
 plied mildly, " No : our women and 
 children are not afraid to die." 
 
 (c) SENTIMENT OF AN AGED 
 CHIEF. — A distinguiished 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." 
 
 {d) 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 fbilr 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 
 dying, 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 !" 
 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 !" and expired with 
 the unfinished word on his lips. 
 
 242 
 
 (e) SEVERAL EXAMPLES.— 
 John Dodd — '•' I am not afraid to look 
 death in the face. I can say — Death, 
 where is thy sting ? Death cannot hurt 
 me." 
 
 Robert Bolton — " O ! when will this 
 good hour come ? When shall I be dis- 
 solved ? When shall I be with Christ ?" 
 Halylurton — " 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 1 
 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 Darracott — " Well, I am go- 
 ing from weeping friends to congratulate 
 angek and rejoicing saints in heaven 
 and glory. Blessed be God, all is well." 
 (/) THE PIOUS BOATSWAIN 
 IN THE STORM.— On board an 
 East-Indian\an was a pious boatswain, 
 whom, on this account, the crew looked 
 upon as a strar^e man. The ship was 
 overtaken with a storm so dreadful, that 
 after eveiy effort to preserve life, the 
 captain said, ' All ihat could be done 
 had been done — it wus impossible the 
 vessel could weather it.' The ship 
 seemed sinking — the captain withdrew 
 into the cabin — the men were some on 
 their knees, and others with liorror 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 he 
 began to sing. The storm afterwards 
 abated, and the vessel was saved. Thus, 
 amidst the storm of life, on the dark 
 ocean of death, and amidst the terrors 
 
HAPPY DEATHS OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 lis, 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 leligion, 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 ! Why 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- 
 eous.' " 
 
 {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, if I die I shall be 
 with God ; if I live. He will be with 
 me." 
 
 {i) 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 Windsor 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. Wyatt, 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, 1 
 am willing to stay : but if it pleases God 
 to take me this night, I am ready to go !" 
 (j) 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 Cliristians. 
 
 {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 exhort 
 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 ?" " I 
 have wild beasts," said the proconsul, 
 " and will expose you to them unless 
 you repent." "Call them," said the 
 martyr. " I wiil 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." 
 
 (h) DEATH OF REV. JOHN 
 WESLEY.— The Rev. John Wesley, 
 after a long life of great labor and use- 
 fulness, being sixty-five years in the 
 ministry, concluded his course, as might 
 243 
 
119 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 have been expected, in peace and holy 
 joy. 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." 
 
 (c) DEATH-BED OF REV. W. 
 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. 
 When I look at man — when I look 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 what I 
 most valued. But, O my God, my Re- 
 deemer, thou hast never failed me !" 
 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. 
 
 (d) "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 ?" 
 244 
 
 " I am doing with it, " said he, " w;hat I 
 did forty years ago ; I am resting on 
 that word, I am the Lord thy God; and 
 on this I mean to die." To another, ho 
 said, " The covenant is my charter, and 
 if it had not been for that blessed word, 
 / 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 ?" 
 "It is one of your sermons, sir." 
 " What one is it ?" " 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 
 thum.b 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 ! happy tlic man whose 
 God is the Lord ! 
 
 (e) "I SHALL SUP WITH 
 CHRIST."— 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 anothei 
 egg." But halving mused a while, he 
 said, ^' Hold, daugJifer, 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 God 
 which is in Christ Jesus my Lord.' " 
 When this was done he said, " Now is 
 my finger upon them ?" Being told that it 
 was, he added, " Now, God he with yoUy 
 my dear children : I have breakfasted with 
 you, and shall sup luith my Lord Jesus 
 Chnst this night ;" and then expired. 
 
 (/) 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 ; 
 
HAPPY DEATHS OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 119 
 
 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 afilictions 
 are but for a moment, and then comes 
 an eternal weight of glory. Oh, wel- 
 come, welcome death ! thou mayest 
 well be reckoned among the treasures 
 of the Christian ! To live is Christ, but 
 to die is gain." 
 
 {g) DEATH OF DR. GOODWIN. 
 — " Ah !" said Dr. Goodwin, in his last 
 moments, " is this dying 1 How have 
 I dreaded as an enemy this smiling 
 friend !" 
 
 (/i) DEATH OF REV. WILLIAM 
 JANEWAY.— This good man, who 
 was the father of the Rev. John Jane- 
 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, 
 ho 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 token 
 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 at last, 
 having recovered himself, with un- 
 speakable joy he burst out into such 
 expressions as these : — " son, now it 
 is come, it is come, it is come ! I bless 
 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 full, it is brimful ; I can hold 
 no more. I know now what 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, so 
 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 greater, 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. 
 
 (z) 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 lan£:uao:e like this : " None 
 can know, none conceive the happiness 
 I possess, the peace with which my soul 
 is fiUed, but the sincere disciple of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ. Redeemer of man- 
 kind, give me strength to bear even ^ 
 joy — this joy !" 
 
 0) HAPPY SURPRISE OF 
 DEATH.— The Rev.Mr. Hall, of Arns- 
 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. Woodman'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. Whert 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 ! 
 (k) 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. " Well, doctor," said Mr. Le- 
 gare, " what do you think of the scene 
 in the next room ?" " 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 }k)W to 
 account for it." "Do you not, sir?" 
 asked Mr. Legare ; " go, then, to Cal- 
 246 
 
 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 doctor 
 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 o 
 philosopher, and I hope he will bear the 
 stroke like one." "Philosophy!" re- 
 plied the doctor, " I have thought as 
 much of philosophy as any man, but 
 the scene within beats philosophy hoi- 
 low." ^ ^ 
 
 (l) DEATH OF MRS. HERVEY. 
 — Mrs. Elizabeth Hervcy, the wife of a 
 Missionary 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 gloiy !" 
 
 (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 ; 
 
HAPPY DEATHS OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 ilf> 
 
 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 ?" Fie was arous- 
 ed from his lethargy, and with tears of 
 pleasure sparkling in his eyes, he ex- 
 claimed, " O no, no ! What ! 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?" 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 
 ail his subjects to come and take refuge 
 under the wing of Jesus, and I was one 
 of the first to do so. The hlood of Jesus 
 is my foundation. I grieve 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 I asked him if he were afraid 
 to die ; when, with almost youthful en- 
 ergy, he replied, " No, no ! The canoe 
 is on the sea, the sails are spread ; she 
 is ready for the gale. I have a good 
 Pilot to guide me, and 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 ! " 
 
 {71) 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 hit 
 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 God to trust 
 to ! " This extraordinary mau 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 ! " 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. Hia 
 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 Newlyn, 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 Trevarrow, 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 tMS untimely 
 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 that 
 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 1 feel I am going to heaven." 
 Here his voice failed him ; he never 
 .spake again. 
 
 {q) THIS IS HEAVEN BEGUN. 
 — The 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. 1 have done 
 with darkness for ever — for ever. Sa- 
 tan is vanquished. Nothing now re- 
 mains but salvation with eternal glory 
 — eternal glory . ' ' 
 
 . (r) DEATH OF MR. JENKS.— 
 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, calledJ^r 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 
 book to Mr. Leigh, and bade him read : 
 248 
 
 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 ?" 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 visited my heart. O 
 speak it when I am gone, and preach it 
 at my funeral ; God dealeth familiarly 
 with man. I feel his mercy ; 1 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. 
 
 (0 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, apd 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 ?" And tlierefore, 
 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 penitent 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 
 assurance, I feel that inward joy which 
 this world can neither give nor take 
 from me. My conscience beareth me 
 
UNREADINESS FOR DEATH. 
 
 119, 120 
 
 this witness, and this witness makes the 
 thought of death joyful. I could wish 
 to live to do the Churclt 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." 
 
 (u) DYING WORDS OF DR. PAY- 
 SON. — Dr. Pay son, 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 ! 1 am 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." 
 
 120. Unreadiness for Death. 
 {a) 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 
 began to weep. They said to him. 
 
 "Rabbi, the light of Israel, the right 
 hand pillar, wherefore dost thou weep ?" 
 Fie answered, " If they were carrying 
 me before a king of flesh and blood, 
 who is here to-day 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 will 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 ?" 
 
 {h) 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." 
 
 (c)l WON'T DIE NOW.— 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." 
 Fie left her. Next evening the mistress 
 of the house where she was, said, 
 " Ma'am, I think you look a good deal 
 worse." "Worse ! I am much better, 
 249 
 
120 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 Why do you talk to me about death ?" 
 " 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 will live." Getting worse and worse, 
 she said, " I feel I must die," and in an 
 agony screamed out, " Lord ! what 
 must I do ?" 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 very ill. She was sitting in 
 her room. He asked her how she felt. 
 " D5dng, 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 ?" " 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 ! 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 over- 
 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 ?" 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 
 
 250 
 
 ministry, and became a godly man ever 
 after. 
 
 (f)^ WHO ARE THE COV, 
 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 had all my boats washed 
 away, a little to the westward of Cape 
 Clear. I then had an opportunity of 
 seeing who was who ; and 1 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 Gourageous." 
 
 (g) THE DYING MERCHANT 
 AND HIS PHYSICIAN.— In 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 ?" said 
 the alarmed sufferer. " Shall I never 
 recover ?" " You are quite sick," said 
 the physician, " and should prepare for 
 the worst." " Cannot I live a week ?" 
 asked the merchant. " No," said the 
 doctor, " you will probably continue 
 but a little while, 
 the dying man ; 
 
 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 !" And the man 
 died within an hour. 
 
 (h) 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. 
 
 (i) 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 accounts to-night, but 
 must do it early in the morning. On 
 Sabbath therefore they were occupied 
 
 "Say not so," said 
 t will give you a 
 
MISERABLE DEATHS OF THE IMPENITENT. 
 
 120, 131 
 
 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 of the death of Mr. ?" "No," 
 
 said he, " is he dead ? 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, " Where- 
 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 
 be bribed ? 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 Impenitent; 
 
 {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 ! With how much more con- 
 fidence should I have gone to the throne 
 of God ! What doth all my glory profit, 
 but that I have so much the more tor- 
 ment in my death !" 
 
 (b) REFUSING TO DIE.— A 
 gentleman in London, when on his 
 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 affrighted 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 SORROWS. 
 — " 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. Wo is 
 me ! when God called, 1 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) WOLSEY'S REGRETS.— 
 Cardinal Wolsey, 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 NOW. 
 — 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. During his 
 sickness, he was miserable, as he had 
 
 251 
 
121 
 
 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 promises 
 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 
 dyhig and agonizing exclamation of a 
 young man, who a short time before 
 had been 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. Ho 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 
 his 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 roohi, 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 I die ?' he exclaimed. ' Is 
 there no hope? Oh! I cannot die, I 
 cannot die !' 
 
 " I endeavored to direct him to the 
 252 
 
 cross, and reminded him of the crucified 
 tliief. 
 
 " ' Alas !' he replied, ' he never sinned 
 against such light as I have abused. 
 What shall I do ? Pray for me, O pray 
 for me.' 
 
 " We 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 sms 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 soon arrived ; 
 but the scene which followed I will not 
 and cannot describe. The groans of 
 the poor sufferer ceased only witli his 
 life. He seemed stunned with the sud- 
 den and terrible summons, and unable 
 to command his thoughts sufficiently to 
 pray." 
 
 (g) DEATH OF CARDINAL 
 MA'ZARIN.— What a terrific picture 
 does the following passage (from Lard- 
 ner's Cyclopa3dia, History of France,) 
 exhibit of the death-bed of a man devoted 
 to the pomp and vanities of the world, 
 and who is at ease in liis 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 dressiiig-gown totter- 
 ing along hiis gallery, pointing to his pic- 
 tures, and exclaiming, " Must I quit all 
 these ?" He saw Brienne, and seized 
 him : " Lcok at that Ccrreggio ! this Ve- 
 nus of Titian ! that incomparable Deluge 
 of Caracci ! Ah ! my friend, 1 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 j and they were only interrupted 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 122 
 
 by the papal nuncio, who came to give 
 the cardinal that plenary indulgence 
 to which the prelates of the Sacred Col- 
 lege are officially entitled. Mazarin 
 expired on the 9th of March, 1661. 
 
 m. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) DEATH IN THE PULPIT.— 
 
 The following striking fact is taken 
 from the Edinburgh Advertiser, Dec. 7, 
 1810. "Died at Waterford, 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 ;' 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 : 
 
 " 1 preach as if I ne'er should preach again, 
 And as a dying man, to dying men." 
 
 (h) A REMARKABLE COINCl- 
 DENCE.— The Rev. John 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 
 
 " His body with his charge laid down, 
 And ceased at once to work and live." 
 
 (c) 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, " O 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 ^^^ich 
 covereth my body." 
 
 (d) 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. On the Mon- 
 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. 
 
 (e) DR. DWIGHT'S MOTHER.— 
 Dr. Dwight's mother lived to be more 
 than a hundred years of age. When 
 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, ' When will 
 the bell toll for me ? 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- 
 253 
 
132, 123 
 
 DEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES. 
 
 passed, and was sued ; judgments ob- 
 tained, 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 dies I can buy the lot." 
 B. was 58 years old, A. 60 ! Reader, 
 do you ev€r expect to die ? 
 
 ig) RULING PASSION STRONG 
 IN DEATH.— When the king of Prus- 
 sia became sensible of the near ap- 
 proach of dissolution, he desired to see 
 his 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 the last 
 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 
 place. At dinner, the Dr. said, " Mr. 
 W., 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 
 
 bear for God." "You would be dis- 
 appointed, Doctor," said W., " I shall die 
 silent. It has 'pleased God to enable 
 me to bear 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. 
 
 {i) REMARK OF JOHN NEW, 
 TON. — Rev. John Newton one day 
 mentioned at his table the death of 
 a lady. A young woman who sat op- 
 posite immediately said, " O sir, how 
 did she die ?" The venerable man 
 replied, 'i 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 ?" 
 " How did she live ?" was Mr. New- 
 ton's answer. 
 
 (j) "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 ! He is come !" He 
 appeared to go up to heaven in a cha- 
 riot of fire, with little or no apparent 
 sensibility of his cruel death. 
 
 123. "bEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES. 
 
 [a) A CHURCH CONSULTING 
 THEIR CONSCIENCES.— 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- 
 254 
 
 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 ? Brother So-and-so, can 
 you in conscience saiy that you have ?" 
 
DEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES. 
 
 123 
 
 " 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 
 difficult," 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 ho. " Well, 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 inexpressible animation 
 
 and delight to his noble adviser, that his 
 church was paid for, an organ purchased, 
 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 ! 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, tol4 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 caught 
 his spirit — they determined to solicit no 
 further — increased their subscriptions, 
 and paid their debts themselves. 
 
 255 
 
121—126 
 
 DECREES, DIVINE— DELAY OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 124. DECREES, 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, William," 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. 
 
 1S5. Causes Regret after Conversiou. 
 
 (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 ? " Fifty 
 years," was the old man's reply. Well, 
 have you ever regretted that you began 
 so young to devote yourself to religion ? 
 " 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 anything, 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 dregs of old age." 
 256 
 
 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 life — which I 
 devoted to sin and the world." 
 
 11. Hardens the Heart. 
 
 (a) THE CONSUMPTIVE'S TES- 
 TIMONY. — 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 
 beneyolent 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?" "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 
 
GRIEVES AWAY THE HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 126, 127 
 
 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 wondei'ed 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 w^s 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. I tried to bring to 
 Jiis 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. T saw the utter hopelessness of 
 eflbrt, 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. 
 
 (h) MY HEART IS HARD.— An 
 old man, one day taking a child on his 
 knee, entreated him to seek God noio — 
 to pray to him — and to love him ; when 
 the child, looking up at him, asked, 
 " But why do not you seek God ?" The 
 old man, deeply affected, answered, " I 
 would, child ; but my heart is hard — 
 my heart is hard.'^ 
 17 
 
 (c) 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 ; ihf- 
 preacher urging as a motive, thai, 
 should they live to be old, difficulties 
 would multiply, and their reluctance to 
 attend the subject would increase with 
 their years. As the preacher descend- 
 ed from the pulpit at the close of the 
 service, an aged man came forward, and 
 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. 'l am not a 
 Christian. 1 feel no readiness nor dis- 
 position to enter upon the work of my 
 salvation. In looking back, I often- 
 times feel as though I would give worlds 
 if I could be placed where I was when 
 I was twenty years old. There were 
 not half as many difficulties 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. 
 
 W. 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 ! 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 
 even ridiculed. She met with no little 
 persecution from her fellow servants: 
 this induced her to neglect private pray- 
 er and other means of grace. At length 
 257 
 
is-y 
 
 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 in 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.' When 
 I spoke 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 ! but now I am undone.' 
 I again 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 1 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 I had obeyed the 
 gospel ! but now I must burn in hell for 
 ever. Oh I cannot bear it ! I cannot 
 bear it !' 
 
 " In this manner she continued breath- 
 ing out most horrible expressions. 
 
 " 1 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- 
 258 
 
 rniiy i 
 W.— f 
 
 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 : — " When 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. ' Yes,' I 
 said, ' I will do so ; I will wait till mid- 
 dle age.' I did so ; my serious impres- 
 sions left me for some years. They 
 were again renewed : conscience re- 
 minded me of my promises ; the Spirit 
 said, ' Seek religion now ; ' but then 1 
 had less time than ever. Satan advised 
 my waiting till I was old ; then my 
 children would be settled in business, 
 and 1 should have nothing else to do ; l 
 could then give an undivided attention 
 to it. I listened to his suggestion, and 
 the Spirit ceased to strive with me. I 
 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 iW-l 
 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. 
 
 (c) THE FATAL RESOLU- 
 TION. — Lydia Sturtevant, was the 
 daughter of pious parents in one of the 
 She possessed a 
 
 New England States. 
 
GRIEVES AWAY THE HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 137 
 
 cultivated mind, buoyancy of spirits, and 
 beauty of person — the ornament of her 
 circle, the admiration of all who knew 
 h'Br. 
 
 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 offer of salvation hefore 
 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 renev/ed, 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 ??iore 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 intelligence 
 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 
 liorror at her situation. She saw her- 
 self on the brink of eternity — a hardened 
 smner — her Saviour slighted — the Spirit 
 grievea and gone ! 
 
 What could she do ? The blood was 
 
 beginning to stagnate, the lungs to 
 falter ! Feeble 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 pardon 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 afl'ecting 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 ear- 
 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?" 
 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 ? 
 
 He replied, "I will tell you, and 
 disclose what I never uttered to any 
 human being : When I was twenty-one 
 1 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 said in 
 259 
 
128 
 
 DELAY OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 my heart one day, I mil put this subject 
 off until I am married and settled in 
 life, and then I will attend to my souVs 
 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 itv my sins ; and 
 now I see my awful situation. I am 
 lost. • Now 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. 
 
 128. Accompanied by Sudden Death. 
 
 (a) BOAST NOT OF TO-MOR- 
 ROW.— The Rev. G. Whitfield men- 
 tions in his journal, that during his first 
 voyage to Georgia, the ship's cook 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 drinkino;, in six hours. 
 
 (b) PHILIP HENRY'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, bv getting 
 
 260 
 
 an interest in Christ, while you are 
 in health. If I had that work to do 
 now, what would become of me ? 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." 
 
 (c) 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 thi'eescore 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 ! 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 charactei', 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 mi^ht not live so lon<T 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- 
 
ACCOMPANIED BY SUDDEN DEATH. 
 
 13$ 
 
 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 time, 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 slie 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 
 iier any hope. 
 
 (e) TOO SOON— TOO LATE.— 
 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 V 
 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- 
 ing one eveniniT in the town of , a 
 
 I 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 backwa'rds 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 1 tell you, 
 that that young man was my own bro- 
 ther." 
 
 (^) FATAL RESOLVE.— A friend 
 was once pressing, on a young lady of 
 fifteen, the importance of thinking of re- 
 261 
 
138 
 
 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 " notv 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 peace." 
 
 {h) DEATH IN THE BALL 
 ROOM. — A young merchant, in one of 
 the large cities of America, was seized 
 with a dangerous illness, v/hich brought 
 him, apparently, to the very confines of 
 the eternal world. In this situation his 
 past neglect of ihe Savior rushed with 
 power on his conscience, and in the 
 most solemn manner he vowed to lead 
 a new life, if ho recovered. Unexpect- 
 edly, both to himself and every one else, 
 he gradually attained his former health. 
 During the progress of his recovery, he 
 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 affebt- 
 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 flishionable 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 ! 
 
 (0 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 
 262 
 
 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 cu1> off suddenly, 
 and entered into an eternal world. 
 Reader, ^^ to-day'' hear the voice of God, 
 and harden not thine heart. 
 
 0) THE PRESUMPTUOUS HEIR. 
 — Rev. Mr. Baker, a Free-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." "Well, 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 
 fi^rm 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. 
 
 (k) FIVE MINUTES TO CRY 
 FOR MERCY.— In the early part of 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 120 
 
 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 IViends, 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 
 doubt 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 ; come this mi- 
 nute, sir: she is dying, she is dying !" 
 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. 
 
 129. 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 good 
 boat, and then I will believe." 
 
 {b) 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 nowhore 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 oome in next 
 season." 
 
 (c) ADVICE REJECTED.— When 
 a young man made an open profes- 
 sion of the gospel, his father, great- 
 ly ofTended, 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.' " 
 
 (d) WORK 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-morrow ; thus, every day will be 
 employed in returning." 
 
 (e) A YOUNG MAN 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 wliile he may be found,' 
 trouble my mind very much, as they 
 show me that there is a time when he 
 may not be found." 
 
 263 
 
130, 131 
 
 DENIAL OF CHRIST— DEPENDENCE ON GOD. 
 
 130. DENIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 (a) THE MARTYR'S PRAYER 
 ANSWERED.— David Straiton, one 
 of the Scottish martyrs, was brought to 
 the knowledge of the truth, through 
 the instriimentality 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 happened, 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. For 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. 
 
 (b) THE SUBSCRIPTION RE- 
 CANTED.— " Bishop Jewel," says Ful- 
 ler, " being by the violence of popish in- 
 quisitors, assaulted on a sudden to suh- 
 scrihe, he took a pen in his hand, and 
 said, smiling, ' Have you a mind to see 
 how well I can write V and thereupon 
 underwrit their opinions." Jewel, how- 
 ever, by his cowardly compliance, made 
 his foes no fewer without,. and one the 
 more, a guilty conscience, within him. 
 His life being way-laid for, with great 
 difficulty 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, afier having preached a most ten- 
 der, penitential sermon. " It was,'' 
 said he, " m.y 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. 
 
 (a) 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 oflen to the last degree in iear ; 
 the prospect of the many strong tempta- 
 tions and allurements, to which my 
 youthful years would unavoidably ex- 
 pose me, 'greatly discouraged me. I 
 oflen used to tell an aged soldier of 
 264 
 
 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 1 
 feared, and was humbly dependent upm) 
 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." 
 
 (h) HAPPY INFLUENCE OF 
 DANGERS.— At a meeting held in 
 reference to the establishment of schools 
 
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 ?" 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. 
 
 (c) THE BEST REFUGE.— " A 
 few years ago," says one, " wlien an in- 
 vasion of England by the French was 
 
 much talked of, tlie 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 her, 
 ' My refuge would be in my God.' 
 I felt reproved ; I could not but think 
 hers was the best refuge." 
 
 {d) GOD UNACKNOWLEDGED. 
 — It has been wisely observed, that we 
 require the same hand to protect us in 
 apparent safety, as in the most immi- 
 nent danger. One of the most wicked 
 men in the neighborhood of a pious 
 
 whom this account was 
 a precipice, 
 
 mmister, from 
 derived, was riding near 
 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 I seemed 
 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 is no safety for an hour except 
 in God's keeping ; and often when we 
 imagine 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 NEWTON.— 
 
 The Rev. John Newton sometimes said, 
 
 he had received more damage at his 
 
 I own door, than in all the countries he 
 
 I had been in abroad, for he had twice fal- 
 
 265 
 
131, 133 
 
 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. 
 
 ig) THE SHIP'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 
 
 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 may be the 
 Lord's. 
 
 132. DEPRAVITY. 
 
 {a) 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 difficult 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 
 promise not to be offended'?" "Ask 
 your questions, and welcome." " Have 
 you never met with an opportunity of 
 getting gain by unfair means ?" The 
 gentleman paused. " I don't ask, Have 
 you taken advantage of such an op- 
 portunity ? 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 ? 
 Tell me without any evasion, and con- 
 sistently with the character you ad- 
 mire." " I must acknowledge, I have 
 266 
 
 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 requireth 
 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." 
 
 {h) A GOD TOO SHARPSIGHT- 
 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." 
 
 (c) 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'ii Fourfold 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 
 
DEPRAVITY. 
 
 132 
 
 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 that I 
 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 and guilty 
 creature, such as he was, might be for 
 ever saved. 
 
 {d) HATING GOODNESS.— "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, ' No, 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 V " 
 
 (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 Br. Ives .'" — If 
 an explanation was asked, he took oc- 
 casion to expound the innate corruption 
 of the human heart ; and appealed to 
 the exrperience of his auditors, " whether 
 they had not felt the movements of 
 those very passions, errors, prejudices, 
 lusts, revenge, covetousness, &c., 
 whose direct tendency was to produce 
 
 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 flite, 
 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 from 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." 
 
 {h) THE LAW 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." 
 
 {i) BREAKING THE COMMAND 
 MENTS. — A poor negro, a few years 
 ago, thus addressed the late Rev. Mr. 
 Johnson, at Regent's Town, on the 
 western coast of Africa : — ? 
 
 267 
 
132 
 
 DEPRAVITY. 
 
 Yesterday morning, when you preach, 
 you show me that the law be our 
 sehoohnaster 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 slialt 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 1 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. I talk 
 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. I think 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 lie no save me, I shall go to 
 hell for ever. 
 
 (j) A KEEN REPLY.— John Wes- 
 ley, in a considerable party, had been 
 maintaining, with great earnestness, 
 the doctrine of Vox PopiiU vox 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 I' " A more admir- 
 able ansM^er was perhaps never given. 
 
 (k) A STRANGE THING.— 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- 
 dians get drunk so much more than the 
 268 
 
 white people." " Do you think strange 
 of that?" said the old chief; " why, it 
 is not strange at all. The Indians thhik 
 it no harm to get drunk whenever they 
 can ; but you white men say it is a sin, 
 and yet get drunk nevertheless I'"* 
 
 (l) 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 
 apostro'phe : " 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 tiie 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 ? No ; slie 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 her 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. ? With emphasis, she repaed, 
 
DESPAIR, UNFOUNDED, 
 
 13a 
 
 " My sins, sir." With a view to test 
 the reality and depth of her convictions, 
 I then said, "But what have you done 
 which makes either your heart or your 
 life appear so heinously sinful ?" 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 God, 
 
 AND I KNOW IT. I HATE CHRISTIANS, 
 AND I KNOW 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- 
 
 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 cj^ught 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 was all 
 in all to her. 
 
 133. DESPAIR, UNFOUNDED. 
 
 (a) THE DESPAIRING WOMAN 
 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 ofthe 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 forme?" 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 madf^ 
 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- 
 land. 
 
 {h) THE CHRISTIAN IN HELL. 
 — James Rose was resident at Floor, in 
 Northamptonshire, (England,) and was 
 
 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 wont to 
 269 
 
133 
 
 DESPAIR. UNFOUNDED. 
 
 entertain a very high opinion of his per- I 
 sonal piety, and could not account for j 
 this strange dispensation. However, | 
 the day on which he died, a minister j 
 who was on a journey, called at Mr. | 
 Potto's, not with any view of stopping ; 1 
 but Mr. Petto desired him to alight, for | 
 he had a circumstance to relate to him, | 
 which was the case of this poor dis- I 
 tressed friend, and expressed a wish that 
 he would go and see him, in liopes 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 ? " O sir," said he, " never 
 worse, never worse ! I am in a lost state ! 
 just dying, and have no hope ! I am as 
 sure that I shall go to hell, as I am of 
 being a man !" 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. Now 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 begin to 
 talk on the same subjects. Now, this 
 will never be borne ; your company 
 will soon be hateful to the inhabitants 
 270 
 
 of hell, and the devil v/ill soon turn you 
 out again." 
 
 This peculiar thought was the nieans, 
 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 !" and departed in a 
 few minutes after. Those words had 
 a remarkable accomplishment in him : 
 *' Mark the perfect man, and behold the 
 upright ; for the end of that man is 
 peace." 
 
 (c) 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 !" 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, 
 ifiquired 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 I 
 set before him. His words being ac- * 
 companied by Divine power, the poor 
 soldier was enabled to believe in Christ, 
 
 J 
 
DIFFICULTIES IN CHURCHES. 
 
 134 
 
 and thus found peace and comfort to his i his discharge. He settled in Perth, be- 
 troubled soul. He soon afterwards re- j came a member of the church, attached 
 covered, 'and became a very exemplary himself steadily to Mr. Wilson, and was 
 Christian ; and, as he felt the army un- through life a comfort to him, and an 
 favorable to a religious life, Mr. W. at ornament to the Christian profession. 
 his request used influence, and procured 
 
 134. DIFFICULTIES IN CHURCHES. 
 
 (a) FULLER AND 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 opening of those faculties which after- 
 wards were so conspicuous and useful. 
 In these difficulties, application was 
 made to Dr. Ryland, then of Northamp- 
 ton, Rev. Robert Hall, senior, of Arnsby, 
 and Rev. Jno. 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, ho 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 difficulties, 
 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 our pastor, 
 and to wish him removed. It occurred 
 to me while Mr. Hall was preaching, 
 is there no misunderstanding among 
 us '? There may be, and that may be 
 the cause of our difficulty. 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 
 difficulties 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 
 
 (h) 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 he built high and strong, and 
 you will take special care of the old black 
 bull. 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 most 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 Master'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. 
 
 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. Kilpin's church at 
 Exeter, came with details of real or sup- 
 posed injuries, received from a fellov/- 
 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 self 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. 
 
 135. 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- 
 diflference, 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 
 272 
 
 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. Electro 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 ^ 
 
DISCIPLINING CHILDREN. 
 
 13S 
 
 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 
 look, 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 aa- 
 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, " p^t 
 this apple where it was on tlie carpet ;" 
 she obeyed. Again, said he, " Take it 
 up and carry it to your mother." She 
 obeyed with alacrity and tear^. " Come 
 here, my daughter." Sh3 came. To 
 the questions, ''Are you sorry ?" and 
 others liie it, she asi?ented ; constantly 
 opening her arms and raising her lips 
 for the caresses c( her father. 
 
 Her mother then began her confession, 
 asked pardon for the improper strength 
 of her feeh'ngs, and acknowledged that 
 her love for the child was spurious in 
 comparison with that of her husband. 
 The others united in the acknowledg- 
 ment. 
 
 {h) 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- 
 ing to replenish her nf^edle, called upon 
 M — for the ball. For some reason 
 best known to her little self she refused 
 to give it up. The request for the ball 
 18 
 
 was several times repeats:' but without 
 obtaining it. The father sitting by, 
 reading, interfered and added his re- 
 quest that she would give up the ball, 
 but without effect. He then told her 
 decidedly — "Carry the ball to grand- 
 ma." But instead of obeying she fixed 
 herself in a position of resistaiice ; and 
 with eyes directed to the floor, and hi r 
 hand grasping the ball more firmly, she 
 stood unmoved. The command was 
 repeated ; but the only answer A^as a 
 shrug of the shoulders, a twite ;i of the 
 muscles, and a gb'^ce of the eye, in- 
 timating decidedly "I wont." The 
 command was repeated again, and, to 
 his surprise, the same answer was 
 given. He arose from his seat, and 
 approaching her, repeated the com- 
 mand ; but instead of obedience she 
 threw the ball spitefully across the 
 room. He took her by the hand, led 
 her \o the ball, told her to take it up 
 an(? 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 iieck 
 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 quickly 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- 
 273 
 
136, 137 
 
 DISCIPLINE, FAMILY. 
 
 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 obedient of his 
 children, though naturally the most de- 
 cided and self-willed of either of them. 
 
 136. Discipline accompanied with Prayer. 
 
 (a) EFFECTUAL CHASTISE- 
 MENT. — 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 spair^th the rod, 
 hateth his son ; but he that "i^veth him, 
 chasteneth him betimes." • ''Chasten 
 thy son while there is yet hope, bxid let 
 not thy soul spare for his crying." "The 
 rod and reproof, give wisdom, but % 
 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 ?" " 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. 
 
 (b) 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." 
 
 274 
 
 (c) APPLYING THE WRONG 
 REMEDY. — A gentleman's son, says 
 the Berlin Evangelical Journal, was 
 brought to Mr. Flattich, an aged clergy, 
 man, of Wirtemburg, 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- 
 SMres he had resorted to, without any 
 good effect. He had in vain sought 
 mild methods to bring him to reason ; 
 he had, ^r example, let him go into the 
 company of well-behavf^d children ; but 
 the boy wouVl escape as soon as possi- 
 ble into the society of boys in the street, 
 or else would exhibit rude behavior 
 before the orderly c\\ildren. 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. 
 
 117. Religious Tendency of Discipline, 
 
 (a) THE LAD'S PRAYER— A 
 
 gentleman's son, in England, of ten or 
 
 I eleven years of age, one day told an un- 
 
RELIGIOUS TENDENCY OF DISCIPLINE. 
 
 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 afflictive 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 
 acknowledo-e his ffuilt 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 siccfi 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. 
 
 (h) 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 iri pea(?eful 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. 
 
 (c) THE INDULGED CHILD.— 
 A mother, says Rev. R. J. Smith, relat- 
 ed to me the following instance, illus- 
 trating the relation between submission 
 to parental authority, and conversion or 
 submission to the will of ^od. 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 system. It 
 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 atler this 
 occurrence, the mother said she was 
 awakened at midnight, with the cry — 
 " Ma, pray for me, for I am a grea 
 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 
 
13S, 139 
 
 DISCIPLINE, FAMILY. 
 
 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, I thank 
 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 feej that you have forgiven 
 me, and God has forgiven me ; and I 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. j 
 
 If parents do not obtain and keep the 
 mastery of the will, they place an 
 almost insurmountable 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. 
 While 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. 
 
 1^8. Discipline Witliheld. 
 
 (a) THE RUINED SON.— An only 
 son 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 
 Prov. 29 : 15. Reports of his impro- 
 per conduct reached the ears, and 
 pierced the hearts of his fond parents, 
 and called forth repeated expostulations. 
 
 I was 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- 
 sel of an affectionate father, a kind, but 
 heart-broken mother. The son read 
 the letter 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 his feet, and with a look of 
 276 
 
 ineffable contempt, he dashed the letter 
 into the fire, exclaiming, " There, now, 
 let 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 V 
 While 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- 
 ing 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. 
 
 119. Miscellaneous. 
 
 {a) HE NEVER SPEAKS KIND TO 
 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. 1 was perfectly 
 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 ? Will fathers examine their 
 habits on this point 1 
 
 (b) "MY MOTHER NEVER 
 TELLS LIES."— Some females, says 
 the St. Louis Obser/er, met at the house 
 of a friend, in this city, for an evenmg 
 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." 
 
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 suffering 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. Sodq 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." 
 
 (d) THE COUNT AND HIS 
 FAMILY. — The following account is 
 given by Milner, in his " Church 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 difference 
 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. When cases of dis- 
 cipline were brought before me and the 
 277 
 
140, 141 
 
 DISHONESTY PUNISHED. 
 
 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 
 i\e 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. T 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- 
 
 pline, by which we open or shut the 
 way to the sealing ordinances of the 
 faith. Both are Christ's gift, and neither 
 is to be resigned without sin." 
 
 (b) EMPLOYMENT FOR A 
 CHURCH. — A minister of the gospel, 
 in excusing himself and his church for 
 not exerting themselves to instruct and 
 gather in 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 ! Only one 
 in three possessing the true spirit of 
 Christianity, and he is prevented from 
 being an efficient 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- 
 278 
 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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 30,000/. 
 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 500/., 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 perceiving the 
 
DISHONESTY PUNISHED. 
 
 141 
 
 legacy of 500Z. 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 of 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 200/. 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 difficulty 
 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 Wednesday fore- 
 noon ! His neighbors who attended him, 
 say, that a short time before he died, he 
 declared, that the agony consequent on 
 the loss of his character as an honest 
 man, which he had for so 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 
 
143 
 
 DISINTERESTEDNESS— DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 
 
 tain prepared for the occasion, and to 
 project their heads through two open- 
 ings, when, after hearing their several 
 arguments, he would cut off 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 officer stood in front with a drawn 
 cimeter in his hand, and the judge pro- 
 ceeded to the examination. After a 
 
 short debate, the judge cried out, 
 " Enough, enough, strike off the vil- 
 Iain's head !" and the officer, who 
 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 BISFIOP. 
 — 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." 
 
 (b) CALVIN'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 appointed labors 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 
 280 
 
 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 happv as a good home. 
 (b) REASON FOR DISOBEY- 
 ING. — The American Sunday School 
 
DISTILLERS. 
 
 143, 144 
 
 Herald, states, that a little girl, six 
 years old, in a Sunday school, 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, " { cannot keep that 
 commandment." " Why cannot you 
 keep it, my dear ?" " 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 mo- 
 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 ? No, 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 a 
 very signal providence. 
 
 (d) THE DISOBEDIENT PUN- 
 ISHED.— 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 
 children 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-house ?" 
 *' 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 heen per- 
 sonally addressed by any Christian on 
 the subject of his souVs salvation, imme- 
 diately fell down upon his knees and 
 cried to Gxl 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 ardeni 
 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 busuiess which 
 281 
 
145 
 
 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 
 
 heaT-en."' "Yes," said the pastor, 
 " and that," pointing to the distillery, 
 " 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 ?" " Yes," said 
 she, "but I have been tempted this 
 week. Something seemed to say I was 
 not a Christian, and it made me very 
 unhappy." 
 
 "What did you do then ?" 
 
 " I prayed that I 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 ! When the servant 
 returned, he said to his master, " Mr. 
 L. could not come, but he desired me 
 to tell you, to rememher Torwood .'" 
 This answer immediately struck Mr. 
 K., and he cried out, " Yes, Lord ! I 
 
 282 
 
 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." 
 
 {d) JOHNSON'S VISIT TO 
 WETHERELL.— The late Rev. Ro- 
 bert Johnson says, " In Bishop Wilton 
 
DRESS. 
 
 146 
 
 lived a good man, named Thomas We- 
 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 
 iny 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, 
 ' 0, dear sir, 1 fear I shall never get 
 there. I have lost my way ! I have 
 lost my way ! Oh, what a stumbling- 
 block am I now, after enjoying confi- 
 dence for forty years !' I answered, 
 ' 1 am very sorry that you have turned 
 out so badly. I imagine my visit will 
 not be acceptable. J suppose you have 
 It; come very wicked, and fond of tri- 
 ' '_:, vain, worldly company.' He im- 
 liately rejoined, ' Oh, no, no ! I can- 
 not bear them. I cannot bear them.' 
 I said, ' I am glad of that ; and you 
 m;:y be sure of this, that the Lord will 
 not send you to hell among them here- 
 al'tcr, when you so much dislike their 
 vrays and company now.' 
 
 " He was particularly struck with 
 tiie manner and language in which I ad- 
 dressed him. 'Come,' said I, ' let me 
 have the history of your complaint.' 
 lie proceeded, and said, ' Some time 
 a 140, I had a paralytic stroke. I was 
 wry 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- 
 dustry I 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 
 
 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 troubled. 
 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 to 
 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 ?' ' 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.' 
 
 " We 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 WEEP- 
 ING. — 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. 
 
 (b) 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) WAY 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 
 mercei's, milliners, and jewellers, for 
 his wife's finery." 
 
 (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 some 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 ni 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 
 
 284 
 
 was at an humble distance, and rather 
 to avoid singularity, than to encourage 
 extravagance ; that as long as people 
 were in the liabit of wearing clothes, 
 they must have some fashion or other, 
 and a fashion that answered the ends of 
 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 tlieir 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, wafe the same 
 sin, as to set our hearts Kpon them, and 
 as his fixshion 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 wa^ 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 ajyparel, with shame- 
 facedness and sobriety ; not with broider- 
 ed hair, or gold, or jjearls, or costly ar- 
 ray, but (lahich becometh women profess- 
 ing godliness) with good works ; whose 
 adorning let it not be that outward adorn- 
 ing ofplaiiing the liair, and the wearing 
 of gold, or 0/ PUTTING ON OF AP. 
 PAREL ; but let it be the hidden man 
 of the heart, in tJiat 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 Jlowers. If you have in your 
 hearts the ridiculous vanity to wish to be 
 thought pretty, you may as well hang 
 
GUILT AND FOLLY OF DUELING. 
 
 146— 14§ 
 
 out the SIGN, and let every one know 
 what is the ruling passion of your 
 heart." 
 
 (gj SWIFT AND THE 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 ?" "I thought 
 it was my duty sir," replied George, 
 
 " to wait on you immediately on my 
 arrival from London." " Pray, sir, who 
 are you ?" " George Faulkner the 
 printer, sir." " You George Faulkner 
 the printer ! why you are the most im- 
 pudent barefaced scoundrel of an im- 
 postor I have ever met with ! George 
 Faulkner is a plain sober citizen, and 
 would never trick himself out in lace 
 and other fopperies. Get you gone, you 
 rascal, I will immediately send you to 
 the house of correction." Away went 
 George as fast as he could, and having 
 changed his dress he returned to the 
 Deanery, where he was received with 
 the greatest cordiality. " My friend 
 George," says the Dean, " I am glad 
 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 
 off for you, but I soon sent him away 
 with a flea in his ear.'' 
 
 DUELING. 
 
 147. Gailt of Dueling. 
 
 {a) ANNIVERSARY OF A 
 DUEL. — It 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. 
 
 (h) GARDINER'S REPLY TO 
 A Off ALLENGE.— 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- 
 DATION.— Cobbett, when challenged 
 Tjo fight, recommended the challenger 
 
 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 eflect what- 
 ever, he maintained, on the original 
 causes of the quarrel. 
 
 {h) OCCASIONS OF DUELS.— 
 Colonel Montgomery was shot in a duel 
 about a dog ; Captain kamsay 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 oflicer 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 o-lass 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 lost 
 285 
 
149 
 
 DUELING. 
 
 his life in a duel, because he was re- 
 fused admittance to a club of pigeon 
 shooters ! What 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 ? 
 
 149. Dueling Avoided. 
 
 (fl) ANSWERING A CHAL- 
 LENGE MATHEMATICALLY.— 
 
 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 hors 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 ?" " 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 I expe«t 
 the matter would end." 
 
 (b) THE DUELIST OUTWITTED. 
 — The Rev. J. Cooke, of Maidenhead, 
 many years ago, published a very in- 
 teresting pamphlet, containg 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 
 286 
 
 the word of God.' My character, my 
 principles, my office, 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. 
 
 {c) MR. SCOTT'S SWORD.— 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 ofTend- 
 ded, because she would not join in the 
 usual amusements of their circle. 
 Looking upon Mr. Scott as the sole 
 cause of what 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 to 
 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 
 1 have been the most accustomed." The 
 gentleman was evidently greatly terri- 
 fied ; when Mr. Scott, having attained 
 his end, produced a pocket JBible, 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 !" 
 
 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 
 
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. 
 
 (d) 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 coiner to the field. When 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." " We are 
 not indeed !" 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, &c. 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 ! " What, will you be brand- 
 ed as a coward ?" " Yes, sir, if he 
 pleases ; I always 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. 
 
 1§0. 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 moment one 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. 
 
 (b) THE EMPEROR'S LETTER. 
 — The following letter against dueling, 
 written by Joseph, late Emperor of 
 Germany, was published in 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. 
 I have 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. T despise them ; such men, in 
 my opinion, are worse than the Roman 
 gladiators. Let a council of war be 
 summoned to try those two officers with 
 all the impartiality which I demand 
 
 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 ihe duties of a faithful subject. I 
 wish for none who do not respect the 
 laws of the country. Joseph." 
 
 " Vienna August, 1711." 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 151. EDUCATION OF MINISTERS. 
 
 (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- 
 288 
 
 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 hesitancy of an unedu- 
 cated rustic — " If 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 
 
EDUCATION OF MINISTERS. 
 
 151 
 
 the 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, 
 his 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 magKificent 
 church, rich with the beauties of archi- 
 tecture, and thronged by an immense 
 crowd, who listened in deat/ilike still- 
 ness to the burning eloqi:ence 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- 
 19 
 
 and 
 
 high 
 
 intellectual fore- 
 
 tual eye, 
 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 thai throng would recog- 
 nize in the famed, the learned, the elo- 
 quent president of college, Penn- 
 sylvania, the humble boot-black of 
 
 college, in Kentucky ! 
 
 (b) THE SCHOOLMASTER 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, Mass. 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 oii foot that morn- 
 ing, to see if Mr. M. could help him to 
 contrive how to obtam it. 
 
 Mr. M. asked h:m if he was acquaint- 
 ed with any one in that place. " No." 
 "Can your parents help you towards 
 obtaining an education ?" 
 
 " No." '■' Have you any friends that 
 can give you assistance ?" " No." 
 " Well, -low do you expect to obtain an 
 education ?" " I don't know, but I 
 thouofit I would come and see you." 
 Mr. M. told him to stay that day, and 
 hp would see what could be done. 
 He discovered that the boy was possess- 
 of good sense, but no uncommon bril- 
 liancy, and he was particularly struck 
 with the cool and resolute manner in 
 which he undertook to conquer diffi- 
 culties which would have intimidated 
 weaker minds. In the course of the 
 day, Mr. M. made provision for having 
 him boarded through the winter in 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. 
 289 
 
151, 152 
 
 EDUCATION, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 When 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 countiy. 
 
 (c) DR. BACON'S ADVICE.— "I 
 received a most useful hint," says Ce- 
 cil, " from Dr. Bacon, then father of the 
 University, when I was at college. I 
 used frequently to visit him at his living, 
 near Oxford ; he would frequently say 
 to me, ' What are you doing ? What 
 are your studies V ' I am reading so 
 and so.' ' You are quite wrong. When 
 I was young, I could turn any piece of 
 Hebrew into Greek verse with ease. 
 But when I can^e into this parish, and 
 had to teach igriorant people, I was 
 wholly at a loss ; 1 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 w^s most impor- 
 tant for them to know. Study chiefly 
 what you can turn to good account in 
 your future life.' " 
 
 {d) THE UNKNOWN PKEACH- 
 ER.-The spontaneous preferencb which 
 all persons, free from prejudice, are 
 ready to yield, other things being eq^al, 
 to a preacher who has had the adva^a- 
 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 ap^inted ; 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. 
 
 (a) A PIOUS FATHER AND HIS 
 REFRACTORY SON.— A pious, ten- 
 der father, asked his refractory son, one 
 Sabbath morning, if he was going to at- 
 tend meeting ? The child answered, 
 that he was not. " Why ?'' said his fa- 
 ther. " I have a sore foot," was the 
 290 
 
 answer. ''But you shall ride and I 
 will walk." The child being resolved 
 not to go, made many objections, whicji 
 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 
 
EDUCATION, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 I5d 
 
 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. 
 
 (b) FIRST IMPRESSIONS.— A 
 respectable lady died in 1845, 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 j^man 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 ? 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 ! Of all impressions those are 
 most enduring which are the earliest, 
 (c) 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 
 regularl)^ 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 lessons, 
 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 never 
 can forget one request which he pressed 
 with deep and hearty solicitude : " O 
 Lord! give my children an interest in 
 Christ : whatever else is denied 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 
 officers of churches ; and all of us have 
 as many responsibilities as we can 
 faithfully discharge both of a civil and 
 religious character. 
 
 (c) NO SCOTCH WOMAN 
 THERE. -^The Rev. Dr. Waugh 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 officer returned, and told 
 their honors that there was no Scotch 
 woman in the house. '^ 
 
 291 
 
153 
 
 ELOQUENCE, SACRED. 
 
 153. ELOgXIENCE, SACRED. 
 
 JUDGING MIN- 
 years ago, three 
 
 (a) INDIANS 
 ISTERS. — Some 
 
 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. 
 
 (h) TWO WAYS OF TELLING 
 .^A STORY.— The late Dr. Lathrop, of 
 / West Springfield, Mass., related to Mr. 
 Whitefield a fact which the Dr. had 
 personally witnessed ; and he related it 
 without much feeling. The same day 
 Mr. Whitefield introduced the story in- 
 to his sermon, and Dr. Lathrop as he 
 heard it found himself drowned in 
 
 (c) ELOQUENCE OF STAUGH- 
 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, from his counte- 
 nance and his attitude, that his mind 
 was preparing for some powerful and 
 bverwhelming flood of feeling. He 
 proceeded : " Shall I retire with the 
 292 
 
 desponding reflection, that, in all this 
 congregation, there is not one soul 
 humbled before God ? Shall angels 
 prepare their wings for flight, and the 
 voice of contrition be unheard ? 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, '* Flark !" 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. 
 
 {d) MASSILLON'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 preach, I am very well 
 pleased with them ; 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 state of 
 emotion, that almost every person half 
 rose from his seat, as if to shake off 
 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. 
 
 When Baron, the actor, came from 
 hearing one of Massillon's sermons, he 
 said to a person of the same profession, 
 
ELOQUENCE, SACRED. 
 
 153 
 
 who accompanied him, " Here is an 
 orator ; we are only actors." 
 
 (e) QUITE DIFFERENT 
 PREACHERS.— 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 who professed 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." \ 
 
 (g) NEWTON'S TRIBUTE TO' 
 WHITEFIELD.— In a company of 
 noblemen and gentlemen, at breakfast, 
 Mr. Whitefield having become the sub- 
 ject of conversation, one of the company 
 asked the Rev. John Newton, who was 
 present, if he knew Mr. Whitefield. 
 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 1 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 on an opera night." As a proof 
 of the power of Mr. W.'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. Whitefield'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, " We 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 Whitefield'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- 
 
 ' %) HUME'S TRmUTE TO 
 WHITEFTEDX"— XH~ extraordinary 
 attestation to the excellence of Mr. 
 Whitefield, 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. Whitefield'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.. Whit&field thus 
 addressed his numerous audience : — 
 ' Tlia_att endant angel is just a bout to 
 leave the thresholdj and- -ascend -to hea- 
 ven, , And shall he a.scend, and not / 
 bear with him the news of one sinner, 
 among all this multitude, reclaimed 
 from the error of his ways ?' To give 
 the greater effect to this exclamation, 
 he stamped with his f^ot, 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 thing I 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. Whitefield so ardently longed for 
 on behalf of his hearers. 
 
 (i) FRANKLIN'S TRIBUTE TO 
 WHITEFIELD.— The following anec- 
 dote, related by Dr. Franklin, which is 
 equally characteristic of the preacher 
 and himself, further illustrates the 
 power of Mr. Whitefield '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, that I 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 Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee 
 freely ; but not now, for thee seems to 
 be out of thv rio;ht senses." 
 
 (j) SCULPTOR'S OPINION OF 
 WHITEFIELD.— A baronet was one 
 294 
 
 day examining some works of the cele- 
 brated sculptor, Mr. Bacon, and observed 
 a bust of Mr. Whitefield among them, 
 which led him to remark, " After all 
 that has been said, this was truly a great 
 man ; he was the founder of a new reli- 
 gion." " A new religion, sir !" replied 
 Mr. B. " Yes," said the baronet ; 
 " what do you call it ?" " Nothing," 
 was the reply, " but the old religion re- 
 vived with new energy, and treated as 
 if the preacher meant what he said." 
 
 (A:) 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- 
 pel. 
 
 ( 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. W. I could not lay a sinsrle 
 plank." 
 
 (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 had 
 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 join the congre- 
 gation. On my entrance, I was struck 
 
NATURE OF LOVE TO ENEMIES. 
 
 153, 154 
 
 with his supernatural appearance. He 
 was a tall and very spare old iman ; 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, 
 the 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 faltered, 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 
 
 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 reiiijned throui^hout 
 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 been an angel of light, 
 the effect could have scarcely been more 
 divine." 
 
 (tz) FLETCHER'S APPEAL.— 
 When the P^ev. J. W. 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, that 
 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. 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 151. Nature of Love to Enemies. 
 
 (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 missionary to 
 Greenland. 
 
 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 
 
154 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 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 amiahle 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 ch(5erfully 
 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 with your relations, but this 
 you must not do, if you wish to become 
 a believer." 
 
 Agitated, he answered, " But he mur- 
 dered my father !" 
 
 For a long time the missionary press- 
 ed this point, the poor awakened heathen 
 promising to " kill only one." Bui this 
 was not enough. " Thou shalt do no 
 murder," Saabye insisted was the com- 
 mand of the Great Lord of heaven. 
 He 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 
 296 
 
 the command. He retired to consult 
 his friends. They urged him to re- 
 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 of 
 Saabye. " I will," said he, " and I 
 will not ; I hear, and I do not hear. I 
 never felt so before ; I will forgive him, 
 and I will not forgive him." The mis- 
 sionary told him, " When he iwuld 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 ! — 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, " Now I 
 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 afl;er, 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 tlie 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 !" 
 
 What a noble example of self-con- 
 quest ! What an illustrious exhibition 
 of the power of the gospel ! 
 
 (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 
 
BLESSING ENEMIES. 
 
 154, 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. Plappily, 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 ?" said the mission- 
 ary to the people. " What shall I do 
 to him ?" " 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 injuriously." Then, 
 turning to the culprit, he addressed him 
 in these words : " 1 forgive you from my 
 heart ; but never forget that you owe 
 your escape from punishment to that 
 lesus 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 !" " Victory to Jesus 
 Christ !" 
 
 (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 Jacob'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 
 hold 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, " Well, sup- 
 posing you could find the man, what 
 would you do to him ?" " Do to him ?" 
 
 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 LOYE TO ENEMIES. 
 
 Uk Blessing Enemies. 
 
 {a) MUNMOTH AND THE PA- 
 PIST. — 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 very 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 
 j in the street, he would go out of his way. 
 I " One time it happened that he met him 
 I 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. 
 The 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 ? 
 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 chari- 
 tah/y, and friend/y, 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 affliction, 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." 
 
 (h) 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 
 
155, 156 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 of Blamontj 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 Besanqon repaired to the 
 town, and immediately requested to see 
 Mr. Nardin. 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 Besanqon ; 
 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. 
 
 1§6. Doing God to Enemies. 
 
 (a) THE UNRULY CATTLE.— 
 
 The horse of a pious man living in Mas- 
 sachusetts, happening to stray into the 
 298 
 
 road, a neighbor of the man who owned 
 the horse put him into the pound. Meet- 
 ing the owner soon after, he told him 
 what he had done ; '• and if I 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." 
 
 (b) 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 prac- 
 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 
 v^rists. He mocked at her sufferings, 
 and tauntingly asked, " U tla 'mpona 
 kai ? Rumela !" " Where shall you 
 see me again ? 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, that 
 
156 
 
 DOING GOOD TO ENEIMIES. 
 
 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 mofamagari, 
 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 ? 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 Barolong nation. To 
 
 this day, one of them may be kept from 
 an unkind action by the oppressed 
 party exclaiming, " U tla 'mpona kai ? 
 Rumela !" 
 
 (c) SOUTHEY AND THE 
 BLACK BOY.— Acts of kindness and 
 soft words have an irresistible power, 
 even over an enemy. " When I was 
 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 appointment I had the misfortune 
 to break my skates, and I could not go 
 without borrowing Jim's skates. 1 went 
 to him and asked him for them. ' O 
 yes, John, you may have them, and 
 welcome,' was his answer. When 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 
 skates, and was under great obligations 
 to him 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 lell the room. The 
 words pierced my heart, and I burst 
 into tears, and from that time I'esolved 
 never again to abuse a poor black." 
 
 {d) THE SLAVE'S CONDUCT 
 EXPLAINED.— 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 his 
 plantation. On one^occasion, his owner 
 wishing, to purchase twenty additional 
 slaves, employed him to make the se- 
 lection from those who were offered hv 
 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 mastei 
 he must take him for one. The master 
 299 
 
ENEMIES, LOVE 10. 
 
 156 
 
 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 
 mder 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 to our enemies. Matt. 5 : 44 ; 
 and I believe the Osages are the great- 
 est enemies the Cherokees have." 
 
 300 
 
 (/) THE SHIPWRECKED SPAN- 
 IARDS. — 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. Not^vithstanding the 
 object for which this fleet had been se^it^ 
 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 Christianity 
 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 mariners kail, pottage, 
 and fish ; — the minister having ad- 
 dressed his flock, as Elisha did the 
 King of Israel in Samaria, " Give them 
 bread and water." 
 
 (g) 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 enemy 
 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 BIBLE.— 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; 
 
PRAYIN(i 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 
 why 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 
 "overcome evil with good!" 
 
 (^•) DR. MATHER'S AMBITION. 
 — It was the laudable ambition of Cot- 
 ton Mather to say, " He did not knov/ 
 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 
 BROWN.— 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. After the clergyman's 
 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 will, 
 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." 
 
 157. Praying for Enemies. 
 
 (a) JAMES THE LESS AND THE 
 PHARISEES.— About the year A. D. 
 63, when Festus 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. 
 
 (b) ADVICE OF MR. LAW- 
 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 despitefuliy 
 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 
 f^r 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 
 affection for the doctor as to surprise 
 all who heard him. Being aflerwards 
 asked why he manifested such respect 
 
 301 
 
157 
 
 ENEMIES, 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 
 orayers. We must prove ourselves to 
 De the disciples of Christ by loving our 
 enemies, and praying for our persecu- 
 tors." 
 
 id) MR. BURKITT AND HIS 
 INJURIES.— Mr. Burkitt observes in 
 his journal, 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 anecdote. 
 
 I will relate a 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 
 up!" 
 
 (/) 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- 
 302 
 
 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. 
 Fie 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, wai 
 summoned to his master's presence) 
 and after much violent and abusiv< 
 language, received five-and-twenty lash, 
 es, and then in a sarcastic tone of bh 
 phemous ridicule, his master exclaimedj 
 " What can Jesus Christ do for yoi 
 now ?" " He enables me to bear i 
 patiently," said the poor child. " Givi 
 him five-and-twenty-lashes more," saic 
 the inhuman wretch. He was obeyed 
 " And what can Jesus Christ do fol 
 you now ?" asked the unfeeling mon 
 ster. " He helps me to look forwan 
 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, 
 " What can Jesus Christ do for you 
 now ?" 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 
 
EXAMPLES AMONG THEfftEATHEN. 
 
 15§ 
 
 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, h(; 
 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. 
 
 158. Examples among the Ilcatlieii. 
 
 (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 market-place, 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. 
 
 (h) EXAMPLE OF C^SAR.— Itis 
 said of Julius Ccesar, 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. 
 
 (c) 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- 
 ing 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. 
 
 (d) EXAMPLE OF EUCLID.— 
 Euclid, a disciple of Socrates, having 
 offended his brother, the brother cried 
 
 out in a ra^e, " Let me die, if I am not 
 rovenged 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.''. What a reproof to unforgiving 
 professors of Christianity ! 
 
 (e) THE SAYING OF SOCRA- 
 TES. — Socrates, who was as pure a 
 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." 
 
 (/) 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 ? 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 last 
 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. 
 
 (g) THE INDIAN AND THE 
 ENGLISHMAN.— 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. Not 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, this gentleman, who 
 was fond of shooting, pursued his game 
 303 
 
15S 
 
 I^MIES, 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 gentleman 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 3^our own door ; and I will 
 give you a piece of advice : when a 
 poor Indian, that is hungry, and dry, 
 and faint, again asks you for a little 
 meat, or drink, do not bid him ^et 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 Salvor's golden rule in Matt. 
 vii. 12 ? 
 
 (h) THE SLAVE'S REVENGE.— 
 When 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 | 
 304 
 
 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 thehi their liberty, 
 which was the greatest reward in her 
 power to bestow ; but certainly far short 
 of the services they had rendered her. 
 (i) LIVIA'S ADVI(!e TO AUGUS- 
 TUS. — The Emperor Augustus being 
 informed of a conspiracy against his 
 life, headed by Lucius Cinna, was at 
 first moved by resentment to resolve 
 upon the crudest 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 ? Must there be no end of 
 my cruelties ? Is my life of so great a 
 value, that oceans of blood must be shed 
 to preserve it ?" 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 ; 
 Coepio, Murena ; and Egnatius, Coepio. 
 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 astonished 
 and silent with the consciousness of guilt, 
 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 
 
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 aftei*, 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 often checks and reforms them. 
 
 (a) A KISS FOR A BLOW.— I 
 
 once lived in Boston, says Mr. Wright, 
 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. 1 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 
 20 
 
 to return good for evil. She thought if 
 her brother struck her, she, of course, 
 must strike him back. She had alwayy 
 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 deai 
 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. Soor 
 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 poor boy was 
 wholly unprepared for such a kind re- 
 turn for his blow. He could not en- 
 dure the generous aflfection of his sister. 
 It broke his heart, and he burst out cry- 
 ing. The gentle sister took the comer 
 of her apron and wiped away his tears, 
 and sought to comfort him, by saying, 
 with most endearinof sweetness and c^e- 
 nerous affection, ^' DonH 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." 1 
 told them I thought differently ; but as 
 Hindoos were someM^hat 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 
 305 
 
159 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 they thought they could not endure this, 
 they 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. " No," said they, " why should 
 they abuse us now ?" 
 
 But, said I, what do you do when 
 they abuse you ? 
 
 One boy said, " When they curse 
 me, I say to them, ' A blessing attend 
 you.' " 
 
 Well, what then ? 
 
 " 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 ? 
 
 " O, thev turned up their noses, and 
 walked offV' 
 
 (c) 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- 
 ly enraged because he had killed my 
 beautiful hens, that I valued so much. 
 I determined, at once, fo 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 
 thouglit that perhaps it was not best to 
 fight with my neighbor about hens, and 
 thereby make him my bitter, lasting 
 enemy. I concluded to trj^ another 
 way, being sure that it would do better. 
 " After dinner, I went to my neigh 
 306 
 
 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. 
 I accosted him. He turned upon me, 
 his face inflamed with wrath, and broke 
 out in a great fury — 
 
 " 'You have abused me. I will kill 
 all your hens, if I can get at them. I 
 never was so abused. My gkrden 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. I will 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 dairjage 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.' " 
 (d) CRUELTY KILLED BY 
 KINDNESS.— 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, asked 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 ?" asked 
 the neighbor. " Did they abuse you ?" 
 
 " They loved me to death, and killed 
 me with kindness," said he. 1 can 
 never forgive myself for treating so 
 cruelly my own darling daughter, who 
 loved me so 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 difficulties between man and 
 man ? 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, 
 did right in treating him as she did. 
 That father was her enemy, but she 
 was not his. He hated her, while she 
 loved him. 
 
 (e) 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 
 shrivelled 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- 
 ning, but that it must have been occa- 
 sioned by the intentional mischief of 
 some treacherous 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. His friend 
 strongly urged that the offender should 
 be prosecuted, and offered to bear wit- 
 ness against him. But the proprietor re- 
 plied, " No ; 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 good." 
 
 (/) WILLIAM 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. Whenever I 
 rode by I 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 two ; but the legs of his sheep 
 were long, and my grain more tempting 
 307 
 
159 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 than the adjoining pasture. I rode by 
 again — the sheep were still there; I 
 became angry, and told my 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 1 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 yo,ur own 
 conduct the peace principle you are 
 teaching to others V 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 ? 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 my 
 whole flock.' 
 
 " Pulsifer looked confounded ; he did 
 not know how to take me. At last he 
 stammered out : ' Now, 'Squire, are you 
 in earnest?' 'Certainly I am,' I an- 
 swered ; ' it is better for me to feed 
 your sheep in my pasture on grass, than 
 to 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 
 308 
 
 you talk of injuring your neighbors, 
 they will talk of injuring you. When 
 nations threaten 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 good. 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 overcome, 
 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 
 thinij in all this contrary to nature ? 
 
 (h) MR. POWELL AND THE 
 OFFICER.— Mr. Powell, a minister of 
 the gospel, being informed that an offi- 
 cer was come to apprehend him for 
 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 officer complied ; and the 
 family being together, the officer was 
 
IT OFTEN CHANGES THEM INTO FRIENDS. 
 
 160 
 
 so struck with the ardent and tender 
 prayers of this suffering servant of God 
 for his family, for the church, and for 
 his persecutors in particular, that he de- 
 clared he would die rather than have a 
 hand in apprehending such a man. 
 
 160. It often changes tliem 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, 
 thd 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 
 friends, and did nothing but diffuse his 
 praises wherever he went. On hearing 
 this, Philip turned to his courtiers and 
 asked, with a smile : " Am not I a bet- 
 ter physician than you ?" 
 
 (b) 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." 
 
 (c) 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?" 
 
 (d) THE CHINESE MONARCH 
 AND THE REBELS.— A Chinese em- 
 peror 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- 
 
 proach. All now thought that he would 
 take the most signal revenge ; but were 
 surprised to see the captives treated with 
 mildness and humanity. " Hov/," cried 
 the first minister, " is this tlie 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 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 
 overcome evil with good." 
 
 (e) 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 vv^ay. He hated his 
 pious neighbor ; but more, probably, on 
 account of his piety than any thing else. 
 He was always vexing and tormenting 
 the good man, quarreling about mere 
 trifles, 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 
 there came up a storm of rain. 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 good 
 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 ? 
 
 When the quarrelsome man came 
 home, expecting to see his hay all soaked 
 by the rain, and found it had been taken 
 care of by the man he had so much in- 
 jured, it cut him to the very core. From 
 309 
 
160 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 that hour the evil spirit was cast out of 
 
 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. 
 
 (/) HOW 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 White, I want you to come 
 and get your geese away.' 'Why,' 
 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.' ' U you do 
 not take care of them I shall,' said the 
 clever shoemaker, in anger. ' What do 
 you say. Esquire White V '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 offhe 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 ihro^'n 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. 
 1 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 M'ith it in the road". 
 By this time the shoemaker came in 
 great haste after them. 
 
 " ' Have you seen any thing of my 
 hogs?' 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. 
 done? 
 
 " Well, off he went to look, and esti- 
 mated the damage to be equal to a 
 bushel and a-half of com. 
 
 " ' 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 
 310 
 
 ' ' How much mischief have they 
 O, not much,' said I. 
 
 home. The next winter, when we came 
 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. I killed three of 
 your geese, and shall never rest until 
 you know how I feel. I am 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 
 ONES. — 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 to 
 those with whom he became offended. 
 Forgiveness, or m*cy, nobody expected 
 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. " If I 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 
 
IT OFTEN CHANGES THEM INTO FRIENDS. 
 
 160 
 
 corn-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 !" 
 
 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 mij 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 ! 
 " No," replied the other, " I shall make 
 no account of the damtiges your hogs 
 have done ; and I shall take nothing for 
 what you did to mine. I lot 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. 
 
 (A) A CHRISTIAN COLONY.— 
 One of thirty or forty New Englanders, 
 who went out to settle in the Western 
 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 ? 
 
 " 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 
 
160 
 
 ENEMIES. LOVE TO. 
 
 creed. The colony of practical Chris- 
 tians spoke of their depreciations in 
 terms of gentlest remonstrance, and re- 
 paid them with mivarying 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, and offered their services to 
 settle disputes. They answered, " We 
 have no need of you. As neighbors we 
 receive you in the most friendly spirit ; 
 but for us your occupation has ceased 
 to exist." " What will you do, if 
 rascals burn your barns, and steal your 
 harvests?" " We 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 ; 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 off horses' 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- 
 ble obtained no fees. The sheriff stam- 
 mered and apologized, when he took their 
 hard earned goods in payment for the war 
 312' 
 
 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 v^'ere 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 Avere 
 flocking to the auction ; 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 v/as eagerly bought in at seven- 
 teen, twenty-five, and forty dollars an 
 acre. The Christian colony had small 
 hope of retaining their farms. As first 
 settlers, they had chosen the best land; 
 and persevering 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 expostulating : 
 " Don't bid on these lands ! These men 
 have been working hard on them for ten 
 years. During all that time, they 
 never did harm to man or brute. 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 llieir land. Let them go at 
 the government price." 
 
 " The sale came on ; the cultivators 
 of the soil offered 8l 25 ; intending to 
 bid higher if necessary. But among 
 all that crowd of selfish, reckless spec- 
 ulators, not one bid over them ! With- 
 
IT OFTEN LEADS THEM TO BECOME CHRISTIANS. 
 
 161 
 
 out one opposing voice, the fair acres 
 returned to them ! I do not know a 
 more remarkable instance of evil over- 
 conie with good. The wisest political 
 economy lies folded up in the maxims 
 of Christ." 
 
 161. It often leads tliem 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 v/ords 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, 
 took 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. 
 
 {b) THE CRUEL SLAVE-HOLD- 
 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 
 
 I 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 affectionate 
 and devoted, solely because regenerated 
 slave. And when the time came for a 
 public 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 to 
 feel shame and contrition for what he 
 313 
 
163 
 
 ENEMIES, LOVE TO. 
 
 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 disposhion. 
 
 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, " Young man, the Savior says, 
 ' Whoso 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 ! 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- 
 ligion. The more he thought of himself, ; 
 the more ashamed and miserable did he j 
 314 
 
 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 sailor became a 
 hopeful Christian. 
 
 There is reason to believe that many 
 sinners might be converted from tlie 
 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. 
 
 162. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) LOVE TO ENEMIES OB- 
 TAINED BY PRAYER.— There was 
 
 a man 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- j 
 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. 
 Ho 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 J 
 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 
 
ENVY. 
 
 1C2, 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 wo, 
 when you feel it yourself 
 
 When he afterwards forgot the need 
 of thi^ heavenly help, he would some- 
 times fall again into liis 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. 
 
 {b) EXAMPLE OF THE EARLY 
 CHRISTLA.NS.— Justin Martyr, one of 
 the earliest writers, in his '•' Apology " 
 to the heathen in behalf of the Chris- 
 tians, says: " We 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 ; loe 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 hopeof enjoying the same privileges 
 from God the Lord of all things." 
 
 (c) EXAMPLE OF ORIGEN.— 
 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 church 
 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 na 
 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 un- 
 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 doinfj eood 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 
 pestilence. 
 
 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." 
 
 {h) SADNESS OF MUTIUS.— 
 Mutius, a citizen of Rome, was noted to 
 be of so envious and malevolent a dis- 
 position, 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 another's joy, 
 And hates that excellence it cannot reach." 
 
 {d) CONVERSION HINDERED. 
 
 — Mary was one of the first youths 
 315 
 
164, 165 
 
 ETERNITY— ETIQUETTE, UNDUE REGARD TO. 
 
 (says a correspondent of the New-York 
 Evangelist) who were awakened dur- 
 ing an interesting revival. When many 
 of her companions submitted, she linger- 
 ed. Her convictions were powerful, 
 her anguish was severe. At length 
 she felt that she must and would sub- 
 mit, and said that she was willing to be 
 in the hands of God. Still all was 
 darkness and 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 
 
 sinile of joy kindled upon her grief- 
 worn countenance, 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 that I 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. ETERNITi. 
 
 (a) DUMB BOY'S EXPLANA- 
 TION. — 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 life-time of the Almighty." 
 
 {h) 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 ?" 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 ! 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 !" The consequence of this 
 impression was, that she laid aside her 
 cards, forsook her gay company, and 
 set herself seriously to prepare for 
 another world. 
 
 (c) 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." 
 
 165. 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 the chair ; the 
 domestics could not presume to enter the 
 316 
 
 apartment, because it was against the 
 etiquette. 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 tie Duke d'Usseda 
 oufjht to be called uoon, as it was his 
 
EXAMPLE, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 165, 160 
 
 business. The duke was gone out, the 
 iire burned fiercer, and the king en- 
 dured 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 ! The Spanish 
 princess, however, condescended, in con- 
 sideration of the circumstances, to par- 
 don the soldier, and very benevolently 
 saved his life ! 
 
 {h) VlCTIiM OF ETIQUETTE. 
 — The preposterous degree of etiquette 
 for which the court of Spain has always 
 been remarkable proved the ruin of one 
 
 of the most illustrious of Spaniards, in 
 the person of the Duke of Ossuna. 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 unconscious 
 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. 
 
 166. EXAMPLE, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 {a) THE MINISTER AND THE 
 INFIDEL.— 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- 
 per, " I watched him with incessant 
 vigilance. My opportunities of know- 
 ing his character were such as occur 
 in the variety and minutise of domestic 
 
 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 
 
160 
 
 EXAMPLE, C?IRISTIAN. 
 
 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 1 also am 
 of Christ," 1 Cor. xi. 1. 
 
 (b) PETERBOROUGH AND 
 FENELON.— When Lord Peterbo- 
 rough lodged for a season with Fenelon, 
 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 mvself." 
 
 (c) IRREFUTABLE ARGUMENT. 
 — Mr. Innes, 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!" 
 (d) THE MOTHER'S CONFES- 
 SION. — 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, 
 weeping, 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 
 
 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 am 
 wrong — I have seen lier firm under re- 
 proach, and patient under provocation, 
 and cheerful in all her sufferings. When, 
 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 mo. How can I bear to see her 
 joining the church of God, and leaving 
 me behind — perhaps for ever !" 
 
 From that hour she prayed in earnest, 
 that the God of her child would bo her 
 God, and was soon seen walking with 
 her in the way everlasting. 
 
 (e) SUCCESS WITH THE IM- 
 PENITENT.— It is said of a follower 
 of Christ who lived many years ago in 
 Western New- 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 in 
 me." Here was the secret of her pow- 
 er. What 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. 
 
 318 
 
EXPERIENCE, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 167, 16S 
 
 EXPERIENCE, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 167. Effect of relating, &c. 
 
 (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 1 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 be 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 ®f God." 
 
 At this time the young man who had 
 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. 
 
 {h) 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 assem- 
 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. I have 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 ?" 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 WORK 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 
 
168, 169 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 that he has left any record of it behind 
 him. While a student at the 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 
 Holland, 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 by 
 those present, that they had never before 
 witnessed so interesting a scene. 
 
 (b) JOHN NEWTON AND MR. 
 OCCAM.— When 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 WE 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 V 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 asked her if she could see 
 in that plan to save, that there was room 
 for her. ' No, not for me, I am such 
 a sinner,' she said, and the fresh tor- 
 rents of tears attested the sincerity of 
 her confession. Then I told her of the 
 J>20 
 
 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 promises 
 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?' 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 as 
 of a friend. 
 
NECESSITY OF FAITH. 
 
 169, 170 
 
 (h) THE SAILOR'S EXPLANA- 
 TION. — 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 several proofs that his labors 
 were not in vain. One sailor, named 
 
 R , had been brought to trust in 
 
 Christ for 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 that I 
 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 dilEIicult of explana- 
 tion, while the unsophisticated feelings 
 of genuine piety find a ready re^onse 
 in every awakened mind. 
 
 (c) A VENTURESOME BELIEV- 
 ING. — 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 :' and 
 those words of Job occurred — ' Though 
 he slay me, yet will I trust him.' My 
 burden dropped off; my soul was filled 
 with joy and peace through believing 
 21 
 
 in Christ; a venturesome ielieving, 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- 
 spects." 
 
 (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 slmll live hy faith.'' 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. 
 
 {h) THE FARMER'S FAITH.— 
 A king of Sweden was under great im- 
 pressions of spiritual religion for some 
 time before his death. A peasant being 
 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 iiue na- 
 ture of faith ?" The peasant entered 
 deeply ir^to the subject, and much to 
 the king's comfort and satisfaction. The 
 king, at last, lying 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." 
 
 (c) RIDDLE'S DYING TESTI- 
 MONY.— 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 
 1 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 ; 1 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. Yet I 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 
 hope." 
 
 322 
 
 (e) MRS. JUDSON'S EXPERT- 
 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 I threw myself on the 
 mercy of Christ. Then came light,, 
 and relief, and comfort, such as I never 
 knew before." 
 
 (/) PAYSON'S HAPPINESS.^ 
 " 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 ever I 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. I do 
 not experience those transports which 
 some have expressed in the view of 
 death ; but my dependence is on the 
 jnercy of God in Christ. Here ray re- 
 ligion began, and here it must end," 
 
 171. Example of Faitli. 
 
 (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. 
 
TRIUMPHS OF FAITH. 
 
 172 
 
 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- 
 ing of twenty-three persons, got upon 
 the rock, but were successively washed 
 off 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-sufficient 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. 
 
 172. Triumphs of Faith. 
 
 [a] CASE OF REV. DR. AIL- 
 MER. — This excellent man was rector 
 of Much Hadham, Herts., and died in 
 1025, 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 
 bless my God, I have no fear, no doubt, no 
 reluctance, but a sure confidence in the 
 sin-overcoming merits of Jesus Christ." 
 
 (h) 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 ?" 
 
 " 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 !" 
 
 (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 !" 
 
 (d) 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, he 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." "When," 
 said he, "I consider the infinite dignity 
 and all-sufficiency 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 
 
 323 
 
172 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 sting ?" Displaying his characteristic 
 fervor, as though he saw the tyrant ap- 
 proaching, he said, " What art thou ? 
 I am not afraid of thee. Thou art a 
 vanquished enemy through the blood of 
 the crqps." 
 
 (e) ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF 
 STAUPICIUS.— 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. 
 
 (/) 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) COWPER'S VIEW OF 
 DEATH. — " 1 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- 
 ed of his sting by having sheathed it 
 in the body of Jesus Christ." 
 
 {h) WATTS AND THE PRO- 
 MISES.— The faith of Dr. Watts in the 
 promises of God was lively and un- 
 324 
 
 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 promises, which do not re- 
 quire much labor and pains to under- 
 stand them ; for I can do nothing now 
 but look into my Bible for some pro- 
 mise to support me, and live upon that." 
 {i) 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 ? 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, 
 
 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 officious 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 
 
 1 now seal with my blood." 
 
 (j) 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 
 liie 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- 
 
FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 173 
 
 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 
 
 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 ? " What do I see but Clyist in 
 one of his members wrestling there ? 
 Think you that we are the sufferers ? 
 No, 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. — Jerome 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 Constantine, 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 
 l!ie offer, though the advancing of one 
 I'alf-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 sufferings, rather than 
 commit the least sins. 
 
 (c) PRINCE OF CONDfi AND 
 CHARLES IX.— The prince of Conde 
 being taken prisoner by Charles IX, 
 king of France, and put to his choice 
 
 whether he would go to mass or be 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) KAPIOLANI'S CONTEMPT 
 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. When 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 
 MARTYRS.— Cyprian, when on his 
 325 
 
173 
 
 FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 road to suffer martyrdom, was told by 
 the emperor, that he would give him 
 time to consider whether he had not 
 better cast a grain of incense into 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 Huss 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, 1 
 would lose them all in the fire, before I 
 would lose Christ." 
 
 Galeazius, a gentleman of great 
 wealth, who suffered martyrdom at St. 
 Angelo, in Italy, being much entreated 
 by his friends to recant, 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 
 326 
 
 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 afflicted 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 ?" 
 
FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 173 
 
 With a look of resignation I shall 
 neve^ 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 ?" 
 
 " 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 day I 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 
 1 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, 
 
 "Now, sir, will you pray again?" 
 "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. 
 
 (h) 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 attendants to that city. 
 One of the harbingers employed to ar- 
 range lodginc;^s for the party, marked 
 out the doctor's house, which he had in 
 right of his 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- 
 
 sequence, compelled to seek an abode 
 elsewhere, to her own great inconven- ' 
 ience, and the 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, "Not for his kingdom." No 
 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, " Who 
 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. 
 
 (i) 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 
 
1T4, 1Y5 
 
 FLATTERY— 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 him ne was wed satis- 
 fied with his condition. 
 
 Eckius accepted Calvin's invitation to 
 (line 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 fiis 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 them how he had 
 been presented oy tne 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 ! Eckius 
 was now convinced that all efforts to 
 secure the apostacy of Calvin would be 
 in vain, and made no further attempt. 
 
 174. FLATTERY. 
 
 (a) 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 efforts 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 '' 
 
 {b) 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 shouM 
 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." 
 
 175 FORBEARANCE. 
 
 (a) DR. WALL'S INJURERS.— 
 
 Dr. Wall, sometime Bishop of Nor- 
 wich, who was as humble and courteous 
 as he was learned and devout, used to ! 
 say, " I would suffer a thousand wrongs i 
 rather than do one ; I would suffer a | 
 hundred rather than return one ; and ! 
 endure many rather than complain of j 
 one, or obtain my right by contending : 
 for I have always observed, that con- 
 tending with one's superiors is foolish ; 
 with one's equals, is dubious ; and with 
 one's inferiors, is mean-spirited and 
 sordid. Suits at law may be some- 
 times necessary, but he had need be 
 328 
 
 more than a man who can manage them 
 with justice and innocence." 
 
 {bj MAKING A DIFFERENCE.— 
 Rev. Legh Richmond was once con- 
 versing with a brother clergyman on 
 the case of a poor man who had acted 
 inconsistently with his religious pro- 
 fession. After some angry and severe 
 remarks on the conduct of such per- 
 sons, the gentleman with whom he was 
 discussing the case concluded by say- 
 ing, " I have no notion of such pre- 
 sences ; I will have nothing to do with 
 him." " Nay, brother, let us be hum- 
 ble and moderate. Remember who ha» 
 
FORBEARANCE. 
 
 1T5 
 
 said, ' making a dilFerence :' 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 ?" 
 
 (c) 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 congregation^ were too 
 difficult for them, the substance of his 
 advice would be, " Brother, compass 
 them !" '' 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 cast away 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 have 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 be 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 
 Islanders. 
 
 (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. 
 
 ' (/) CLAUDE AND THE PRI- 
 SONER. — 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 into 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. 
 
 (g) THE CONVERTED 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 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 into Mr. Symes's chapel," and 
 heard the gospel, and was alarmed. 
 He returned again and again, and at 
 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 
 round, 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- 
 band would prejudice his health by an 
 excess of study. When 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 
 5'ears' study more." 
 
 (i) COTTON MATHER'S LI- 
 BELS. — Dr. Cotton Mather wis re- 
 markable for the sweetness of his tem- 
 per. He took some interest in the poli- 
 tica. concerns of his country, and, oil 
 
 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." 
 
 (j) THE TWO ^STUDENTS.— 
 Two students of one of our Universities 
 had a slight misunderstanding. One of 
 them was a warm-blooded Southron. 
 He concey^ed himself insulted, and be- 
 gan to demand satisfaction, according 
 to his perverse notions of honor. Ho 
 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 fev/ 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 spoken and acted like a fool ; can 
 you forgive 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 
 
FORGIVENESS 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 thyself." Philip, though he per- 
 ceived all the persons present were high- 
 ly offended 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." 
 
 (b) 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 com.pleted 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." 
 
 (c) GENERAL OGLETHORPE 
 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. 
 W. 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 revenged 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. W. looking calmly at him, " you 
 never sin." The general was quite 
 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." 
 
 (d) THE CHRISTIAN'S PERSE- 
 CUTOR.— " What great matter," said 
 a heathen tyrant to a Christian, while 
 he was beating him almost to death — 
 " What great matter did Christ ever do 
 you ?" " Even this," answered the 
 Christian, " that I can forgive you, 
 though you use me so cruelly." 
 
 (e) MATTHEW 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. 
 
 331 
 
176, 177 
 
 FORTUNE- TELLING. 
 
 (/) THE NOBLEMAN'S PRAY- 
 ER. — In 1831, 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 !" 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. 
 
 (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 wiljp a pass 6f 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 for nature 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. 
 
 332 
 
 (/;) 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 
 scld 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 
 
FRETFULNESS— FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 iy§, 179 
 
 had so often told their fortunes, and had 
 promised them such good luclc, could be 
 so much altered ? 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 
 wouM starve." 
 
 178. FRETFULNESS. 
 
 (a) «I DON'T WANT TO GO 
 TO HEAVEN."— Ther^ was a cler- 
 gyman, who was of nervous tempera- 
 ment, and often became quite vexed, by 
 finding 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." 
 
 " Do not want to go to heaven, my 
 son ■?" 
 
 "No, Ma, I'm sure I don't." 
 
 " Why not, my son ?" 
 
 " Why, 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 V 
 I don't want to go to heaven if grandpa 
 is going there." 
 
 (/>) 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 subject 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. 
 
 (c) THE TWO 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 1" 
 " These !" cried the other gardener, 
 " why these are what I sowed immedi- 
 ately after my loss." "What! 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." " True," 
 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 aflJairs 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 for 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 
 
1T9 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 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 fail in any article of his honor. 
 He cannot fail therein, my lord : I am 
 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 
 been 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 
 334 
 
 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 I 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 !" 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 scaffold, 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 havq no- 
 thing but death to suffer, and am de- 
 livered from the anguish of those 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 : andj 
 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." 
 
 (h) THE VICAR AND MASSIL- 
 LON. — Some years ago, a traveller, 
 passing through Clermont, wished to 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 179 
 
 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 whiclj 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. 
 
 (c) DR. WATTS' LONG VISIT.— 
 A lady of quality being on a visit to 
 Dr. Watts, the doctor thus accosted her : 
 " Madam, your ladyship is come to see 
 me on a very remarkable day !" 
 " Why 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, 1 consider as the best visit my 
 family ever received." 
 
 {d) CUD JOE AND MURRAY.— 
 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, William 
 Murray, sick on shore, and sailed with- 
 out him. Murray was at the house of 
 a blqick named Cudjoe, with whom he 
 contracted an acquaintance during their 
 trade. He recovered, and the sloop be- 
 ing gone, he continued with his black 
 
 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 good 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. 
 What good man will ever come again 
 under my roof, if I let my floor be 
 stained by a good man's blood ?" 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. Jeffer- 
 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 Chorokees, 
 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 Col. Byrd. He came 
 335 
 
1§0 
 
 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 determination." 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 180. Sustained by Fraud. 
 
 (a) THE CHEATER 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 to 
 help him in his next hand. The follow- 
 ing case, which occurred on a western 
 steamboat, shows how men will 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 ; I'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 ; 
 I have played seven cards all the way 
 through from the word go; besides 
 stocking and palming occasionally for 
 the sake of variety. The gambler was 
 greatly surprised and swore that he 
 would not have supposed, that he much 
 more than knew one card from another ; 
 but he was deceived in the man, and it 
 a3« 
 
 would not have done for him to have 
 shown any anger, as he first confessed 
 having cheated the Hoosier, who was in 
 fact a most expert gambler, and had 
 purposely assumed that disguise. 
 
 (b) 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, they 
 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 "vvould 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 givi;ig out that the 
 ticket had been sold to him; and ac- 
 
DESTROYS NATURAL SENSIBILITY. 
 
 1§0, 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 prize 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 
 got ahead of him, and after running 
 some distance, the fast horse fell again, 
 and the slow horse won the race. 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 
 the jockey nearly a hundred miles, but 
 did not succeed in overtaking him. 
 
 (d) TABLE WITH A HOLLOW 
 LEG. — There are men apparently en- 
 gaged in business, whose stores are, in 
 the upper apartments, extensive gam- 
 bling establishments. Of those who go to 
 such places, few ever come out winners ; 
 because there are fixed contrivances h7 
 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 to 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 he fled. 
 
 181. Destroys Natural SensiMIity. 
 
 (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 Walpole mentions an anecdote 
 
 22 
 
 337 
 
ISl, 182 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 of a man having in his time dropped 
 down dead at the door of White'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. 
 
 {b) A GAME WITH A CORPSE.— 
 The desperate depravity to which gam- 
 bling reduces its votaries is strikingly 
 illustrate^ 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 ! ! Shameless, sacrilegious doings 
 that none but gamblers could think of 
 without shuddering ! ! 
 
 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. 
 
 18i leads to Bankruptcy and Snicide. 
 
 (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 that 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 cut a button and ban- 
 338 
 
 tered the young man to win it at " faro" 
 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 1 ac won some 
 eight or ten dollars, and there 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. 
 
 (b) 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, 
 
LEADS TO BANKRUPTCY AND SUICIDE. 
 
 1§3 
 
 and to which place the boat was bound. 
 But the marble-hearted winner insisted 
 upon the New Orleans price as the 
 basis of the calculation, and which would 
 have left the loser in his debt to a large 
 amount, for which he demanded a due- 
 bill ! 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 
 bankrupt f 
 
 (c) THE FIREMAN'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 vaiuq. 
 
 (d) THE FATAL GAME.— By 
 the device called hockelty in playing/aro, 
 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 faro 
 bank. He lost, and during his play, he 
 was caught in hockelty for twenty-two 
 hundred dollars at one bet. The deal- 
 er had Avon 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 War- 
 rington, Mississippi, will know the per- 
 son here spoken of, as I understand 
 
 his family or relatives lived in or near 
 that place. Such have been the bane- 
 ful efTects of this game, that it was a 
 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 
 under his own observation. 
 
 " Though I never in my life won or 
 lost five pounds at play, I was a fre- 
 339 
 
183, 1S4 
 
 GENEROSITY. 
 
 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 
 Royale, who stood opposite me, and 
 waiting the turn of a card which was to 
 decide whether he should, at once, re- 
 turn 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 ! After a few seconds he return- 
 ed to his place. His last stake was 
 lost ! 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. W., 
 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. GENEROSITY. 
 
 (a) DEMETRIUS AND THE 
 ATHENIANS.— It is related of De- 
 metrius, (surnamed the Conqueror of 
 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 
 consequence of great scarcity of pro- 
 visions. Demetrius then ordered them, 
 S40 
 
 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 magnanimity honor- 
 
GENEROSITY. 
 
 184 
 
 able to Jiuman 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 GENEROSI- 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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 afibrding 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 a feast ; and after several 
 other dishes had been removed, he or- 
 
 dered one, covered up, to be set before 
 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. 
 
 (d) THE GENEROUS HEIR.— 
 In the month of September, 1801, W. 
 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 satisfied." 
 
 (e) A RARE EXECUTOR.— About 
 the year 1772, a grocer, of the name of 
 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. 
 
 341 
 
185, 186 GOD, EXISTENCE OF— GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD. 
 
 185. GOD, EXISTENCE OF. 
 
 (a) GOD'S SPIRIT AND MAN'S 
 SPIRIT. — 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 Masbo- 
 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 
 t(» 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 
 JOINTS. — 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. 
 
 (a) FIRST GREENLAND CON- 
 VERT.— It is well known that the 
 Moravian missionaries in Greenland 
 342 
 
 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 crea- 
 
AS REVEALED IN JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 1S6 
 
 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 ? Tell me that once more : for 
 I would fain be saved too !" 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. 
 
 (h) 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, " What words were 
 those you read ? What sounds were 
 those I heard ? Let me hear those 
 words again !" Mr. Nott read again the 
 verse, " God so loved," etc., when the 
 native rose from his seat, and said, " Is 
 that true ? Can that be true ? 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 ?" 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 SWORE) OF THE 
 SPIRIT."— It is related of the Rev. 
 John Wesley, that he was once stopped 
 by a highwayman who demanded his 
 money. After he 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 he 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. Wesley 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 Word of God, and I hope I 
 am a Christian." 
 
 (d) THE THREE PREACHERS. 
 — 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, 
 " Well, and dost thou think we are ig. 
 norant of that ? 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." We answer- 
 ed him, " Fool that thou art, dost thou 
 think that we do not know that? Go. 
 343 
 
187 
 
 GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD. 
 
 and learn it first thyself, 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 ?" 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 : " 1 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 sins, 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.'^ 
 
 When he had finished his discourse, 
 he lay down upon a board in my hut, 
 fatigued by his journey, and fell into a 
 sound sleep. 1 thought within myself, 
 vi^hat 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 ? But he is uncon- 
 cerned. This cannot be a bad man ; 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 ; 
 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 I went, and interpreted 
 Christian Henry's words to the other In- 
 dians. Thus through the grace of God, 
 an awakening took place among us. I 
 tell you therefore, brethren, preach to 
 the heathen Christ, and his blood, and his 
 sufferings, and his death, if you would 
 344 
 
 have your words to gain entrance 
 among them — if you wish to confer a 
 blessing upon them. 
 
 187. As Seen in Pardoning the 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. Whitefield 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 f Now, my lady, did you ever 
 hear of such a thing since you were 
 born ?" 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 ; but as 
 Mr. Whitefield 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 I thought 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 what was right, 
 or otherwise, your ladyship shall judge 
 
AS SEEN IN PARDONING THE GUILTY. 
 
 187 
 
 from the following circumstance. Did 
 your ladyship notice, about half an hour 
 ago, a very modest single rap at the 
 door ? 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. 
 
 (b) 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 effusions 
 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 des- 
 tined moment arrived ; already had I 
 loaded, primed, and cocked ; when, 
 strange to relate ! though I had not read 
 a page in- the Bible for years, a reflec- 
 tion came suddenly across my mind ; 
 'Jesus of Nazareth,' said 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 sufficient 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. 
 When, awed by guilt and fear. 
 Thou durst not Heaven for mercy sue. 
 Nor hope for pity here ! 
 
 Dried are thy tears, thy griefs are fled, 
 
 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 
 
18T 
 
 GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD 
 
 ^ Vouchsafe me strength to do 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 !" 
 
 (c) WHITEFIELD'S BROTHER 
 CONVERTED.—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 : I see it clearly. 
 But, ah ! 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 ! glad at your heart that 
 I am a lost man ?" " 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, " 1 am 
 ver}^ 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 
 service was over, and inquire after him. 
 But his time was come. Soon after he 
 was brought into the house he expired. 
 
 (d) MR. FULLER'S SERMON.— 
 When the Rev. Andrew Fuller first vis- 
 ited Scotland, a notoriously wicked and 
 
 346 
 
 abandoned woman, seeing a number of 
 persons thronging the doors of a chapel, 
 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." " What then," she exclaimed 
 in her heart, " surely there is hope even 
 for me ! Wretch 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." 
 
 (e) " WHO CAN TELL ?"— " 1 
 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, Who 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 : Who can tell (Jo- 
 nah iii. 9,) viz., what God can do 
 when he will proclaim his grace glori- 
 ous ? Who can tell but such an one as 
 I may find mercy ? or what will be the 
 issue of humble prayer to heaven for it ? 
 Who can tell what purposes God will 
 serve in my recovery ? 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- 
 
GRATITUDE TO GOD. 
 
 18S 
 
 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 ; 
 
 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. 
 
 i Gratitude to God. 
 
 (a) REV. J. BROWN'S CONFES- 
 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 coffin, ' Here lies one of 
 the cares of Providence, who early 
 wanted both father and mother, and yet 
 never missed them.' " 
 
 (b) THE POOR FAMILY'S GRAT- 
 ITUDE. — 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." 
 
 (c) 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 Grod 
 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 husband'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 know I lost many years 
 ago. And then I had an old slouched 
 hat, a patched old coat, and mended 
 shoes and stockings ; but I have lost 
 them also long ago. And, Mary, 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 I had 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 
 
18§, 189 
 
 GRATITUDE 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 
 ' much 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 boon of grace on earth, and the 
 most authentic pledge of glory in the 
 world to come. 
 
 (d) 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 the land 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, 
 348 
 
 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. 
 
 (e) APT SAYING OF BOWDLER 
 — Sir W. W. Pepys, in a letter to Mrs. 
 Hannah More, 1825, says, " We are just 
 now reading in an evening a memoir 
 of Mr. John 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 PLANT 
 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 now plant for others, 
 that the memorial of my gratitude may 
 exist when I am dead and gone." 
 
 (h) GRATITUDE FOR GRATI- 
 TUDE. — A complete reverse having 
 taken place in a gentleman's circum- 
 stances, by his too great readiness to 
 
HAPPINESS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 189, 190 
 
 lend his money to those 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 ; 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- 
 tains. 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. When her 
 master died, he bequeathed this faithful 
 servant a comfortable maintenance. 
 
 (c) MR. CATHCART'S DIARY.— 
 Mr. Cathcart, of Drum, was in the prac- 
 tice of keeping a diary, which however 
 included one particular department. 
 
 seldom to be found in like cases. Mr. 
 Cathcart describes his plan and object 
 in the following words : — " A memorial 
 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 obligations, 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 ?" said 
 the restored man. " Why, massa, me 
 neber able to pay you ; because you 
 taught me to read de word of God !" 
 This reply so affected the man, that he 
 resolved, from that time, to seek the 
 Lord. 
 
 HAPPINESS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 190. In Perils and Dangers. 
 
 (a) CHRISTIAN CALMNESS.— 
 "Some impressions," says a young 
 man, who went out as a missionary to 
 
 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, I think, when I was about five 
 349 
 
190 
 
 HAPPINESS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 years of age. There happened one day 
 a very violent storm of thunder and 
 lightning 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 thunders when he please ; 
 
 That rides upon the stormy sky, 
 And manages the seas: 
 
 This awful God is ours ; 
 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 OF THE Loss OF 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 afler- 
 cabins on the upper deck, were engaged 
 in prayer and in reading the Scriptures 
 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 Redeemer 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, 
 350 
 
 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 coUectedness 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. 
 
 (c) 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 a little 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 Bible 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. 
 
IN ILLNESS— MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 
 
 191, 192 
 
 191. In Illness. 
 
 (a) APOSTOLICAL REPLY.—" I 
 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 V ' 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 
 prosperity !' " 
 
 (b) THE CABINET OF JEWELS. 
 — 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 staff 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. Miscellaneons Examples. 
 
 (a) ONE OF THE DAYS OF 
 HEAVEN.— 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 overflowing 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 !" 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. 
 
 (b) GLORIOUS VIEWS OF GOD. 
 — rThe 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. When 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 
 inefl^able glory. When able to reflect 
 
 351 
 
192 
 
 HAPPINESS. RELIGIOUS. 
 
 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 insufficient, 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 
 what 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 veiy 
 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 pau.sed, 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 
 352 
 
 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. 
 
 (d) 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 hut, 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 afliection, 
 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. 
 
 (e) THE FAMILY HERITAGE.— 
 The Rev. W. Thorpe, of Bristol, (Eng.) 
 was once preaching in London, from 
 Rom. viii. 28 : " We knovV 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- 
 ite text of my venerated father, who found 
 in it consolation and support in the course 
 
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. When, 
 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 salaiy 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 V 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." 
 
 (/) GLORYING IN TRIBULA- 
 TION. — Guy de Brez, a French mmis- 
 fer, 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 
 me, or break my sleep ; on the contrary, 
 23 
 
 I glory and take delight therein, es- I 
 teeming them at a higher rate than I 
 chains and rings of gold, or jewels of 
 any price whatever. The rattling of 
 my chains is like the effect of an instru- I 
 ment of music in my ears : not that 
 such an effect comes merely from my \ 
 chains, but it is because 1 am bound | 
 therewith for maintaining the truth of 
 the gospel." 
 
 (g) HOWARD IN TRIALS.— The 
 celebrated philanthropist, Howard, who 
 spent the best part of his life in travel- 
 ing over all the countries of Europe, — 
 " to plunge into the infection of hospi- 
 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 heres and theres^ 
 
 (h) 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. 
 
 (0 THE CRIPPLE AND HIS BL 
 BLE. — At a meeting of the Blackheath 
 Auxiliary Bible Society, in the year 
 1815, Dr. Gregory, of Woolwich, (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 afflicted. 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, flistened 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 
 
192 
 
 HAPPINESS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 / joints. As soon as I had recovered a 
 
 ' little from my surprise at seeing so piti- 
 able an object, I asked, " Are you left 
 alone, my friend, in this deplorable 
 
 I situation ?" " No, sir," replied he, in 
 a touchingly feeble tone of mild nesigna- 
 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, when 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 consolar 
 tion," and constantly behold, with equal- 
 ly vivid percGf 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 his pulpit on 
 the following Sabbath, and, under the 
 354 
 
 influence of chastened and holy feeling, 
 addressed his congregation from 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 
 afflicted saint fasted, prayed, and wept, 
 if peradventure his days mignt 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 ? 
 
 (k) 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 expect- 
 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.' " 
 
 (I) A SINGULAR BOND.— I have 
 read of a godly man, says Mr. Brooks, 
 who living near a philosopher often 
 
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 
 philosopher, will you be bound for 
 Christ, that if he doth not pay me, you 
 will ? 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. 
 
 (m) 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 exhibit 
 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. When 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 ! 
 
 (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 . W ith this 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 doer of the word cannot be 
 a forgetful hearer. 
 
 (c) THE DEAF WORSHIPER. 
 — " 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 because 1 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- 
 isfied 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 ! 
 
 (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 
 M^ aster 
 
 (e) FAULT-FINDING AND 
 PRAYING. — Tavo young men, who 
 were members of the same church in 
 New England, were one day engaged 
 in conversation respecting their minis- 
 ter ; when one asked the other, "Are 
 you interested in our pastor's preach- 
 ing?" "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 ; 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 
 
 ?" 
 
 No, I confess I do not." 
 
 " Well, 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 in 
 your closet supplications, and I 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 hia 
 petitions, and meanwhile his minister 
 had taken an equally large place in hia 
 aftections ; and if the minister derived 
 no benefit from his praying, he surely 
 derived great benefit from his preaching. 
 (/) DR. 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." 
 
 356 
 
HEAVEN, VIEWS AND FORETASTES OF. 
 
 194 
 
 194. HEAVEN, VIEWS AND FORETASTES OF. 
 
 (a) DYING SAYING OF PRES- 
 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 1 
 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." 
 
 (b) 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." 
 
 (c) 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 !" said he, 
 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." 
 
 (d) " I SHALL KNOW 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 n6 reply. Mr. Fox continu- 
 ed, " That it is immortal, I am con- 
 vinced. The existence of the Deity is 
 a proof that spirit exists ; why not, 
 
 therefore, the soul of man ? And if 
 such an essence as the soul exists, by 
 its nature it may exist for ever. I 
 should have believed in the immortality 
 j 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." 
 (/) 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 ?" 
 "Well," said the child, "I will go 
 with him." 
 
 357 
 
194 
 
 HEAVEN, VIEWS AND FORETASTES OF. 
 
 (g) WORDS OF REV. THOMAS 
 HALYBURTON.— "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 bo the day that I was 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." 
 
 (0 DYING WORDS OF MR. H. S. 
 GOLDING.— A little before his death, 
 when 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. REN WICK'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 ; 
 but even amidst the storms of these last 
 two 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." 
 
 (k) ADRIANUS AND THE MAR- 
 TYRS. — One Adrianus, in ancient 
 times, seeing the martyrs suffer such 
 grievous things in the cause of Christ, 
 asked, "What 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 ' net-work' of silver, for they made him 
 not only a convert but a martyr too. 
 
 (/) 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 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, though I can- 
 not explain it." 
 
 S58 
 
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC. 
 
 195 
 
 195. HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, IN CONVICTION AND 
 CONVERSION.* 
 
 (a) THE INFIDEL AND THE 
 FIRST CHAPTER OF JOHN.— 
 Francis Junius 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 
 progress I 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 
 Word," &c. 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. 
 
 (b) " 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- 
 
 * Scripture 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 
 those which would naturally produce such re- 
 sults. 
 
 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 !" 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 gay 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, " No, 1 would not go into such a 
 place if Christ himself was preaching." 
 Some weeks after, 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 his discourse. His attention was 
 359 
 
195 
 
 HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC 
 
 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 man 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 a life of virtue and holiness, ^e 
 afterwards declared openly his faith in 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, and his desire to 
 devote himself to his service. 
 
 (e) "WHAT HAST THOU 
 DONE FOR ME ?"— A clergyman in 
 Germany, who 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, hung 
 a picture of Christ on the cross, v/ith 
 two lines written under it : — 
 
 " I did this for thee ; 
 What hast thou done for me ?" 
 
 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 company, 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 entering his soul, — he 
 could do nothing but give himself up 
 entirely to the overpowering feeling: 
 even during the night, in his dreams, 
 the question stood always before his 
 mind, " What hast thou done for me ?" 
 He died in about three months after this 
 remarkable and happy change in his 
 temper and views, triumphing in the 
 360 
 
 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 ?" 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 V " Me tell the great Massa, 
 the Lord in Heaven, that my massa 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 Avords, 
 — " Lovest thou me ?" "Is there no 
 poor sinner," said he, " who can an- 
 swer this question ? not one poor slave 
 who dares to confess him ?" Here the 
 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 
 
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC. 
 
 «*«j/ 
 
 home convinced of the blessings the 
 gospel brings, and became a decided 
 Christian. 
 
 (g) THE DEAF MAN'S CON- 
 VERSION. — 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. 
 
 (h) 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 mcyiths 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 
 had 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 
 promises to God if he would spare 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 though 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. 
 
 (?:) THE BUTCHER AND HIS 
 WIFE.— 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 remarks 
 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 
 
19ft 
 
 HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC. 
 
 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 1 had forgotten 
 my sermon, and was led to speak upon 
 something else." 
 
 0) A DIFFICULT CASE.—" It is 
 unphilosophical," says a modem writer, 
 " to introduce divine agency when ade- 
 quate human means are in exercise." 
 Suppose we should, for argument's sake, 
 grant it ; 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 ? 
 
 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 ? Do men get excited upon 
 politics, poetry or philosophy in this 
 way ? How can any body be 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 ? 
 
 (k) " THE WIND BLOWETH, 
 &c." — It was on Sunday evening follow- 
 ing the old Thanksgiving in Mass., 
 
 » See 
 
 Lettera on Revivals." 
 362 
 
 (says a writor 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 winter, the humble 
 abode of a widow in Israel. I entered 
 and took my seat with some boys of my 
 own age ; 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. 1 had no disposi- 
 tion to do so, and wondered that they 
 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 have I 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 ; I could not 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 labored to quiet me, 
 thinking me unwell. 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 
 
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC. 
 
 195 
 
 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 1 well 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 ; 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 comhai 
 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, hall 
 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 acce]ptance with God was at 
 length obtained — a new song has been 
 put into my mouth." 
 
 {m) THE PERSECUTED SON.— 
 After his conversion. Dr. Tafl 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. 
 
 (n) INFIDEL CONVERTED BY 
 ONE WORD.— In 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. I know 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 ecclesiastic 
 363 
 
195, 196 
 
 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 havnig 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 difficulty 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. 
 
 (o) 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, 
 364 
 
 excepting as they were taught by the 
 Spirit. 
 
 ip) A SINGULAR REVIVAL.— 
 In the township of R., in the western 
 par . of New York, says a writer in the 
 Ch. Watchman, without any special 
 or known cause, numbers of individuals 
 were suddenly aroused to anxious in- 
 quiry and trembling respecting their 
 souls. Some in different 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 Grieved. 
 
 {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 lying at the point of 
 death. As he entered 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 
 
HOLY SPIRIT GRIEVED. 
 
 196 
 
 serious thoughts about her eternal wel- 
 fare. She was convinced then, that shfe 
 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 remonstrated — 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." 
 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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. And I 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 me 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. 
 
 (c) AWFUL PRAYER ANSWER- 
 ED. — " About twenty years ago," said 
 
 a dying man, in G , New- 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 tnat 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. No- 
 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, 
 , lappening to arrive very late in the even- 
 ing, 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, thafl 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, 
 on his return from his daily occupa- 
 366 
 
 tions, he had placed it, though not 
 without some difficulty 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 returned 
 home, without having been able to ascer- 
 tain who had lost it, when he was thus 
 introduced to the delighted owner. 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c) 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 a poor German wo- 
 man. A small cottage was her only 
 
EXAMPLES OF. 
 
 197 
 
 possession, 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 
 table. 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 ; " I know the place but too well : my 
 being here cost me once seven hun- 
 dred rubles." "How so?" "Why, 
 in one of these wretched hovels, I ono^ 
 left behind me a bag of rubles." " Was 
 the bag sealed ?" 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 too old to expect that : the 
 world is not quite so 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. 
 
 {d) 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, I will 
 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. 
 
 (e) THE HONEST HORSE 
 TRADERS.— Two aged men near 
 Marsh a;lton, 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 ?" 
 " 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 going to pay it. 
 
 (/) THE 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 at law 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 ?" " 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, &c., 
 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 
 
lo-y 
 
 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 Tobolsk 
 to Beresow. On the road 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 hut, 
 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." 
 
 (i) 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 
 368 
 
 as I can raise the money." After ma 
 turely thinking of the loss, he returned 
 by the same road, 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 cafe-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 cafe. 
 
 (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 flaw in the silk, and remarked, 
 'i 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 I'e- 
 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, " Jie will never make 
 a merchant." 
 
 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 i 
 a merchant ? 
 
 Merchant. — 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 th#y cannot discover 
 flaws, it will be foolishness in me to tell 
 them of their existence. 
 
 Father. — And is this all the fault ? 
 
HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 
 
 198 
 
 Merchant, — Yes : he is very well in 
 other respects. 
 
 Father. — Then I love my son better 
 than ever ; and I thank 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 
 WALLET. — 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. Being 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. 
 
 {h) 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, 1 served my apprenticesiiip 
 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." 
 
 (c) 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 
 24 
 
 in the morning he was detained till 
 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 the 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 !" 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 
 go. We 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. 
 
 {d) THE SWEEP AND THE 
 WATCH. — 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 if I take 
 369 
 
19§ 
 
 HONESTY. 
 
 it I shall be a thief. And yet," con- 
 tinued he, " no one sees me. No one ? 
 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 !" 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 ?" 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 pious and intelligent man. 
 
 (e) THE EARL AND THE FAR- 
 MER. — A farme;- called on the Earl 
 Fitz William, (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 
 lordship's consideration and kindness, 
 he had requested a friend to assist him in 
 estimating the damage, and they thought 
 that as the crop seemed quite destroyed, 
 370 
 
 £50 would not more than repay him. 
 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 cut 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 family — 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 poor 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, exclaiming at the 
 same time, " What a lodging has hon- 
 esty taken up with !" 
 
 {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 
 
HONORS, WORLDLY, VANITY OF. 
 
 199 
 
 to the county gaoL The prison was in 
 such a state that he 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 
 sheriff 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 gi%,nted 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 Jackson's singular demeanor, 
 and what had passed between them in 
 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- 
 shawe'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. We 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, 
 371 
 
11W 
 
 HONORS, WORLDLY, 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 cfGt any so sad ;" 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. 
 
 (b) EXPERIENCE OF WOTTON. 
 — Sir Henry Wotton, 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 m'ght en- 
 joy his beloved study and devotion. 
 
 (c) 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 Wimbledon. 
 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 ; and next 
 morning, according to Scottish custom, 
 resolved to pay his host an early visit in 
 
 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 1 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. 
 
 (d) THE 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!" (The Rev. 
 Dr. started.) ''Ay, it's just so," con- 
 tinued the other ; "for when I foonu 
 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 
 
 200 
 
 200. HOPE, POWER OF. 
 
 (a) THE SWEEP AND THE 
 CLERGYMAN.—" Passing down Hud- 
 son- street in New- 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 promjpted 
 me, as this chimney-sweep was now 
 passing, to address a few kind words. 
 After a salutation I said : ' My friend, 
 this must be a hard life that you live V 
 * 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 trust I 
 do love the Savior !' What 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 when I 
 told him who I was — a minister of 
 Christ and one of his own brethren — he 
 was full of joy. With 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 V " 
 
 (b) BISpOP BEVEPJDGE 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 acquainted visited him, and 
 when conducted 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 
 
 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 ?" said he. Being told 
 she was his wife, he said he did not 
 know her. " Well," said one of them, 
 " Bishop Beveridge, do you know the 
 Lord .Fesus Christ ?" " Jesus Christ !" 
 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 !" 
 
 (c) 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 evenin^r before his^ 
 death a neighboring minister visited him, 
 but he did not know him. Being told 
 who he was he answered : " No, 1 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 ? 
 
 (d) WITNESS 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, Avhich 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- 
 tical truth from all the demonstrations 
 of Euclid." 
 
 (e) THE AFFLICTED SUGAR. 
 BOILER. — 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 
 
 his skull. His feet were likewise af- 
 fected, and came otf. 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 
 liis 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 ', two 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 &,ffecting incident occur- 
 red, which gives a most pleasing view 
 of the negro female character. An old 
 woman, returning from the labors of the 
 field, cast on him a look of compassion, 
 and desired 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 
 astonishment on the white man, to re- 
 sume their tasks, which they continued 
 374 
 
 to ply through a great part of the night. 
 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. 
 
 {h) GETTING AN INVITATION. 
 
 — Rev. Mr. had travelled far to 
 
 preach to a congregation at . Af- 
 ter the sermon, he waited very patient- 
 ly, expecting some one of the brethren 
 
HOSPITALITY. 
 
 201 
 
 to invite him home to dinner. In this 
 he was disappointed. One and another 
 departed, until the house was ahnost 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 ?" 
 
 "About tv/enty miles from this, sir." 
 " No," 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." 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 We 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 loss 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 he 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 not 
 let you sleep ; but come in, come in ; 
 you will at least be sheltered from the 
 cold, and such as we have you shall be 
 welcome to." 
 
 The peasant then made the Czar enter 
 a little room full of children ; in a cradje 
 were two infants sleeping soundly ! 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, eggs, 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 sufficient 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 
 
 if 
 
201 
 
 HOSPITALITY. 
 
 so very small !" " 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 ! 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. 
 
 I^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 reigned in the cottage. '' What 
 a happy chasm ! What delightful tran- 
 quillity !" said the emperor ; "avarice 
 and ambition, suspicion and remorse, 
 never enter here. How sweet is the 
 sleep of innocence !" In such reflections 
 and on such a bed did the mighty em- 
 peror of the Russias spend the night ! 
 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 
 -inuch 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 
 376 
 
 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 peasant's 
 door. 
 
 The guards kept back the crowd, 
 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 1 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- 
 bom child shall become my ward ; for 
 you may remember," continued the 
 emperor, smiling, " that 1 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 
 
HUMANITY. 
 
 209 
 
 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 
 that he should be sent to him as soon 
 as he could be weaned. The Czar faith- 
 
 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. 
 
 HUMANITY. 
 
 201. Humanity Exemplified. 
 
 (a) CESAR AT PHARSALIA.— 
 Julius Csesar was not more eminent for 
 his valor in overcoming his enemies, 
 than for his humane efforts in reconcil- 
 ing and attaching them to his dominion. 
 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 whom he 
 had not yet pardoned, to return in peace 
 to Italy, to enjoy their estates and hon- 
 ors. It was a common saying of Csesar 
 that no music was so charming to his 
 ears, as the requests of his friends, and 
 the supplications of those in want of his 
 fl SSI st3.n f*p 
 
 (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." 
 
 (c) LOUIS XIV AND THE EN- 
 GLISH AMBASSADOR— After the 
 revocation of the famous edict of Nantz, 
 
 when the Protestants were persecuted 
 in every part of France, an English 
 Ambassador demanded 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 Newgate ?" " 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 
 brethren." 
 
 (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 ?^* 
 
 (e) HENRY IV AND THE 
 SIEGE.— When 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 
 
 377 
 
202, 203 
 
 HUMANITY. 
 
 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 drop of blood." 
 
 (/) 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 Frankford, 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 road. 
 About two hundred yards before I 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 
 ywmg 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 I never 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 child. He 
 said he was neither. "Well then," 
 said I, " you merit the gratitude of eve- 
 ry lather and mother in the world ; and 
 I will show you mine by giving you 
 what I have," puUmg out the nine or 
 ten dollars which I had in my pocket. 
 " No, I thank you, sir," said he ; " I have 
 378 
 
 only done what it was my duty to 
 do." 
 
 (g) LESSON TO CONQUERORS. 
 — When 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, 
 " We 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 again retired to 
 Normandy, until he was restored to his 
 throne without blood. 
 
 (A) 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 sufficient reason for relinquishing 
 the design, and that they might with a 
 safe conscience effect 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." 
 
 (i) 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 under the misfortunes of a rebellion, 
 none had lost their lives, except in the 
 first heat of the tumult. " I wish," 
 said 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." 
 
 201. linmanity Rewarded. 
 
 (a) HUMANE DRIVER RE- 
 WARDED. — A poor Macedonian sol- 
 
HUMANITY. 
 
 303 
 
 dier was one day leading before Alex- 
 ander a mule laden with gold for the 
 king's use ; 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." 
 
 (b) 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 Judea. 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. 
 
 (c) TRIUMPH OF METELLUS.— 
 When Nertobrigia was invested by Q. 
 Csecilius Metellus, the Roman pro- 
 consul, Rhetogenes, a chief lord of the 
 place, came out and surrendered 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 
 
 thus was a whole country recovered by 
 one humane act. 
 
 (d) MERCY BETTER THAN 
 SACRIFICE.— When the Romans had 
 ravaged the province of Azazene, and 
 seven thousand Persians were brought 
 prisoners to A mida, where they suffered 
 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 ; 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 conferred many favors 
 on the Christians. 
 
 (e) 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 min- 
 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 affected by 
 it, that, repenting of their disloyalty, 
 they soon afterwards yielded up the city 
 to him of their own accord. 
 379 
 
203, 204 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 (/) THE ARCHDUKE AND HIS 
 WOUNDED 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. When Gen- 
 eral Moreau, into whose hands the can- 
 non of course fell, heard of this benev- 
 olent trait, he ordered them to be 
 restored lo the Austrian army, observing 
 that he would take no cannon that were 
 abandoned from such humane motives. 
 
 ig) 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_i__ 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 composedly 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 hor- 
 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 it 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 Washington, 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 
 I 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 
 380 
 
 him to breakfast. Family prayer suc- 
 ceeding, the portion of Scripture for the 
 day was read to him. It was suggested 
 by " Bogatsky's Golden Treasury :" 
 •' By the grace of God, I am what I 
 am." It was the good man's custom. 
 
HUMILITY. 
 
 d04 
 
 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 
 \\ liat I ought to be ! Ah ! how imperfect 
 and deficient ! I am not what I wish to 
 be ! I abhor that which is evil, and I 
 would cleave to what is good ! I am 
 not what 1 hope to be ! Soon, soon, I 
 shall put off mortality, and with mortal- 
 ity all sin and . imperfection ! Yet, 
 though 1 am not what I ought to be, nor 
 what 1 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, 
 I am what I am !" Let us pray !" 
 
 (b) MATHER'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- 
 icnowledge. 
 
 (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, " When he is old enough, I will 
 teach him to name and thank his bene- 
 factor." " Stop," said the good man, 
 " Thou art mistaken. We do not 
 thank the clouds for rain. Teach him 
 to look higher, and thank him who 
 giveth both the clouds and the rain." 
 
 {d) 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 iew 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. 
 
 (e) 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." 
 
 (/) OVERLOOKING SELF.— 
 " On a visit to London," says the Rev. 
 .1. Campbell, in a letter to a minister, 
 " I was expressing a great desire to see 
 the late Mr. Charles of Bala, with 
 whom I had corresponded for 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. We 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 Wilmot 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." 
 
 (h) 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 had 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." 
 
 (z) " 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 , " Now 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 ; allow me to 
 render it, * Now 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. 
 
 (j) 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, 
 hut, 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 
 preacher 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- 
 382 
 
 yard. The farmer came forth to meet 
 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. 
 Weary 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 its 
 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 I have 
 
HUiMILITY. 
 
 204 
 
 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 perverse mind by an ex- 
 ample of meekness. The 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 ! 
 
 (k) TRUE MISSIONARY SPIRIT. 
 — The Rev. Dr. Morrison, of China, af- 
 ter having for some years labored at 
 Canton, earnestly requested the Direc- 
 tors 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 
 devotedness 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 and unpromising, 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 he 
 would be willing to engage in that ca- 
 pacity. " At the suggestion of my 
 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, he 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." 
 
 (/) " 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 re- 
 ligion .?" " None to speak of," was the 
 excellent reply. 
 
 (m) DR. CAREY'S HUMILITY.— 
 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 sermon 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 that 
 the following inscription and nothing 
 more be cut out on my grave-stone, viz. : 
 William Carey, b6rn August 17th, 1761 ; 
 
 DIED 
 
 " A wretched, poor and helpless worm, 
 On thy kind arms I fall." 
 383 
 
205 
 
 HYPOCRISY. 
 
 205. HYPOCRISY. 
 
 {a) THE HYPOCRITE'S END.— 
 
 The foliowing 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 remarks 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- 
 ject 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- 
 taining there weri^ no witnesses, she 
 addressed me in nearly these terms : 
 I am glad 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 dften felt the powers of the 
 world to come, and * my imagination 
 roved at large among things unseen ; I 
 have amused myself with these matters, 
 384 
 
 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 approbatiort ; 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 I was, 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 : " No, 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 that 
 N had expired in the night. 
 
IDLENESS. 
 
 305, 206 
 
 (b) HYPOCRITES INACCESSI- 
 BLE. — President Edwards remarks, as 
 the result of long and close observation, 
 that, of all sinners, unconverted profes- 
 sors of religion are the most hopeless. 
 In his account of the great New Eng- 
 land revival in which he labored very 
 
 extensively, he states that whilst such 
 immense multitudes, and a large pro- 
 portion of all ages and conditions in 
 life were powerfully wrought upon, and 
 driven to seek refuge from the wrath to 
 come, unconverted professors stood alone 
 unmoved. 
 
 206. IDLENESS. 
 
 (a) 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 t 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 Avho 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 
 condolence, "No, no, sir," said he, "do 
 not pity me ; for I assure you what I 
 25 
 
 now feel is ease compared with the tor- 
 ture of mind from which it relieves me." 
 
 (c) CLARENDON'S NEIGHBOR. 
 — " When I visited a country neighbor 
 of mine" (says Lord Clarendon) " in the 
 morning, I always found him in bed ; 
 and when I came 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 
 385 
 
206, 20Y 
 
 IDOLATRY, FOLLY OF. 
 
 industrious from the moment of his ap- 
 parent, and, I doubt not, real conver- 
 sion." 
 
 (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 
 to 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 Ijength arrived : he left his 
 
 solitary cell and repaired to the apart- 
 ment of the Abbot. " Father," says he, 
 "do not the brethren eat to-day?" 
 " Oh yes," replied the Abbot, " they 
 have eaten pleniifully." "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 spiritual 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,' 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 OF. 
 
 (a) A BECHUANA'S VIEW 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 ?" She said, 
 " They are not game ; there are na- 
 tions that worship these things." 
 " Oh !" 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 w ere 
 worshipped, for they have no name for 
 idols. He burst out into an exclama- 
 tion of wonder, questioned her again, 
 but 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 
 386 
 
 says so and so. Is it true ?" I said, 
 " 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^" " Yes," I replied, " they 
 have heads." " Have they got legs ?" 
 " Yes, they have legs." " Have they 
 got a pair of bellows to breathe 
 through ?" (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 diflicult 
 thing ? Can they speak in a public 
 meeting like our senators ?" On being 
 told that they could do all these things, 
 he said, " After this, never say that the 
 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 nod- 
 ding his head in a very solemn way, he 
 said, " What would my people think if 
 1 were to worship that?" Just at that 
 
IDOLATRY, FOLLY OF. 
 
 207 
 
 moment, while he was talking with 
 much animation, his staff dropped from 
 his hand. He grasped it, and pointing 
 to the picture, he held up his staff and 
 said, " This looks as well as this mon- 
 ster, and I might as well worship my 
 staff just as you worship Jehovah. 
 What would my people think if I were 
 to do so ? They would think I was a 
 madman, and would throw me over a 
 precipice, and cover me with stones." 
 
 {h) 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 i 
 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 i 
 period, when a mere boy, I was em- 1 
 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, etc.? 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 me 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 ARGUMENT.— 
 "Some Roman senators examined the 
 
 Jews in this manner : ' If God had no 
 delight in the worship of idols, why did 
 he not destroy them V The Jews made 
 answer, 'If men had worshipped only 
 things of which the world had had no 
 need,- he would have destroyed the ob- 
 jects of their worship ; but they also 
 worship the sun and moon, stars and 
 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 V ' Because,' replied 
 the Jews, ' this wc.uld strengthen the 
 hands of such as worship these neces- 
 sary things, who would say. Ye allow 
 now that these are gods, since they are 
 not destroyed.' " 
 
 id) SERVING GOD WORSE 
 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 ? 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 tft 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 off 
 to his own place, and then put a fence 
 around him, and keep him there till the 
 white ants eat him up. We would not 
 serve a thief as bad as this. There is 
 as much evidence to prove that Gauda- 
 ma was a monkey, as that he was a 
 I god." 
 
 387 
 
908 
 
 IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED. 
 
 208. IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED. 
 
 (a) THE PERJURER'S IMPRE- 
 CATION. — A man once waited on a 
 magistrate near Hitchin, in the county 
 of Hertford, (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 any thing, 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 
 pathetic manner, to beware of the 
 dreadful train of consequences attending 
 perjuiy. The man insisted upon mak- 
 ing oath to what he had advanced ; the 
 oath was accordingly administered, and 
 the business fully investigated, when the 
 innocence 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 
 meeting 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 might rot upon his 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 ! 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- 
 zine," in 1825, who was very much ad- 
 
 388 
 
 dieted to swearing, and attempts to con- 
 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." 7^he 
 wretched man had hardly uttered these 
 words, when the stone fell, and hurried 
 his unprepared soul into the presence of 
 his offended God. 
 
 (c) INSCJ^IPTION AT DEVIZES. 
 — The following inscription is to be seen 
 in the market-place 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, 
 ag^'eed 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." 
 
 (d) THE OPPOSER'S PRAYER. 
 — A candidate for the Christian ministry 
 was once invited to settle in New En- 
 gland. In giving the invitation, there 
 was a general union in the church and 
 
IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED. 
 
 30§ 
 
 society. A few, however, were opposed 
 to the settlement. Among the opposers, 
 one man was exceedingly bitter. This 
 person was open and explicit 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 
 candidate'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 
 hopeless. In this melancholy state he 
 continued till Wednesday morning, the 
 day of ordination, when, about two hours 
 before the commencement of the public 
 solemnities, according to his own desire, 
 he expired ! His case was so extra- 
 ordinary as to baffle 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.) 
 having lost a considerable sum by a 
 match at cock-fighting, to which prac- 
 tice he was notoriously addicted, swore 
 in the most horrid manner, 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 him if he ever 
 made another bet. It is not to be won- 
 dt^red 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 cocking at 
 Wolverhampton ; and he complied with 
 the temptation. When he came to the 
 
 place, he stood up, as in defiance of 
 Heaven, and cried, " I hold four to three 
 on such a cock." " Four what ?" said 
 one of his companions in inquity. 
 "Four shillings," replied he. "I'll 
 lay," 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- 
 rified 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. 
 
 (/) 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 cock-pit, 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 moan, 
 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." 
 
 fe) THE FATHER'S WISH.— 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 
 
909 
 
 INCONSISTENCY OF PROFESSED CHRISTIANS. 
 
 209. INCONSISTENCY OF PROFESSED CHRISTIANS. 
 
 {a) THE INDIAN'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 eve>r hanged 
 for stealing ; and yet they do not steal 
 halt so much. We 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- 
 withstanding 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 Christianitj, should pro- 
 duce such prejudices. * 
 
 (i) " 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." 
 " Poh !" said another, " it is all a farce." 
 Let ministers and others beware lest 
 their inconsistencies should lead any to 
 deride the religion they profess. 
 
 (c) AN ATHEIST QUIETING CON- 
 SCIENCE .-^An atheist being asked by 
 a professor of Christianity, " how he 
 could quiet his conscience in so desper- 
 390 
 
 ate a state ?" replied, " As much am I 
 astonished as yourself, that believing the 
 Christian religion to be true, you can qui- 
 et your conscience in living so much like 
 the world. Did I believe 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 ! 
 
 (d) UNIVERSALIST'S ARGU- 
 MEN T.— Said a Universalist to a Cal- 
 vinist, " Do you believe in eternal pun- 
 ishment ?" "Yes," said the Calvinist. 
 " No," said the other, " you do not be- 
 lieve any such thing. Why," contin- 
 ued the Universalist, " do you believe 
 
 that Mr. S. of believes in if? 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 ? 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 TWO MINISTERS.-^ 
 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 
 
INDUSTRY. 
 
 210 
 
 minister who was perhaps equally ac- 
 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- 
 
 I ter the state of her mind,) wrote a note 
 to a neighboring lady, most earnestly 
 ! soliciting her to come and pray for her 
 as a poor lost sinner. Christian fathers 
 ; and mothers ! beware you do not des- 
 I troy the confidence of your children in 
 i your piety by your inconsistency, so that 
 I when under conviction for sin, and de- 
 ' sirous of the prayers of others, they 
 I should, in like manner, pass you by. 
 
 210. INDUSTRY. 
 
 (a) CRESSIN'S DEFENCE.— Pli- 
 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 differenee 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- 
 hold, too, these implements o^ 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 neio;hh")rs. 
 
 (&) 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 cassock, 
 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." " I 
 took you for a gardener ; why are you 
 employed in this manner ?" 
 
 " 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. 
 
 When 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. 
 
 (c) "COME AND GO."— A gentle- 
 man in Surrey, (Eng.,) once held a farm 
 worth £200 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 21 years. After a while, 
 the farmer wanted to buy the land. 
 " How is this," said the gentleman, 
 391 
 
210—212 
 
 IMPULSES— INFIDELITY. 
 
 *' that I could not live upon the farm, 
 being my own, while you have paid 
 rent, and yet are able to purchase it?" 
 '• O," said the farmer, " two words 
 make all the difference : 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 
 B.ev. 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 p/eriodi- 
 cals, and besides spending considerable 
 time in social intercourse, preaching 
 
 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 translat- 
 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 influence of 
 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." 
 
 2n. IMPULSES. 
 
 (a) 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 neigh- 
 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 this 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 shah not steal," and 
 so got rid of an error which might have 
 led him out of the church into a jail. 
 
 INFIDELITY. 
 
 CAUSES OF INEIDELITY. 
 212. 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 
 392 
 
 been an infidel, but his mind 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 Poughkeepsie is his stopping-place 
 for rest and social chat. We young 
 
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY. 
 
 312 
 
 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 ? 
 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. 1 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 ? — Wilfully 
 blinding my own eyes, shall I laugh at 
 that, which, if true, will laugh me to 
 scorn in the day of judgment ? 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 
 Hamilton's declaration to me at Hen- 
 drickson's, and you may judge how I 
 feel since. As I have followed the Ge- 
 neral in many other respects, so would 
 I imitate him here." 
 
 (b) SIR ISAAC NEWTON AND 
 H ALLEY. — 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. When the celebrated Dr. 
 Edmund Halley 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. I have, 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 New 
 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 
 
213 
 
 INFIDELITY. 
 
 of the unfortunate Count Struensee, 
 prime minister of Denmark, under 
 Christian VII. whose downfall produced 
 the tragical revolution in the Danish 
 Cabinet of 1772. 
 
 This distinguished individual had 
 long been an avowed and zealous infi- 
 del, when hfe 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. 
 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 I dis- 
 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 
 I have 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." 
 
 m. Corruption of the Heart and life. 
 
 (a) THE WAY TO ATHEISM.— 
 
 I was, says a New England minister, 
 
 some time before my conversion, under 
 
 serious impressions on the subject of re- 
 
 394 
 
 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 tried to find a solid foun- 
 dation in Deism. But t 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. 
 I looked upon myself as possessed of 
 superior wisdom. Christians as simple- 
 tons> and religion as downright lolly and 
 superstition. 
 
 Here I thought I had found relief — 
 then no fear of God, man or devil dis- 
 turbed me. 
 
 I 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 inspired 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 pot 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, 
 
CURE OF INFIDELITY. 
 
 213,214 
 
 or never distinctly known before, that I 
 had deceived myself into it, and I be- 
 held the course which 1 had taken to 
 blind my own eyes. The self imposi- 
 tion and iiijluence 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 T had become 
 an infidel, (a process of which I was 
 previously unconscious,) 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. 
 
 (b) CAUSE OF INFIDELITY 
 AVOWED. — Mr. Wilberforce once 
 told the Rev. Wm. Jay that, some years 
 ago, passing through Dorchester during 
 Carlile'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 ? for if it be true, I am undone 
 forever !" " No," said the 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 tlFE, LOOSE CREED. 
 — It has often been a matter of wonder, 
 that the principles 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. It is 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. IJe, and one of his com- 
 panions of the same turn of mind, often 
 carried on their conversations in 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 i 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 !" 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." 
 " 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." 
 
 (d) THEY WISHED IT TO BE 
 SO. — Three young men who were ex- 
 ecuted in Edinburgh, in 1812, imme- 
 diately afler committing the robberies 
 for which they suffered, had gone to 
 Glasgow ; and one evening they heard 
 the family with whom they lodged, em- 
 ployed in the worship of God. This 
 struck their minds exceedingly, and 
 suggested the question, — Whether there 
 is a God, and a world to come ? 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. 
 
 214. Core 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 tivo instances fail of convic- 
 tion, and in these he did not know the 
 result for want of opportunity. 
 
 (b) OPPOSER TURNED APOL- 
 OGIST. — Athenagoras, a famous Athe- 
 nian philosopher in the second century, 
 not only doubted the truth of the Chris- 
 
 395 
 
214, 215 
 
 INFIDELITY. 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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- 
 ledged 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 tjie resurrection of 
 Christ, and Lord Littleton 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 
 truth 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 CHRISTIAN.— The following 
 is from the communication of an Ameri- 
 
 396 
 
 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 ? 
 
 21§. Moral Character and Influence 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, took an oppor- 
 tunity to rob him. Being apprehended, 
 and urged to give a reason for his mis- 
 conduct, he said, " Sir, I had heard you 
 
 i 
 
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- 
 flicts 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 ? You had re- 
 moved my greatest terror ; why should 
 I fear the less ?" 
 
 {b) INFIDELS AT THE LORD'S 
 SUPPER.— Collins, though he had n\ 
 belief in Cliristianity, yet qualified him 
 self for civil office by partaking of the 
 Lord's Supper; Shaftesbury did the 
 same ; and the same is done by hun- 
 dreds of infidels to this day. Yet thesi 
 are the men who are continually d( 
 claiming against the hypocrisy 
 priests ! 
 
 (c) DYING TESTIMONY OF A 
 SO CIALIST . — ^A town missionary, in 
 Bifmingbarn, 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. I got 
 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 — If we look at the writings and 
 conduct of the principal adversaries of 
 Christianity, we shall form no very fa- 
 vorable opinion of their system, as to its 
 moral effects. The morals of Roches- 
 ter and Wharton need no comment. 
 Woolston was a gross blasphemer. 
 Blount solicited his sister-in-law to mar- 
 ry him ; and, being refused, shot him- 
 
 self. Tindal was originally a Protest- 
 ant, then turned Papist, then Protestant 
 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 evident from 
 his numerous falsifications of Scripture, 
 as well as from the vile hypocrisy of 
 ^professing himself a Christian in thos3 
 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. 
 {e) 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 infidelity. 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 lec- 
 tures at the Hall of Science, and by de- 
 397 / 
 
315, 216 
 
 INFIDELITY. 
 
 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 t^e 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. 
 
 (/) AN INFIDEL FAMILY.— 
 " Mr. J. H.," says a writer in the 
 Christian Mirror, "was an inhabitant of 
 my native town, and with whom and his 
 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 ! 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- 
 tory 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 wife, and a large family of 
 little children, dependent on his labor 
 for their support. He removed to Bos- 
 ton, where he soon became a sot and 
 398 
 
 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 ! 
 
 The next son never married. He 
 was a drunkard, a gamblerand 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- 
 on the bank of the Onion river, into the 
 water and was drowned ! 
 
 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 by la- 
 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. What will be the end of the 
 youngest, who is now left in possession 
 of his father's property, time will deter- 
 
 INFIDELITY AT VARIANCE WITH THE 
 REASON AND CONSCIENCE OF ITS 
 VOTARIES. 
 
 216. Shown by their own Confessions of 
 the Moral Tendency of Infidel Doctrines. 
 
 (a) WHAT MADE HIM A MUR- 
 DERER ? — 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 the 
 writings of Paine, Carlile, and other 
 infidel authors, were taken in and en- 
 couraged. He emphatically added, " I 
 considered myself a moral young man, 
 attending, as I did, some place of Chris- 
 tian worship three times a day ; till un- 
 fortunately, I got connected with the 
 above, and other infidel associations." 
 
 (b) HliaiElS. TESTIMONY 
 
 "Disbelief in futurity," says Hume, 
 " loosens in a great measure the ties of 
 morality and may be supposed for that 
 
CONFESSIONS IN FAVOR OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 216, 217 
 
 reason to be pernicious to the peace of 
 civil society." 
 
 (c) 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, 1 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." 
 
 ( d ) VOLTAIRE'S CONFESSIONv 
 — One day that D'Alembert and Con-\ 
 dorcet were dining with Voltaire, they ^ 
 proposed to converse of atheism, but 
 Voltaire stopped them at once. " Wait," 
 said he, " till my servants have with- 
 drawn ; I do not wish to have my 
 throat cut to-night." y 
 
 217. Shown by their Confessions in favor 
 of Christianity. 
 
 (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 inhabitants. 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. 
 No 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 proposition. The old 
 man then took down a well-worn Bilple 
 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 f^as 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 skeptic 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, 21S 
 
 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 man 
 prayed. 
 
 (b) THE SUICIDE'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. Whether 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." 
 
 (c) MASON'S REPLY TO THE 
 SCOFFER.— To a young infidel who 
 was scoffing 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. 4 
 
 (d) BOWNOBROKE'S TESTI- 
 MONY. — 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 
 
 400 
 
 the Christian. The Gospel of Christ is 
 one continual lesson of the strictest 
 morality, of justice, benevolence, and 
 universal charity. Supposing Christian- 
 ity to be a human invention, it is the 
 most amiable, and successful invention, 
 that ever was imposed on mankind for 
 their good." 
 
 218. 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 ? 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-heartedness 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 offended by his 
 teaching ; and persecuted by the wick- 
 ed, whom he unmasked ; and he died 
 under the indignation of the blintl 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. 
 
 (b) CONFESSION OFvJRpUS- 
 .^^AU. — 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 of the Gospel hath its influence 
 on my heart. Peruse the works of our 
 philosophers, with all their pomp of dic- 
 tion, how mean, how contemptible are 
 they compared with Scripture ! Is it 
 
CONFESSIONS IN FAVOR OF CHRIST. 
 
 21§ 
 
 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 ? 
 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 
 witho*ut ostentation? 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. 
 What prepossession, what blindness 
 must it be, to compare the son of Som- 
 broniscus to the son of Mary ? What 
 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 ; Leonid as 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 
 26 
 
 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 his 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. Shallwe suppose the evangelic 
 history a mere fiction ? Indeed, my 
 friend, it bears not the niark of fiction; 
 on the contrary, the history of Socrates, ^ 
 wiiich 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. 
 
 (c) 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 ]\J 
 the moral character of Jesus Christ. He j 
 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. 
 401 I 
 
21l» 
 
 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. 
 
 219. Shown by Confessions of their Dis- 
 quietude 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 ! 
 
 (b) 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 afterward by 
 
 402 
 
 some sense of mental pain." " Yes," 
 said he, " but I have scarce ever owned 
 it until now. We" (meaning we infi- 
 dels and men of fashionable morals) 
 " do not tell you all that passes in oui 
 hearts !" 
 
 (c) 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 about 
 death, and seemed to cast off all 
 thoughts of it. Notwithstanding all his 
 high pretensions to learning and 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 ACKNOWL- 
 EDGMENT.— The example of a per- 
 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 beliei 
 and unbelief, he frankly confessed to 
 me " tJiat 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, 
 without horror, consider the whole world 
 as the empire of destruction ? It abounds 
 with wonders ; it also abounds with vie- 
 
ADVICE TO FRIENDS AND TREATMENT OF THEM. 
 
 220 
 
 tims. It is a vast field of carnage and 
 contagion. Every species is without 
 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 knows that he 
 must die. If he enjoys a transient 
 good, he suffers 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- 
 ing 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. I tremble 
 atthe-review of this dreadful picture, to 
 find it contains a complaint against 
 Providence itself: and I wish I had nev- 
 er been horn.^^ 
 
 2!0. 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, it can do you no 
 harm ; but if it should prove true, you 
 will be a great gainer." 
 
 This, reader, is a fact. It was the 
 united advice of a number of unbeliev- 
 ers to their dying friend. 
 
 {b) PAINE'S ADVICE TO A 
 TRAVELLER.— A writer in the Wes- 
 tern Observer, Bishop Mcllvaine, we 
 presume, says : 
 
 I have recently been in conversation 
 with a gentleman who personally knew 
 Tom Paine, from whom I have 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 Westchester 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 403 
 
331 
 
 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. 
 
 221. Shown by their 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 other pas- 
 sengers, was a professed atheist. This 
 unhappy man was very fond of troub- 
 ling every one- with his peculiar belief, 
 and of broaching 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 he ! 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 cler- 
 gyman, and found him in the cabin, 
 calm and collected, in the midst of dan- 
 404 
 
 ger, and thus addressed him : " Oh, 
 doctor Witherspoon ! 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 s^ang the same way." 
 
 {!)) VOLNEY IN A STORM.— 
 Samuel Forester Bancroft, Esq., ac- 
 companied Mr. Isaac Weld, 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 ; now 
 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 ofiered a large sum of 
 money to the captain, to prevail on him 
 to attempt what was utterly impossible, 
 namely, to put him ashore in a small 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 
 
CONDUCT IN DEATH. 
 
 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. Yolney— what ! 
 you have a God now ii^.^Ta which 
 Volney replied, with the most ti'embling 
 anxiely-r-i'-'Oy^l-Oyes !" 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 ? 
 
 (c) 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 boat, 
 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 West. 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 to throw out 
 
 ! their anchors, when the whole forward 
 I part of the boat broke off, and the 
 I 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 hooks to the bottom. 
 
 M. 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. He 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 v/as 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 indeed : the 
 405 
 
322 
 
 INFIDELITY. 
 
 Mareshal de Richelieu flies from the 
 bed-side, declaring it to be a sight too 
 terrible to be sustained : and Mr. Tron- 
 chin, that 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 will 
 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, "What'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 not pray." Wh^n two of his 
 406 
 
 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 imprecations. 
 
 As death drew near, he 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." 
 
 (c) GIBBON'S CONFESSION.— 
 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 HUME'S MO- 
 THER. — 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 effaced, 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 succeeded 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- 
 
CONDUCT IN DEATH. 
 
 223 
 
 tress ; that he had taken away that 
 only source of comfort upon which, in 
 all eases of affliction, she used lo 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 
 liim to hasten to her, or at least to send 
 her a letter, containing such consola- 
 tions as philosophy could afford tu 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. 
 
 (e) END OF NOTED FRENCH 
 INFIDELS.— 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 Walter 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. " Wretch ! were these the 
 means you promised to furnish ? " said 
 Payan to Henriot, 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. Henriot 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 
 perijSh 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 
 lay beneath the table brandishing a 
 knife, with which he repeatedly wounded 
 his bosom, without daring to £^dd 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. 
 
 (/) LAST DAYS OF THOMAS 
 PAINE, — 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. 
 
 was so bad, that she resolved imme- 
 diately to quit the house, but sensible 
 how necessary she was to his comfort, 
 he made concessions which induced her 
 to remain. Though his conversation 
 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, "OLord 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 alai-m 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 
 f do you call upon Jesus Christ to help 
 I you ? Do you believe that he can help 
 1 you ? Do you believe in the divinity 
 of Jesus Christ ?" 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- 
 I son, frankly told him that she thought it 
 the most dangerous book she had ever 
 I seen ; that the more she read the more 
 I she found her mind estranged from all 
 i good ; and that from a conviction of its 
 / evil tendency, she had burnt it without 
 I knowing to whom it belonged. To this 
 Paine replied, that he wished all its 
 . \ readers had been as wise as she ; and 
 {% ■ added, " If ever the devil had an accent 
 on earth, I have been one." Mrs. Bon- 
 408 
 
 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 princqjles he 
 has taught me will not bear me out.'' 
 
 {g) THE ELDER'S VISIT TO 
 PAINE. — The_iaU.owing facts, says a 
 correspondeiit of tlic- " New York Ob- 
 server," in 183-, wer^iately told me by 
 an elder in one of tlie Presbyterian 
 churches of this city, who visited Paine 
 a few days before his deafh. 
 
 Approaching his bed, my informant 
 saw a loMhsome Jarid Jitijil5]e^^ 
 His face and particularly his nose was 
 greatly swollen and changed by liquor 
 to a dark color. The visitor said to 
 him, " Mr. Paine, he that believeth on 
 the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved, 
 but he that believeth not shall he 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 nan^ 
 sense.'' The very name of Jesus Christ 
 convulsed him withaTT^er.- 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 tlmL^ was a 
 wretched man. That when lilone he 
 kept groaning day .and nightjas if in 
 great distress of mind. She once told 
 him that his groans disturbed her that 
 she could not rest, when he replied, " / 
 have no rest myself, nor shall you have." 
 
 (h) PAINE'S CONFESSION TO 
 RAND^LL.— The Rev. Jedediah 
 Randall, a most upright and excellent 
 minister of the gospel, formerly of Nor- 
 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 rouse all his vindictive passions 
 against the one who addressed him, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 233 
 
 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 
 obje6T'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." 
 
 m. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) DEISTICAL HISTORIANS. 
 — Gibbon, who, in his celebrated " His- 
 tory of the Decline and Fall of the Ro- 
 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) INFIDEL PROPHECIES.— 
 
 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 i 
 not be a Bible in America." What 
 would his spirit feel could it now enten 
 the depositories of the American Biblg 
 Society ? 
 
 (c) INFIDELS GOING MASKED. 
 — At an infidel convention, held in New 
 York, John A Collins, one of their 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 
 principles f Thus our cause is promoted 
 continually." 
 
 (d) LAST DAYS OF THE GOD- 
 DESS 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 Mericourt, 
 (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 
 
923, 224 
 
 INFLUENCE AFTER DEATH. 
 
 by the most heart-rending lamentations. 
 She died at the age of fifty-seven. 
 
 (e) 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, 
 w^ho 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 reach 
 of his influence. For the conversion 
 of these he determined to labor as 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 account 
 is not exaggerated : the old man is liv- 
 ing, and there are a thousand living 
 witnesses to this testimony." 
 
 INFLUENCE AFTER DEATH. 
 
 M, Influence Beneficial. 
 
 (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. Flavel'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, maranatha ? " The solem- 
 nity of this address deeply affected the 
 410 
 
 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 in his field, he busied himself in 
 reflecting on his past life. Recurring 
 to the events of his youth, his memory 
 fixed upon Mr. Flavel's discourse above 
 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, were brought fresh to 
 
INFLUENCE BENEFICIAL. 
 
 224 
 
 his mind. 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 followed 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- 
 gational 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." 
 
 (h) OBSCURE WOMAN'S USE- 
 FULNESS.— There was once an ob- 
 scure and pious woman living in a city 
 in the South of England. History is 
 silent respecting her ancestry — her 
 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 ofT 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 mother. 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 
 
 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 her son with 
 the poet Cowper, the evangelical 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 Wilberforce is traced by some. For 
 during fourteen years after he first saw 
 W., and until his conversion, he made 
 411 
 
224 
 
 INFLUENCE AFTER DEATH. 
 
 W. the constant subject of his prayers. 
 And with what glorious results was the 
 conversion of Wilberforce fraught to 
 the interests of man ! What vast con- 
 tributions did he make with his princely 
 fortune to objects of benevolence ! To 
 his influence, in a great degree, may 
 we impute the abolition of the African 
 Slave Trade, 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, Wilberforce 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 the 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 ? The Mother of the 
 Rev. John Newton. 
 
 (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 
 T 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. 
 (d) THE SICK MAN'S PRAY- 
 ERS. — A pious man in the western 
 part of New York was sick with a con- 
 sumption. He was a poor man, and 
 412 
 
 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, I visited the place, and his widow 
 put 'into my hands his diary. Among 
 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, " 1 
 have been enabled to offer what I call 
 the prayer of faith, for the outpouring 
 
 of the Spirit on church, and I trust 
 
 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 — they 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 under 
 
INFLUENCE INJURIOUS. 
 
 225 
 
 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 '^o, 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." 
 
 m. Influence Injurious. 
 
 (a) THE VILLAGE CURSED.— 
 There is a beautiful village in New 
 England from which Whitefield 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. 
 
 (b) HYPOCRITICAL DEFENCE 
 OF PROTESTANTISM.— 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- 
 tons 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 
 
 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 inhabitant, 
 has continued Roman Catholic for ihe 
 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'Aubigne, " 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- 
 formartion, 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 ! The 
 day of his recantation was a dark day 
 for France. The great conflict then 
 413 
 
325 
 
 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 had 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 ? 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 those de- 
 plorable apostacies to which the friend- 
 ship of the world so often led in another 
 age of French history," 
 
 (d) 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 Ian- 
 guage, misleading men's minds, and 
 corrupting their hearts. 
 
 (e) INFLUENCE OF HOMER'S 
 ILIAD. — A most pernicious influence 
 is exerted by those writers who array 
 in false and glowing colors the wick- 
 ed actions of real or imaginary persons. 
 It was the perusal of Homer's Iliad, 
 which celebrates in such moving strains 
 the deeds of bloody and brutal heroes, 
 that helped to make Alexander the 
 wholesale robber and murderer 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 edition 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 rashness, 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 Caesar, 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 ? Such have 
 been some of the ruinous results, (what- 
 ever the good results may be) of Ho- 
 mer's writings on mankind since his 
 death ; results which the infinite mind 
 can best compute. 
 
 414 
 
INGRATITUDE. 
 
 336 
 
 226. INGRATITUDE. 
 
 (a) THE WIDOW AND HER 
 TWO SONS.— In Birmingham, Eng- 
 land, 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 a small 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. 
 The 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. 
 
 (b) 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 girdle, 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- 
 cordingly. 
 
 (c) THE UNGRATEFUL 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 require. 
 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 completely recovered, and 
 
 415 
 
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 
 offices had been thus horribly repaid ; 
 and having seized the soldier, caused 
 these words to be branded on his fore- 
 
 head, The Ungrateful 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 VIEW OF 
 INGRATITUDE.— At a dinner party 
 at Bath, the Rev. Mr. Jay, by whom 
 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 instancies 
 of ingratitude, to show us our motives ; 
 for if they have been right, we shall 
 not repent of our doing, though we \u 
 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 
 416 
 
 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, persuaded 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." 
 
INTEGRITY. 
 
 227, 228 
 
 (b) THE SOUDRAH'S REASON- 
 ING. — " I am by birth," said a con- 
 verted Hindoo, when addressing a num- 
 ber of his countrymen, "of an insigni- 
 ficant and contemptible 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- 
 ing any of the praise to me ; and God, 
 as is his due, has all the glory." 
 
 (c) 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 custo- 
 mary 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 opinion 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 in what manner I 
 lead my life." 
 
 (b) 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 had I 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 ?" " Very right. 
 What have I for dinner to-day ?" 
 " Don't you know, sir, that you made 
 me lay up the blade-bone to broil?" 
 417 
 
228 
 
 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 
 purpose ; I am not one." 
 
 (c) THE FIRM JURYMAN— 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 which was to be reserved 
 for another mode of operation. He 
 therefore calmly told them it should 
 now be a trial who could endure 
 confinement 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. " What is your price ?" 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 studiously 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 judgment." 
 
 (e) CATHARINE II AND 
 COUNT MUNICH.— When Catharine 
 418 
 
 the Second ascended the throne of Rus- 
 sia, she solicited Count Munich to ac- 
 cept some marks of her favor, although 
 she knew he had been the most formi- 
 dable opponent to her accession. " No," 
 said the count, " I am an old man ; I 
 have already sufl^ered many misfor- 
 tunes ; and if I purchased a few years 
 of life by compromising my principles, 
 I should make but a bad exchange." 
 
 (/) BONNELL'S INTEGRITY. 
 — James 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. When 
 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- 
 PER. — Soon after his establishment in 
 Philadelphia, Franklin was oflTered 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. " Why, sir," 
 replied Franklin, " I am sorry to say I 
 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 I would put it to this 
 issue, — at night, when my work was 
 done, I bought a two-penny loaf, on 
 which I supped heartily, and then wrap- 
 ping myself in my great coat, slept 
 very soundly on the floor till morning ; 
 when another loaf and mug of water 
 afforded a pleasant breakfast. Now 
 sir, since I can live very comfortablj 
 
WAY TO INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 22§, 329 
 
 in this manner, v/hy should I prostitute 
 my press to personal hatred or party 
 passion for a more luxurious living V 
 
 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 ijour Majesty is 
 a half-penny a peck at Athens, and water 
 I get for nothing /" 
 
 (h) ANCIEiNT HERNHUTTER.* 
 — In 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 
 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 bar- 
 ley : " This is the very thing we want," 
 said the captain. " Have patience for 
 a few minutes," replied the - guide ; 
 "you shall bo satisfied." They went 
 on, and at the distance of about a quar- 
 ter of a league further, they arrived at 
 another field of barley. The troop im- 
 mediately dismounted, cut down the 
 grain, trussed it up, and re-mounted. 
 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." 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 229. AVay to Intemperanee. 
 
 {a) MODERATE DRINKERS BE- 
 WARE. — A respectable man, but a mo- 
 derate drinker, living in ihe town of 
 Hadlyme, Conn., was urged by the State 
 Temperance Agent some months since 
 to join the temperance society. He said, 
 " I am my own master, and can take care 
 of myself. I don'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 where 
 made about trampling upon individual 
 rights, and invading the liberties of men. 
 The rumselling professor joined them, 
 and thought 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 !" 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. 
 
 (&) THE STUDENT'S FALL.— 
 
 The parents of Henry H had placed 
 
 him in the university of G— , and 
 419 
 
329 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 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 proffered glass. 
 At length, by the persuasions of one of 
 his dearest friends, he took the first glass, 
 and finding that his spirits became more 
 buoyant, 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 
 hi^kind friends, and in one short night 
 the toil of years had been swept away ! 
 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 fill- 
 ed a drunkarcVs grave ! 
 
 (c) 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 ?" with pious horror, exclaim- 
 ' ed the lady ; " I the author of your in- 
 420 
 
 temperance !" " 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 1 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. 
 
 {d) "THAT FIRST GLASS."— 
 So said a drunkard, after he had waked 
 up from a three weeks' " spree," whicti 
 had been preceded by several months of 
 total abstinence, which gave hope to his 
 friends that lie 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?" " O ! it was that 
 first glass. When 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 ruin- 
 ed this man ? 
 
 {e) TWO OLD MEN'S POSTERI- 
 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 
 temperately 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 
 
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 Jona- 
 dab, he drinks pure water. 
 
 What 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 ! 
 
 EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE. 
 210. Slavery of Appetite. 
 
 (a) THE DRUNKARD'S THRAL- 
 DOM. — The writer of the pamphlet 
 entitled The Confessions of a Drunkard 
 says, '' Of my condition there is no hope 
 that 1 should ever change ; the waters 
 have gone over me ; but out of the 
 black depths could I be heard, 1 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 : — 
 could he see my fevered eye, feverish 
 with the last ni2:ht'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." 
 
 (h) THE GENERAL'S CONFES- 
 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," with him on the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 The General replied — " Please to 
 hear what I have 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 prop- 
 er attention. I am sensible that my 
 amiable family will be involved hi 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- 
 pravity — 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. 
 
 2ii. Intellectual and Moral Degradation. 
 
 (a) THE WELSHMAN AND HIS 
 GOAT. — A Welshman 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. What particularly 
 struck the Welshman was, that from 
 that time, though the creature would 
 follow him to the door, he never could 
 get 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. 
 
 (b) 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. Honest folks had 
 long been in bed, and the houses were 
 
 421 
 
231 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 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 v/ere 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 enjoy- 
 ing 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 ?" 
 
 (c). 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 
 amove. He seized a language almost 
 by intuhion, 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- 
 lege to read disserta.ions in the chapel 
 upon abstruse and difficult subjects, he 
 was accustomed to read them from 
 422 
 
 blank papers, pouring forth spontaneous, 
 bursts of argument that thrilled while 
 they convinced, and charmed while they 
 persuaded. With Eudid, 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 de- 
 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 ! 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 wjiich 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 uj)on burst of 
 eloquence and argument followed. Geo. 
 
EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 231 
 
 W. Briggs, the member of Congress 
 from Massachusetts, seeing his splendid 
 portrait hanging in a conspicuous place 
 at Washington, 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 flitiguing 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 tiie 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 HEIRS.— 
 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 lara;e 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- 
 nance 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 
 
 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 of luxury and idle- 
 ness, but the grand cause of the whole 
 has been Intemperance. " She has cast 
 down many wounded, yea, many strong 
 men have been slain by her. Her house 
 is the way to hell, going down to the 
 chambers of deaih.'^ — Proverbs 7 : 20, 
 27. 
 
 (e) THE RUINED PREACHER.— 
 vV 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- 
 quor. I am, indeed, just as miserable as 
 a creature can be on 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. 
 
 (/) A CLASSMATE'S FATE.— 
 When I commenced a course of study, 
 says a writer in the Pastor's Journal, 
 W. 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 highest 
 hopes. He was a youth of uncommon 
 423 
 
332, 333 
 
 INTEMPERAT^CE. 
 
 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 im- 
 provement — enough of this world's goods 
 to carry him through an extensive 
 course of study, aand 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. 
 
 %U. 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, 
 and 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 a cause, and killed him, at 
 one blow, with a rake. I did not know 
 424 
 
 any thing about it until the next mor- 
 ning, 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. 
 Whisky 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! 
 NEVER ! ! touch any tiling that can 
 intoxicate .'" As he pronounced these 
 words, he sprang from the box and was 
 launched into an awful eternity. 
 
 [h) 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, 1 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 m 
 our own country at the present time. 
 
 211. Domestic and Social Wretcliedness. 
 
 (a) 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 in 
 drinking, while flushed with wine, in 
 an unguarded moment made use of ex- 
 pressions at which one of this social 
 party o^ friends took exceptions, an al- 
 tercation ensued, and the offended party 
 gave a peremptory challenge to the 
 young man above alluded to. Accord- 
 ing 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 situation — 
 duty would have prompted him not to 
 
EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 233 
 
 have gone to what is miscalled the 
 " field of honor," but a morbid state of 
 public opinion prompted him to meet his 
 challenger, who was a practised duel- 
 ist : 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 centred 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. 
 
 (&) DEATH OF MRS. S.— Mrs. 
 
 S 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 T ever 
 sing or dance without one or two glasses 
 of wine to give me a spring?" Time 
 rolled on, when the inquiry began "to be 
 made, What is the matter with the 
 beautiful Mrs. S ? 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, 
 
 especially in the afternoon of a Sunday, 
 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- 
 ed 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 j ust 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 
 
334 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 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. 
 
 M. Fatal Accidents, Untimely and Awful 
 Deaths. 
 
 (a) SPONTANEOUS COMBUS- 
 TION.— Dr. Peter Schofield, of Upper 
 Canada, gives the following case ; a ler- 
 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 thon, 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- 
 tmguished. 
 
 There was no fire in the shop, neither 
 was there any possibility of fire having 
 b(^en 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 neart and 
 maintained the vital spark to the thir- 
 teenth day, when he died ; not only the 
 most loathsome, ill-featured and dread- 
 fiil picture that was ever presented to 
 human view, but his shrieks, his cries 
 426 
 
 and lamentations were enough to reno 
 a heart of adamant. He complained of 
 no pain of body ; his flesh was gone. 
 He said he was suffering the torments 
 of hell ; that he was just 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. 
 
 (h) 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 j 
 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 I 
 to shorten sail, but the ship was then | 
 within a cable's length of the shore, and i 
 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 
 lost !" as the vessel, lashed on by the 
 tempast, 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 mos< hor- 
 ribie. Tne 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 i 
 rolling over the wreck for a moment i 
 
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 intoxicated, and 
 could not manage the vessel. 
 
 (c) 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 remnant of 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 ? No 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. 
 
 2?§. The Intemperate Reformed. 
 
 (a) PERSEVERANCE REWARD- 
 ED. — A little girl, about eight years old, 
 once took a temperance paper, at a tern- 
 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 scho- 
 lars to sign it. When 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 Tem- 
 perance 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 ?" " 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 faltier'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 melted. 
 His bosom heaved — his bloated, haggard 
 cheek was wet with the tears of contri- 
 tion — he pressed his Mary to his heart, 
 and said, " I will sign it ;" and at once 
 affixed his name to the constitution and 
 pledge. 
 
 {h) 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 ot 
 his negro boys, who were mimicking 
 himself in his drunken fits ; showing how 
 he reeled and staggered ; how he looked 
 and nodded, and hickuped and tumbled. 
 j 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 wite and children. 
 
 (c) 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 — ;iabbering 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 !" 
 said he, "is this a picture of myself? 
 Do the brutes rebuke me ?" 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. 
 
 B 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 ^^s 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 Co- 
 lonel 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 !" 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 | 
 428 
 
 every one who has acquired or is acqui- 
 ring a similar habit, go and do likewise, 
 (e) REFORMATION OF WM. 
 WIRT.— The distinguished William 
 Wirt, within six or eight months af\er 
 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 i 
 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. Wirt 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 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 236 
 
 to name, was passing that way to her 
 home, not far off, and beheld him with his 
 face upturned to the rays of the scorch- 
 ing sun. She took her handkerchief, 
 with her own name marked upon it, 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 was on it. 
 After pausing a few minutes, he ex- 
 claimed — "Great God! who lefl 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 
 Wirt, " 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 
 temple of fame, while his deeds, his 
 patriotism 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 relation of La Fayette. 
 
 216. 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 drunkards. 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." 
 (b) MR. BISHOP'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. 
 I stood 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, and I 
 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 an 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 flaying, (fee, were occasioned by ef- 
 forts to wake me up. 
 
 I am sometimes asked whether the 
 illusions of the delirium tremens are not 
 429 
 
d37 
 
 JEWS. 
 
 always distressing. They are not. At 
 one time I had about five hours of per- 
 feet 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 I was brought to death's 
 door. For 18 days I endured the utmost 
 horror of mind. Three times my case 
 was given over as hopeless." 
 
 (c) GOOD REASON FOR SO- 
 BRIETY. — 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?" "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 
 I have." 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. JEWS. 
 
 (a) THE RABBI'S 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. 
 
 (h) A QUESTION FOR JEWS.— 
 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 of God, 
 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 worshiped 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 pro- 
 mise 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 Savior of the world." 
 
 (c) THE RABBI'S 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 bom in 
 Bethlehem, and, for aught we know, 
 
JEWS. 
 
 237 
 
 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 1650, 
 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." 
 
 (d) 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 the pur- 
 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- 
 lumns. The Jew, little as he valued 
 this book, was prevailed on to giiie the 
 student half a rix-doUar for it. During 
 the 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 !" 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 rathered 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 
 
 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 evidence of being 
 a consistent Christian. 
 
 (e) THE TRANSLATOR CON- 
 VERTED.— When 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 translator 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. Thome Christians. But behold 
 the providence of God ! the translator 
 became a convert to Christianity; 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. 
 
 (/) DEATH-BED OF THE JEW. 
 — In his interesting work, " Judah and 
 Israel," Mr. Frey, a converted Jew, and 
 who for more than forty years has la- 
 bored among this people as a minister of 
 the gospel, says : " For seven long 
 years, while officiating 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 CONFES- 
 SION. — 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 
 
238 
 
 JUDGMENT DAY. 
 
 238. JUDGMENT DAY. 
 
 (a) THE DARK DAY AND THE 
 LEGISLATOR— The 19th of May, 
 1780, was remarkably dark in Connec- 
 ticut. Candles were lighted in many 
 houses ; the birds were silent, and dis- 
 appeared ; and 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." 
 
 (b) CHILD'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. I felt 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 language 
 which struck me with mingled shame 
 and hope, said, ' Well, what sayest : 
 thou V 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.' 
 With a smile, which tranquilized my 
 spirit!) the Lord replied, J Go, 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 Janeway'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 in- 
 stant, I should hear such thunderings, 
 and see such lightnings as Israel did at 
 Mount Sinai, I am persuaded my very 
 heart would leap for joy. But this I am 
 confident of, through infinite 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. 
 
 339 
 
 239. JUSTICE AND EQUITY. 
 
 (a) SOCRATES AND CHERI- 
 CLES. — 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 ?" "Far from it,"" added he ; 
 " 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 
 by 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 
 of Themistocles ; but that, at the same 
 
 28 
 
 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. 
 (c)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- 
 fied, 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 ffell out in one of his 
 circuits, which was somewhat censured 
 as an affectation 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 hi3 
 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 
 433 
 
2S9 
 
 JUSTICE AND EQUITY. 
 
 nothing to him which he did not do to 
 every judge that had gone that circuit," 
 which was confirmed by several gentle- 
 men then present ; but all would not do, 
 for the lord chief baron 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 loaves in his circuit, 
 he made his servants pay for the sugar 
 before he would try their cause. 
 
 (d ) 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 ^Eschylus was 
 once represented before the Athenians, 
 in which it was said of one of the charac- 
 ters, " that he cared not more to he 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 tmjust 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. 
 " What name ?" asked the philosopher. 
 " Aristides," replied the stranger. " Do 
 you kr^w him, then," said Aristides, 
 "or, has he in any way injured you?" 
 " Neither," said the other ; " but it is 
 for this very thing I would he were con- 
 demned. I can go nowhere but I hear 
 of Aristides the Just." Aristides in- 
 quired no further, but took the shell and 
 wrote his name in it as desired. 
 
 434 
 
 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 affairs 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 sufl[icient 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 RESIGNATION.— 
 The integrity of this great man was 
 eminently displayed on several occa- 
 sions ; but the following evfent, 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 
 
JUSTICE AND EQUITY. 
 
 239 
 
 replied, " I know it very well, that I 
 might have done so ; and that was the 
 very reason why I 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 AND 
 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." 
 
 [h) 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 
 
 of Mr. ." " 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 !" cries the monarch, 
 and throws the pardon into the fi]:e. " I 
 will now, sire, take them again," said 
 the chancellor ; " the fire, you know, 
 purifies every thing." 
 
 (i) 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 Spanish merchant, who 
 
 supplied the wine, sent his nephew to 
 receive the debt. To conceal his fraud, 
 young Fitz-Stephen conceived the plan 
 of murdering the Spaniard ; a project, 
 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 ! 
 
 (j) FITZJAMES AND HIS 
 SOVEREIGN.— It is said of Sfr 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." 
 
 (k) 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 he commenced proceedings 
 435 
 
339 
 
 JUSTICE AND EQUITY. 
 
 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 difficulties that had become in- 
 surmountable, wrote to the then king of 
 Prussia, reminding him of the refusal 
 experienced by Frederick the Great at 
 the heftids of his ancestor, and stating 
 that, if his majesty now entertained a 
 similar desire to obtain possession of tl\e 
 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 
 aflTectionate 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 ?" He replied, " From yourself 
 sleeping to yourself waking ;" and had 
 
 the judgment reversed that was against 
 him. 
 
 (m) PARDON REFUSED TO 
 ROYAL BLOOD.— When a prince 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." 
 
TUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 
 
 240 
 
 240. JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 
 
 (a) HERVEY'S RECANTATION. 
 
 — " If it be shameful to renounce er- 
 ror," says Mr. Hervey, " and sacrifice 
 all to truth, I do very willingly take this 
 shame to myself, in a copy of verses 
 which I formerly wrote, sacred to the 
 memory of a generous benefactor. 1 
 remember the following lines : 
 
 "Our wants relieved by thy indulgent care 
 Shall give thee courage at the dreadful bar, 
 And stud the crown thou shall 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? 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." 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 wrought 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 : 
 " O, 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." 
 
 (c) A GLORIOUS POSITION.— 
 Mr. Lyford, a Puritan divine, 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 Md on him, shall 
 never be charged on me." 
 
 437 
 
241 
 
 KINDNESS, CONJUGAL. 
 
 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 ; 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 any thing, 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." 
 
 (b) 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 
 supper, shi would be all submission and 
 
 438 
 
 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 ?" 
 " 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 lefl a deep im- 
 pression on the husband's mind. " Do 
 you, my dear," said he, " really think 
 
KINDNESS, CONJUGAL. 
 
 241 
 
 I should be eternally miserable ? I 
 thank you for the warnmg. 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, 
 
 (c) A REFORMED WIFE.— A 
 man once came to tlie 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 Clirist 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 time 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 therefore 
 came to Mr. Scott with a coiTitenance 
 bespeaking a considerable degree of 
 confidence, which led Mr. Scott, at first, 
 to hope that his fonner advice had 
 proved successful ; but he was soon 
 informed 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 ! 
 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 some 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 his wife, who then stood 
 smiling with approbation by his side, 
 was not only become a converted wo- 
 man, through a blessing on his kind 
 439 
 
241, 242 
 
 KINDNESS, 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 with a smile.'' 
 The woman thanked me, dropped a cur- 
 lesy, 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 I was 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. 
 
 (a) 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 wo 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 himsel f as strange 
 a spectacle as any whom he visited. De- 
 prived of the use of his lowe? extremi- 
 ties, and compelled to be borne on the 
 arms of others, he appeared, says Pinel, 
 a fraction of humanity implanted on 
 another's body ; and from out of this 
 deformity, pronounced in a feeble and 
 feminine voice, merciless sentences pro- 
 ceeded, sentences of death ; for death 
 was the only logic that then prevailed. 
 440 
 
 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 ?" 
 "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 likest ; 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 
 
KINDNESS, POWER OF. 
 
 242 
 
 ^ith long sleeves, which could be tied 
 behind the back of the maniacj, should 
 it become necessary to restrict 1 lim 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?" "I promise thee. 
 But thou mockest me ; they, as well as 
 thyself, are too much afraid of me." 
 ^' Assuredly not. I have no fear ; for I 
 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 !" Through the whole day he ran 
 about, ascending and descending the 
 stairs, and constantly repeating the ex- 
 
 clamation, " How beautiful ! how good !" 
 In the evening he returned to his cell, 
 slept tranquilly on a better bed, which 
 had been provided for him ; 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. While in 
 the army, he had but one fault — drunk- 
 enness ; 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 Chevinge 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 
 
342 
 
 KINDNESS, POWER OF. 
 
 like 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 
 best years of his life, and who would 
 doubtless have spent the remainder of 
 his existence in the same wretched con- 
 dition, became afterwards a model of 
 good conduct and gratitude. Often, in 
 the difficult 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. 
 
 (b) BUNDY AND THE FERO- 
 CIOUS PRISONER.— The power of 
 kindness is seen in the case of Haynes, 
 executed in 1799 at Bristol, Eng. Pie 
 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. 
 It became necessary even to call out the 
 442 
 
 military ; but this only irritated him, 
 and made him worse. He would' ex- 
 pose h:is naked breast to the soldiers' 
 bayone ts, dare them to run him through, 
 and sa; f he would rather be shot dead 
 than SI irrender himself to them. Yet^i 
 when force failed, remonstrance suc^ 
 ceeded ; for he actually delivered up* to 
 the pel 'suasions of a gentleman, a wea- 
 pon wl lich a file of soldiers were unabl& 
 to take from him. A pious minister by 
 the name of Bundy, used to visit hinv 
 and at length told the keeper he wished 
 to spend the night with the felon. Pie 
 was wiimed 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 nighty 
 locking: after him three massive doors ; 
 and Hatynes, immediately lifting up his; 
 liberated hand, and reaching a clasped 
 knife h s had concealed, rushed fiercely 
 towards; him, exclaiming with the voice 
 and looks of a demon, " Now thou art in 
 my povTer, 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 ?" 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 ? 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. 
 
 (c) 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- 
 
KINDNESS, POWER OF. 
 
 243 
 
 suasion 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 
 ihat 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 Friend'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 what 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. " I meant it for thy 
 good, Cain, and I am sorry I did thee 
 any harm." 
 
 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. 
 
 {d) 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 I shoilld 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, and I 
 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 sul ky, 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; the 
 man, preser\'^ed a gloomy silence. He 
 was told it was now necessary for him 
 to be locked in the solitary cell, and 
 desired to f :)llow the warden, who went 
 first, carrying a lamp in one hand, and 
 a key in the other. In the narrowest 
 part of thej passage, Mr. Pillsbury, a 
 small, light man, turned round, and 
 looked in the face of the stout criminal. 
 " Now," said he, " 1 ask whether you 
 have treated me as I deserve ? I have 
 done every thing I could to make yoti 
 happy ; I have trusted you ; but you 
 have never given me the least confi- 
 dence in return, and have even plarmed 
 to get me into difficulty. Is this kind t 
 And yet I cannot bear to lock yau 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 jom 
 treat me like a man." " Come, fet ua 
 go back," 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 BACKUS 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 ci rcumstance was made 
 known to the cro tvd, they rushed to the 
 well, and among them was the parida- 
 rum (priest) of the temple, who, as soon; 
 as he had gratifieid his curiosity, return- 
 ed to the tempi e. None among them 
 manifested the L jast concern for the un- 
 fortunate man who was sunk in the 
 water. They 1 ooked into the well, and 
 talked about the; man in such imminent 
 danger with th d most perfect indiffer- 
 ence. Not an individual seemed to 
 think assistanf^e could or ought to be 
 rendered, till 'Dne of the headmen came 
 443 
 
942 
 
 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 coofusfon 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 V 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- 
 |>osed 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 
 444 
 
 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 thee 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 tongue 
 breaketh the bone." If the doctor had 
 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 
 NATURE.— 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 I thought I would not 
 shoot him." 
 
 (h) 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- 
 
LABOR, DIGNITY OF. 
 
 243 
 
 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- 
 
 teered with his oxen and rendered the 
 necessary assistance. The churl felt 
 ashamed of himself. His evil was 
 overcome by his neighbor's good, and 
 he never afterwards refused him a 
 favor. 
 
 243. LABOR, DIGNITY OF. 
 
 (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- 
 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 exhaling odors uni- 
 versally throughout the 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 I cannot sufficiently 
 admire." Cyrus replied, " It was I 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- 
 
 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, since 
 you unite it with virtue." 
 
 (b) LACEDiEMONIANS' SEA- 
 SONING. — 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 affiiirsof 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 a blacksmith's assist- 
 ant. When 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 
 
943, 244 
 
 LAWSUITS AND LAWYERS. 
 
 kopecks, or an altina," answered Mai- 
 ler. " Very well," replied the Czar ; 
 " I have then earned eighteen altinas." 
 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 
 wrought better than any other man ; 
 give me what you would give to aiioth- 
 er ; I want to buy a pair of shoes, of 
 which 1 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 hims(?lf 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) WASHINGTON AND THE 
 CORPORAL. — During the American 
 Revolution, it is said, the commander of 
 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 !" " You 
 are — are you ?" replied the officer, " I 
 was not aware of that ;" and taking off 
 
 his hat and bowing, "I ask your* par- 
 don, Mr. Corporal." Upon this he dis- 
 mounted, and lifted till the sweat stood' 
 in drops on his forehead. And when 
 finished, turning to the command(?r, he 
 said, "Mr. Corporal, when you have 
 another such job, and have not men 
 enough, send for your Commancfer-in- 
 Chief, and I will come and help you a. 
 second time." The corporal was thun- 
 derstruck ! It was Washington. 
 
 (e) CARTER'S REPLY TO THE: 
 TANNER.— The Rev. J. Carter,, one- 
 of the puritan ministers, once cams 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 shoulder ; 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." " What I"' 
 said the good man, " doing thus ?" — 
 "Yes," said Mr. C, "faithfully 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.— Manual 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. Th& 
 learned professor replied, that he was in 
 want of a job himself, and he would saw- 
 it for him. 
 
 244. LAWSUITS AND LAWYERS. 
 
 (a) 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 
 446 
 
 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?" 
 
LAW SUITS AND LAWYERS. 
 
 244 
 
 "I endeavor to prevent lawsuits, and 
 <;oncilisite the parties; I act ici such a 
 manner that no traces of differ ence re- 
 main CO the archives ; if I am wrong, 
 your indulgence will excuse mo." "I 
 wish," j-eplied the Czar, " that all gov- 
 ernors >vould act on your principles. 
 Go on, God and your sovereign are 
 equally .satisfied." 
 
 (b) GOOD ADVICE OF TWISS. 
 — Mr. Philip Henry relates a remarka- 
 :ible stor^^ concerning a good old friend 
 of his, TK ho, when young, being an or- 
 phan, wa.s greatly wronged by his uncle. 
 His portion, which was 06200, was put 
 into the h ands of that uncle ; who, when 
 lie grew up, shuffled with him, and 
 •would give him but £40, instead of his 
 je200, aR(i he had no way of recovering 
 Ms right but by law. But, before he 
 "Would enj^age in that, he was willing to 
 advise wi th his minister, who was the 
 ■famous D r. Twiss, of Newberry. The 
 counsel he gave him, all things consid- 
 ered, was 5, for peace' sake, and for the 
 preventiag 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 up to thee and thine 
 some othe r way, and they that defraud 
 will be th( 3 losers by it at last." He did 
 so, and at pleased God so to bless that 
 little whi ch he began the world with, 
 that whesi he died in a good old age, he 
 left his so n possessed of some hundreds 
 a year, w hilst he that had wronged him 
 fell into poverty. 
 
 (c) TH E MAGISTRATE'S EXPE- 
 T)IENT.- -A magistrate of Paris estab- 
 lished a poor-box in his office; and 
 when he happened to accomplish the 
 pleasantes t part of his duty, that of pre- 
 venting lit igation, he invited the parties 
 whom he ; reconciled, to seal that recon- 
 ciliation w ith an alms. In a single year, 
 thia worth y functionary collected more 
 thun 1400 francs. This ingenious means 
 of bene€c( 3nce was truly honorable to 
 the invento r. 
 
 (d) TEIE UNSETTLED LAW- 
 CASE. — 1 ^wo neighbors, who were 
 brothers b; y marriagcj had a difficulty 
 respecting their partition fence. Al- 
 though the y had mutually erected a 
 aubstantiai 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 trouble, 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 um- 
 pire has never been called upon to pro- 
 nounce final judgment in the case ; so 
 the law case remains unsettled to this 
 day. 
 
 (e) 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- 
 quent. 
 
 (/) ERSKINE'S OPINION.— 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 
 
344, 245 
 
 LEGACIES. 
 
 gated by him, after recommending the 
 Qoctor " 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." 
 
 {g) THE LITIGANT'S GRATI- 
 FICATION.— 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." 
 
 Qi) 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 affixed, 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." 
 
 \i) MATTHEW HALE IN DIS. 
 GUISE. — The younger of two broth- 
 ers had e ndeavored 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 brother' ^ 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. 
 — That 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." 
 
 {h) THE LOST LEGACY.— We 
 knew a worthy clergyman, says a wri- 
 ter in the New- York Evangelist, who 
 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 
 448 
 
 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 ;he 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 
 he given the money when he hr.d 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 
 bond, had it been perfectly salfe. 
 
 This incident will serve to illustratei 
 
LICENTIOUSNESS. 
 
 215, 246 
 
 the importance of doing at once what- 
 ever we design for the promotion of the 
 gospel. 
 
 (c) THE PRODIGAL REFORMED 
 — Admiral Williams, when a young 
 man, was gay, and so addicted to ex- 
 pensive pleasures, that no remonstrances 
 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 
 supposed the omission was a mark of 
 his father's resentment against him. At 
 
 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- 
 came an honor to the Christian pro- 
 fession. 
 
 246. LICENTIOUSNESS. 
 
 {a) 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 sis- 
 ter, " if you refuse the attentions of all 
 licentious men, you will have none, I 
 can assure you." " Very well," said 
 her friend, " then I can dispense with 
 them altogether — for my resolution on 
 this point is unalterably fixed." How 
 long would it take to revolutionize socie- 
 ty, were all young ladies to adopt this 
 resolution ? 
 
 (h) 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, perhaps, 
 there was hardly ever a better, gave 
 him great opportunities of indulging 
 himself in these excesses ; and his good 
 spirits enabled him to pursue his plea- 
 sures of every kind in so alert and 
 sprightly a manner, that multitudes en- 
 vied him, and called him, by a dreadful 
 kind of compliment, " The happy rake." 
 Yet still the checks of conscience, and 
 some remaining principles of an excel- 
 lent education, would break in upon his 
 most licentious hours ; and I particu- 
 larly remember he told me, that when 
 29 
 
 some of his dissolute companions were 
 once congratulating him on his distin- 
 guished felicity, a dog happening at that 
 time to come into the room, he could 
 not forbear groaning inwardly, and say- 
 ing to himself, " Oh that I were that 
 dog!" 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 af- 
 fect to call liberty. 
 
 (c) HIGHWAY TO SUICIDE.— 
 The Rev. John Owen, the eloquent ad- 
 vocate of the Bible Society, after advert- 
 ing, in a sermon to the young, to the 
 peaceful death of a little girl, mentions 
 the awful end of a youth who had been 
 seduced from the paths of virtue by wick- 
 ed 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 deposit of 
 his own life. This deluded youth had 
 received the benefit of a Christian edu- 
 cation in one of our schools of gratuitous 
 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 unhap- 
 pily is to too many of our youth, the 
 signal for renouncing his attendance 
 449 
 
247 
 
 LOVE, BROTHERLY. 
 
 upon the ordinances of religion. The 
 consequence was such as might natural- 
 ly be apprehended. He fell into the 
 snare of evil company, and became li- 
 centious, profligate, and abandoned. Dis- 
 eased, disgraced, despondent, without 
 any cordial from religious hope, any 
 support in Christian resignation, he yield- 
 ed to the temptation of the destroyer, 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 mangled by 
 his own violence ; and weltering, 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 convulsed' 
 with horror and disgust — but that you 
 may learn the solemn truth which every 
 part of this catastrophe proclaims, " 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." 
 
 (b) INTIMACY WITH THE 
 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 
 hunible 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 unaflTected 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, 
 meanwhile, how dim were his prospects 
 of rising, in the future world, to an 
 equality with the pious poor, if his 
 
 450 
 
 Christian friend was in danger of fall- 
 ing below them. 
 
 (c) 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 him 
 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. What 
 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 might also 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 striking instance of the brotherly 
 love of the early Christians, transpired 
 in the great plague that raged in Alex- 
 andria, during the reign of Gallienus. 
 
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 
 Dionysius 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 them. Many died after 
 their care had restored others to health. 
 Many who took the bodies of their 
 Christian brethren into hands and 
 bosoms, and closed their eyes, and 
 buried them with every mark of atten- 
 tion, soon followed them in death." 
 
 (e) CYPRIAN AND THE CAP- 
 TIVES.— The early Christians were 
 remarkable for their brotherly love. 
 When a multitude of Christian men and 
 women in Numidia, 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 demanded for their ran- 
 som, they sent deputies to the church 
 that was planted in the metropolis of' 
 North Africa. No sooner had Cyprian, 
 who was at the head of it, heard a state- 
 ment 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 
 $4000. 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. We must 
 see Christ in our captive brethren, and 
 redeem him from captivity who redeem- 
 ed us from death." 
 
 (/) THE CONVERT'S DISAP- 
 POINTMENT.— A young lady in 
 Rhode 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 these 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 object 
 of skepticism, and at last she even call- 
 ed in question 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 ! 
 
 Oh ! how should such a 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) WHITFIELD'S OPINION OF 
 WESLEY. — A minister, very liberal 
 in his reflections on Mr. Wesley and 
 451 
 
S4§ 
 
 LOVE TO CHRIST. 
 
 his followers, being once in company 
 with Mr. Whitfield, expressed his doubt 
 to him concerning Mr. Wesley's salva- 
 tion, and said, " Sir, do you think when 
 we get to heaven, we shall see Mr. 
 
 Wesley?" "No, sir," replied Mr. 
 Whitfield, " 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." 
 
 248. LOVE TO CHRIST. 
 
 (a) 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. 
 When 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 1 
 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 ?" 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 profession. 
 
 (h) THE HAPPY HINDOO.—The 
 452 
 
 Rev. Eustace Carey, from India, relates 
 a pleasing anecdote of a native Christian 
 whom he was called to visit. Inquiring 
 as to the s';ate of her mind, she replied, 
 " Happy ! happy ! 1 have 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 ! to 
 whatever part of the universe she might 
 be removed, the Lord of the universe 
 was with her, and she was secure of 
 his favor. " Whom have I in heaven 
 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 portion 
 for ever. 
 
 (c) " SHALL WE KNOW EACH 
 OTHER IN HEAVEN.— An old mi- 
 nister, 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 ?" Without hesitation, he re- 
 plied, " To be sure we shall ; do you 
 think we shall be greater fools there 
 than we are here ?" 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 1 arrive there, will be my 
 dear Savior ; and I cannot tell when I 
 shall be for a moment induced to look 
 at any other object." 
 
 {d) 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 oflfered herself foi 
 baptism. After the usual examination, 
 I inquired whether she could give up 
 
LOVE TO CHRIST, ASSURANCE OF. 
 
 24S, 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." 
 
 (/) 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. Just 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, " None but Christ f 
 None but Christ/^' He was at last 
 bent down into the fire and expired. 
 
 249. Love to Christ, Assurance of. 
 
 (a) NAMACQUA GIRL'S LOVE. 
 — I 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. When 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 answer me for weeping, and 
 at length fainted 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. 
 
 (J) "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 Savior 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 !" Happy indeed are 
 those who, by the grace of our Lord' 
 Jesus Christ, can thus speak ! 
 
 (c) "EFFECTUAL CALLING." 
 — 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 ?" and having explained it, he pro- 
 posed that the question should be an- 
 swered by changing the words us 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 
 453 
 
349, 250 
 
 LOVE TO SOULS. 
 
 catechised, and to liis 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 
 DOUBTING.— Dea. H. of Southing- 
 
 ton, Ct., one day said to a friend, " I 
 have scarcely seen an hour for the past 
 nine years, since I professed religion, in 
 which I have not been able to say in 
 holy confidence with Peter, " Lord, 
 thou knowest all things, thou knowest 
 that I love thee !" 
 
 250. LOVE TO SOULS. 
 
 (a) THE COLPORTEUR'S SUF- 
 FERINGS.— 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. 
 
 " Though I have sunk in the bogs, 
 and have extricated 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 ; yet these trials of hunger, thirst, 
 and exposure are of little account, if I 
 can but win souls to Christ." 
 
 (h) 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 
 454 
 
 one who entered in by that awful gate 
 was ever allowed to come out again. 
 Within this abode of misery, there was 
 multitudes of lepers in all stages of the 
 disease. Dr. Hal beck, 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- 
 houso as their field of labor. They en. 
 tered it never to come out again ; ana 
 it was said that as soon as these should 
 die, other Moravians were quite ready to 
 fill their place. " Ah ! my dear friends," 
 adds the late Rev. Robert M'CheynCj 
 '• may we not blush, and bo ashamea 
 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-consuming love 
 to Jesus and the souls of men ?" 
 
 (c) THE TWO MINERS.— At a 
 meeting of the Wesleyan Missionary 
 Society, the Rev. R. Young, of Truroj 
 mentioned a very remarkable fact tha 
 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 
 
LOVE TO SOULS. 
 
 350 
 
 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 two, and the explosion must 
 take place. At this awful crisis, one 
 of the men, addressing the other, said, 
 " You shall live, and 1 will die ; for you 
 are an impenitent sinner, and if you now 
 die your soul will be lost ; but if I 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 noto- 
 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. Underbill, 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. While the people, and 
 : some ministers, were pursued by the 
 i rabble, a gentleman called out fiercely 
 I to the rioters, pointing to Mr. Under- 
 I hill, " There is one of the methodist 
 I dogs ; take notice of him ; do your work 
 1 well, and I will give you a barrel of 
 j ale at the end of it." Two of the min- 
 I isters narrowly escaped with their lives. 
 i Mr. Underbill and a brother minister were 
 j dragged to a public house ; the latter re- 
 ceived such a violent blow with a poker 
 I 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, " No 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- 
 fiiced any recollection of his features. 
 Mr. Underbill 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 repaid by the salvation 
 of one soul. 
 
 (e) TEARS PREVAILING.— 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 counte- 
 455 
 
250 
 
 LOVE TO SOULS. 
 
 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 your affectionate and pious fa- 
 ther, but I wept for you : it was the fear 
 that you, my beloved child, would be 
 for ever 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. 
 (/) EXPERIENCE OF ED- 
 WARDS.— In the life of the Rev. Jona- 
 than Edwards, which is prefixed to his 
 History of Redemption, we find the fol- 
 lowing paragraphs selected from the 
 narrative 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. 1 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 
 favorable aspect on the interest of 
 
 Christ'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." 
 
 {g) 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 1 am born an 
 age too soon." " But," said Mr. Ham- 
 lin, "do you remember what our Sa- 
 vior said, ' There shall be joy in the 
 presence of the angels of God over one 
 sinner that repenteth V 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 ovei 
 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 slow 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 is born, nor when he 
 dies." 
 
 456 
 
LUXURY— LYING. 
 
 351, 252 
 
 251. LUXURY. 
 
 (a) SUCCESSFUL REPROOF.— 
 The Rev. Mr. S , an eminent di- 
 vine of the church of England, happen- 
 ed to dine with several other clergymen, 
 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 repeated- 
 ly afterwards dined in the same house, 
 he never once had occasion to repeat 
 his remark. 
 
 (b) CRCESUS' ADVICE TO CY- 
 RUS. — When Cyrus received intelli- 
 gence that the Lydians had revolted 
 from him, he told CrcBsus, with a good 
 deal of emotion, that he had almost de- 
 termined to make them all slaves. Crce- 
 Bus 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 with 
 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 advice 
 was followed, and the result proved how 
 politic it was. While the advice is 
 such as no good man could consistently 
 follow, the incident shows the deteriora- 
 ting influence of luxury in a very strik- 
 ing light. 
 
 (c) 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. LYING. 
 
 {a) LYING TO CHILDREN.— 
 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 four 
 
 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 by 
 her, and she soon dropped off." Mr. 
 Hall, who overheard this, said, " Ex- 
 cuse me, madam : do you wtsh your 
 child to grow up a liar ?" " Oh dear, 
 no, sir ; I should be shocked at such a 
 thing." "Then bear with me while I 
 457 
 
352 
 
 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 for- 
 gotten. 
 
 (h) SUFFERING DEATH WHILE 
 FEIGNING 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 way-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." When the archbishop ar- 
 rived at the spot, the wicked 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 ! Immediately he began to exclaim 
 aloud, " Oh ! sir, he is dead ! Oh ! sir, 
 he is dead !" On this, the archbishop, 
 discovering the fraud, left the man with 
 this important reflection : " It is a dan- 
 gerous thing to trifle with the judgments 
 of God !" 
 
 (c) 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 company ? 
 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, if it 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 ! 
 
 458 
 
 (d) TWO APPEALS.— When De- 
 
 nades the orator addressed himself to 
 the Athenians, " I call all the gods and 
 goddesses to witness," said he, " tlic 
 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- 
 TION.— 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 
 betraying 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 
 feeling, inquired into the occasion of hei 
 perturbation. The lady, who felt the 
 cause of her vexation in all its magni- 
 tude, instantly returned the following 
 reply : " Why, 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 !" 
 
 (/) THE LIAR TAKEN AT HIS 
 
 WORD.— J 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 
 
LYING. 
 
 352 
 
 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 kill- 
 ed 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- 
 ceived 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 
 moment, 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 state. 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 wick- 
 ed fabrication, was made, by the mys- 
 terious 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 !" 
 
 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 blasphemous ex- 
 pressions, even to the very letter. .] — 
 VV — 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 a fam- 
 ily who possessed a burial-place in Child- 
 wall churchyard. Some of his fellow 
 workmen proposed his interment at Wal- 
 ton, a village three miles north of Liver- 
 pool : but others, on account of the near- 
 ness of Childwall, urged his burial there ; 
 and in 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. 
 
 (h) NEED OF WATCHING.— 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." " Well, 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." 
 
 (i) LYING, BLASPHEMING, AND 
 DYING. — A poor woman in the work- 
 house at Milborne 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, 
 and dead, if she knew any thing of 
 it. About six o'clock she ate her sup- 
 
 per as well as usual — soon after, her 
 speech faltered, her eyes closed, and 
 before seven she was a breathless corpse, 
 without any apparent cause. 
 
 253. MARRIAGE. 
 
 (a) PHILIP HENRY'S ADVICE. 
 — The Rev. Philip Henrj- 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, "1 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." 
 
 (b) MARRYING UNBELIEVERS. 
 — 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 Jesus, forming marriages 
 contrary to the command, — " 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 
 
 460 
 
 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 
 Savior 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 message 
 from God, by whom it was no doubt 
 sent. 
 
 (c) 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- 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 253 
 
 able-looking elderly woman had come in- 
 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 ?" She pursued 
 the inquiry with fervent prayer for Di- 
 vine direction, and came to the conclu- 
 sion candidly to state to her lover the 
 
 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 
 opportunity of 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 who 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 !" 
 
 (d) THE DELUSIVE HOPE.— 
 If there fs no relation in life so eminent- 
 ly calculated to promote the happiness 
 of man as a union of " kindred minds," 
 in the matrimonial state ; there is, on 
 the other hand, no condition so full of 
 461 
 
253 
 
 MARRIAGE, 
 
 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- 
 ings 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 
 profligate, aed I trust 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 Aerse/f 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 unbelievers ; 
 for what fellowship hath righteousness 
 with unrighteousness, and what commu- 
 nion hath light with darkness ?" 
 
 (e) THE RESULTS OF A MAR- 
 RIAGE. — The following significant ac- 
 count is condensed from a more detailed 
 462 
 
 statement in one of the publications of 
 the American Tract Society. Mr. R. 
 A., of Maryland, with whom the writer 
 was well acquainted, became 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 hea- 
 ven alone. His wife pursued him to 
 the closet, and at last succeeded in driv- 
 ing him to abandon every religious duty. 
 And now that ^e 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 
 he 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 refiised to be prayed with, insist- 
 ing that his doom was already sealed. 
 Just before his departure, after he had 
 
MEEKNESS. 
 
 353, 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 
 lace, his eyes flashing with terror, he 
 cried out, " Rebecca, Rebecca, you are 
 the cause of my eternal damnation." 
 He turned over, and with an awful 
 groan left the world. 
 
 (/) A WISE DECISION.— Eliza 
 Amberi', a young Parisian 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 THEMISTOCLES. 
 — An Athenian who was hesitating whe- 
 ther to give his daughter in marriage to 
 a man of worth with a small fortune, or 
 to a rich man who had no other recom- 
 mendation, went to consult Themistocles 
 on the subject. " I would bestow my 
 daughter," said Themistocles, " upon a 
 man without money rather than upon 
 money without a man." 
 
 254. MEEKNESS. 
 
 (a) DEERING ENDURING IN- 
 SULT. — 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. Mr. Deering con- 
 tinued unmoved, still showing his zeal 
 for the glory of God, by bearing 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." 
 
 (l) 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 turned 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, 
 "Where did you learn that?" 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 
 
954, 255 
 
 MEMORY AND PIETY. 
 
 This good woman enjoyed her privileges 
 undisturbed, and also had the pleasure, 
 a short time afterwards, of having her 
 husband to accompany her. 
 
 (c) 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 if I 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. 
 
 (d) MEEKNESS OF M. HENRY. 
 — It is well known, that many of the 
 most eminent ministers of Christ, during 
 the seventeenth century, were the sub- 
 jects 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 ad- 
 vancement in Christian virtue. " How 
 pleasant is it," he would say, " to have 
 the bird in the bosom sing sweetly." 
 
 (e) MEEKNESS OF 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 HINDOO.— 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 .lesus 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 explained 
 the leading truths of Christianity, the 
 substance of which was, that all men 
 every where ought to worship that God 
 who 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 I deem 
 Christianity to be superior to Hindooism ; 
 but, in candor, I must say, that the tem- 
 per of these Christians is superior to 
 that of us Hindoos. Gentlemen," the- 
 brahmin said, turning to the missionaries, 
 " your temper is boro prarthoneco ;" 
 that is, greatly to be prayed for. " We 
 took our leave," say the missionaries, 
 " convinced that the cause of Christiani- 
 ty had that day risen in the opinion of 
 some influential inhabitants of Chinsu- 
 rah." 
 
 255. MEMORY AND PIET\. 
 
 (a) PRACTICAL MEMORY.— 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 
 464 
 
 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 
 
MERIT OF GOOD WORKS. 
 
 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, 1 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 ?" " Sir, my poor mind is like this 
 sieve ; the sieve doesn't hold the water, 
 but 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." 
 
 (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- 
 got two things, — 1st, That he was a 
 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 Wednesday, after dinner, I asked 
 
 Mrs. C what I had 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." 
 
 256. MERIT OF GOOD WORKS. 
 
 (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, 
 became 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- 
 30 
 
 tion as the subject of the foregoing 
 sketch ? 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. 
 
 (h) 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 ?" Mr. 
 Latrobe paused for a moment, and said, 
 " Pray, my lord, what may your estate 
 be worth a year V' " 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 ?" 
 (c) 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 
 
356 
 
 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 riches 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 ! 
 
 (d) 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 1 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 ? 
 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 he inclined | 
 to loose sentiments, there resided a i 
 ploughman, who usually attended the 
 ministry of Dr. Doddridge, and was well ! 
 466 
 
 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, 
 " What 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 instance 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 James 
 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 terminate 
 in death. But my mind is still the 
 same, that it is through the merits of 
 Christ I am to be saved." 
 
MERIT OF GOOD WORKS. 
 
 356 
 
 (h) WILKINSON'S DYING CON- 
 FESSION.— When the venerable Mr. 
 Wilkinson had reached nearly the close 
 of 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 ? 
 Well, 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 ! / 
 shall never get beyond that prayer.'^ 
 
 (i) PRAYER AND GOOD 
 WORKS.—" It has been often ob- 
 served," says Dr. Owen, in his Doctrine 
 of Justification, " 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 ; 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." 
 
 (j) 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 
 undesigned experiment which I prose- 
 cuted for upwards of twelve years 
 among you. For the greater part of 
 that time, I could expatiate 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- 
 tinct 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." 
 
 \k) 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 
 
356 
 
 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 Jehovah'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 oifensive. 
 
 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. 
 With 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, unholy, 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 ?" 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, &c. ; 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 ?" 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 
 CHRIST— 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. 
 
 (o) PLACE TO LOSE SELF— 
 A person who had long practised many 
 austerities, without finding any comfort 
 or change of heart, was once complair,- 
 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 you lose self, will be that 
 where you find your Savior." 
 
 468 
 
MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 35*7, 25S 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 257. Call to the Ministry. 
 
 (a) DR. DODDRIDGE'S CALL.— 
 
 WJien 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- 
 perly regarded this as an instance of the 
 Divine goodness, and to this fact may 
 be attributed, under God, his subsequent 
 usefulness in the Christian church. 
 
 (b) 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 helieved it,'^ 
 said an acquaintance standing by. 
 
 (c) THE FARMER BECOMING I 
 A MINISTER.— 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- 
 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 
 but express the simple feelings of his 
 
 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 
 
 258. 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 
 eighty-three. His first book was pub- 
 lished 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 more 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 
 
258 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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. 
 
 (h) LABORS OF CALVIN.— Dr. 
 Hoyle, who wrote under the patronage 
 of Archbishop Usher, mentioning Calvin, 
 says, " What shall I speak of his 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-six, 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- 
 tions 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 endear or- 
 ed to persuade him to ease himself, he 
 replied, " What ! shall my Lord come 
 and find me idle ?" 
 
 (c) DEATH IN VIEW.— Some 
 years 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 
 470 
 
 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 bis 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 !" 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. 
 Tennent 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 ?" 
 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 ; )ny business is to live 
 
INDUSTRY, ENERGY, DEVOTION, ETC. 
 
 258 
 
 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 over- 
 done with the heat and burden of the 
 day. Do, master, let me return home, 
 and be discharged from this hard ser- 
 vice ?' What should I say? 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." 
 
 (e) MR. WILKS 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. W. '' Have you any 
 thing more to communicate ?" " No, 
 nothing of special interest." " Any 
 further inquiries to make ?" " None." 
 " Then you must leave me ; I have my 
 Master's business to attend to — good 
 morning." " H^ere," 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 11, 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 to 
 him, on condition of promising to abstain 
 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, by la- 
 borious and constant preaching, un- 
 ceasing pastoral labors, and numerous 
 publications from the press, was yet un- 
 willing to give himself ease, 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 cofliin 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." 
 
 (z) 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. 
 
 (j) IMPOSSIBLE TO STOP 
 PREACfflNG.— 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 
 his injEirmities 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 ?" 
 
 (k) PAYSON'S LOVE FOR 
 PREACHING.— Never 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 
 I 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- 
 terment. 
 
 {I) CECIL'S LOVE FOR STUDY. 
 — It is recorded of the late Rev. R. 
 472 
 
 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 I see 
 Deserts of vast eternity. 
 
 (m) LABORS OF WESLEY.— 
 Among other features in the character 
 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 Nelson, 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 country I 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- 
 
INDUSTRY, ENERGY, DEVOTION, ETC. 
 
 358 
 
 rable exhortations to the societies after 
 preaching, and in other occasional meet- 
 ings at which he assisted or presided. 
 His journeys, in 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. 
 
 (n) NUMBER OF WHITEFIELD'S 
 SERMONS. — From a memorandum 
 book, in which Mr. Whitefield 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 difficult 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 ! 
 (o) WHITEFIELD'S FIRfc 
 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 ! He so 
 bore down all by love, reason, and Scrip- 
 ture, that we soon behold him, at the 
 request of the captain and officers, 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 to-night to turn the 
 observations made on the lessons in the 
 morning into 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 Mj^ 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 !" 
 
 (p) OUSELEY'S ZEAL.— The fol- 
 lowing beautiful and striking miniature 
 likeness of that g^eat and good man, 
 Gideon Ouseley, is from the pen of Dr. 
 Elliott, editor of the Western 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 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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- 
 vated 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 
 open 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, (fee; 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 untimely 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- 
 ness and labors. 
 
 (q) TOO MUCH MONEY AND 
 TOO LITTLE LABOR.— Mr. Fletch- 
 474 
 
 er accepted the living of Madely 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 
 smalls, the duty light, the income good, 
 (j£400 per annum,) and it is situated in 
 a fine healthy sporting country." Af- 
 ter thanking Mr. Hill most cordially 
 for his kindness, Mr. Fletcher added, 
 " 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, 1 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. 
 
 (r) THE SICK MINISTER'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, 
 ii^lis 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 ?" " Six years," answered the 
 doctors. " And if I continue in office ?" 
 " Three years, at most." " Your ser- 
 vant, gentlemen," he replied ; " I should 
 
SIMPLICITY OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 359 
 
 prefer living two or three years in do- 
 ing some good, to living six in idleness." 
 (s) " LET ME LABOR NOW."— 
 When 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." 
 
 2§9. Simplicity of Language. 
 
 (a) " DEITY ! WHO IS HE ?"— 
 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 listening, immediately started 
 from his seat, his elbows fully spread, 
 and exclaimed aloud, " Deity ! well, who 
 is He? is He our God-a-Mighty ?" 
 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. 
 
 (b) LUTHER'S PREACHING.— 
 On one occasion, during the sixteenth 
 century, the principal reformers having 
 been called together, several of d^m 
 preached. Luther, though ui^pl, 
 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 by 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." 
 
 (c) SIMPLICITY OF WESLEY. 
 —In June, 1790, the Rev. J. Wesley 
 preached at Lincoln : his text was, Luke 
 X. 42 ; " One thing is needful." When 
 the congregation were retiring from the 
 chapel, a lady exclaimed, in a tone of 
 great surprise, " Is this the great Mr. 
 Wesley, of whom we hear so much in 
 the present day ? Why, 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." 
 
 (d) 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 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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 much learning, my brethren, is 
 required, to make these things plain !" 
 
 (e) FEW PLEASED, BUT ONE 
 CONVERTED.— 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 for 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 display his 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. 
 
 (/) ROMAINE'S PLAIN PREACH- 
 ING. — 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," 
 476 
 
 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 XL- 
 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 he pleased. 
 
 (h) 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." 
 
 rd WHITEFIELD AND GRIM- 
 Sl{||^VE. — Mr. Whitefield, in a sermon 
 he preached at Haworth, 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 
 
FIDELITY AND BOLDNESS. 
 
 260 
 
 him, who had so long enjoyed the bene- 
 jfit 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 going to hell with their eyes open." 
 (d) INDIVIDUALITY IN PREACH- 
 ING. — 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 ^ Christian remiss in duty, 
 which painfully distressed her, till he 
 gave her an assurance of his entire for- 
 giveness. 
 
 (e) RITCHIE AND THE PRO- 
 FANE SWEARER.— The late 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 
 promise, 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. 
 
 (/) 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) OFFENDING A NOBLEMAN 
 — Mr. Dod having preached against the 
 profanation of the Sabbath, which miich 
 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 ofiended 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 
 offend my Lord, let him be offended." 
 
 (h) FAITHFULNESS TO GOD 
 AND THE KING.— Bishop Latimer 
 having one day preached before King 
 Henry VIII a sermon which displeased 
 his majesty, he was ordered to preach 
 again on the next Sabbath, and to make 
 477 
 
360 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 an apology for the offence he had given. 
 After reading his text, the bishop thus 
 began his sermon : — " Hugh 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." He 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- 
 ing the good man by the hand, embraced 
 him, saying, " Blessed be God, I have 
 so honest a servant." 
 
 (i) "SHORT MEASURE."— The 
 following incident in the life of William 
 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 Daniel 5 : 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 the former capacity, it was 
 478 
 
 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. Here, without adverting in his 
 mind to the case of his 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, 
 exclaiming, 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.' " 
 ij) 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. 
 
 (k) BOURDALOUE'S FAITHFUL- 
 NESS. — The reputation 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. With 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." 
 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 
 but the King of kings." 
 
 (/)THE KNIGHT'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) WALKER AND THE REG- 
 TOR.— After the late Rev. Samuel 
 Walker, 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 lirged 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, and 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. W.'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 a su- 
 perior order, and am so abashed, that I 
 am uneasy till I can retire from it." 
 
 (n) LATIMER ACCUSED BE- 
 FORE HENRY VIII.— Bishop Lati- 
 mer, in preaching before King Henry 
 the Eighth, spoke his mind ver^ 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 to 
 479 
 
260, 261 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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 ?" 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 received 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. 
 
 (o) 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 
 pleasi^e, and then continued his ser- 
 mon. 
 
 261. Ingenuity and Wit. 
 
 (a) KIND OF MINISTER 
 WANTED.— The people of one of the 
 out parishes in Virginia, wrote to Dr. 
 480 
 
 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 
 visit a good deal, for their former minis- 
 ter had neglected that, and they wanted 
 to bring it up. They wanted a man of 
 very gentlemanly deportment, 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. 
 
 (b) PREACHING ON THE TIMES. 
 — In 1648, 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 ?" 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 be suflTered to preach on eterni- 
 ty ^ 
 
 (c) THE ELEVENTH COM- 
 MANDMENT.— 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 
 
INGENUITY AND WIT. 
 
 d6i 
 
 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) WHITEFIELD 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 difficult 
 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 
 31 
 
 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 mis- 
 take. I went as an observer of human 
 nature, and to see the effect that such 
 an example would have on those who 
 witnessed it. I watched the conduct of 
 those who were present on that awful 
 occasion, ar^d 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 ! 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." 
 
 (e) 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 ?" " Why, sir, it was 
 the passage from, the pulpit inter the ves- 
 try." 
 
 (/) NEWTON'S REPROOF.— 
 The excellent John Newton was faith- 
 ful and ingenious in administering re- 
 481 
 
261 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 proof. He 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. Newton'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. "What can that be?" 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) WHITEFIELD 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 ! can you hear 
 this and not be charmed ? 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. I too have been ready to say 
 482 
 
 with astonishment, Where are his 
 ears ?" 
 
 (0 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. Being a 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 reason 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 / 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 .?" 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. 
 
 (j) 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; if the eyes of the whole kingdom 
 
INGENUITY AND WIT. 
 
 1261 
 
 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 ? 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 I am scarcely at- 
 tended to," 
 
 (k) 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 1 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 t 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 ! this night thy soul shall be 
 required of thee : then whose shall those 
 things be which thou hast provided V 
 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, tie 
 
 never heard the truth. This accounts 
 for our Lord's words, ' How hardly 
 shall they that have riches enter into 
 the kingdom of God ! But although he 
 thought himself wise, and others wish- 
 ed to be like him, God addresses him 
 differently,—' Thou fool !' 
 
 " Why, 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 shall not say, sir." 
 
 " Well, sir, if you will allow 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." 
 
 (0 HAYNES' REPLY TO THE 
 SCOFFERS.— 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 ?" " No," said Mr. Haynes, 
 " what is it ?" " It is great news in- 
 deed," said the other, " and, if true, 
 your business is done." " What is it ?" 
 again inquired Mr. Haynes. " Why," 
 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 ?" 
 
 (m) THE PULPIT WINDOW 
 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 
 483 
 
»61 
 
 MINISTERS CHRISTIAN. 
 
 glass broken in the pulpit window, and 
 possibly you may suffer from the cold. 
 The cushion, too, is in a bad condition ; 
 but I beg of you not to say any thing to 
 my people on the subject ; they are 
 poor, &;c." " 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. 
 
 (n) NEW USE FOR JACOB'S 
 LADDER. — A Welsh 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 
 484 
 
 his being happy among you, I have been 
 thinking you have need to pray again. 
 ' Pray again ? Pray again ? What 
 should we pray again for V Well, I 
 think you have need to pray again. 
 ' But for what ?' Why, I'll tell you. 
 Pray that God would put Jacob's ladder 
 down to the earth again. ' Jacob's lad- 
 der ! Jacob's ladder ! What has Jacob's 
 ladder to do with our minister ?' Why, 
 I think, if God would put Jacob's lad- 
 der down, that your mijiister could go 
 vp 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 n\ust 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 Jacob'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 do.y, save you the painful neces- 
 sity of supporting him." 
 
 (o) JAY AND THE ANGEL.— 
 When 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, wa» 
 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 
 the man. " What church ?" asked Mr. 
 Jay. " The Irvingite church at Bris- 
 tol," replied the angel. "Take off 
 your coat," said Mr. Jay. The angel 
 
PERSONAL INTERCOURSE 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) WHITEFIELD AND THE 
 SCOFFER.— When 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 
 into 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, Whiie- 
 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. 
 With gathering force and earnestness 
 he told of the unlikely objects it had 
 often chosen, and the unlooked for tri- 
 umphs it had achievsd. 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, 
 1 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 same 
 
 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. 
 
 M. Personal Intercourse and Pastoral 
 Labor. 
 
 ■(«) DOCTOR SPRING AND THE 
 THOUGHTLESS YOUNG LADY.— 
 
 Dr. Spring, of New- York, once related, 
 that during the period of a revival of 
 religion in that city, a young lady, the 
 object of high hope, the centre of wide 
 influence, capable of noble things, yet 
 careering 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." What a rebuke to fear ! What 
 an encouragement to hope, and to ac- 
 tion ! 
 
 (h) REV. MR. CHARLES' PRAC- 
 TICE.— When the Rev. Mr. Charles, 
 of Bala in Wales, 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 from his questions. He was 
 485 
 
963 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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 road, 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. 
 
 (c) 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. Afler 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 invitation 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- 
 son'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, and 
 486 
 
 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, " What writer 
 
PERSONAL INTERCOURSE AND PASTORAL LABOR. 
 
 262 
 
 has said, ' The devil invented the fash- 
 ion of carrying round tea, to prevent a 
 blessing being asked ?' " 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 ?" 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 min^istrations, in ex- 
 change for those on which he had for- 
 merly attended. 
 
 {d) THE INFIDEL'S RETORT. 
 — A preacher perceiving, on one occa- 
 sion, among his hearers, an individual 
 who was known in the neighborhood as 
 a ringleader of infidelity, was induced 
 to hope that some alteration had taken 
 place in his views. To ascertain wheth- 
 
 er such was the fact, he called 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. " What !" he ex- 
 claimed, " do you mean, sir, to call me 
 a hypocrite ?" "I call you no ill names, 
 sir," he coolly replied ; " but what 1 
 mean to say is this ; you have known 
 of my infidelity for years, and though 1 
 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 would 
 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, 
 " What is the state of your soul, my 
 friend?" The stranger turned ; Neff 
 perceived his error, apologized, and went 
 his way. About three or four years af- 
 terwards, a person came to Neff, and 
 accosted him, saying, he was indebted 
 to him for his inestimable kindness. 
 Neff 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 V 
 It was I ; your question led me to seri- 
 ous reflections, and now I find it is well 
 with my souV This proves what ap- 
 parently small means may be 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, " What 
 opportunities shall I have to do good ?" 
 And one of the points on which he 
 487 
 
363 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 should examine himself, on his return, 
 is, " What opportunities have I lost ?" 
 
 Ml Success in their Labors. 
 
 (a) THE DAIRYMAN'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 Wall- 
 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 !" 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c) MR. GRIMSHA W'S SUCCESS. 
 — " The last time I was with Mr. Grim- 
 shaw," 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 
 
 488 
 
 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, I can 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 Jackson, of 
 Stockwell, in the memoir of Mr. Hill, 
 furnished to the Evangelical Magazine, 
 states : — Perhaps 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 deacons 
 
SUCCESS IN THEIR LABORS. 
 
 2SS 
 
 and a few friends had retired, with Mr. 
 IL, 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 ?" 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 hold 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 
 clergyman was to preach out of doors, 
 we determined 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 ; bpt 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 
 ho could utter ; he retired to his apart- 
 ment, I to mine ; but neither of us dared 
 to 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 hundred years, 
 to have the pleasure of shaking you by 
 the hand before we go home, it would 
 
 be the greatest honor that could be con- 
 ferred on us." Mr, H. was deeply af- 
 fected ; the tears rolled down his ven- 
 erable cheeks 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 
 others' arms, weeping tears of holy joy 
 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. 
 
 (e) 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 lor 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 Almighty that brought Mr. 
 489 
 
263 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 East to repentance, just as he had de- 
 termined to leave his native country 
 for ever. 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, and 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 
 ireacher delivered himself with as 
 .Tiuch 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. 
 
 (/i) 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 salary, 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. 
 
 {i) 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 
 490 
 
 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 — then young — 
 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 ?" " 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." 
 
 (i) RESULTS OF HUMBLE EF- 
 FORTS. — At one of the anniversaries 
 in New-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. 
 
TRIALS OF MINISTERS. 
 
 3G4 
 
 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 — several 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. 
 
 264. Trials of Ministers. 
 
 (a) 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 haft 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." 
 
 (b) 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 that 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. 
 
 (c) SOMETHING MORE AWFUL 
 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 !' " 
 
 (d) MINISTER'S HARVEST DAY. 
 — During the great revival of religion 
 in America, which took place under 
 Mr. Whitefield, 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 intended to be delivered, and 
 
 made some progress in his preparations. 
 
 491 
 
264 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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 tJiat 
 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 
 persons. 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 
 
 49^ 
 
 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," Jer. 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. 
 
 (/) SERMON THROWN UPON 
 THE FIRE.— 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 afterwards preached the 
 
FAULTS OF MINISTERS. 
 
 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 
 appoinied to deliver an address in the 
 vestry of Broadmead Chapel from iTim. 
 4 : lb : " 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 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 
 himself, was such as rather augmented 
 than diminished their persuasion of what 
 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 wimess, 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 !" 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. 
 
 26§. Faults of Ministers. 
 
 (a) DR. MASON'S CRITICISM.— 
 On one occasion it is related of Dr. 
 Mason, of New- 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- 
 mon 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 
 owe 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- 
 mon." 
 
 ^ (b) DR. DWIGHT 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 Abbe 
 
 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 abbe had 
 only touched a little on religion, he 
 would have told us of every thing." 
 
 (e) NOT DEALING IN SCRIP- 
 TURE. — A woman went one day to 
 
 hear 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 to-day, 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 
 
265 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 vices are very frequent. Few things 
 appear so bad 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- 
 ter 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 ! !" " Why so, my boy ?" 
 " 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, 
 494 
 
 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.' Now I 
 really believe the doctor sometimes 
 mistook the place, and that was the 
 cause of what appeared so unaccount- 
 able." 
 
 (0 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. " What, 
 you a minister of the gospel, a man of 
 God ?" cried the inn-keeper, " you came 
 to my house last night, you sat down at 
 the table without asking a blessing, I lit 
 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." 
 
 (j) THE THIRD HEAD.— A 
 certain French preacher, after a long 
 and pompous introduction, said, " I shall 
 now proceed, rny 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 
 more faithful, consistent Christians, and 
 
FAULTS OF MINISTERS. 
 
 265 
 
 more done to advance the mild kingdom 
 of Christ. 
 
 (k) FALSE AND UNGODLY 
 DELICACY.— The Rev. Dr. Griffin 
 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 taste that savors far more 
 of false delicacy than real refinem^t or 
 good sense. 
 
 (Z) SERMON FOR DR. MAN- 
 TON. — Dr. Harris relates, tiiat 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 affir- 
 mative, the man added, " Sir, I came 
 with the hope of getting some good for 
 my soul, but I was greatly disappoint- 
 ed ; for 1 could not understand a great 
 deal of what you said ; you were quite 
 above me." The doctor wept, and re- 
 plied, " Friend, if 1 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 
 SIX. — 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 
 affirmative, " And how many of your 
 
 people," it was said, " do you suppose 
 can understand you ?" " About 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 ! Oh, shameful prostitution of the 
 noblest function ! 
 
 (n) 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 ofl* 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." 
 
 (o) 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 
 
 MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 lie 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 ;" 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. Al- 
 most thou persuadest me to be an infideV^ 
 
 266. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (^) NETTLETON 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 of his 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- 
 496 
 
 lent and inefficient 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. 
 Nettleton, 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. 
 
 {h) HOW TO HAVE A GOOjJ 
 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 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 266 
 
 whose labors they enjoy, to some other 
 man, or to their heau 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. We have been standing 
 and looking on, expecting him to raise 
 both himself and us to eminence. 
 Now let us adopt a diflTerent 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 
 soon 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 ho^v 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 ? Go thou and do like- 
 wise. 
 
 (c) THE MINISTER'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. 
 
 32 
 
 497 
 
367 
 
 MISERS. 
 
 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. When 
 his last means were exhausted, liis 
 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 tbrmed 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- 
 498 
 
 tages ; retained without a single devia- 
 tion his extreme parsimony ; and thus 
 advanced by degrees into larger trans- 
 actions and incipient wealth. The final 
 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 remarkable 
 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 3000/. 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 
 
 fl' 
 
MISERS. 
 
 26T 
 
 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 Griffiths could not tell ; but it 
 now appears that he used to rob one jug 
 to add to the other. 
 
 (c) 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 offi- 
 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. While a 
 magistrate at Boulogne, 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. 
 
 (d) 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, but I 
 have no appetite for the meat ; what^ 
 thon, is to become of that?" 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-job- 
 bing. He died possessed of 125,000Z. 
 sterling. 
 
 {e) ECONOMY OF MR. EL WES. 
 — 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 difficulty, 
 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 
 insufficiency of riches to render man- 
 kind happy. 
 
 (/) 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 Sii* John Barnardiston. 
 With 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- 
 thing." 
 
 (g) 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 many 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 the premises by barking 
 nearly the whole of the night. At 
 length 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 service 
 himself, by going his rounds every 
 evening, and barking as well and as 
 loud as he could, in imitation of his 
 faithful sentinel. 
 
 (/i) 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 be 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, thai 
 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 this 
 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 ! What is their value 
 without the favor of God accompanying 
 them? 
 
 500 
 
MISSIONS. 
 
 268 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 NEED OF MISSIONS. 
 268. Ignorance of the Heathen. 
 
 (a) SUPERSTITION OF THE 
 CHINESE.— 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 expected 
 in the southwest regions, and half the 
 population will be diseased in the south- 
 
 (b) 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 
 criminal 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- 
 ticularly 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 ; now, before you hang me, 
 pray give me such a good dinner as you 
 have." The indulgence was granted, 
 and he ate with no small 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 ! 
 
 (c) 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-crea- 
 tures, who, Tike 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." 
 
 (d) WHERE SHALL I GO LAST 
 OF ALL ?— A Hindoo, of a thoughtful, 
 reflecting turn of miud, but devoted to 
 idolatry, lay on his death-bod. As he 
 saw himself about to plunge into that 
 boundless unknown, he cried out, 
 " What 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 
 
368, 269 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 " Into another, and so on, through thou- 
 sands of millions." Darting across this 
 whole period as though it were but an 
 instant, he cried, " Where shall I go 
 then ?" Paganism could not answer, 
 and he died agonizing under the inquiry, 
 " where shall I go last of all ?" 
 
 (e) THE MIND AND THE 
 HEART. — 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 those 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 ! 
 
 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 Ccesar looking 
 into the entrails of a sheep, %r watching 
 the flight of birds, to propitiate the gods, 
 or predict the result of a military cam- 
 paign ! 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 sta.rs required and re- 
 502 
 
 ceived nourishment. Seneca was of 
 the same opinion, who says, "hence 
 it is that so many stars are maintained ; 
 as eager for their pasture as they are 
 hard 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 present 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." 
 
 269. Idolatry. 
 
 (a) IDOLATERS CAN WOR- 
 SHIP ANY THING.— 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. When we asked him why 
 he worshiped an European engraving, 
 he replied, " O, we worship any 
 thing." 
 
 {h) A MECHANIC'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- 
 
IDOLATRY. 
 
 969 
 
 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 among the Mahrattas, in 
 India, " by the following incident which 
 occurred in the temple at Pimpulwun- 
 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. 
 
 (d) FESTIVAL OF JUGGER- 
 NAUT. — 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 thronged 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 listlessncss, 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, wo- 
 men, and children, all pressed forward, 
 to lay, if it might be, even a finger upon 
 the ropes that dragged the stupendous 
 
 503 
 
270 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 car. Many were the worn-out and 
 travel-soiled pilgrims who were crushed 
 to 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 
 •iressure that rolled along its surface. 
 In a short space it stopped, and then 
 ihe worship of the god commenced. 
 
 The chief priest advanced, and with 
 many a low salaam 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 descj:iption. 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 tlie 
 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. 
 504 
 
 270. 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 frantic 
 superstition celebrated, when, inclosing 
 men, women and children in one vast 
 wicker image, in the form of a man, arid 
 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. 
 
 {h) 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 priests. 
 
 (c) HABITATIONS 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 
 
SELF-TORTURE AND SELF-MURDER. 
 
 270, 371 
 
 the family of the monarch, a human sa- 
 crifico was demanded to appease the of- 
 lended 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 victinj, 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 part, 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 ! 
 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 public 
 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 often 
 regarded by their authors as actions of 
 merit rather than of infamy." 
 
 . (d) HUMAN SACRIFICES IN 
 AFRICA. — 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. 
 
 271. Self-Torture and Self-Murder. 
 
 {a) DEVOTEES OF JUGGER- 
 NAUT. — The facts below are gleaned 
 from Dr. Duff's work on India, and 
 from the organs of missionary societies. 
 
 Many of the pilgrims to .luggemaut, 
 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 hook 
 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- 
 heads, insert a small rod 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 lys 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 ! 
 
 (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 
 500 
 
 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 ! 
 (c) 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 en 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 roll back again to Benares, 
 on the other side 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- 
 
SELF-TORTURE AND SELF-MURDER. 
 
 2'yi 
 
 ly, as an evidence of the highest wis- 
 dom and magnanimity ; 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 offerings of 
 the people. Certain it is that his jfami- 
 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. 
 
 (e) BORING THE TONGUE.— At 
 Chinsurah, in the East Indies, there is 
 a famous place of resort, called Surais- 
 hortollah, 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. 
 
 (/) SUFFERINGS OF A HIN- 
 DOO DEVOTEE.— A missionary thus 
 describes a singular case of self-torture. 
 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 : I could 
 but just understand him. I asked him 
 what he expected from this visit to Jug- 
 gernaut ? 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 ho 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 Rajah, or 
 chief of that country, taking pity on 
 him, opened the door of his cell, hoping 
 to persuade him to leave off tormenting 
 507 
 
272 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 himself; but the 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 
 the curses of these men,) for breaking 
 in upon him. What ! Did he think that 
 he was not above such sufferings as 
 these ! 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, got him a bed of spikes ; and this 
 bed of spikes became a sort of triumphal 
 car for the wret<jhec 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 I Having no longer, as he said, 
 any inclination Ito 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 ! 
 
 lit Infanticide. 
 
 (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 
 uid twenty every night — dogs and swine 
 508 
 
 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 ftither of nineteen children." Sit- 
 ting down, he gave vent to his agonizec' 
 feelings in a flood of tears. 
 
 (c) 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 house. They had one child, a 
 fine little 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 
 
CRUELTY TO PARENTS. 
 
 272, 2T3 
 
 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." 
 
 (d) THE RAJAH'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? 
 Take her in his arms and kiss her? 
 No ! He seized her by the hair of her 
 head, drew his sabre from his belt, and 
 cut off her head at one blow. 
 
 m. 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. When 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 un- 
 happy man. The work of murder was 
 soon performed, and the relatives re- 
 turned to their dwellings, thankful to 
 obtain relief, by this method, 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 amu$e 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 habitations 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 morning 
 I went to Pal a, 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 be 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 habitations of cruelty !" 
 
 However, we saved the lives of the 
 509 
 
273, 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 Jesus unto them. The result 
 eternity alone will tell. 
 
 (c) FORMER CRUELTY OF 
 SANDWICH 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. 
 
 {d) 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. 
 
 274. Cannibalism. 
 
 (a) BOYS FATTENED FOR 
 SLAUGHTER.— The Rev. Dr. Ca- 
 rey, of Serampore, writing t( a friend 
 510 
 
 in England, a few years ago, had occa- 
 sion to speak of Sumatra, as an impor- 
 tant station for the establishment of a 
 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 coast 
 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 fattened. 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." 
 
 (b) CANNIBALISM IN NEW ZEA- 
 LAND. — 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 hill. 
 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 the bloody spot 
 on which the head of the unhappy 
 victim had been cut off; and, on ap- 
 proaching, he was not a little startled 
 at the sudden appearance of a savage- 
 looking man, of gigantic stature, en- 
 
TREATMENT OF FEMALES. 
 
 274, 27S 
 
 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- 
 ED. — 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 flesh ! In some instances, this 
 execrable appetite for human flesh has 
 become 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- 1 
 
 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. 
 
 275. Treatmenl 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. We are dragged along, with 
 one infant at the breast, and another in 
 a basket. They return in the evening 
 without any burden. We 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 endure 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 
 
375, 276 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 I say again, would to God my mother 
 had put me under ground the moment 
 1 was born." 
 
 {b) THE PRIEST'S REASONING. 
 — About the beginning of 1825, Mr. 
 King, an American missionary, spent 
 about six months 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. 
 
 (c) THE HEATHEN ARE WITH- 
 OUT NATURAL AFFECTION.— A 
 Hindoo 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 ? It is but 
 a girl." At length some milk was 
 procured, and the starving child re 
 512 
 
 ceived the nourishment with the utmost 
 avidity. The heart of the missionary 
 was touched by its look of imploring 
 earnestness and unbounded joy. He 
 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 ? " No," 
 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." 
 
 (b) EXAMPLE OF A RE- 
 VENGEFUL SPIRIT.— The Tahiti- 
 ans, before the introduction of Christi- 
 anity among them, were as implacable 
 and untiring in their eiTorts 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 wearing 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 i 
 are more harmless, none more kindly 
 affectioned one toward another. 
 
TEMPORAL BENEFITS. 
 
 276, 277 
 
 (c) PRAYER MILLS OF TAR- 
 TARY. — The 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. 
 Where 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 kiirdus 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 
 Moo;uls. 
 
 We can smile at this worthless device. 
 Is it, however, moi'e 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 ? 
 
 (d) REMORSE OF AN INDIAN. 
 — A young Indian, belonging to one of 
 the most untutored tribes of North Amer- 
 ica, coveted the distinction of a hrave. 
 To secure this. rank it was necessary, by 
 the usages of his tribe, to kill an enemy. 
 
 33 
 
 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. 
 277. Temporal Benefits. 
 
 {a) A MISSIONARY MAKING 
 PEACE. — On one occasion, when Mr. 
 Nott, 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. 
 
 {h) THE WILD MEN OF THE 
 JUNGLE. — In the interior of the island 
 of Ceylon there is a tribe of wild men 
 called the Veddahs. When first visit- 
 ed by the Wesleyan Missionaries they 
 seemed to be the lowest specimen 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 
 
2Ty 
 
 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 heen baptized, and many more are 
 earnestly desiring to embrace the gos- 
 feV 
 
 (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- 
 tively unknown. 
 
 514 
 
 Says Mr. Ellis — " Often 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 of war 
 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 !" 
 
 (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 insufficient 
 evert 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, brought into the 
 
TEMPORAL BENEFITS. 
 
 s-yr 
 
 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. In 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. The 
 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 
 you." 
 
 (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 
 
 I people, had built themselves houses, 
 
 i cultivated farms, and almost all of them 
 
 j were doing well. One circumstance to 
 
 i which he alluded was particularly 
 
 j touching. He said he was explaining 
 
 I to them the intercession of Christ 
 
 j through an interpreter, who was himself 
 
 I a converted Indian, but previously a very 
 
 I bad man, one who, in a passion, had 
 
 I murdered his wife. This was the first 
 
 Ltime they had ever heard it explained in 
 
 [rhis way, and the whole tribe were so 
 
 j affected, that they could hardly sit on 
 
 i 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. 
 
 (/) IMPROVED CONDITION OF 
 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 ago," 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. We 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 
 G^d 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, 278 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 roots are strong. Our hearts delighted [ 
 in war, but our teachers love peace, and 
 we now have peace." 
 
 (g) 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- 
 ory, 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. (Jne 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 
 Oro, and durst not come back to our 
 homes till we heard that a victim had 
 been slain and carried to the marae." 
 
 (h) THE JUSTICE'S TESTIMO- 
 NY.— 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 
 comparison of the population at the Mis- 
 sionary stations with that of the rest of 
 .516 
 
 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. 
 
 (0 THE FOURTH KING.— 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 ail 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 we 
 now have peace and plenty in this 
 world, and hope soon to dwell with him 
 in heaven." 
 
 278. Spiritual Benefits.— Remarkable 
 Conversions and Revivals. 
 
 (a) CONVERSION OF TUAHINE 
 — In a letter from the Rev. Mr. Ors- 
 mond, a missionary in the South Seas, 
 he gives the following interesting ac- 
 count : — 
 
 A young man named Tuahine, came 
 loitering about my house in an unu.sual 
 way. Knowing him to be one of the 
 baser sort, I said, " Friend, have you 
 any business with me ?" 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. To-day I have 
 broke through all fear. I want to know, 
 is there room for me ? can I expect 
 mercy ?" I said, " How came you to 
 have such a thought as that V His 
 countenance blushed ; tears started from 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 278 
 
 his eyes, and he said, " I was at work, 
 putting up my garden fenpe. 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, f 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 V 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. 
 
 (b) 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 magical charms. As he was, in 
 this manner, a powerful obstruction 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 
 thoughts," 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 this 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. 
 
 (c) 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 ro-om, and were about 
 to lie down to sleep, Whelpley, (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, " What 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 
 
978 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 couraging evidence of conversion. This 
 was a specimen of the displays of divine 
 mercy witnessed at the several stations 
 of the mission. 
 
 (d) 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." 
 
 (e) 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 home, came into the colony, and 
 watched for an opportunity of accoiti- 
 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 vvath it as fast as he 
 could. Elated 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 
 shali not steal.^^ He could go no farther. 
 He immediately drew up the horse, and 
 said to himself, " What is this 1 I have 
 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 
 
 518 
 
 horse back again, which he accordingly ; 
 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 ox 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 finding 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 took to his temple 
 and read ; but it was four years before 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 2r§ 
 
 the prido of his heart v/oukl allow him 
 to divulge the struggle that was going 
 on in his mind. The rank he held in 
 the priesthood, being now second in the 
 Island ; his reputation for learning; and 
 the influence he had among the people, 
 were cii'cumstances 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 
 calamity 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 Wesleyan 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 till 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." 
 Ho said again, " Teacher, have you the 
 Gospel of John ?" He was evidently 
 well educated ; I asked, therefore, " How 
 did you learn about these books ?" 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." 
 
 (/i) 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 mon- 
 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 
 
27S 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 missionaries to return to one of the sta- 
 tions, from which they had been driven 
 in terror by his violence. After some 
 dday, he granted the request. The 
 conversation and preaching of a mission- 
 ary, at this station, had «uch an effect, 
 that Africaner one dtiy said to him, " I 
 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." 
 
 When 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 
 of these 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 ; 
 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. 
 
 {i) 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 
 520 
 
 would be easy. Some directed him to 
 witches and wizards, whom he found 
 miserable comforters; for they told him 
 that 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 various 
 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 !" He repaired to the 
 missionaries, expressing his wish to be- 
 come acquainted with this Jesus. And 
 he told all he met, thai 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." 
 
 (j) CONVERSION OF MIRZA 
 MAHOMED ALL— Mirza Mahomed 
 Ali, the only son of a venerable Persian 
 Judge, was introduced to tiie 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 
 the 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, I was more 
 than surprised to hear him reply, ' I no 
 more believe what is contained in that 
 book,' pointing to the Mohamn*edan 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 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 2T8 
 
 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 ? I once 
 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 father 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 thatr-''^ 
 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 
 office 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 professor 
 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. 
 
 (k) HINDOO GIRL SEEKING 
 JEStFS. — 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 
 
d78 
 
 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 a Savior. 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 ? No ; 
 she 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 
 this 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 
 522 
 
 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 J 
 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 ofT, 
 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 tell 
 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 offering ! He only could have 
 healed her broken heart, but she knew 
 him not. For a long, long 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 ? oh ! 
 where have you heard it ?" she eagerly 
 asked. " Tell me where I can find that 
 which I want, and for which I am dy- 
 ing ; I shall soon die, and oh, what shall 
 I do if I die without obtaining salva- 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 278 
 
 tion ?" The man told her 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 ? Take me to him." 
 The man cared nothing about this sal- 
 vation himself He thought slie 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 Narraput Christian ? He 
 Was once a rich and proud brahmin, but 
 he had given up all his riches and hon- 
 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 v/hom the beggar 
 spoke. 
 
 The Hindoo girl gave the beggar a 
 trifle, and that very evening she set out 
 in search of Narraput Christian, the 
 man who would lead her to Jesus. She 
 went from house to house, and inquired 
 of every one she met, " Where Narra- 
 put Christian, the man who would lead 
 her to Jesus, lived ?" 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 Narraput Christian lived, the 
 man who would lead her to Jesus?" 
 To her great joy, he pointed her to the 
 house, and when she reached it she met 
 Narraput 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 Jesus ? Oh I 
 take me to him ; I shall die, and what 
 shall I do if I die without obtaining sal- 
 vation ?" Narraput 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 thai 
 which she had so long wanted. 
 
 (/) THE MISSIONARY AND THE 
 PL ANTER.— 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, I was 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 believe that. Now stop, my 
 negroes. I brought him here to teach 
 morality and industry — that is, that you 
 523 
 
STS 
 
 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 no 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. 1 rose and re- 
 plied, and went further into the subject 
 than I had done before : he rose and re- 
 plied, and I rose and replied, and we 
 kept 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 
 Buckra." 
 
 But, hear the sequel. Before I left 
 that country, I saw this same proud 
 planter a humble penitent at the feet of 
 Jesus, putting his confidence alone in 
 that blood which cleanseth from all sin. 
 On my recent visit to the island, I wait- 
 ed upon him, and was delighted to see 
 him. He expressed himself in a way 
 that I cannot here describe : he was 
 walking in the truth, and adorning the 
 doctrine of God his Savior in all things. 
 
 (m) AN OLD IDOLATER.— One 
 day, 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 1 ; nor shall any thing 
 that you can say persuade me to forsake 
 this way. And," continued he, ad- 
 dressing the missionary, " what do you 
 want more than you have already? 
 524 
 
 Have you not won over such a chief, 
 and such a chief; ay, and you have 
 Pomare himself! what want you more ?" 
 " All — all the people of Raiatea ; and 
 you, yourself, I want!" replied Mr. 
 Wilson. " No, no," cried the old man ; 
 " me — you shall never have me ! I will 
 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 power and 
 love of God. Such was the blessed 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 
 KIND.— 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 mot- 
 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 priest 
 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 by the 
 Spirit of our God. 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 279 
 
 279. Striking Exhibitions of Christian 
 Tempers, &c. 
 
 (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 w^re 
 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. We 
 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. We 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 
 
 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. 
 Hiro, 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. We have stolen, and 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 knife ; 
 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 oui 
 dwellings ; we wish you to take them, 
 and give them back to the owners when- 
 ever they come." 
 
 525 
 
279 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 (c) THE 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 on 
 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 if 
 this make us guilty in the kingdom of the 
 queen, then whatever the queen does, we 
 submit to suffer." " Is this, then," said 
 the interrogator, " your final reply, 
 whether for life or for death ?" " It is 
 our fnal reply," they said, " whether for 
 life or death." " Who," asked the ex- 
 aminer, " sent you from Tananarivo ?" 
 " No 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, " Now 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- 
 BUKED. — 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- 
 
 526 
 
 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 officer was 
 ready to make arrangements for a sa- 
 lute. The governor returned an answer 
 that he was at divine service, but would 
 attend to the business on the following 
 day, at nine o'clock, A. M. Hence the 
 quiet of our Sabbath was not disturbed 
 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 vessels of 
 war, as well as most of the public men 
 in many parts of Christendom. 
 
 (e) GOOD FOR EVIL.— When it 
 was known among the islands that Mr. 
 Williams 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." 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 S-^O 
 
 (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 
 you." "Will you," said he, "suffer 
 me to buy myself free, if me can?" 
 "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 !" 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. 
 
 (h) THE CARPENTER AND 
 THE CONVERT.— A carpenter who 
 was building the new church at Wai- 
 mate, a Missionarj;^ 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 p-round. The native bore it all 
 most patiently, not murmurmg nor re- 
 sisting, till the other had ceased his cru- 
 elties : but then, starting on his feet, he 
 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 
 you, 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. 
 
 (i) " 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 tricklingdown, 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 Noa, 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." 
 
 0) JOY 0> THE REAPER.— A 
 short time since, says Rev. iVIr. 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. 
 
 {k) THE INSIDE MAN LOVES 
 HIM. — Formerly, says a New Zealand 
 convert, I was in another road, and bore 
 another likeness. 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, and my 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 now 
 love Christ. I cannot say that the out- 
 side man loves Jesus Christ; but the 
 inside man loves him. 
 
 (Z) A KING'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- 
 528 
 
 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 Keop- 
 uolani. An elegant solli, 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 
 Windsor 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." 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 2§0, 2§1 
 
 280. Happy Deaths of Missiouary Converts. 
 
 (a) TRIUMPHANT DEATH OF 
 A CONVERTED BRAHMIN.— The 
 
 following statement was made by the 
 Rev. 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 
 to us full of anxiety, inquiring, " What 
 shall I do to be saved ?" We instruct- 
 ed him out of the Gospel. He came 
 again and again, and at length re- 
 nounced his idols, and, we have no 
 doubt, gave his heart to Christ. After 
 many weeks he joined a Christian 
 church. But God did not suffer him to 
 remain w4th 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 ?" 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. 
 
 (h) 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 leprosy. 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 be," replied the 
 Missionary, " have you ever seen me 
 before?" "Oh yes, I have," replied 
 the dying man. " Did you not preach 
 three years ago in such a Bazaar?" "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 
 34 
 
 stood upon the steps of such a house ?" 
 " Oh yes," answered the other, " I do 
 remember it now." •' And do you re- 
 member what you preached there ?" 
 "No," said the Missionary, " I have no 
 recollection." " You told us," said the 
 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. I then 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, " Why 
 do you not go to your brother ? he lies 
 there dying with nobody to help him." 
 " Brother !" 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- 
 MENT.— 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 tope, 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 
 529 
 
2§1 
 
 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 ?" " 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 otliers written by 
 themselves. The visitor pointed out 
 the name of Jesus in one of the copies, 
 and inquired, " Who is that ?" " That 
 is God. He gave us this book." 
 " When did you obtain it ?" " 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 could 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 form of worship, but 
 each individual made daily and diligent 
 530 
 
 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 Flurdwar. 
 
 {h) 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 heathenism. 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 i heir 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 ?" 
 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 ? Have ye cut down and destroy- 
 ed the tutelar gods and goddesses of 
 your village ? Be sure that you and 
 your families will ere long be visited. 
 
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS. 
 
 2§1 
 
 Ammen will revenge lierself npon 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 worship, 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 ! 
 
 (c) SIVA AND HER TEMPLE. 
 — On the 27th of January, 1826, a place 
 of worship was opened at Rammakal- 
 choke, eight miles from Kidderpore : it 
 was crov/ded : 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 !" 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. 
 Here, 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 ; 
 
 and it is important to add, that the 
 rooting out of this idol from his dwell- 
 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 while 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. Williams 
 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. When 
 I found them, in 1823, they were igno- 
 rant of the nature of Christian worship ; 
 and when I left them, in 1834, 1 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 / 
 
3S1, 382 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 What has been said of Rarotonga is 
 equally applicable to the whole Hervey 
 Island group ; for, with the exception 
 of a ie\f 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. 
 
 {e) 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 bow the head, 
 532 
 
 and reverently cover the face during 
 prayer; and during sermon seeming 
 to devour tlie 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 unbidden 
 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 ! 
 
 28!. 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 following 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 the 
 missionary conversed with the criminal 
 in such affecting terms, that many others 
 were led to attend ; and after seeinoj 
 their comrade die in peace through 
 Christ, notwithstanding the offence he 
 
REFLEX BENEFITS. 
 
 3§5S 
 
 had committed, tliey 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 men remained faithful to 
 the solemn profession they had made, 
 and became diligent students of the 
 Bible. 
 
 (h) EMBARKATION OF MISSI- 
 ONARIES AND THE OBJECTING 
 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 av/ay 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 
 great and precious promises to myself, 
 I looked for light and behold darkness.' 
 1 knew not what to do, nor what to 
 think, 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 people wondered and wept over 
 their past inattention to this subject. 
 They began to talk about a Baptist mis- 
 
 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. No 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 SOCIETY 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." 
 
 (e) 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 ol[ 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. We 
 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 unfruitfulness, 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 
 ^ey had sought in vain. Christians of 
 533 
 
d$2 
 
 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 were 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 was more than equal to the expense." 
 (/) 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 Whig, 
 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. 
 When 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 carjy 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. 
 He 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 
 534 
 
 corn overboard, and threw salt water 
 over what was left for ballast 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, with respect. 
 Yours ti'uly, 
 
 Thomas Propert, 
 
 Master of the briff Brothers, of Pembroke. 
 Cardiff Roads, May 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 Id. each, every Monday morn- 
 ing. 
 
 {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 
 saiety over the fields, and through the 
 groves. If the missions in the Pacific 
 had been sustained entirely by our go- 
 vernment and the governments of Eu- 
 rope, it would have been a small 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 ? Yet how limited 
 the results in comparison ; how small, 
 I say, if we look merely at the com- 
 mercial benefit to the world ! 
 
HINDERANCES TO MISSIONS. 
 
 2§2, 2§3 
 
 (A) AN ENGLISH SEAMAN 
 CONVERTED AT OTAHEITE.— 
 Before the mission lo 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. 
 
 (i) 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 Nevv^ 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 181G, say: " In Sandis- 
 field, a special attention to religion, 
 which is traced to the monthly concert 
 of prayer as its origin, has ver}^ recently 
 changed the religious aspect of that 
 people. A hope is entertained of two 
 hundred, that they have passed from 
 death unto life." 
 
 "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, they have 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." 
 
 {j) HOW TO MULTIPLY MINIS- 
 TERS.— A writer in the St. Louis Ob- 
 server, relates the followii^ig 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 ? What shall we do V He was 
 somcv/hat 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. 
 
 281. Bad Example and Influence of Nomi- 
 nal Christians. 
 
 (a) FIRST MISSIONARIES TO 
 THE SANDWICH ISLANDS OP- 
 POSED BY EUROPEANS.— When 
 the first missionaries from America 
 reached the Sandwich Islands, in the 
 spring of 1820, an efTort was made by 
 some of the foreigners to have their 
 landing and establishment at the Islands 
 forbidden by the government. With 
 this view, their motives were misrepre- 
 535 
 
2§3, 284 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 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 tney have come from 
 America only to do us good : if they 
 intend to seize our islands, why are they 
 so few in number ? where are their 
 guns ? and why have they brought their 
 wives ?" 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 soon 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. 
 
 (b) 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 ? 
 The Christians lie, steal, and drink 
 worse than the Indians. Tjiey first 
 taught the Indians to be drunk. They 
 536 
 
 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 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." 
 
 (c) THE CHINESE AND EURO- 
 PEAN IDOLATRY.— The more intel- 
 ligent Chinese object to many parts of the 
 Catholic system, particularly to what 
 they call preaching down Chinese ido- 
 latry, 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 priestcraft. 
 
 " 1 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 M^ell 
 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." 
 
 284. Prejudices and PcrsccHlions 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 New- York. 
 
 A Hindoo Avoman, who professed to 
 have been converted, applied to him for 
 
HINDERANCES TO MISSIONS. 
 
 284 
 
 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, 1 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) TBE 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 ftxther 
 will disown him, his frantic mother will 
 curse the hour that gave her such 
 
 a son ; by the wife of his bosom he will 
 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- 
 LAND. — 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. 
 
 (d) 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 1 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 
 among them that is very provoking. I 
 frequently tell them that it is a regard 
 to their welfare that leads me to do as 
 I do ; 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 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 ' Won't you give me a book V Soon 
 after, perhaps a third says, ' Sahib ! I 
 will worship Jesus Christ !' and a fourth 
 exclaims, ' victory to Juggernaut the 
 Ruler!' Among these inflituated 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 
 I 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 
 Vv'orthy 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 
 538 
 
 touched his heart. He melted also, 
 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." 
 
 283. Privations and Perils of Blissionuries. 
 
 (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 V — 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 foe, 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 
 
PRIVATIONS AND PERILS OF MISSIONARIES. 
 
 2§5 
 
 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." 
 
 (b) SUFFERINGS OF DR. JUD- 
 SON. — The sufferings of Dr. Judson, 
 missionary to Burmah, while imprison- 
 ed, during the war between Burmah 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-ben- 
 lay, ten miles distant, under circum- 
 stances of such severe treatment, that 
 one of out 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-ben-lay prison for six months, in 
 one pair of fetters ; at the expiration of 
 which period I was taken out of irons, 
 
 and sent under a strict guard to the Bur- 
 mese head-quarters 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 f¥om 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-ben-lay, 
 whither she followed. Subsequently to 
 that period, she was twice brought to 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, v/ho 
 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 sen- 
 sible of our happy deliverance." 
 
 Some conceptions can be formed of 
 the sufferings of Dr. Judson during his 
 imprisonment at Ava, 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 Burman thieves and rob- 
 bers, that they had not sufficient 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 
 hot season had commenced. 
 
 (c) 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, I spoke 
 to them in the Arawak language, and 
 bade them welcome in a friendly man- 
 ner. They answered roughly that I 
 should speak the Ca,rribbee 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 gave 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 (rankly 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 ?" " No." 
 " 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." " Well, 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- 
 510 
 
 ferent from other white people." " Well, 
 if you knew that I loved you, how could 
 you think of killing me ?" He replied, 
 laughing, " Well, indeed, I never thought 
 of that." Upon this, all changed their 
 savage natures and walked otf. 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 Giver of 
 every good and perfect gift. During 
 this period, I sutfered 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. 
 
 (d) 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. 
 I Thus, while Count Zinzendorf, uncon- 
 I scious of danger, retired frequently to 
 his tent, to pray for the savages around 
 
PRIVATIONS AND PERILS OF MISSIONARIES. 
 
 Sf85 
 
 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. 
 
 (e) 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." 
 
 (/) 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- 
 stance is as follows : 
 
 The American teacher is stirring up 
 
 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 been 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 ?" 
 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 ofl* 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 off. 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 IN 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. Mean?, 
 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. While he was making it a 
 541 
 
285, 2§6 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 matter of prayer, liis 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. 
 
 (/i) ROMANCE OF MISSIONA- 
 RY LIFE.— Mr. 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 greet more la- 
 borers in this field, yet I feel 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 
 his 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 M'ooden 
 spoon into one common dish with half a 
 542 
 
 dozen hungry Koords or Yezidees, or 
 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. 
 
 {i) WESLEYAN MISSIONARY 
 AT FEJEE.— When the Wesleyan 
 Missionaries ventured among the canni- 
 bal Fejeeans, 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 Mr. 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 ]\Ir. 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. 
 
 286. 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 : 
 
ZEAL FOR MISSIONS. 
 
 286 
 
 1. We will all give something. 
 
 2. We will all give as God has ena- 
 bled 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 
 upon 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." 
 
 (b) 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 pu-stor forty 
 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, 
 
 how soon would the gospel be carried to 
 every creature ! 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 {(l) "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 co?ne ;' 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." 
 
 (e) 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 cannot 
 afford to give so much." " I am indeed 
 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 
 
2§6 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 the West 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 
 been 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 haupened 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 
 he 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 
 have 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 
 544 
 
 on my heart ; let it be my motto in all 
 that I take in hand for the cause of 
 Christ — '• God's work must be done, 
 and Imay be dead." 
 
 {g) ONE STICK OF WOOD PER 
 MONTH.— 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 of wood each per month. And I 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 diffidence, " 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 oldest son would « 
 be yielded up for the missionary ser- 
 vice, when his exertions might soon 
 prove useful to his widowed parent, h 
 her indigent circumstances. The in- 
 quiry was made, whether the son coulc 
 be allowed to give himself to the mis- 
 sionary cause ? " Let him go," waj 
 the prompt reply of the devoted mother. 
 " God will provide for me and m} 
 
ZEAL FOR MISSIONS. 
 
 3S6 
 
 babes, and who am I, that I should be 
 thus honored to have a son a missionary 
 to the heathen ?" 
 
 The young man, after obtaining an 
 education, repaired to India, where he 
 labored successfully and died. 
 
 (I) THE MOTHER OF A MIS- 
 SIONARY.— When the Lord's supper 
 was first administered in the Bengalee 
 language, at Union Chapel, Calcutta, a 
 missionary, "Rev. J. B. Warden, 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. 
 
 (j) REV. MR. COX GOING TO 
 AFRICA. — 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, •' If I die in Af- 
 rica, you must come after me and write 
 my epitaph." To which the other re- 
 plied, « I will ; but what shall I write ?" 
 35 
 
 " Let a thousand missionaries die before 
 Africa be given up," was the reply. In 
 this spirit he died. 
 
 (k) MISSIONARY ZEAL OF A 
 POOR WOMAN.— Rev. W.S. Plumer 
 addressing the Virginia Bap. Ed. So- 
 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. 
 
 (/) 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 Lai 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 
 545 
 
286 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 chapel, in which the word of life might 
 be regularly preached to the perishing 
 heathen. GrotJnd 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. When 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-confor- 
 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 off 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 
 546 
 
 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 ?" 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." 
 
 (o) ROBERT BOYLE'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's 
 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 
 CANADA. — 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 
 the close of the season, the accounts 
 
ZEAL FOR MISSIONS. 
 
 286 
 
 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. Now, 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 
 FARTHING 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 present unknown ; 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 lo 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 Hautia 
 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 loere, 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 I wish that it had 
 fallen to me and my wife to go." Oh, 
 what a lesson is this to Christians. 
 
 (s) 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 
 
 547 
 
286 
 
 MISSIONS. 
 
 inquiries on coming among them, was, 
 what they had clone in aid of benevolent 
 Societies. " What does your subscrip- 
 tion for foreign missions amount to ?" 
 " We 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 religious 
 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- 
 ai*y 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.'' 
 
 When 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 
 pigs." 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, 
 548 
 
 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 wrong spirit? 
 
 {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 tefll 
 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 
 officers ready to proceed to that sickly 
 station, a list containing several hundred 
 names was immediately handed to mc 
 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?' A young friend who had 
 
ZEAL FOR MISSIONS. 
 
 2§6 
 
 left the army, where he had greatly 
 distinguished himself, and had studied 
 for the ministry, was sitting in a retired 
 part of the room ; the words of Sir 
 Charles reached his heart ; he offered 
 himself 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." 
 
 {v) 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 la twenty-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 oTit 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. 
 
 (x) 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 I'avor- 
 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 
 
3S6, 2§7 
 
 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 WOMAN'S 
 RUPEE.— Mr. Kincaid records the fol- 
 lowing touching incident, in his journal 
 in the Magazine for November, 1*841 : — 
 
 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 fifleen 
 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. 1 could not comprehend 
 what she meant, and said, what is to be 
 done with this ? " 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, and infirm, and poor." 
 " Yes, but I love Christ, and this is very 
 little." Surely, I thought, here, in the 
 midst of 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, that 
 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 awak- 
 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 ? are you one of the knights-errant ? 
 How, pray, got Quixotism into your 
 head ? 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 ?" 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 
 550 
 
 had shown him and his brothers a small 
 volume, illuminated in diflferent places 
 with colored letters, and such other em- 
 bellishments as were then in fashion. 
 Seeing that it excited the adniiration of 
 her children, she promised that she 
 would give it to the boy who should 
 
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF. 
 
 28T 
 
 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. 
 
 (i) DODDRIDGE AND THE 
 DUTCH TILES.— 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. 
 
 (c) PIOUS MOTHER'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 many readers. 
 
 {d) 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. 
 
 After a very affecting meetirtg, " You 
 are near 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 soon, very soon I shall be 
 landed 
 
 * On that peaceful shore, 
 Where pilgrims meet to part no more.' " 
 
 " You have weathered many a storm 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, 
 and I 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 ! 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.' " 
 
 (e) 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, 
 
 * Now 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 pow- 
 er of practical maternal faith : 
 551 
 
28y 
 
 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 upon 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 isleep, 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. Teare 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 
 often 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. 
 
 ig) 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, 
 552 
 
 watching the people as they gradually 
 assembled for worship. The gentle- 
 man walked up to him, and said, 
 " Well, my friend, won't you go with 
 us to meeting ?" " No," said the 
 sailor bluntly. The gentleman, who, 
 from the appearance of the man, was 
 prepared for a repulse, mildly replied^ 
 " You look, my friend, a^ though you 
 had seen hard days : have you a mo- 
 ther ?" 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'll go to the meeting." He 
 crossed the street, entered the door of 
 the cliapel, 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 liad the first notice of 
 heaven, " a place to which good people 
 go,'^ and hell, " a place to which bad 
 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. When the 
 doctor related this circumstance, he ad- 
 ded, "that children should be always 
 encouraged to tell w^hat 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." 
 
 (i) PIOUS MOTHERS AND MIN- 
 ISTERS. — Several young men who 
 were associated in preparing for the 
 Christian ministry, felt interested in as- 
 certaining what proportion of their nunsi- 
 
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF. 
 
 asv 
 
 bcr 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 
 home, and, like the prodigal, had wan- 
 dered in sin and sorrow, yet they coulcT 
 not forget the impressions of childhood, 
 and each was eventually brought to 
 Jesus, and proved a mother's joy and 
 blessing. 
 
 ( j ) SPOT WHERE MJ MOTIJER 
 KNEELED. — Every one who has 
 thought on the subject, mu^ 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 Mebioir of Mrs. 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 thou,:2:htless 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 which I 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 over- 
 came me. I seemed 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 mother kneeled, and thanked God 
 that I had once a praying mother. And 
 
 oh ! if every parent could feel what I 
 felt then, I am sure they would pray 
 with their children as well as pray for 
 them. 
 
 (k) RANDOLPH 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 have 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.' " 
 
 (/) THE MOTHER'S HAND.— 
 When I 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. Before I 
 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, 1 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 1 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 the 
 553 
 
287 
 
 MOTHERS, PIOUS, 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- 
 lowed their infant footsteps witli 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 
 office 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 ofRce, which 
 554 
 
 he reputably sustained more than twenty 
 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-six of whom 
 were known to have made a Christian 
 profession ; nearly all between the ages 
 of ten and twenty. 
 
 {<)) 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- J 
 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 then I 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, j 
 Besides, I was a sort of hero ; I had be- l 
 guiled several of my associates into my ^ 
 
MURDERERS. 
 
 287, 2§§ 
 
 opinions, and I had to maintain a charac- 
 ter before them : but I could not divest 
 myself ot 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 difference between regeneration and 
 transubstantiation — I did. I knew there 
 was such a thing. I was afraid and 
 ashamed to laugh at it. Parental in- 
 fluence thus cleaves to a man — it ha- 
 rasses him — it throws itself constantly 
 in his way." 
 
 (q) MY MOTHER'S PRAYERS 
 AND COUNSELS.— A young man, 
 on whose mind the doctrines of religion 
 had 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 
 these 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 1 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 nai^J- 
 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 Weathersfield 
 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 had ever 
 made him feel serious, but what his mo- 
 ther said to him just before her death. 
 She resided in Trenton, New Jersey, 
 and was a sincere, warm-hearted Chris- 
 tian. When 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. 
 
 388. Misery, Detection and Puuishmcnt 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- 
 555 
 
2SS 
 
 MURDERERS. 
 
 |brn. Conformably to his usual prac- 
 tice, he prayed earnestly 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- 
 mon on it in the forenoon. Having re- 
 turned 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 tjie 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 tlie 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 suffocated 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 suffer 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 
 fbr 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. 
 
 553 
 
 ih) THE MURDERER AND HIS i 
 SINGULAR WOUND.— A gentleman ' 
 who was very ill, sending for Dr. Lake, 
 of England, told him tiiat 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 j 
 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 unwillinof to suffer 
 that, he went on to London. When 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- i 
 ed him, whether he knew the boy that I 
 struck the ball ? He answered, "About I 
 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 !' His face 
 I perfectly remember. That hoy it was 
 who struck the hall against me, which is ) 
 the cause of my death.^' 
 
 (c) MURDER TRACED TO THE 
 RIGHT SOURCE. — Nicholson, the 
 murderer of ,Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, at 1 
 Chiselhurst, in Kent, who paid the for- I 
 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 
 
MISERY, DETECTION, AND PUNISHMENT OF. 
 
 28§ 
 
 oiving way to the worst passions of the 
 human heart." 
 
 {d) 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 
 NAIL. — 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 his throwing 
 up a scull, 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 ?" " Yes." " Is she living ?" 
 "Yes." "What character does she 
 bear ?" "A very good one ; only her 
 neighbors reflect on her because she 
 married the day after her husband was 
 buried." 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- 
 denly opened the handkerchief, and 
 cried, in an authoritative voice, " Wo- 
 man, do you know this nail ?" She was 
 struck with horror at this unexpected 
 
 question, instantly acknowledged 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 Eugene 
 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, Flebrew, 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, but 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.— In 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 testimony of a scar 
 557 
 
298 
 
 MURDERERS. 
 
 on his wrist. Some time before, the 
 officers 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 compressed, 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 sleeve, 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 arrested him. 
 Dautun afterwards confessed, that being 
 quartered at Sedan, and without money, 
 he came to Paris to try some adventure. 
 Knowing that his brother had a large 
 558 
 
 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, Dautun cut up the body, tied it 
 up in four parcels as before mentioned, 
 secured the money, and retired. 
 
 He also confessed, that eleven months 
 before this he had murdered an 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 WADDING.— A M. Martin was . 
 murdered at Bilguy in France, which I 
 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 officers 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. 
 
MISERY, DETECTION, AND PUNISHMENT OF. 
 
 2§S 
 
 .{i) 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. 
 
 (j) 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 Waterford, 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. Wher- 
 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. 
 
 (k) MURDER REVEALED BY A 
 DREAM. — In the village of Manches- 
 ter, Vermont, R. Colvin, a man of res- 
 pectable connexions and character, sud- 
 denly and mj^steriously disappeared ; all 
 search and inquiry proved in vain, until 
 a person dreamed that he had appeared 
 to him, and informed him that he had 
 been murdered by two persons, whom 
 he named, and that he had been buried 
 in such a place, a few rods distant from 
 
 a sapling, bearing a particular mark, 
 which he minutely described. The 
 same dream occurred three times suc- 
 cessively before he awoke, and each 
 time the deceased seemed very solicit- 
 ous for him to follow. Upon awaking, 
 his feelings were wrought up to such a 
 degree, and he was so impressed with a 
 belief of the fact, that he determined to 
 collect some friends, and follow the di- 
 rections laid down in the dream. He 
 did so, and discovered, to his great sur- 
 prise, not only a tree marked precisely 
 as described, but also the appearance of 
 a grave ; and, upon digging, found a 
 human skeleton ! After this discovery, 
 Stephen and Jesse Brown, the persons 
 implicated in the dream, were appre- 
 hended and put in confinement, and, af- 
 ter a few days, confessed their crime. 
 They were tried, convicted, and sen- 
 tenced to be executed, on the 18th of 
 January, 1820. 
 
 (I) 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 champion; 
 and was occasioned by the following cir- 
 cumstances : — 
 
 Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of 
 559 
 
'SS§ 
 
 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 dcg ; 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 Macaire 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 towards him, growled, and flew 
 at him as usual. 
 
 In those times, when no positive proof 
 560 
 
 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 Notre 
 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 a 
 scaffold in the aisle of Notre Dame. 
 
 The above curious recital, is trans- 
 lated from the Memoirs sur les Duels, 
 and is confirmed by many judicious 
 critical writers, particularly Julius Sca- 
 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 Bagdad, with 
 several passengers on board. 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, 
 
MISERY, DETECTION, AND PUNISHMENT OF. 
 
 28S 
 
 the blacksmith came, he refused to do 
 what Ihey wanted, till he had the autho- 
 rity of the 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 
 brother." 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. 
 
 (o) 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 
 officer 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 the 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 
 36 
 
 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 ofticer, 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 ToboU 
 ski, in Siberia, who had deposited in a 
 purse of skin, which he wore 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 CONFESSED IN 
 A DREAM. — The following is trans- 
 lated from a respectable publication at 
 Basle, Switzerland : — 
 
 A person who worked in a brewery 
 quarreled with one of his fellow- work- 
 men, and struck him in such a manner 
 that he died upon the spot. No other 
 561 
 
38S 
 
 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, tfiat 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 ?" " 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 condiirn punishment. 
 
 (r) 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- 
 562 
 
 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. 
 His 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 
 
MUSIC. 
 
 2SS, 2S9 
 
 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 no one," answered the seaman. 
 " What ! not see that 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 Mutcham 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. 
 
 (s) FATHER AND MOTHER 
 MURDERING THEIR OWJST SON. 
 — A seafaring man called at a village 
 on the coast of Normandy, and asked for 
 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 showed 
 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. 
 
 {a) CHEERFUL CHURCH MUSIC. 
 — When the poet Carpani inquired of 
 his fi'iend 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 joy 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 
 
389 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 coast ; and on giving out the hymn at 
 the end of the service, which was the 
 I09th of the first book of Watts, 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 : " What a wretch must I be," 
 said he, " that I am prohibited from 
 joining in the praises of God !" 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. 
 
 (c) 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. Now she 
 delighted in the service of the sanctuary 
 and social religious meetings. 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 the 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, conducted her in 
 the most engaging manner, in order to 
 564 
 
 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 life so soon is gone ; 
 If now 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 ! 
 Where shall I find my destined place I 
 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 dollars. 
 
 (d) THE PIRATE AND THE 
 ZENAIDA DOVES.— The following 
 interesting fact is related by Audobon 
 in his Ornithological Biography. In 
 
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 liis 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 difficulties 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 
 CHOIR. — 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 the 
 
 offender in the gallery took the hint and 
 amended his manners. A thousand 
 times would I prefer the Precentor, as 
 I 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. 
 
 (/) 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 to 
 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 officer 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 
 officer 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 ac- 
 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 
 
2§9, 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 sufficient 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 
 
 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 cono;re":a- 
 tion as were wakeful enough to notice 
 passing events. 
 
 (0 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." 
 
 (j) THE CLEI^YMAN'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 friend 
 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, I call 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 ESTIMATE.— 
 
 Schiller, the German poet, had a patent 
 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 friend 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 
 friend might have answered, after this 
 566 
 
 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 hav€ 
 shed in battle !" A commoner replied, 
 " And what of the blood of the people 
 poured forth at the same time ? Wj 
 that water ?" 
 
NON-RESISTANCE. 
 
 291 
 
 NON-RESISTANCE * 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. 
 We 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 
 at peace with their fellows. 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.— Robert Barclay, 
 the celebrated apologist of the Quakers, 
 and Leonard Fell, a member of fhe 
 same Society, were severally attacked 
 by 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 Christ's precept, 
 *' Resist not evil," there 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 so little regarded ! 
 
 : times. Both faithfully adhered to their 
 j non-resistance principles, and both sig- 
 I nally triumphed. The pistol was lev- 
 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 ; his 
 pistol fell to his side ; and he fled from 
 the presence of the non-resistant hero 
 whom he could no longer confront. 
 
 (c) 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, 
 Fm so little.^^ 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 in 
 a million would so outrage his own na- 
 ture. 
 
 (d) REV. MR. LEE AND THE 
 GENERAL.— Says General P. of Vir- 
 ginia, " When I was a young man I 
 
 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 got 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 
 
 567 
 
291 
 
 NON-RESISTANCE. 
 
 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 before I 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! 
 
 On a beautiful morning in the early 
 spring, being from home on business, 1 
 saw, a few hundred yards before me, an 
 elderly looking man jogging slowly 
 along in a single gig. As soon as 1 
 saw him, it struck me, that's .Tesse Lee. 
 The name, the man, the sight of him, 
 I'ecalled 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 waxed strong. 
 I determined to execute my resolution 
 to the utmost ; and full of rage 1 spur- 
 red my horse, and was soon at the side 
 of the man that I felt of all others I 
 hated most. I accosted him rather 
 rudely with the question, " Are you not 
 a Methodist preacher ?" " I pass for 
 one," was the reply, and in a manner 
 that struck me as very meek. " Ain't 
 your name Jesse Lee ?" " Yes : that's 
 my name." " Do you recollect preach- 
 ing m the year at meeting. 
 
 house ?" " Yes ; very well." " Well, 
 
 do you recollect reproving a young man 
 
 for some misbehavior ?" After a short 
 
 568 
 
 pause for recollection, he replied, " 1 
 do." " Well," said I, " I am that young 
 man ; and I determined I would whip 
 you for it the first time I saw you. I 
 have never seen you from that day to 
 tliis ; and now I intend to carry out my 
 purpose." 
 
 As soon as I had finished speaking, 
 the old man stopped his horse, and look- 
 ing me full in the face, said, " You are 
 a younger man than I am. You are 
 strong and active ; and 1 am old and 
 feeble. 1 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 ! 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. I would 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 now old: few and 
 full of evil have been the days of the 
 years of my life, yet I am not without 
 hope m God. I have made my peace 
 with him who is the 'judge of the quick 
 and dead ;' and hope eie long to see 
 that good man of God with feelings very 
 different from those with which I met 
 him last." 
 
 (<?) 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 \.o protect the in- 
 habitants, issued a proclamation, direct- 
 ing them to leave their country : and 
 they did generally go. 
 
PREVENTS AND DISARMS AGGRESSION. 
 
 291 
 
 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 Nisbet, 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. When 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- 
 pletely disarmed them of their purpose. 
 They came forth, not against such per- 
 sons, but against their enemies. They 
 thirsted for the blood of those who had 
 
 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 WOULD 
 NOT FIGFIT.— " 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. 'Where are your soldiers?' 
 they asked. ' We have none,' was the 
 brief reply. ' But v/e have come to 
 take the town.' ' Well, my friends, it 
 lies before you.' ' But is there nobody 
 here to fight V ' 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 
 
391 
 
 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." 
 
 (h) INDIANS AND THE SHA^ 
 KERS.— About the year 1812, Indiana 
 ^^as 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. " Why," said the whites 
 afterwards to one of the Indian chiefs, 
 " why did you not attack the Shakers as 
 well as others '?" " 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." 
 
 (z) 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 ? 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." 
 
 0) 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 parry viewed them with 
 suspicion and dislike because they re- 
 fused to fight or to pay military taxes ; 
 and the fierce multitude of insurgents 
 570 
 
 deemed it sufficient cause of death, 
 that they would neither profess belief in 
 the Catholic religion nor help 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. Foreseeing calamity, they 
 had, nearly two years before the war 
 broke out, publicly destroyed all their 
 guns, and other weapons used for game, 
 But this pledge of pacific intentions was 
 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." 
 Not 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 as I have 
 a house, I will keep it open to succor 
 the helpless and distressed, whether 
 they belong to thy ranks, or to those of 
 thy enemies ! If my house is burned 
 I must be turned out with them, and 
 share their affliction." The fighter 
 turned away and did the Christian no 
 I harm. 
 
 
PREVENTS AND DISARMS AGGRESSION. 
 
 291 
 
 Whichever 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." 
 
 ik) 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." 
 
 (/) PACIFIC POLICY OF PENN. 
 — The case of William 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. "What !" 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 ?" 
 "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 whom I 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 ?" " 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 ? 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. Shail we 
 ascribe this to the personal tact of Wil- 
 liam Penn ? 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, fiercel)' 
 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 foes ? What else could 
 be expected from an Indian ? 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 
 jtwenty-seven years of age. His parish 
 I 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 
 572 
 
 part of the inhabitants were resolved to 
 oppose the designs of their excellent 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 sulfer 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 ho 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 ; " 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. 
 
 {b) HENRY C. WRIGHT AND 
 HIS ASSAILANT.— The following in- 
 cident in the life of Henry C. Wright 
 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 
 
TRANSFORMS AGGRESSORS INTO FRIENDS. 
 
 292, 293 
 
 assault, but proceeded with his remarks. 
 In a few moments the officer 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 ? I have been in agony all 
 night. I tliought 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, " Well, 
 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 ?" " Will you certainly give me 
 what 1 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 liim, 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. 
 Flereafter, get your living honestly." 
 
 Years rolled on. At length the good 
 preacher received a letter, containing 
 principal and interest, and a humble 
 confession of his sins, from the robber, 
 saying that his appeals waked up his 
 slumbering conscience, which had giv- 
 en him no rest till he had made both 
 restitution and confession, besides whol- 
 ly changing his course of life. 
 
 291. 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, a.s 
 they were familiarly called amongst ua 
 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 whis- 
 ky. When 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. When I 
 refused him, he would become very an- 
 gry and threaten to whip me, which I 
 told him he might do as soon as he 
 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- 
 tonishmcnt, 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. 
 
 (b) THE GENERAL'S EXPERI- 
 MENT WITH 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 sufficient 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 hour had almost arrived, and 
 there was no possibility of escape or de- 
 574 
 
 fence. In this extremity, he determined 
 on a bold experiment. With the aid of 
 the trader, tliough not without difficulty, 
 he succeeded in collecting the chiefs in 
 council ; but their menacing counte- 
 nances gave evidence 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 vv^as 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. 
 
 (c) 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 fiorhtin^s " 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 
 
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, 
 by 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. "Well," 
 says the brother, "if we must fight, 
 don't let us be like cats and dogs, fight- 
 ing 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, " Now 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 '?" " 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 ?" " 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. 
 
 294. Non-Resistance and Trust in God. 
 
 (a) THE PIOUS CAPTAIN AND 
 
 THE PIRATE SHIP.— Capt. S , 
 
 of W ■, 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. 
 
 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 of 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 ? 
 
 (h) QUAKERS IN THE FRENCH 
 AND INDIAN WAR.— 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. 
 
 NON-RESISTANCE. 
 
 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 of 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 ;) hut a 
 spirit of 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 
 ^576 
 
 HOUSE PRE- 
 
 remarkable case 
 
 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 " the 
 bloody, cruel Indians, lay by the way, 
 and killed her." 
 
 (c) QUAKER'S 
 SERVED.— A most 
 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 w'ere 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 descried, 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 V 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 righte- 
 ous. God Jias been a shield to thee in 
 battle, a wall of fire round about thee, a 
 very present help in time of need." 
 
NOVELS. 
 
 294, 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 iheir 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 rufRan band, hitherto breathing no- 
 thing but destruction and slaughter, were 
 struck with astonishment, at this novel 
 sight. Where 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 purloined a 
 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 Ferrar, 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 TESTL 
 MONY.— Dr. Goldsmith, who had him- 
 37 
 
 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." 
 
 (c) 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 had 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 
 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. 
 
 (d) 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. No 
 works ever produced so bad an effect 
 on my own mind. I did not expect to 
 
 find any irreligion in Miss Edgeworth's 
 writings. I was off my guard ; their 
 moral character disarmed me. I read 
 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 far 
 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. 
 
 (a) CECIL'S OBEDIENCE.— 
 When 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. While 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 
 Avhere he was ; on which his father, 
 suddenly recollecting that he had direct- 
 ed him to wait at a certain door, said, 
 578 
 
 " You may depend upon it, he is still 
 waiting where 1 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- 
 point him. 
 
 (b) FIRST STEP TOWARDS^ 
 RUIN.— It was stated, at a meeting ol 
 the American Prison Discipline Societ] 
 as the result of the examinations mac 
 by that institution into the history an( 
 career of the various criminals conf 
 
OMNIPRESENCE AND OMNISCIENCE OF GOD— PAPACY. 
 
 297, 398 
 
 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 
 D wight, whose opportunity for observa- 
 tion dad certainly been very great. 
 
 297. OMNIPRESENCE AND OMNISCIENCE OF GOD. 
 
 (a) GOD IS PRESENT.— The eel- 
 ebrated Linnteus 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, Niimen adest ; 
 — Live innocently, God is present. 
 
 (h) THIEF FORGETTING TO 
 LOOK UP. — A man, who was in the 
 habit of going to a neighbor's corn-fieM 
 to steal the grain, one day took his son 
 with him, a boy eight years of age. 
 The father told him to hold tlie 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 hoy, " you forgot to 
 look somewhere else." The man drop- 
 ped the bag in a fWght, and said, " which 
 way,' child ?" supposing he had seen 
 some one. " Tou 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. 
 
 (c) WHERE AND WHERE NOT 
 IS GOD ? — A child, six years of age, 
 being introduced into company, was 
 askod, by a clergyman, where God was, 
 with the offer of an orange. " Tell 
 2ne," replied the boy, " where he is not, 
 and I will give you two." 
 
 (d) 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?" "To worship God." 
 " Pray, whether is your God a great or 
 a little God?" "He is both, sir." 
 " How can he be both ?" " 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. 
 
 298. 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. Canierhury, 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. 
 
 gave him a little money to buy some 
 provisions, narrowly escaped being 
 brought to trial for it. 
 
 (5) THE IRISH LAD AND THE 
 PRIEST.— The following striking an- 
 ecdote of a papal priest and a clergy- 
 man's son, was related by William 
 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 ! Do you 
 know, I'd eat meat nine Fridays run- 
 ning to coax you into Maynooth ?" 
 " Would you ?" 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 !" 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 ! 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 ! the boy so bewilder- 
 ed as to forget restoring the coin ; the 
 priest so frenzied with religious ardor 
 580 
 
 as to forget he was before a child. 
 There 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 horse 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 
 Irtved then, and loves much now. He 
 lives to thank England's people for 
 tlieir zeal in that Society's behalf, and 
 to Urge them to continue in the noble 
 work of giving Irishmen the Bible ; of 
 giving <>,hildren their Father's will in a 
 copy they can understand ; of giving 
 the bondmen of Rome the Magna Char- 
 ta of Protes\ant 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 ?" 
 " To whip you heretics to death." 
 " What would you have done with the 
 young children ?" " 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." 
 
 (d) 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 
 
 I off; and that he would not spare even 
 
FANATICISM AND CRUELTY. 
 
 298 
 
 his own children if they entertained 
 sentiments contrary to the Catholic 
 Church." 
 
 (e) 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 1 
 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." 
 
 ig) DRUNK WITH THE BLOOD 
 OF THE SAINTS.— According 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 Waldenses 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, L^. 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 ! — What ! 
 you pretend to be a good Catholic, and 
 have a vile Jieretic 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 then 
 sent a person, who demanded and real- 
 ly took from her, her valuable treasure, 
 her Bible. 
 
 She also sent some of her children to 
 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 himself tore 
 the little books to pieces, leaf after leaf: 
 and threw them into the flames, saying, 
 thus we serve heretic books, and thus 
 ought all heretics 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 
 
29$ 
 
 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." 
 
 (j) 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 which 
 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 lonnr before intellicrence 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 Notre 
 Dame; before that celebrated cathe- 
 dral, which typifies the majesty of the 
 Roman Catholic Church. The whole 
 dTthe clergy were convened, and a de- 
 582 
 
 gree of pomp was displayed equal to 
 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 rouse 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 declaring 
 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 peaceably, a man 
 whose name history has not deigned to 
 transmit to us, — "the hermit of Livry." 
 (k) 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 
 
HOSTILITY TO THE BIBLE. 
 
 399 
 
 met two shaven-crowned Jesuits in their 
 long cloaks — one bearing an image of 
 the Virgin Mary, and the other 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 scuffle. 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 Ame- 
 rica. 
 
 299. Hostility to the Bible. 
 
 (a) ADVICE OF THE BOHEMIAN 
 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 Termula?, 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 
 which 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 a 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. — In 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 shuddered; 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. 
 
 (c) ENOUGH BAD BOOKS AL- 
 READY.— The following is from '' Les 
 Archives du Christianistne,'' 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, the Romish minister of a neighbor- 
 ing parish seized a volume, declaring 
 that there were enough of bad books in 
 the world already, and 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." 
 — Who 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 W., of 
 Corofin, was passing by some men and 
 boys who were engaged in breaking 
 stones for a new road, 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 ?" said 
 priest W. " 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 ?" " 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 W. 
 rode away without making any reply. 
 
 (e) THE ARROGANT AVOWAL. 
 — An English officer, 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 English officer, who was acquainted 
 with him, asked the reason of this, to 
 which he gave the following truly 
 Popish reply: — "J teach the people 
 every thing that is necessary for them 
 to know I" 
 
 584 
 
 (/) 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 wo- 
 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 olf 
 immediately to Montreal, and, with the 
 priest's twenty-five dollars, purchased 
 twenty-five new Bibles, for herself and 
 her neighbors. 
 
 m. 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 ; btit 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 of Mexico, ^^ which 
 she enjoys to the present day. This is 
 the origin of the Virgin de Gaudaloupe, 
 conformably to the records of the church 
 
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 alos (Agava Ameri- 
 cana) and woven very wide apart. 
 The Indians and the Creoles say, that 
 the 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 White, " I will tell 
 you what happened at Madrid, during 
 a residence of three years which I 
 made in that mast 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 
 of a Virgin Mary. Her screams of 
 horror at the profanation which she be- 
 held scared away the children, and the 
 
 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 a 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 cliapel 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." 
 
 (c) 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 effigy of an eminent saint ; it was 
 accordingly set up io one of the churches, 
 
 5S5 
 
300 
 
 PAPACY. 
 
 Is Don Mi cruel the Sover- 
 The image nodded assent, 
 
 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 ?" The 
 saint shook his head as a negative in- 
 dication, 
 eign ?" 
 
 This was repeated on various occasions 
 to increased congregations, and was 
 considered by the multitude as an as- 
 tonishing miracle. 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 Sfbrza 
 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 ?) 
 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 Grod. 
 
 " 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 Jesu 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 
 586 
 
 Jesus in her arms. With this decision 
 the supreme pontiff, Leo XII, has sig- 
 nified his approbation in his apostolic 
 brief, (query, bull ?) 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 order 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 a gentleman on the 
 continent, in 1825, at half past four in 
 the morning, to see an exhibition, v/hich 
 is made at one of the first cathedrals in 
 Rome, (St. Mary the greater,) of tiie 
 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 was seen lying 
 in the manger, with rays of gold round 
 its head, and two oxen feeding near it. 
 On one side, the virgin mother, with 
 clasped hands, was worshiping iho 
 child ; and on the opposite side was 
 
INDULGENCES. 
 
 301 
 
 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 1 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 ! 
 
 SOI. 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, Leo 
 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 sliilUngs was sufficient to purchase 
 the pardon of sins, and the ransom of a 
 soul from purc^atory ! 
 
 {h) 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 commit in 
 future ?" " 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 road 
 he would probably travel, waited for him 
 in ambush at a convenient place, attack- 
 
 ed and robbed him ; then beat him 
 soundly with a stick, 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?" asked the judge. 
 " Yes," answered the shoemaker. 
 " What have you done with her ?" "I 
 buried her and commended her soul to 
 God." "But have you had a mass 
 said for the salvation of her soul ?" " 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 slioemaker, 
 " 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. 
 
 {(l) CROSS IN SWITZERLAND. 
 — In Switzerland, says Bishop Wilson, 
 we actually saw on a cross, by the road 
 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 Pater, 
 587 
 
301—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. I stopped, from 
 mere curiosity, to see what it was. It 
 was an advertisement of a new edition 
 of the History of the Miraculous Image 
 of Notre 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. I went 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 ! 
 
 SOi Confession and Absolution. 
 
 (a) FREE SPOKEN AMBASSA- 
 DOR. — After the death of Charles 
 VI, 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 
 hearkep 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 ?" " 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 
 588 
 
 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, " 1 have 
 stolen, and what shall I do ?" 
 
 " Restore," said the priest, " the thing 
 you have stolen, to its rightful owner." 
 
 " Do you take it ?" 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. 
 
 §01 Inqoisilion. 
 
 (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. No wo- 
 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 
 
INQUISITION. 
 
 S03 
 
 when my university friends drew me 
 into topics above those of domestic talk. 
 [ 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 hnr sorrows : and, to my ut- 
 ter horror, I learned, that suspecting 
 me of anti-catholic principles, my mo- 
 ther was distracted by the fear that she 
 might be obliged to accuse me to the 
 Inquisition, if I incautiously uttered 
 some 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 ? 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 ? 
 
 {h) 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 admiral 
 said, when he was a captain, he was 
 cruising in the Mediterranean. While 
 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 
 board, 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, bi*t 
 he was refused. Another, in the name 
 of his holiness the popCj claimed him, 
 but the captain did not know him or 
 any other master but his own sovereign, 
 King George. At length a third hoJi/ 
 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 the 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 question 
 was unworthy of the English name or 
 of his protection. The holy brother 
 was elated ; he thought his errand was 
 accomplished. While 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 !" " Have him 
 away !" replied the captain. " Oh no, 
 my good captain !" " Have him away ! 
 I'll, teach 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. When 
 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." 
 
 804. Praying to and for the Dead. 
 
 (a) BEATIFICATION OF ST. 
 .TULiAN. — The following account is 
 given in a letter from Rome, dated May 
 '28, in the year 1825 :— 
 
 " On Whitmonday was beatified, in 
 St. Peter's at Rome, a Spanish Francis- 
 590 
 
 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 pamt- 
 ings, representing several miracles as- 
 cribed to him while living, as well as 
 after his decease. One of them afTord- 
 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 Deum 
 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." 
 
 (h) BUONAVANTURA'S BEA- 
 TIFICATION.— 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 loaves 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 
 
MIRACLES. 
 
 304, 305 
 
 beatification, which Dr. M. says the 
 church of Rome considers " as entitling 
 the 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 Is. 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. 
 
 ( d) 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. When 
 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 take 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, 1824. 
 
 *• My beloved Nicholas, — 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 rehel 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 Father ! !" 
 
 805. Miracles. 
 
 (a) GREAT CURE BY RELICS 
 OF DOGS AND CATS.— When 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 relics 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 demoniao 
 instantly became well. The peoplo, 
 called out, "A Miracle/" and the 
 prince, lifting up his hands and eyes to 
 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 
 trifles, 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. 
 
 (i) 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 ! 
 
 (c) 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 got rich by his inge- 
 nuity. 
 
 (d) THE MONK AND THE MAG- 
 PIE. — St. Anthony is thought to have 
 
 592 
 
 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 slowly, 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, i 
 is the following, concerning Dionysius, 
 the Roman saint : 
 
 Dionysius, having now passed his 
 hundredth year, was struck with tljc 
 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. Ociohris. 
 
 Think of this, reader ; " a man run- 
 ning two miles with his head in his ^ 
 hands !" 
 
 (/) PLAYING THE DEVIL.— A 
 singular occurrence took place about ( 
 1824, in a village called Artes, near 
 
MIRACLES. 
 
 805 
 
 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 
 ^v•ithout mercy, and it is therefore use- 
 less for me to confess him !" " But who 
 told you that my brother was damned ?" 
 " Who told me ?" replied the curate ; 
 " why, God himself!" " What !" cried 
 the astonished Spaniard, " has God spok- 
 en to you ?" '• Yes," answered the cu- 
 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 constitutionalist 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 interring 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'clock 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 coffin 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 officiate, 
 and it was shortly after discovered, on 
 38 
 
 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 the 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 had 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 in 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 
 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 
 to 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 
 Edinburgh to beg publicly, and make 
 himself familiarly 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. Fie 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 
 the celebrated Mr. Maclaurin, professor 
 of mathematics in the university of Edin- 
 burgh, which most impressively illus- 
 trates the implicit confidence of the Ro- 
 594 
 
 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 !" 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 drop 
 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," 
 
PURGATORY. 
 
 306, 307 
 
 said the man, " and if you love me as 
 you say, you should 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. 
 
 (c) BELIEVING IN AN IMPOSSI- 
 BILITY, — " Do you believe in transub- 
 stantiation ?" said a Protestant to a Pa- 
 pist. "Yes, I do," was the reply. — 
 " Why," said the other, " the thing is 
 impossible." " And I," said the Papist, 
 " believe it because it is impossible !" 
 
 (d) 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 
 Grey, that being, when very young, at 
 Newhall, in Essex, the seat of Mary, 
 afterwards queen, and walking near the 
 chapel with lady Anne Wharton, she 
 observed her companion, as they passed, 
 bow to the elements on the altar. Af- 
 fecting surprise at the motion of her 
 friend, she asked, "Is the lady Mary in 
 the chapel ?" " No," replied her com- 
 panion, " I bend to Him who made us 
 all." "How is that?" 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 Mary's hatred to this love- 
 
 y woman. 
 
 307. Pnrgatory. 
 
 (a) HABEAS ANIMAMFOR PUR- 
 GATORY.— The Rev. Blanco White 
 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. 
 
 (b) "I'LL TAKE BACK MY 
 MONEY. — An Italian noble being at 
 church one day, and finding a priest 
 who begged for the souls in purgatory, 
 gave him a piece of gold. " Ah ! 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, thai, " 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 to 
 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 
 
307 
 
 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 V 
 * Oh,' replied the confessor, ' have pa- 
 tience and go to purgatory.' 
 
 " 1 have never detected this man in a 
 falsehood, and I have no doubt he told 
 me the truth concerning this affair." 
 
 (d) DISTRICTS IN PURGATO- 
 RY. — A woman and two children, says 
 Dr. Brownlee, called on a lady in 
 Broadway, New- York, to ask alms. 
 The woman was dressed in black, and 
 said that she was left a widow, with the 
 children 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 mo- 
 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 I have not the money, and 
 what can I do for the soul of my poor 
 husband ?" 
 
 596 
 
 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 back 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 off 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 ! no other priest but my- 
 self can pray him out, for he is in my 
 district .'" 
 
 (e) INSCRIPTION AT MENTZ. 
 — In the year 1738, 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. 
 
 " A full release for the poor soicls 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 sec- 
 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 
 
RELICS. 
 
 307, SOS 
 
 each time deliver a soul out of the fire 
 of purgatory." 
 
 (/•) THE ARMENIAN'S REA- 
 SONING.— Rev. Mr. Dwight of Con- 
 etantinople 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 
 difficulty 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 sutler 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, dtc. And this shall be 
 the case up to the very time when the 
 judgment day shall come. At that day 
 what will be done with those who have 
 not served out their time in purgatory ? 
 For example, what will be done with 
 those who died the week or day pre- 
 vious to the judgment ? 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 purgato- 
 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." 
 
 ^08. Relics. 
 
 (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 Noah'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 11,000 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, offer- 
 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. We 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 ! 
 
 {b) SINGULAR RELICS.—We 
 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 were 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 
 597 
 
30S, 309 
 
 PAPACY. 
 
 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 a Becket's pen- 
 knife and boots, with as many pieces of 
 the Savior's cross as Avould make a 
 large whole one, a piece 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. 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 * * * * ^^Q 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 the 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 
 598 
 
 nails by which he was fastened to the 
 cross. 8. And lastly, some sweat 
 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 tlie 
 Sacristan among other marvels, a dirty 
 opaque phial. After eyeing it some 
 time, the traveler said, " Do you call 
 this a relic ?" " Sir," said the Sacris- 
 tan indignantly, " it contains some of 
 the darkness that was spread over the 
 land of Egypt." 
 
 §09. 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 : 
 
 " Spaniards, ascend to heaven." 
 (h) NUNNERY AT BARDS- 
 TOWN. — 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 part 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 to 
 
MORAL TENDENCY OF PAPACY. 
 
 309 
 
 enter upon the noviciate for a conven- 
 tual life : and finally she became a nun. 
 The " Lady Superior " immediately be- 
 gan to explain 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 might speedily 
 expect a visit from one of 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 fisjure dressed in white enter 
 her dormitory. She instantly sat up, 
 and began to cross herself, and to mut- 
 ter her Ave Marys. The " White 
 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 " White 
 robed Angels from heaven." 
 
 (c) 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 priest of her parents deprived 
 them of the partial Sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper, and declared that he 
 would continue to do so, until they had 
 prevailed upon their daughter to return 
 to their church — he also expressed a 
 
 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 to 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 unaffected 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. 
 
 Who 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. 
 
 (d) WHERE NUNS PUT THEIR 
 CPilLDREN.— 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 
 curiosity 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. 
 
 (e) 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 occurr(*d 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 
 to attempt to resist ; and being shown 
 to her room, behold, there was his once 
 
 600 
 
 healthy and promising daughter, with an 
 infant. His indignation was so aroused, 
 that he uttered some threats in regard 
 to the safety of the estabJisliment ; and 
 tiie next morning not an individual was 
 found there." 
 
 (/) SINGULAR METHOD OF 
 PROSELYTING.— 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 I'ecantation 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, be showed her the tonsure or 
 shaven crown, which is a distinguishing 
 mark of popish priests. 
 
 SIO. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) DYING WORDS OF POPE 
 PIUS v.— It is said of Pius Quintus, 
 that when dying he cried out in despair : 
 " When I was in low condition, I had 
 some hopes of salvation ; but when I 
 was advanced to be a cardinal, 1 greatly 
 doubted it ; but since I came to the 
 popedom, I have no hope at all." 
 
 (h) PAPAL INSPIRATION.— A 
 Roman Catholic cure, 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 the Bible ; if 
 the apostles had lefl 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 successors?" 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 310 
 
 " Because the apostles were inspired 
 by the Holy Ghost." 
 
 " Well ! and we too are inspired." 
 
 " Are you inspired ?" 
 
 " Yes ! I repeat — We too are in- 
 spired !" 
 
 " Then why do you require to be 
 further instructed in the college of the 
 Jesuits ?" 
 
 The priest was confounded. 
 
 (c) SURPRISE AT THE TRUE 
 VERSION.— The Rev. 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." 
 
 (d) 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." When 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. " What !" 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?" 
 
 (e) ST. JANARIUS AND THE 
 HORSES. — We 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 journeying 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 
 intercession 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 
 putting his whole trust in its power, set 
 off from 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 got 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, they 
 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 ?" The 
 nobleman ceased moaning, and expired 
 in silence. " When a Christian," adds 
 the pious Bishop Home, " thinks his suf- 
 ferings for sin, in sickness, or pain, «&;c., 
 intolerable, let him remember those of 
 his Lord, endured patiently on that bed 
 of sorrow, the cross, and he will think 
 so no longer." 
 
 (h) 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?" "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 now no desire but after heavenly 
 things. I have learnt more divinity in 
 these ten days, than in fifty years be- 
 fore. This body is feeble, but the spirit 
 602 
 
 is strong and enriched. Far be it from 
 me that I should murmur. How small 
 are these pains in comparison of that 
 grace, through which I bear, with a 
 quiet mind, whatsoever it pleaseth God 
 to lay upon me! The body, indeed, 
 sutlers, but the soul is comforted and 
 filled abundantly." 
 
 {d) 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 click 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 
 
PATIENCE. 
 
 311 
 
 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- 
 ly upon her poor child, writhing in tor- 
 ture 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 attending 
 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 hast. Day afler 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 affliction did not at times seem 
 greater than she could bear, ' O ! 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 
 probably have lost my immortal soul. 
 I see only his kindness and love. The 
 sweet communion I have with my Sav- 
 
 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 not 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 V She had hard- 
 ly recovered her exhausted breath, but 
 replied with great decision, ' By the 
 grace of God / 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 
 dross to refine away, and why should I 
 wish against his will V 
 
 " 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 noticed some bottles standing 
 upon a small table, and asked her if she 
 found any relief 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. 
 
 drop.' ' Does it enable you to sleep V I 
 ' O no,' she replied, ' I have not known 
 sleep for a very long time.' ' What !' 
 I cried, ' do you never rest V 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 frequently 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 I was 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 CHRIST.— 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. Negrino 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 suffer 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 
 on me a pair of handcuffs, so strait that 
 604 
 
 they entered into the flesh, and deprived 
 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 bonds 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, 
 1 sunk to the ground. ' My brother,' 
 said he, ' if you are a Christian, why do 
 you distress yourself thus ? Do you 
 know that a leaf cannot fall to the ground 
 without tlie 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, 
 1.560, he was led to the conventual 
 church of Minerva, to hear his proceao 
 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 ? The 
 boy replied, that would hereafter appear. 
 On this, the father being enraged, beat 
 his son ; who bearing it patiently, and 
 without complaining, said, " This have I 
 learned — to endure a parent's anger." 
 
1^ 
 
 PATRIOTISM. 
 
 312 
 
 312. PATRIOTISM. 
 
 (a) THE ROMAN AMBASSA- 
 DORS.— Ptolemy Philadelphus, king 
 of Egypt, having sent to desire tlie 
 friendship of the Roman people, an em- 
 bassy was dispatched from Rome the 
 following year, in return for the civili- 
 ties of Ptolemy. The ambassadors were 
 Q. Fabius 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 
 kinor likewise havincr 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 suffer 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. Where 
 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 Paoll to Mr. 
 
 Boswell, when he visited Corsica. " A 
 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 V 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 ? 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, 1 
 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, howeifer, 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 Kostro- 
 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- 
 son more able to govern the people than 
 her son. She was informed that, hav- 
 ing decided, the nobles would not revoke 
 their choice. " Well, 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 difficult 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 
 Washington'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 wielding 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 ; ancl 
 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 Washington 
 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 Washington ; 
 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. 
 What was the result ? 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 aflfair, 
 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 kind- 
 ness in my power ; but as President of 
 the United States, I can do nothing." 
 
 606 
 
PEACE-MAKERS. 
 
 313 
 
 313. PEACE-MAKERS. 
 
 (a) TRUE PEACE-MAKER.— 
 
 When Mr. Welch accepted of the call 
 to Ayr, he found the wickedness of the 
 peopleTand their hatred to religion so 
 great, that no one would let him a house, 
 till Mr\^hn St^.war|:. an eminent Chris- 
 tian, and some time provost of Ayr, ac- 
 commodated him with an apartment in 
 his house, and became his lasting friend. 
 Mr. Welch 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. "Then 
 all was right, I am sure ;" and in this 
 opinion the whole party concurred, and 
 the disputation ceased. 
 
 (c) PACIFIC MINISTER.— George 
 Wishart, 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 Mauchline, 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 
 Wishart 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 
 
 PERJURY. 
 
 314. PERJURY. 
 
 (a) FORSWEARING A DEBT.— At ' 
 
 a Justice's Court, heldat 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 affirmation 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 comer 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 
 608 
 
 not retire from conscious guilt. He took 
 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 th^m 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. 
 
 (h) 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 melancholy, 
 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 office 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 
 
PERSECUTION— PERSECUTORS, END OF. 
 
 311—316 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) 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- 
 out 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 Newbury ; and when the time 
 approached, his adversaries greatly tri- 
 umphed in their expected success. But 
 
 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 wlio lived 
 at Cromast, was prevented by a violent 
 disease, of which he subsequently 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 
 exclaiminor against his ingratitude and 
 perjury, and refused to go. So when 
 Mr. Stennett came to Newbury, neither 
 prosecutor or witnesses appearing 
 against him, ho was of course dis- 
 charged. 
 
 315. PERSECUTION. 
 
 (a) DIOCLESIAN'S CONFES- 
 SION. — Dioclesian, the last and the 
 worst of the Roman persecuting emper- 
 ors, 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. 
 
 (b) 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 Ghrist ! What 
 is this for a poor worm ? Such honor 
 have not all his saints. Both the de- 
 grees which I took in the University, 
 have not set me so high as the honor of 
 becoriiing 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 
 
 in a signal nmnner upon him ; for not J trails and bowels ; a violent colic, and 
 39 609 
 
 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- 
 
316 
 
 PERSECUTORS, 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- 
 pers. 
 
 (b) DEATH OF JULIAN.— The 
 Roman Emperor Julian, a determined 
 enemy of Christianity, was mortally 
 wounded in a war with the Persians. 
 Jn this condition, we are told that he 
 filled his hand with blood, and casting 
 it into the air, said, '" O Galilean ! thou 
 hast conquered." During this expedi- 
 tion, one of Julian'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 Julian's death. 
 
 (c) 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 
 610 
 
 and persecuting monarch, (witness 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 ! — what 
 murders ! — I know not where I am ! — 
 how will all this end ? — what shall I 
 do ? — I am lost forever ! — I know it !" 
 
 (e) THE EARL'S BOAST.— Fe- 
 lix, earl of Wurtemburg, 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. 
 
 (/) 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 bit- 
 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 
 
PERSECUTORS, END OF. 
 
 9WS 
 
 he kept his religion to himself. In his 
 menaces 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 
 by 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 ejected 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." 
 
 (/i) 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 be 
 set on fire. He delayed sitting down to 
 his dinner till he received the desired 
 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- 
 quentl)'- 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 
 
31T 
 
 PHYSICIANS. 
 
 blasphemy -and filthiness, and gave up 
 the ghost with curses in his mouth, in 
 terrible and inexpressible torments." 
 
 What were the sufferings of the mar- 
 tyrs compared with these ? 
 
 317. PHYSICIANS. 
 
 (a) HUMANITY OF WALKER. 
 
 — The following anecdote of Dr. Walk- 
 er, well known as the director of the 
 London Jennerian 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 acquEtintance 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 he found 
 the benevolent individual to be Dr. John 
 612 
 
 Walker, who was himself almost ex- 
 hausted, having been thus nobly em- 
 ployed from day-break, without any 
 assistance." 
 
 {h) FOTHERGILL'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 50Z. 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 
 withovit hesitation in future difficulties. 
 
 (c) THE SURGEON'S REPLY.— 
 M. Boudovi, 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 Motel 
 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." 
 
 (d) DR. SMITH'S METHOD.— 
 The benevolent and eccentric Dr. Smith 
 
PHYSICIANS. 
 
 317 
 
 when established in a practice equal to 
 that of any physician in London, did 
 what few physicians perhaps in great 
 practice would have done. He set 
 apart two days for the poor in each loeek. 
 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. I often 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 
 affluent 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. 
 
 (/) " WILL YOU TRUST MY 
 FATHER ?"— An aged Christian who 
 had long been an invalid and vvas 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: 7 may safely trust 
 Him:^- 
 
 (g) GOLDSMITH'S PATIENT— 
 A poor woman understanding that Dr. 
 Goldsmith had studied physic, 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 
 I a remedy superior to any thing Galen 
 I or his tribe could administer. 
 
 (/i)THE TWO PHYSICIANS.— 
 Is it possible, says a writer in the Amer- 
 ican Messenger for 1847, for physicians 
 in full practice to be as regular in at- 
 j tendance on public worship as other 
 j men ? That physicians frequently 
 j plead their business as an excuse for 
 I neo-lectinff a rejiular attendance in the 
 house of God is certainly true, but is 
 I this a valid plea ? does their business 
 justify their neglect? 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. Arc you in the habit of meet- 
 ing your consultations punctually ? 
 
 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 
 it a rule punctually and promptly to meet 
 
 my consultations, and I feel that I have 
 at least two every Sabbath in the house 
 of God, and God who loveth the gates 
 of Zion 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 WITH 
 THE 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." 
 
 {h) EFFECTS OF POWER ON 
 NERO. — The beginning of Nero'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 
 614 
 
 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 ?" Arbitra- 
 ry power is dangerous, and who shall 
 be trusted with it ? 
 
 (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 
 
POWER, ARBITRARY, CORRUPTING INFLUENCE OF 
 
 318 
 
 his feelings and conduct towards these 
 slaves, but the fact that over them he 
 exercised arbitrary power 1 
 
 (d) 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 rennained 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 screams ! !" — and 
 then she laughed almost convulsively at 
 the recollection. 
 
 What but the exercise of despotic 
 power could have thus steeled her sen- 
 sibilities and corrupted her mind ? 
 
 (e) WEST INDIA PLANTER— 
 A planter of the West 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 
 brought from Africa, and who had been 
 
 purchased by the planter the day before. 
 This slave, the moment he savv 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 
 such atrocities. And why produce such 
 615 
 
Sl§, S19 
 
 POWER, VANITV OF. 
 
 results? Because it placed arbitrary 
 power in the master's hand, making 
 him a despot on the small scale. 
 
 (/) SELLING ONE'S OWN 
 CKILD. — A person who resided in a 
 slaveholding country, sold a black wo- 
 man and her mulatto child to a negro 
 trader. The woman knew 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, 
 
 she interrogated him as follows : " Well, 
 sir, I am sold, am I ?" " Yes," was 
 the reply. She continued — " This gen- 
 tleman, I suppose, then, is my master." 
 He answered in the affirmative. " Well, 
 now," she proceeded, " I will tell you to 
 your ftice, that you are one of tiie most 
 wicked, unmanly, cold-hearted crea- 
 tures, that I ever heard of. Here, sir, 
 is your own child — ijour owji Jle.sfi and 
 blood — which, 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. 
 
 319. POWER, VANITY OF. 
 
 (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. 
 
 (b) GILIMEX VICTORIOUS.— Gi- 
 limex, king of the Vandals, when he 
 was led in triumph by Belisarius, crie 1 
 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 
 616 
 
 and sudden an elevation should cause 
 Menzikoft' 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- 
 to shone in meridian splendor upon Al- 
 exander Menzikoff, was now Hist 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 Menzikoff was even 
 more rapid than his rise. As he had 
 seldom shown mercy, so little was shown 
 to him. His banishment to Berezof was 
 
PRAYER. 
 
 320 
 
 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 aifected 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 
 
 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 PRAYER.-SCKIPTURAL 
 PRAYER. 
 
 320. 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 
 foith. 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. Fie 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. 
 
 (b) 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 ol 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 
 10 hear him proclaim the everlas'ting 
 gospel. " It is," said the preacher, " no 
 fiction ; that child, that prodigal youth, 
 that preacher, is he who now addresses 
 you." 
 
 (c) GOOD REASON FOR PRAY- 
 ING. — A little girl, about four years 
 of age, being asked, " Why 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 ?" 
 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 regard 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." " Why, massa," re- 
 plied Jack, " I just fall flat on the pro- 
 mise, and I pray right up." We re- 
 commend Jack's method to all despond- 
 ing Christians, as containing, in sub- 
 stance, all that can be properly said on 
 
 618 
 
 the subject. Take ground on the pro- 
 mises of God, and plead them in the 
 prayer of faith — pray " right up." 
 
 §21. Praying with Submission. 
 
 (a) BOLINGBROKE AND LADY 
 HUNTINGDON.— 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 if I 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 I, 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 perfl^ctly restored. 
 
 M, Praying with Importunity 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 remained 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 
 
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, " What shall I do to 
 be saved ?" 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. 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c) " 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?" "I prayed." 
 " Well, but how did you pray ?" 
 " Why, sir, I begged." 
 
 323. Praying with Constancy and Per- 
 severance. 
 
 (a) "PRAY WITHOUT CEAS- 
 ING. " — 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, " What ! 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. " 
 " Well, 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 ? " " O yes, 
 sir. " " What ! when you have so 
 many things to do? " " 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. " " Well, sir, " said 
 the girl, " when I jfirst 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 day. When 
 I begin to kindle the fire, I pray, that 
 God's work may revive in my soul ; 
 and as I 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 Godi>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 hid 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. 
 
 (h) WHITEFIELD'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 lives ; remarking 
 that he had had a brother, for whose 
 spiritual welfare he had used every 
 means. He had warned him and pray- 
 ed for him ; and apparently to no pur- 
 pose, till a ^e\Y 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 man 
 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 Jesus — " There- 
 fore, " said Mr. Whitefield, " 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 
 ffom 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. E^ had 
 often carried her troubles and sorrows 
 to the throne of grace, and laid them 
 before 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, 
 they jointly agreed to spend one hour 
 daily 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. 
 Oh, must they be for ever miserable ? 
 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 
 loaded 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- 
 tal distress of her husband. Sleep had 
 departed from his eyes; distress and 
 anguish had seized his soul, for the 
 prayers of these females had come up 
 in remembrance before the throne of 
 God ; and the man who could once 
 ridicule the tender anxieties of a dis- 
 620 
 
 tressed wife, was 4k)w upon his knees 
 in the greatest agony. Now, with ear- 
 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 same 
 errand, to tell her what God was doing 
 for her own husband. 
 
 Thus after ten years' perseverance 
 in calling mightily upon God, tliese 
 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. 
 
 324, 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 netir 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. 
 While the prayer of the Pharisee was 
 read, the poor Hottentot thought within 
 himself, " This is a good man ; there is 
 nothing for me;" but when his master 
 came to the prayer of the Publican — 
 God be merciful to me a sinner — " This ' 
 suits me," he cried ; " now I know how 
 to pray !" 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 ! — 
 he has been merciful to me, a sinner." 
 
NATURE OF PRAYER. 
 
 324, 325 
 
 (h) 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- 
 nnend itself to the hearts of those who 
 walk with God : " If the Lord will be 
 pleased to grant nne 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 ;' 
 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. 
 §S5. Praying without Submission. 
 
 {a) THE BOY AND HIS DEAD 
 BIRD. — " What occasions that melan- 
 choly look ?" 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." 
 
 (b) 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. When 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. Fie 
 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 Wed- 
 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, I scorn 
 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, but 
 621 
 
325, 326 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 was filled with trifling unconcern. He I 
 frankly said that he had no hope of be- I 
 ing better in his character, and that, on i 
 the contrary, he was satisfied she should | 
 grow worse. The next morning he was i 
 visited by Dr. Jekyl, who asked him ! 
 whether, during the whole time he had ! 
 been confined in Newgate, he had once | 
 bowed his knees to the great God, mak- j 
 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 j 
 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 exceedingly 
 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 1 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 very distinctly in my 
 punishment ; but must own that God is 
 righteous in all his ways, and holy in 
 all his works." 
 
 (c) "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 
 622 
 
 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 bear if's. 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-and-twenty ! Oh ! 
 it is good to say, ' Not my will, but 
 thine be done.' " 
 
 S26. Vnrioas Examples. 
 
 (a) PRAYER WITHOUT EF- 
 FORT. — At a boarding school in the 
 
 vicinity of London, a Miss , one of 
 
 the scholars, was remarked for repeating 
 her lessons well ; a school-fellow rather 
 idly inclined, said to her one day, 
 " How is it that you always say your 
 lessons so perfectly ?" She replied, " I 
 always pray that I may say my lessons 
 well." "Do you?" 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 1 prayed that I 
 might say it." 
 
 {b) 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 
 
NATURE OF PRAYER. 
 
 326 
 
 talking never goes any higher than the 
 ceiling ; the God of love never admits 
 it as prayer.^'' 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 {d) OBJECTS OF PRAYER.— A 
 gentleman conversing with his friend re- 
 specting the exercises of his own mind, 
 before and after conversion, observed 
 that there was a great difference as to 
 the ohjects of prayer. " When I was," 
 said he, " only a nominal Christian, I 
 used to pray to my family, if any 
 strangers were present I prayed to them, 
 when 1 was alone I prayed to myself — 
 but since I have been 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 prayer, 
 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, " Now I am rather moderate in 
 some of 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 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- 
 ENTY YEARS.— A poor old man, 
 when a child of three years of age, had 
 been taught by his mother to repeat 
 a prayer every night, which 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 ! 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 Osgood God and God Almighty. 
 At the close of his prayer, a little child, 
 about four years of age, came to his 
 mother and said, " Mother, I don't like 
 to hear that minister pray !" 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. 
 
 (A) A LONG PRAYER— Rev. 
 
 Mr. while traveling through one of 
 
 623 
 
327 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 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 havins: made a slight 
 change in his attitude, he endeavored to 
 compose himself, and wait 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. Well, said he, he is not half 
 done yet. 
 
 OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 W. 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- 
 per, he replied, " If I had no anxieties, 
 I 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." 
 
 (b) 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, 
 
 624 
 
 in the evening of his life declared, 
 " Were I to live again, I would ex- 
 change the court for retirement, and 
 the whole life I have lived in the pal- 
 ace for one hour's enjoyment of God in 
 my closet. All things .low forsake me, 
 except my God, my duty, and my 
 prayers." 
 
 It is said further of tnis eminent man, 
 that at the close of lifo he observed, 
 that the result of h/s 'oservation and 
 experience might be comprised in three 
 short sentences : — Seriousness is the 
 greatest wisdom ; temperance the best 
 physic ; and a good conscience the best 
 estate." 
 
 (c) PHILIP HENRY'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 cautionj 
 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 
 generally begins at the closet door." 
 
 (d) GRIMSTONE'S HABIT.— Sir 
 Harbottle Grimstone, master of the 
 rolls, an eminent lawyer, a just jutlge, 
 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, whei 
 exhausted with long and difficult stud- 
 ies. One said, he had recourse in such 
 a case, to a bottle of wine — anothei 
 that he went into company. Haydi 
 being asked what he would do, or di( 
 do, said that he retired to his closet 
 and engaged in prayer — that nothin^^ 
 exerted on his mind a more happy 
 and efficacious influence than prayer. 
 Haydn was no enthusiast. 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 32T 
 
 (/) PAYING FOR PRAYING.— 
 
 A.n 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 a ten-guilder 
 piece, (a gold coin, value 16^. 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 found her ; and 
 said he was come to fulfil his promise. 
 She immediately recognized him, but 
 40 
 
 decidedly refused his offered money, 
 saying, '• I have found a reward much 
 richer than any sum of gold." 
 
 (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, he employed in 
 behalf of God's glory, and the 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 got 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. Wonderful example of piety ! 
 What was the secret of his high at- 
 tainments '? 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 than 
 thirty years, with the exception of ten 
 days' illness, he had risen from his bed 
 at night, and prayed for a dying world's 
 salvation. His minister used to say. 
 "I am but a babe to brother Lee : I 
 prize his prayers more than gold." 
 
 (h) 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 evangelical 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. 
 
 When 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 
 liim 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 : While it is a 
 626 
 
 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, 1 knew a 
 man who departed this life at the ad- 
 vanced age of 94 years. His whole 
 business, while 1 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 difficult 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, I will 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, Avhich, 
 by long and frequent use were worn 
 smooth like polished steel. The place 
 was often afterwards visited by the cu- 
 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- 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 S2Y, 33S 
 
 ble for some two or three years after 
 the good man entered his rest ; but are 
 now overgrown and forgotten. 
 
 0) PRAYER OF THE CON- 
 DEMxNED SOLDIER.— During the 
 unhappy commotions in Ireland, a pri- 
 vate soldier in the army of Lord Corn- 
 v/allis, 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 affirmed 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. 
 
 m. 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 
 
33S 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) FAMILY WORSHIP IN GEY- 
 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 was very remarkable : he prayed 
 that God would make larger the ears 
 of his grandmother. Mr. F. supposed, 
 from this circumstance, that his poor 
 628 
 
 relative was so deaf that she could not 
 hear those truths which he admired 
 himself. 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 flivored. 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 up and yield fruit. 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 3d8 
 
 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 family ; these became 
 matter of deep solicitude and fervent 
 prayer. Her 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, I was 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 increa,se 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 a 
 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 sufficiently to 
 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 W£is there that I 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 be the birth-place 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 ; suffice 
 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 
 
32§ 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 and retain my devotion : better to lose 
 a few shillings, thi/fn 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, wlien 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 vvhenever he chose to retire. 
 "But," said he, "you have not had 
 your family together." " H^ad 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 himself 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. Who can tell what may befall 
 us before morning? No, sir, I dare 
 not stay." The landlord still remon- 
 strated, and expressing great regret 
 that he should offend so agreeable a 
 630 
 
 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 diflusing 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, wiihout any notice, 
 he withdrew from the public assembly 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 32§ 
 
 at Guildhall after supper, went to his 
 house, there performed family worship, 
 and then returned to the company. 
 
 (h) HOWARD'S PRACTICE.— 
 Mr. Howard, the philanthropist, never 
 neglected the duty of family prayer, 
 even though there v/as 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 words 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 fbel 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, that 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. 
 
 ( j ) FAMILY PRAYER BY TWO 
 DAUGHTERS.— A gentleman resid- 
 ing in the western part of the state of 
 New-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 
 affected, 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 
 
 glowing with gratitude to God, and 
 
 631 
 
32S 
 
 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 tliinking 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 ! 
 
 (k) "SIR, WHO HAVE YOU 
 BEEN TALKING WITH ?"— 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, I think, 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 
 she lived, yet solicitous to know, she 
 632 
 
 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. Not satisfied, she 
 asked her father, who answered in a 
 thoughtless and inhuman manner, "The 
 devil 1 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 ? where does he live ?" &c. Many 
 questions of a similar nature she puJ 
 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 tilings, 
 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 
 beating 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. 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 32S 
 
 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 relii^ion. 
 
 (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 ihe 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 
 cou!(l 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- 
 lished 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- 
 curred, 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 I shall return. How 
 is it that you have never established 
 family prayer? I know the diffidence 
 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 ? 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 affected — 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 
 
3SS, 329 
 
 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, befo 
 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 down 
 m their knees beside him, until the 
 A^'hole domestic circle united in the hal- 
 lowed exercise ; the gray-headed father 
 kneeling down beside his child, and 
 joining in his artless aspirations to God 
 the Father of all. 
 
 (o) 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 
 634 
 
 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 fainily 
 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 liis 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 sometliing 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 be- 
 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, 
 " Now Lord lettest thou thy servant de- 
 part in peace, for mine eyes have seen 
 thy salvation.' 
 
 §29. 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 t' \e 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 a traveler 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- 
 
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 ne 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 ; I don'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 
 provided. One of the officers from the 
 end of the table looked at the captain 
 very significantly, and said, " We have 
 got it to-day !" And then addressing 
 himself to me he said, " Mr. Pritchard, 
 you see what o. graceless set we are." 
 
 All the gentlemen seemed to feel the 
 rebuke thus unintentionally given. 
 
 {(') THE KIiNG 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 a British 
 vessel, to pay a visit to the captain 
 and unconsciously conveyed a very for- 
 cible practical reproof to the party. 
 He sat down at the captain's tabhi to 
 partake of some refreshment; 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. 
 
 §30. Social and Public Prayer. 
 
 {a) PRAYER MEETING ABAN- 
 DONED. — 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 I'eli- 
 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 dne 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 overhearing 
 prayer, went in. What was their sur- 
 635 
 
»»0 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 prise on entering, to find but a single 
 Christian present, where they expected 
 to find an assembly. They took their 
 seats and waited till she had got done. 
 As she rose fi^om 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 ?" 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 
 636 
 
 the district school-house. In the circle 
 of attendance there 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 whicii 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 o| 
 cold, no darkness or storm, breaks uj 
 is still sustained and cherished witl 
 warm^ffection. 
 
 During the first year of the meetingj 
 several parents and a few youth wen 
 brought publicly to profess Christ. 
 Then succeeded a long and severe trij 
 of faith and perseverance. For four^i 
 teen years very few were added to th< 
 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- 
 came 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, ani 
 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 wojk of 
 grace. The means, blessed of God, 
 
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 330 
 
 were personal conversation, family visit- 
 ing, and more frequent prayer meetings, 
 all conducted among themselves, with 
 very 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 refreshiug 
 have been enjoyed, and eternity alone 
 can make known the number of souls 
 that have 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. 
 
 (c) 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, fov, 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 go, if nobody else went. Ac- 
 cordingly, the next Wednesday evening 
 she took her hymn-book and walked 
 some distance to the school-house where 
 the meetings used to be held — here she 
 prayed, and sung, and prayed. On her 
 way home, she stopped at a neighbor's 
 
 house to rest. ' " Where 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 '?" " 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 joy 
 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 many 
 noes as ayes, is, methinks, a melancholy 
 proof of the imperfection of the human 
 understanding. We indeed seem to feel 
 our own want of political wisdom, since 
 we have been running all about in search 
 of it. We have gone back to ancient 
 history for models of government, and 
 examined the different forms of repub- 
 lics, 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. n this 
 situation of this assembly, gropnig, 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 the 
 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- 
 vidence 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 ? 1 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 ? 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 
 t one or more of the clergy of this city 
 be requested to officiate in that service." 
 
 What 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- 
 thing against you, and I am come to 
 tell you of it." " Do walk in, sir," he 
 replied ; " you are my best friend : if I ■ 
 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 
 pray in the first place, and ask the bless- 
 638 
 
 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 
 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, 
 and I believe I was in the wrong." 
 
 PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 Sll. Prayer Answered by God's Providential 
 Control of Material and Animal Agencies. 
 
 (a) 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 privations. 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, they 
 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 prayerj 
 and continued their worship for eight ol 
 nine hours. God heard their prayers 
 and answered them in a way which ex^ 
 cited universal admiration. Althougl 
 the morning of that day was clear, anc 
 the weather very hot and dry during 
 the whole forenoon, yet before night ii 
 began to rain, and gentle showers coni 
 tinned to fall for many days, so that th< 
 ground became thoroughly soaked, 
 the drooping corn revived. \ ■ 
 
 (b) THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 
 ERS. — About the time when the-Gos^ 
 pel was beginning to make its way ii 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 33t 
 
 Raiatea, 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.'' " Why 
 did you not pray to him sooner ?" 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 sometime, 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 
 prayer." ^ 
 
 (c) 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 
 f()und 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 
 mournfully 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 ?" 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- 
 vency, for more than an hour, the many 
 proofs recorded in Scripture of his be- 
 ing a prayer-hearing and prayer-answer- 
 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, dear 
 Luther, why don't you let me depart in 
 peace ?" To which Luther again an- 
 swered, " No, 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 mo 
 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 I will 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- 
 THER.— 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 
 growing 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 fully 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. When 
 ten or a dozen years of affliction 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." 
 
 640 
 
 (/) TWO CHRISTIANS IN AVA. 
 — The Rev. Eugenio Kincaid states, 
 that among the first converts in Ava, 
 were two men who had held respectable 
 offices 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) ELLIOTT'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 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 331 
 
 I give in Dr. Mather's own words. 
 There was a ,2;odly gentleman of 
 Charlestown, one Mr. Foster, who, with 
 his son was taken captive by the Turks. 
 Much prayer was employed, both pub- 
 licly 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, " Heaveiily 
 FatJier, work for the redemption of thy 
 ■poor servant, Foster ; and if the Prince 
 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." 
 
 (A) 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 them 
 to whom thou wilt gi'e strength to flee, 
 for our strength is gane. Twine them 
 about the hill, O 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, f9r 
 a cloud of mist immediately intervened 
 between them and their persecutors; 
 41 
 
 and in the meantime, orders came to go 
 in quest of James Renwick, and a great 
 company with him. 
 
 (/) 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 suflicient 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 fathers, 
 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 officiating" 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 conjjregation 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." 
 
 (j) 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 re- 
 641 
 
331 
 
 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- 
 gious 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, 
 1 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. 
 
 ik) 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- 
 642 
 
 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 
 insufficiency of all human help, she felt 
 it powerfully suggested to her mind that 
 there is one Almighty God who is to be 
 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. 
 
 Hereupon, 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 ciime 
 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, wherewith God 
 hito in this remarkable way favored 
 her. Her child, whose name was Ja- 
 phet, became afterwards an eminent min- 
 
PRA.YER ANSWERED. 
 
 331 
 
 ister of Christ. He was pastor of an 
 Indian church, on Martha's Vyieyard ; 
 he also took much pains to carry the 
 gospel unto other Indians on the main 
 land, and his labors were attended with 
 much success." 
 
 (/) THE GUARDED HOUSE.— 
 f>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 Jiow 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 
 that 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 ?" 
 
 And now came the dreaded night of 
 the 5th of Januaiy ; 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- 
 ed ; but all rode past their dwelling. 
 Throughout 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 or 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 were ordered for their deliverance. 
 It came to pass, that whem theic ene- 
 mies waited only for the tide, in order 
 to land, the tide was retarded, contrary 
 to its usual course, for twelve hours ; so 
 that their enemies were obliged to de- 
 fer the attempt to another opportunity, 
 which they never found, because a 
 643 
 
833 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 storm arose afterwards, and drove them 
 from the coast." 
 
 M. Prayer answered by God's Provi- 
 dential Control of Men'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 thou 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 loaf, 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." 
 (h) 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 Jesus, 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 
 looking to see if Jesus Christ answer 
 prayer." For two years he was to be 
 644 
 
 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 ?" '• 0, Jesus 
 Christ answer prayer — father and mo- 
 ther come in that ship ;" which was ac-« 
 tually the case. 
 
 (c) 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. At 
 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, when 
 he remarked that he had no money, but 
 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 found 
 myself deeply affected with the fourth 
 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. While I was yet 
 praying, a friend of mine came before 
 my door in a coach, and brought the 
 sum of four hundred crowns !" 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 332, 333 
 
 (d) 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 
 eveninfj crathered tocfether 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 same evening, and the 
 sa7ne hour when many were gathered 
 together and prayer was made unto 
 God for her. 
 
 Ul Prayer answered by Ihe Agency of 
 the Holy Spirit in various interesting 
 Conversions. 
 
 (a) THE PRAYING SISTERS.— 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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 readers. 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 to be prayed for. And now mark 
 how God brings good out of evil. He 
 went — and his hardihood carried him 
 through the accomplishment of his 
 wicked purpose. But perhaps his con- 
 science was not so much at ease as his 
 645 
 
333 
 
 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. Whatever may have 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 and water are sure ; but I pray ihee, in 
 thy intercession above, to remember this 
 man ; he hath reflected on thy provi- 
 dence. Father! 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 
 646 
 
 man. He was much disconcerted the 
 following night. The next day, being 
 : called on business to a neighboring town 
 ! he overtook the old man on the road. 
 i As he afterwards confessed, the sight 
 j almost petrified him with guilt and fear. 
 j He dismounted, when an interesting con- 
 versation ensued. .At the clbse 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 this 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 re- 
 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 
 1 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 given the world to 
 have been rid of that mother's prayers. 
 At one time I 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 to 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 33^ 
 
 my own, and perhaps, they arose from 
 a 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 instead, 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. 
 
 hood. The praying mother lived a few 
 years to enjoy tlieir 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 the promises. 
 
 (/) PRAYING AN HOUR DAI- 
 LY EIGHTEEN MONTHS.— A poor 
 woman, at Berwick St. John, in Wilt- 
 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 off. That same day her 
 husband returned from his labor in a 
 state of deep dejection, 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 again to his labor un- 
 til the evening. When he came home, 
 his wife affectionately asked him, " What 
 is the matter ?" 
 
 " Matter enough," said he, " I am a 
 lost sinner. About twelve o'clock this 
 morning," continued he, " I was at my 
 647 
 
333 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 work, and a passage of Scripture was 
 deeply impressed upon my mind, which 
 I cannot get rid of, and I am sure I am 
 lost." 
 
 His wife encouraged him to pray, 
 but he replied, " O wife, it is of no 
 use, there is no forgiveness for me !" 
 Smitten with remorse at the recollec- 
 tion of his former conduct, he said to 
 her, '• Will you forgive me ?" She re- 
 plied, " Oh yes." " Will you pray 
 for me ?" "Oh yes, that I will." 
 " Will you pray for me now .?" " 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 locked 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-bod 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 
 a religious kind, that would reprove his 
 sins and harass his feelings. At length, 
 in 1814, when in his fifty-sixth year, 
 he determined to examine its contents. 
 648 
 
 When he reached the bottom, he dis- 
 covered a paper neatly folded, and en- 
 dorsed — " Tiie 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 overwhelm.ed 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, 
 " I cannot 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. 
 
 (h) 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. Sho 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. 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 33S 
 
 ing God, who has said, " Ask, and ye 
 shall receive," and who never said, 
 " Seek ye me in vain," condescended to 
 give her a gracious 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) " 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 companions 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. 
 
 (j) A FATHER AND HIS 
 FRIENDS PRAYING.— The Boston 
 Christian Herald relates the following 
 instance of the efficacy of prayer. A 
 
 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 knocked 
 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. 
 
 (k) THE WIFE'S LAST PRAY- 
 ER. — In a revival that occurred some 
 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 Tarsus 
 when the voice came from Heaven. 
 He stood a moment trembling — the axe 
 fell from his hand — and he replied, " / 
 649 
 
333 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 I 
 
 will." He went to a retired place, re- 
 mained till some time in the evening, 
 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 ? 
 
 (l) 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 then 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- 
 650 
 
 ing him, he, thousands of miles away 
 from his sister, entered into his chanj- 
 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 CONSUMPTIVE.— 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 she 
 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 Go^ 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 fiiithful 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 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 
 
 333, 334 
 
 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 ; 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 ; 
 and while his affectionate son entreated 
 him with tears to seek the favor of his 
 Maker, he turned away with scoffing 
 and profaneness. 
 
 It is true that the Christian character 
 shines most beautiful in adversity. It 
 gathers fragrance from affliction. 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 ; and 
 He whose ear is never closed to the 
 supplications of humble and contrite 
 hearts, was graciously pleased to afford 
 him relief. 
 
 The morning came. The father, firm 
 to his purpose, demanded of the son if 
 he had made his decision. " Yes, fa- 
 ther," said the faithful boy, " / am 
 decided to serve God — to serve him as 
 long as I live — and I feel assured, that 
 
 ' when my father and my mother forsake 
 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 ; they 
 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 aoon 
 led to cherish, and at the time this ac- 
 count was related, they were adorning 
 the church of Christ. 
 
 UL Prayer Answered by the Agency of 
 the Holy Spirit, in Various Interesting 
 Revivah. 
 
 (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 own 
 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 with 
 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. 
 
 (h) 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 
 pray hrhim. 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. 
 
 (c) REVIVAL WITHOUT A MI- 
 NISTER.— The following facts were 
 stated by Rev. Mr. Crane, at a mis- 
 sionary meeting in New- York city. 
 652 
 
 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 most 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 to 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 ana prayers of a single Christian. 
 
 S^i Various Examples of the Power of^ 
 Prayer. 
 
 {a) DR. MASON AND THE DY- 
 ING UNITARIAN.— The Rev. Dr. 
 
 Mason, of New- 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- 
 proaching 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 
 
POWER OF PRAYER. 
 
 335 
 
 one 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 
 1 am secure ; there I shall remain. I 
 know in whom I have believed !" 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 ail, 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- 
 prisiixg 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 instantane- 
 ous and powerful. Abandoning their 
 murderous purpose, 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 they kept. 
 
 (c) "SHOW THEM 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 community 
 by general consent seemed to have con- 
 ceded the propriety of the exercise in 
 such meetings. While one was thus 
 engaged, all was solemnity, anxiety, and 
 agony, with twenty or more anxious 
 souls around us. She prayed, " Show 
 them thy cross and lead them to it ; en- 
 able them to see the sufferer there, and 
 the blood thou hast shed in their behalf. ^^ 
 These, words came like the rising sun 
 upon the mind of an intelligent man 
 then in agony .among the anxious, and 
 were like balm to his soul. His guilt 
 and danger were in full view, but now 
 he saw the ground of hope and safety- 
 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 words 
 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 yneet- 
 ing, about to be held in an adjacent 
 county. Before he reacjhed 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 
 don't think it worth while to pray for 
 654 
 
 me now. They have all given nje 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- 
 ble !" said Mr. P. ; and throwing him- 
 self back, he had well nigh fallen from 
 the horse upon wliich 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 ! — 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 a bat- 
 tle. They chose the same field to fight 
 in, where the other had *gone to pray. 
 The field, however, was 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 
 
POWER OF PRAYER. 
 
 335 
 
 the village who mourned over the exces- 
 sive 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 
 them more securely in the charmed 
 circle of worldlines and vanity. They 
 knew no means to prevent the ball, and 
 they determined on the 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. 
 Was 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- 
 coming 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- 
 gle. As, however, he greatly coveted 
 
 the situation, to which at his own re- 
 quest he had been appointed, he came 
 to the conclusion he would endeavor to 
 surmount the difficulty, 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. 
 
 (7i) 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. While 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 lefl 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 ? How unlike a 
 Christian have I lived ! I have never 
 prayed in this manner : I have 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. 
 
 §36. Mlscallaiieous 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 
 hearts, 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 
 656 
 
 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. As 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 God 
 keeps you so long in this world, poor, 
 and sick, and blind, when you might go 
 to heaven and enjoy so much 1" 
 
 While Mr. B.'s tone and manner 
 were half sportive, he 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 pray for it, toder he to act for it. 
 Now, massa, God keep me alive to pray 
 
 i 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's 
 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 affiic- 
 tions. 
 
 (b) 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." 
 
PRIDE. 
 
 337 
 
 337. PRIDE. 
 
 (a) HOWARD AND THE COUN- 
 TESS. — 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 ; " 1 go into prisons !" 
 and rapidly hastened down stairs in 
 great anger. Howard, indignant at her 
 proud and unfeeling disposition, loudly 
 called alter 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." 
 
 (b) 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, " What do 
 they think of me in Europe ?" 
 
 (c) 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. 
 His pride was inflamed and supported 
 by the immense riches he possessed, by 
 the excessive and continual praises of 
 his flatterers, 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 kings ! So 
 far did he carry his pride as to be wait^ 
 42 
 
 ed on by crowned 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. 
 
 (d) 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 tKat 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. 
 
 (/) SOCRATES AND ALCIBI- 
 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 diflSculty ; 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 
 657 
 
337 
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 losopher, " how much you are affected 
 about an imperceptible point of land !" 
 
 (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 he 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. 
 
 (h) 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 
 yet 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. 
 
 (i) TRIUMPHING BEFORE THE 
 BATTLE.—" Nothing," says Bishop 
 Home, " 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 
 he desired Paul Jovius, the historian, to 
 make a large provision of paper suffi- 
 cient to record the victories which he 
 was going to acquire." 
 
 ( j) THE GAY GIRL'S DEATH.— 
 A young lady, eighteen years of age, 
 in the city of New- 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 
 658 
 
 she requested as a favor, that all her 
 gay companions might be collected with 
 haste. They were soon 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 now 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 !" She soon after expired.. 
 
 (k) 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 ? You knew I must 
 die and go to judgment. You never told 
 me to read the 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. 
 
PROFANITY. 
 
 338, 339 
 
 PROFANITY. 
 
 318. Profanity Sinful. 
 
 {a) SWEARING AT A CHILD 
 FOR SWEARING.— A profkne 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. While whip- 
 ping his son for his profanity, he swore 
 several profane oaths himself! 
 
 (b) 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 archbishop ?" 
 
 (c) HOWARD'S OPINION.— As 
 he was standing one day near the door 
 of a printing-office, 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." 
 
 (d) ROMAINE'S REPROOF— 
 The Rev. William Romaine, of London, 
 in crossinof the Black Friar's bridge, 
 came up with a man who, in a style of 
 unusual and fearful impiety, called up- 
 on God '• to damn his soul for Christ's 
 sake !" Mr. Romaine, laying his hand 
 upon the blasphemer's shoulder, said : 
 " My friend, God has done many things 
 for Christ's sake, and perhaps he will 
 do THAT too ;" and passed on. The 
 reproof, 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 ! 
 
 Si9. Profanity Rebuked, Suppressed, 
 Abandoned. 
 
 {a) ROWLAND HILL AND 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 !" said I, " if you please, 
 gentlemen, let us have fair play : it's 
 my turn now." " At what is it your 
 turn, pray ?" 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. I told 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 ?" " 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. 
 
 {h) MR. CLARK AND HIS 
 WORKMEN.— 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 ? for if you are, 
 you shall not work with me. 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." 
 
 659 
 
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 V " I will take care that you be 
 reminded of your duty," said the owner. 
 " Wear the ring that I will give you, 
 and let the law of the vessel be expli- 
 citly known." 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- 
 plete. 
 
 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 ? are you willing to grant 
 
 660 
 
 your new captain one favor ?" " 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 am 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. " Thoy 
 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. 
 
 (e) COLONEL GARDINER PUT- 
 TING DOWN PROFANITY.— Dur- 
 ing Colonel Gardiner's residence at 
 Bankton, the Commander of the King's 
 forces, witlv several colonels and gentle- 
 men of rank, one day dined with him. 
 When 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 
 h^art, 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- 
 
PROFANITY REBUKED, SUPPRESSED, ABANDONED. 
 
 339 
 
 onel Gardiner on any occasion stepped 
 out of the room, he himself undertook 
 to be the guardian of the law in his 
 absence ; and, as one of the inferior 
 officers 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 quartei^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 difTerent parts 
 of the world, and gave his testimony 
 to the good effects of missionary efTorts 
 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.' 
 
 ' Well, when a sailor passes his 
 word he ought to be believed. I know 
 a sailor who resolved to stop swear- 
 ing ; and did so.' 
 
 ' Ah !' 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 I hope you will anchor all 
 your ship-mates' oaths with yours.' 
 
 " Not 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- 
 troduced 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 
 while you only used freedoms with the 
 name of your own master, but I insist 
 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 !" 
 
 (z) 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 came, 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 ; 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 
 
 PROFANITY. 
 
 •)f 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. 
 (j) 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 
 imprecations of the soldiers, whenever 
 he 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." 
 
 (k) WREN AND HIS WORKMEN. 
 — When this eminent architect was 
 building St. Paul's Cathedral, he caused 
 the following notice to be affixed 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 
 banished from these works, which are 
 intended for the service of God, and the 
 honor of religion ; it is ordered that 
 profane swearing shall be a sufficient 
 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." 
 
 (Z) THE SWEARER AND HIS 
 BOY. — A man in the state of New- 
 York, who was extremely addicted to 
 662 
 
 profane swearing, was one day at work 
 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 hor- 
 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 reflections 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 again if ever it commits the like 
 crime hereafter." 
 
 MO. Profanity, Punishment of. 
 
 (a) SUDDEN VENGEANCE.— 
 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 
 
PROFANITY, PUNISHMENT 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, but 
 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 ! 
 
 (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 siruck speechless, 
 and so remained for about three hours, 
 when he died. His body was, by order 
 of his officers, made a public spectacle 
 
 to the populace, soldiers, and sailors, as 
 a warning to them. 
 
 {d) DEATH FROM PROFANITY 
 AND ANGER. — 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." "/'// go to hell first r 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? 
 
 663 
 
3il 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 Preserving Life. 
 
 By the Control of Material and Animal 
 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. During all the time of the 
 plague, he preached every Sabbath in 
 some of the parish churches. He chose 
 664 
 
 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 lake 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 
 Hoxton for upwards of tv/elve years 
 afterwards. Thus were the promises 
 in the ninety-first Psalm fulfilled to this 
 servant of God. 
 
 (l) 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 Avorthy 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. 
 
IN BESTOWING 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 
 raising a beam in a mill, the rope slip- 
 ped, 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, attempting to pass on to the 
 other side of the 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 those 
 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 spare 
 The man that's strangled by a hair." 
 
 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. 
 {d) 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. 
 When 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 person to whom he was known, 
 and who had seen him go into the 
 water, returning, 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 him a piece of silver, and 
 put him on shore. The singularity of 
 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 supjxtsed 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 with 
 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 
 
 joy- 
 
 \e) THE WALDENSES 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 Waldensian Christians from their 
 native valleys. In 1689, eight or 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, endeavoring 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, but in 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 ; 
 and by the help of his paddle, which he 
 had happily kept in his hand when he 
 joined his brother on the ice, to go in 
 quest of the kayaks. Though the sea 
 and 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 
 in quest of that of his companion, which 
 he likewise found. He also kept pos- 
 session of the seal ; and now hastened 
 66t3 
 
 in search of the flake of ice, on which 
 his companion was most anxiously look- 
 ing out for him ; having reached it, he 
 brought him his kayak, and enabled 
 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, Maine, 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 he could do the least towards 
 extricating 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.j 
 What must have been his feelings while 
 thus confined, and viewing that threat* 
 ening death hanging directly over him, 
 and expecting every moment it woulc 
 fall and terminate his existence ? 
 
 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 thought to use that aa| 
 a lever, by which to raise the tree; 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 341 
 
 the effort proved successful, and he 
 made his escape without any material 
 injury. 
 
 (h) 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 bed-room 
 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 the 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 
 bear his weight ; and being utterly in 
 despair, 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 
 afler 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. 
 
 (?:) 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 
 part of Greece, and committed every 
 
 kind of outrage upon the inhabitants. 
 One of these barbarians, an officer, had 
 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, " Let 
 her alone. Do not you see that her 
 time is not yet come ?" Resolved, hcMr- 
 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 child 
 was carried back to the widow by one 
 of his own men. 
 
 0) THE MARTYR SAVED.— It 
 is related, in the memoirs of the cele- 
 brated William 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 
 tlie 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. 
 
 (k) THE SPANISH ARMADA.— 
 When 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 
 
342 
 
 f 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 sinking in the back-ground ; 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." 
 
 Ut. Preserving from Persecutors and other 
 Enemies. 
 
 (a) JOACHIM AND THE WAL- 
 DENSES. — Maximilian, the emperor 
 of Germany, conversing one day in his 
 dfbich with Johannes Crato, 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 simplicity. Crato 
 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 Domo, 
 chancellor of Bohemia, went to Vienna, 
 and would give the emperor no rest un- 
 til he procured for him a mandate for 
 the revival of a former persecuting or- 
 dinance against 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 ; 
 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, and held him up till some 
 fishermen came to 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 dropped. 
 
 668 
 
 (b) THE MERCHANT AND THE 
 CRIMINAL. — A gentleman in an ex- 
 tensive lino 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 to 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 
 at Bristol fair ?" " 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." 
 
 (c) 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 some 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 meekly, " 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 LI- 
 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 halt 
 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 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 342, 343 
 
 of the fire. The 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. 
 
 (e) THE CZAR AND THE NO- 
 BLEMAN'S DINNER. — Alexander 
 Menzikoff, who rose to the highest offi- 
 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. While Menzikoff 
 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 tlie sleeve, and begged he 
 would not touch it till he had spoken to 
 him. The emperor immediately with- 
 drew with Menzikoff, 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 greatest torments ! 
 
 Ml Preserving from Animals or by means 
 of them. 
 
 (a) DU MOULIN AND THE SPI- 
 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. 
 White, 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. 
 
 (h) 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. 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 (d) THE EAGLE'S NEST AND 
 THE CHILD.— 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 unhurt. 
 
 (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 pro- 
 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 hand. His comrades instantly took 
 
 670 
 
 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 behind 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. The poor 
 man now became almost breathless, part- 
 ly from fear, but principally from the in- 
 tolerable pressure of his terrific 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 expecting 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 my 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 313 
 
 blood." Whilst thus engaged in call- 
 ing upon God, the beast turned himself 
 completely round. On perceiving this, 
 the Hottentot made an effort to get from 
 under him ; 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 ; 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 ; 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 ; 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 very 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. While 
 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 ; 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. No 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 him no harm. 
 671 
 
343 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 When the gentleman began to prepare 
 for 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 limes, 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 cut ; 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 bv the gentleman afterwards. 
 672 
 
 (i) 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, 1 was surprised by a 
 tremendous rushing noise. I sprang 
 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 passed 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 circumstance till 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. Here, solicitous for what possi- 
 bly might be the result of my unfortu- 
 nate shot, I prepared both my knife 
 and tomahawk, for what I 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 destruc- 
 tive rage. I looked into the tree with 
 the utmost caution, but could not per- 
 ceive it, though its groans and ven- 
 geance-breathing growls, told me that 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 313 
 
 it was not far off, and also what I had 
 to expect, in case it should discover me. 
 In 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 about 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 BY 
 AN EAGLE. — A peasant with his wife 
 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, 
 43 
 
 with shrieks of anguish and afTrijrht. 
 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 was jealous. 
 
 On the morning on which the accident 
 happened, an Alpine yager, 
 
 " Whose joy was in the wilderness — to breathe 
 The diliiuult air of the iced mauntain'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 Avinging her way toward the 
 rock, behind which he was concealed. 
 Imagine his horror, when, upon her 
 nearer approach, he heard the cries and 
 distinguished the figure of an infant in 
 her fatal grasp. In an instant 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 torn to 
 pieces by the horrid devourer. With a 
 silent prayer, and a steady aim, the 
 mountainer poised his rifle. The ball 
 went directly through the head or heart 
 of the eagle, and in a minute afterward, 
 the gallant hunter of the Alps had the 
 unutterable delight of snatching the child 
 from the nest, and bearing it^away in 
 triumph. It was dreadfully wounded 
 by the eagle in one of its arms and sides, 
 but not mortally ; and, within twenty- > 
 four hours after it was first missed, he 
 had the satisfaction of restoring it to its 
 mother's arms. 
 
 (k) THE IMPORTUNATE IN- 
 TRUDER.— Sir Harry Lee, in Ditch- 
 long, in Oxfordshire, ancestor of the late 
 earl of Litchfield, had a mastiff 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 faitlif id valet, an Italian, 
 the mastiff 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- 
 673 
 
343, 314 
 
 PROVIPENCE. 
 
 room. Being deemed an intruder, lie 
 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 ! 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 he 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. 
 
 (l) KICHERER AND THE AS- 
 
 SASSIN. — This name will remind the ! 
 
 reader of the first Missionary to the Af- I 
 
 rican Hottentots. During his early ! 
 
 674 
 
 residence among them, he was visited 
 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 was 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. W. 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 
 
 BY THE CONTROL OF MIND. 
 
 314. In Overruling Involuntary Affec- 
 tions and Dreams. 
 
 (a) THE SOLDIER AND THE 
 JEWELER.— 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 placed 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 
 
 344 
 
 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 house, 
 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 !" 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, 
 ho was quartered at the house of an in- 
 timate friend of the jeweler, to whom 
 he 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 T could not move from 
 the sill of the door until the jeweler 
 came to me ! God protects his chil- 
 dren. 
 
 (b) THE MISSIONARIES AND 
 l^HE 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 !" 
 was the unanimous reply. " Now, 
 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 offered 
 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 Wotton. 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 Wotton, 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, Wil- 
 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 ? 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 I shall 
 surely be found out : so I never could 
 675 
 
344 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 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 holy man." 
 
 (d) RUFFIANS 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 ruffians, 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, Lord Jesus, help !" 
 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- 
 ing 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 
 in the middle of the night. Bunyan 
 was at home with his family, but so rest- 
 less that he could not sleep ; he there- 
 676 
 
 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 ?" " Yes." " Is 
 John Bunyan safe ?" " 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 
 
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAE BLESSINGS. 
 
 344 
 
 proper remedies they recovered ; and 
 the young gentlemen, believing that 
 the design of their coming from home 
 was now answered, returned back. 
 
 The impressions made on the mind 
 of this young 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 Redeemer, 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 
 him to seek that grace which they had 
 both neglected. Her serious conversa- 
 tion was blest to his conversion, and he 
 became a fiithful 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 
 him 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, VVishart set 
 out, but suddenly stopping by the way, 
 avowed to the friends who had accom- 
 panied him, his strong conviction that 
 God did not will that he should proceed ; 
 for that there was treachery in this bu- 
 siness. The)^ went forward without him, 
 and discovered the whole plot, by which 
 means bis life was preserved. 
 
 (h) KNOX AND THE ASSAS- 
 SIN. — This celebrated Scotch reformer 
 had many surprising escapes from the 
 malicious designs of his enemies. He 
 
 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 night a bullet was 
 shot in at the window purposely to kill 
 him ; it grazed the chair in which he 
 usually sat, and made a hole in the foot 
 of the candlestick. 
 
 (i) DOD'S SINGULAR VISIT.— 
 It is recorded of Mr. Dod, one of the 
 Puritan ministers, that being one even- 
 ing late in his study, his mind 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. 
 
 ij) THE LOST WOMAN.— 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 exhausted. 
 At this moment it was strongly im- 
 : pressed upon her mind to sit down, and 
 I wait the return of morning, which she 
 \ accordingly did ; and on extending her 
 I feet in order to obtain as much relief as 
 \ possible for her v/eary 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 Preserver, and 
 then made the best of her way home. 
 
 S45. In Overrnliiig Voluntary Acts and 
 Affections. 
 
 (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. While 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 
 678 
 
 the sword of Goliath in the tabernacle. 
 " That Bible," said Proctor, '• has 
 twice saved me instrumentally — first, 
 from death in battle, and second from 
 death eternal." 
 
 (b) 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, Jbe 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. 
 
 (c) ESCAPE OF GEN. WASH- 
 INGTON. — Major Ferguson, who com- 
 manded a rifle corps in advance of tlie 
 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 rebel 
 
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 pas5,ed within a hundred yards 
 of us, upon which I advanced fVom the 
 wood towards him. Upon my calling, 
 he stopped ; 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 unoffending 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 Wash- 
 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." 
 
 (d) 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 long 
 time, lier 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. 
 
 (e) 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. 
 
 (f) THE SADDLE-BAG IN THE 
 WRONG 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 journeys to Liverpool, his 
 saddle-bag was, by mistake, put into a 
 boat different 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 COMMISrON.— 
 It is 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 over- 
 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 Fitzwalter and the privy council ; 
 to whom, after an explanatory speech, 
 the box was presented, which to the as- 
 tonishment of all present, was found 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- ! 
 680 
 
 waiter on his return to England, that 
 slie sent for the woman, whose name 
 was Elizabeth Edwards, and gave her 
 a pension of forty pounds a year during 
 her life. 
 
 (h) 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, he deeply ueplored 
 the want of Christian 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. 
 
 (z) GREENLAND MISSION- 
 ARIES FED.— When 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 send 
 
IN BESTOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS. 
 
 345, 346 
 
 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 m 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 coffin. — 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 coffin ! 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 !" hs 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. 
 
 (k) WISHART AND THE 
 PSALM. — The Covenanters, in the time 
 of the civil wars were exceedingly fond 
 of singing psalms. When 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. 
 
 316. In Overruling Benevolenee. 
 
 (a) "THERE IS THAT SCAT- 
 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 Meri- 
 vault. " Ho 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 Prosni, who was left 
 in charge of four orphan children, had 
 literally distributed her stores, while 
 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 
 
346 
 
 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- 
 CHANT. — 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 
 burst 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 ; who 
 observing a grave English minister fre- 
 quently walk the streets with a dejected 
 682 
 
 countenance, inquired privately into his 
 circumstances, and sent him the gold by 
 his apprentice, and the provision by his 
 
 country servant, sayu)< 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) THE MINISTER'S STARV- 
 ING FAMILY.— A clergyman of the 
 state of New- 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 depdi 
 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 afflicted 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- 
 
IN BESTOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS. 
 
 316 
 
 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- 
 ly 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 
 until 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,' 
 1 paid for my lodging and went out, not 
 knowing whither God's good hand would 
 lead me to receive something towards my 
 present subsistence. 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 sufferer, had given her 
 
 for me, and some linen for my wifo; 
 ; which I received, and told her husband 
 i I would fetch my wife and child and 
 I lodge there. I returned with great joy, 
 i 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 successful 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. 
 (e) ERSKINE'S DELIVERANCES. 
 — Rev. Henry Erskine was often in 
 great straits and difficulties. 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 told 
 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." 
 Whereupon 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. VVhen 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 ducatoons, with these 
 683 
 
347 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 words written, " Sir, receive this 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 bear- 
 ing his charges home. In days of per- 
 secution and poverty God wonderfully 
 interposes for his people. 
 
 §17, In Overruling 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. 
 
 Not 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. 
 
 684 
 
 he ascertained them to be, 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, Mdiich 
 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 an affectionate 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 cut 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.' " 
 
 (c) 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 Washington, 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 years, not knowing 
 
IN BESTOWING 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 ! 
 
 {d) THE LORD WAS THEIR 
 BANKEPv.— Mr. Philip Henry, one of 
 the 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," he 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'CuUum, 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 lans^uasjes, 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 protege 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 soon over- 
 took this man, who happened to belong 
 to the 42d regiment. On inquiring of 
 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 ?" " 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- 
 tions. 
 
 (/) THE CAPTIVE AND HER 
 FAVORITE HYMN.— 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 Wirtemberg, 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 ?od, 
 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 
 
347 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 itations 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 Utile 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 I, 
 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 of the natives. The poor 
 mother went up and down amongst the 
 686 
 
 young persons assembled, but by no 
 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 ?" 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 
 rescue. 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- 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 347, 34§ 
 
 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." 
 (h) THE BROTHERS' MEET- 
 ING. — 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 nished 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 Misfortunes and Bereave- 
 ments. 
 
 (a) GAME OF FOOT-BALL.— 
 
 Vavasor Powell, an eminent minister of 
 the seventeenth century, being appoint- 
 
 I ed to preach on a certain day, in a 
 I meadow, near Treozaron, Cardigan- 
 I shire, a number of idle persons, enemies 
 j 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 affliction, 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 
 
34§ 
 
 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 tlie infi- 
 del principles he had hitherto cherished, 
 and ended in the consecration of his life 
 to the cause of God. 
 
 (c) 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 b.read 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 stariy 
 heavens, he began to think about God 
 and eiernity, 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 1 His sins 
 passed in review, and pressed on his 
 guilty conscience, while bitter tears 
 of repentance began to roll down his 
 688 
 
 scalded cheeks. Without knowing what 
 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 flowed 
 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 solemn 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 — every eye 
 wept. Bro. Wm. W. Everts baptized 
 him, welcomed him to the church, and 
 he went on his vay rejoicing. 
 
 (d) 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 flitted 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 then 
 to make the trial, and to think of Him. 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 34§ 
 
 The result exceeded his most san- 
 guine hopes ; in thinking of God he fell 
 asleep. Night after night he resorted 
 to 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 flill asleep, as he 
 termed it, in God. What began as a 
 mere physical operation, grew by im- 
 perceptible degrees into a gracious in- 
 fluence. The same God who was ^ his 
 repose at night, was in all his thoughts 
 by day. And at the same time this 
 person spol^e 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." 
 
 (e) 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 doctrine 
 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 into his 
 young mind that all the sophistical 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 
 his soul could suggest to persuade him 
 to become a Christian. Still his mind 
 remained unaffected. 
 
 In the meantime a protracted meeting 
 44 
 
 was being held in the village 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 opening it, in- 
 stead of seeing the familiar hand of his 
 mother, his eye rested on characters 
 scarcely legible. What 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 upo» 
 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 unusually 
 689 
 
349 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 severe. 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 
 plfices 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, told 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) WHITEFIELD'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- 
 lield received a letter, informing him 
 that the writer was a nephew of Mr. 
 S — , an attorney at New-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 hijn word, that it was not 
 691) 
 
 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- 
 tion to take away his sword. It was 
 now about midnight, and Mr. White- 
 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 !" But, by the repeated cry of 
 " murder !" the alarm was now so 
 great, that tliey 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, M'as well pairf 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 349 
 
 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 thd^ year 1743, the Rev. George 
 Whitefield had resolved to come to this 
 country, and had engaged his passage 
 in 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, 
 he 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 ; 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 Cookc; 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 deciding 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 the 
 preacher was repeating his text, " All 
 manner of sin and blasphemy shall be 
 forgiven unto men ; 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 to 
 Christ, and soon enjoyed a sense of 
 pardon, and the privilege of friendship 
 with God. In his case he considered, 
 
 " .Tehovah here resolved to show 
 What his Almighty grace could do." 
 
 (e) MR. WHITEFIELD AND THE 
 TRUMPETER.— On one occasion, 
 during Whitcfield'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 hour appointed for the sermon, he 
 691 
 
349 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 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, 
 and at no great distance. 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 
 within 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. 
 (/) WHITEFIELD AND THE 
 FIDDLER.— John 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. Whitefield, 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 altos^ether a new man. 
 
 (g) THE \V^IDOW 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 
 692 
 
 probably may, sir ; for I have some- 
 times ministered there." " Do you re- 
 member," said he, " a note put up by 
 an afflicted widow, begging the prayers 
 of the congregation for the conversion 
 of an ungodly son ?" " I do very well 
 remember such a circumstance." 
 " Sir," said he, " I am the very per- 
 son ; and, wonderful to tell, ^le prayer 
 was effectual. Going on a frolrc 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 afflicted 
 widow's son. J 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 a child as wick- 
 ed as I knew myself to be. My mind 
 was instantly solemnized. I could not 
 laugh ; 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. 
 
 (h) 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 for 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 much 
 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 half through, then slip- 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 350 
 
 ping out without his knowledge, and 
 getting through a hole in the back yard 
 fence, 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 s-hut out from 
 his daughter's heart. 
 
 S§0. Overruling various forms of Wicked- 
 ness. 
 
 (a) WORD OF GOD POWER- 
 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 byone 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 sin 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 that by their 
 
 unblamable lives, they adorned the gos- 
 pel of Christ. 
 
 (h) 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. 
 
 (c) THE SCOFFER CONVERT- 
 ED.— When the Rev. G. Whitefield 
 and J. Wesley 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." Who would have sup- 
 posed that the mercy 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 
 693 
 
^50 
 
 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 auditors ; ' and, when 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 1776. 
 
 {d) TAKING OFF THE ME- 
 THODIST.— 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. 
 
 (e) 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 wo- 
 man, who pretended 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- 
 694 
 
 grandchildren growing up around him. 
 Though he had assisted in intoxicating 
 the old woman, he had credulity 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 ! 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 sitting and tell- 
 ing them pleasant and profitable stories. 
 I will 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 
 can I acquire first ? Oh ! here is the 
 famous methodist preacher, Whitefield ; 
 he is to preach, they say, to-night — 1 
 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?" "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 
 shook 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 and 
 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 I 
 could think of little else. Those 
 awful words would follow me wherever 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 350 
 
 I went, ' The wrath's to come ! the 
 wrath's to come !' " The issue was, 
 that the young man soon after made a 
 public profession of religion, in a little 
 lime became an eminent preacher, and 
 he himself related these circumstances 
 to the late Rev. Andrew Fuller of Ket- 
 tering. 
 
 (/) PLAYIiNG 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 ?" 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 over, 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 sinning 
 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 
 
 I king (James L) 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 mo- 
 lest or discourage the youth, in what 
 were called their manly sports and re- 
 creations on the Lord's day, etc. While 
 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 ! What 
 sore judgments are to be expected upon 
 so wicked and guilty a nation ! What 
 shall I do? Whither shall 1 flee? 
 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. 
 
 ig) THE ROBBER AND THE 
 STOLEN SERMONS.— A minister, 
 had been preaching one evening, in a 
 village at some distimce 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 among them. These papers 
 were, however, 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 shall 
 695 
 
350 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 not steal." The singularity of this 
 circumstance induced him to read it ; 
 and the impression produced by its 
 warnings upon him svas so powerful, 
 that he abandoned his profligate 
 courses, became an altered man, devo- 
 ted himself to industrious labor, and 
 took the earliest opportunity of restor- 
 ing the property he had stolen. 
 
 (h) 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 
 termed, 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 
 liis 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 
 pressing invitation to the chief of sin- 
 ners, saying, 
 
 "Come and welcome, come and welcome. 
 All that feel your need of him." 
 
 696 
 
 These and similar sentences so pene- 
 trated his iieart, 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. 
 
 (0 THE THREE SCOFFERS.— 
 In a sea-port town on the west coast of 
 England, notice was once given 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 !" But here 
 the third interposed, and said, " It would 
 be better altogether to give up the de- 
 sign which has brought us here." At 
 this remark his two associates took of. 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 350 
 
 fence, and left the place, while he him- 
 self remained to the end. Now mark, 
 my brethren," continued the preacher, 
 with much emotion, " what were after- 
 wards the several fates of these young 
 men ? The first was hanged, many 
 years ago, at Tyburn, 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." 
 
 (j) 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 his 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 di4 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 trying 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 tliese thoughts he passed a sleep- 
 less night. In the morning his mind 
 was not settled upon any thing. To 
 I 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 the 
 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 
 himself. 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. 
 
 M, Overruling Dreams and Involuntary 
 Affections. 
 
 (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 New- 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. 
 
 (b) THE BACKSLIDER'S 
 DREAM. — A young gentleman being 
 reproved by his mother for being re- 
 ligious, made her this answer : " 1 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 
 
 698 
 
 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 
 OF J U D G M E 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 lefl hand of 
 the Judge, and there found them all 
 standing in the utmost despair. As 
 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, ' What 
 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 worc^, I awoke 
 bathed in tears. A while afler this, 
 as we were all sitting together on a 
 Sabbath evening, I related to them my 
 dream. No sooner did I begin than 
 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 that I doubt not he 
 will give them also to my prayers. 
 
 (d) HILL'S REPLY TO THE 
 CONVERT.— A candidate for admis- 
 sion to church membership under the 
 Rev. Rowland Hill being required to 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 353 
 
 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 flie hearing of sermons, &c. 
 When he had ended, Mr. Hill said, 
 We 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. 
 
 §32. Overruling 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 th« 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. 
 Afler 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 ; arid left her in 
 a state of glory." 
 
 [1) THE DYING MINISTER'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. Neither the mild 
 nor the severe methods used to reclaim 
 him had the desired etTect. 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 v/ould 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 ministry, 
 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) HOWE 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. Flavel 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 malevolence 
 699 
 
352 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 was upon them. Mr. Howe had been 
 officiating there, in a dark and tem- 
 pestuous wintry night, when an ahirm 
 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- 
 bitation, where they might either find 
 directions or a lodging. He soon dis- 
 covered a mansion, and received a 
 cheerful invitation to rest there for tlie 
 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 
 k 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 ruminated on the observations 
 which had fallen from the man of God, 
 and was become a penitent, earnestly 
 700 
 
 anxious for the blessings of eternal life. 
 From that sickness he recovered, 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. 
 
 {d) THE DUMB SERMON EF- 
 FECTUAL.— The Rev. William Ten- 
 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- J 
 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 wislied 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. 
 
 (e) THE DRUNKARD'S CON- 
 VERSION. — In a regiment of soldiers 
 stationed at Edinburgh, there was a ser- 
 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 of- 
 fered her husband a sum 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 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 352 
 
 the reality of his conversion, by living for 
 rtiany 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 v/ere 
 about to part, addressed him as follows: 
 " I have heard you are celebrated for 
 your mathematical skill ; 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 his own soul ?" The 
 youth returned home, 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 ?" 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 
 PRE ACHER.— 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^eek the bread 
 of life, and became a most eminent min- 
 ister in the Waldensian churches, who 
 are thus designated from him. 
 
 {h) THE ACTRESS AND THE 
 COTTAGER'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 be- 
 fore her. Curiosity prompted her to 
 look in at an open door, when she saw 
 a iew 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 V 
 
 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 offered up by one of the 
 little company ; 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 ; 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 ; but she now, how- 
 701 
 
332 
 
 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 request of the kind h6 
 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 ?" 
 
 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. 
 
 (i) 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. 
 702 
 
 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. 
 It 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 ; 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 ; 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 !" 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. 
 
 (j) SAY YOUR PRAYERS IN 
 FAIR WEATHER.— A sea captaii^ 
 of a profligate character, who commands 
 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 wa* 
 soon found to be of a most quarrelsome, 
 untractable disposition, a furious bias* 
 phemer, and, when an opportunity oU 
 
IN CONVERSIONS. 
 
 353 
 
 fered, a drunkard. Besides all these 
 disqualifications, he was wholly ignorant 
 of nautical affairs, or counterfeited 
 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 
 hnustered 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 
 streets were thronged with persons pro- 
 ceeding to the several houses of worship, 
 with 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 
 
 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 rriercies to you on the deep. The 
 captain was ashamed to refuse, so 
 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 position 
 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 sufficient 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 affecting 
 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. 
 
 effectually upon him, and subdued every 
 lofty imagination. And so, when the 
 people dispersed, he exchanged the 
 hotel 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. 
 
 (k) 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 
 704 
 
 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 af\er 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 he frequently repeated, till at last, 
 God blessed his efforts to the conversion 
 often 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^Auhigne, 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. 
 
 Ul 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 pioifs widow of her acquaintance : 
 
 " 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 
 
TRUST IN PROVIDENCE. 
 
 353 
 
 is no bread in the house ; we shall have 
 no breakfast.' I answered hjm, '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 
 de})end upon his God, who never forgot 
 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 m.orning, when John 
 woke me ; ' Mother,' said he, ' is the 
 bread come V 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 
 cows :' here then was bread for us. I 
 went to Mrs. Martin's, and milked her 
 cows, and afterwards sat c?own 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 gracious 
 God, who had heard our prayers the 
 45 
 
 evening before, and who had 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 mercy, 
 and for the sake of his Son Jesus Christ, 
 he would give us our daily 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 ihis.' " 
 
 Dame Bartlet concluded her interest- 
 ing narrative by adding, " And, madam, 
 I have never wanted bread since. I 
 am blessed in rfiy son, who is now a 
 man ; he is datiful and good to me, and 
 has never Ijrgotten the pains his mother 
 took witii him in his childhood ; noi 
 the exftoration 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 said, 
 " 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 ?" 
 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 paralyzec' 
 
 705 
 
353 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 by disease. He liad 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 co^fined to his room 
 and bed for some weeks. It is unne- 
 cessary to state, that in i\\e meantime, 
 his family must have felt the, loss of his 
 weekly labor and income. His wife, 
 on one occasion, went up stairs iht.o his 
 room weeping. " What is the mattei V' 
 said Jonathan, " what is distressing 
 thee ?" " Why, the children are cry- 
 ing for something to eat, and I have 
 nothing to give them," vvas the affecting 
 /•eply. "Hast thou faith in God?" 
 asked Jonathan. " Dost thou believe in 
 his providence, and in his word ? Has 
 he not said, ' Bread shall be given thee, 
 and thy water shall be sure?' Tsa. 
 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 
 Ihem any ; and I will also pray. Who 
 can tell what God may do ? 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 
 706 
 
 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-houfefj. Every thing without be- 
 spoke quielT^ess 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 
 
TRUST IN PROVIDENCE. 
 
 353 
 
 Instantly the farmer grasped his 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 habitations, 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- 
 li vereth them." 
 
 (e) INCIDENTS IN STILLING'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 
 there, 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- 
 fare now depended on his becoming a 
 physician ; and for this, a thousand dol- 
 lars 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-operation. 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 ?" When 
 they expressed anxiety, he said — " Be- 
 lieve assuredly that he who was able to 
 feed a thousand people with 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." 
 
 Forty-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 ?" 
 
 " I am going to Strasburg, to study 
 medicine." 
 
 " Where do you get your money to 
 study with ?" 
 
 " 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 dollara 
 707 
 
3^3 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 " Thank you," said Stilling, " I like 
 it very much." 
 
 Says Mr. R. — " I thought I would 
 ask you one other question ; have you 
 brought any money with you ?" 
 
 Stilling says he now felt like Habak- 
 kuk when the angel took him by the 
 hair of the head to carry him to Baby- 
 Ion. 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 paid his fee as well as the best. 
 
 (/) 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 
 T08 
 
 cottage, or rather hovel 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, but I 
 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 sallied 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. 
 
 ig) 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 200Z. a year for one that 
 yielded only 100/. per annum, that his 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 353, 354 
 
 usefulness might be increased ; and 
 afterwards for the same reason refused 
 a living of 300Z. 
 
 (Ii) THE SUFFERERS AT SIG- 
 ATEA. — During the 17th century, 
 while the Rev. Joim 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." 
 
 [i) 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 j£l,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 ? 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 doors of 
 relief for them. 
 
 S54. 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 have 
 been frightened away, and would 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. 
 
 (b) SKEPTICAL SAILOR CON- 
 VINCED — 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 off, I suppose 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 ! Toni, 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 birthpf 
 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. PUNCTUALITY. 
 
 (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." 
 
 (b) 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. 
 
 (c), 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 difficult 
 active engagements in which he was 
 710 
 
 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. 
 
 (d) 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 au'dience 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 wiio was notoriously defective in 
 this practice. 
 
 (e) 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 
 
PUNCTUALITY. 
 
 355 
 
 whatever makes me neglect them, they 
 will be ashamed to keep away on any 
 frivolous pretext." 
 
 (/) EXAMPLE OF WASHING- 
 TON. — When General Washington 
 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 of 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 him enter the room, he thus ad- 
 dressed him ; " Sir, the clock has 
 struck, and we are ready to begin ; but 
 as you were absent, we supposed the 
 clock was too fast, and therefore 
 waited." — The clock was actually too 
 fast by some minutes. 
 
 (h) 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 indisposition, 
 to commence at' the hour appointed. 
 His congregation became as punctual 
 and circumspect in other matters as in 
 their attendance at church ; for it is 
 almost impossible to be habitually punc- 
 tual in one class of duties and to be re- 
 miss in all others. 
 
 Ill 
 
356 
 
 PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE. 
 
 PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE. 
 
 S56. Because their Remorse is not Commcn- 
 snrate witli tlicir 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 meat 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 ! 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. 
 
 [b) THE PIRATE GIBBS.— This 
 man, whose name was for many years 
 
 712 
 
 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 I 
 
 (c) 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 ; and while 
 I was busy at work, some whey spurt- 
 ing from the cheese-press flew into my 
 mouth, and, wretched man, 1 swallow- 
 ed it. Free my distressed conscience 
 from its agonies by absolving me from 
 my guilt !" " Have you no other sins 
 to confess ?" 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 ? 
 
 (d) 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 lower upon 
 
CONSCIENCE NOT TROUBLESOME WHEN OFTEN 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 language I 
 employed." 
 
 Ul. Because Conscience is not Tronble- 
 some when often Violated. 
 
 (a) KILPIN'S THEFT OF A 
 PENNY.— 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 loft from a believing application 
 of the text, " Thy sins, which are many, 
 are forgiven." I went 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 
 
 sense of guilt and sof row for it as young 
 Kilpin had tor his theft of a penny. 
 
 {b) STEALING A LAMB AND 
 ASKING A BLESSING OVER IT. 
 — Thomas D. had a large family, and 
 
 lived in the parish of M , (Eng.) 
 
 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 those trials to the Lord in pray- 
 er, he sunk into a low state, little short 
 of desperation. This was Satan's op- 
 portunity. When 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 : he 
 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. 
 
 What 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 comfDuac- 
 tion, if at all. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
358, 359 PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE. 
 
 remorse of conscience than the 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 vi^as standing at 
 the door, and in a playful mood, pull- 
 ing 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 — acted 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- 
 punction. Justice, therefore, is not 
 done in this life, and it must be done in 
 another. 
 
 858. Because they take Dcliglit in their 
 wickedness. 
 
 (a) THE BLASPHEMOUS 
 THANKSGIVING.— One of the most 
 horrid circumstances attending the 
 dreadful massacres of the Protestants 
 under Charles IX of France, was, that 
 when the news of this event reached 
 Rome, Pope Gregory XIII instituted 
 the most solemn rejoicing, giving thanks 
 to Almighty God for this glorious vic- 
 tory over the heretics ! 
 714 
 
 (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 Jaffa, 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. 
 
 ^§9. Because they often Die in the very 
 act of Sin. 
 
 (a) DEA. EATON AND THE 
 INFIDEL. — 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 
 infidel's wife, and said to her, 'I hope 
 you will alter your belief before 1 see 
 you again.' He saw me talking to her, 
 and coming along, struck oft' my hand 
 with which I held hers, and said, 'Let 
 the woman alone. If you wish to at- 
 
PUNISHMENT, FUTURE. 
 
 360 
 
 tack any one, try me, but don't abuse 
 the woman." 
 
 I asked his pardon, and told him I 
 intended 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. 1 went on deck, 
 and sure enough the infidel was dead. 
 A gentleman with whom he was con- 
 versinjT, said he was railin": against me, 
 and saymg 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, but I 
 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. 
 One of the boatmen said to me, " It will 
 not do to fight against God." 
 
 (b) DYING WHILE BLASPHE- 
 MING. — A minister in a small seaport 
 town in Scotland, once furnished an ac- 
 count of a man, who for many years 
 was master of a coasting vessel, and an 
 inhabitant of that place. In his younger 
 days he made a profession of religion ; 
 {ind, among the small but respectable 
 body to which he belonged, he was 
 deemed an eminent Christian. He af- 
 terwards became a deist ! — nay, a pro- 
 fessed atheist, and made the existence 
 of the Deity and a future state the sub- 
 jects 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 
 before his death ? If not, then he was 
 punished afterwards. 
 
 (c) DYING DEAD DRUNK.— 
 George Davidson, aged about 36 years, 
 
 of Fryeburg village, Maine, had been 
 in the habit, for a long time, of drink- 
 ing to excess occasionally ; 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 
 I drink another glass of rum, I 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 ? 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 o^ God ? Will he say to 
 such, " Come, ye blessed ?" 
 
 360. Punishment, Fntnre. 
 
 (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 
 Charlesf how tenderly I have loved you, 
 is but too evident from the state to which 
 you now see me reduced ; and so long 
 as I 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. 
 
 (b) PRESIDENT N— AND THE 
 RESTORATIONIST.-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 ihe 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, 1 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?" "What do you believe." 
 " Why I believe that mankind will be 
 judged 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 ? 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, 
 (c) 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 innoii^nt children ?" 
 " They went to heaven," replied the 
 father. " What became of the wicked 
 old uncle ?" "He went to heaven 
 too." " Won't he kill them again, 
 father?" said the bov. 
 
 (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 ?" 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 oui 
 race, how could Christ, after his many 
 positive declarations to the contrary, 
 hold up his head before his people in the 
 future world?" 
 
 36L QUARRELS. 
 
 (a) ARISTIPPUS AND ^SCHI- 
 
 NES. — Aristippus and iEschines having 
 quarreled, Aristippus came to his op- 
 ponent and said : — " ^schines, shall we 
 be friends ?" " Yes," he replied, " with 
 all my heart." " But remember," said 
 Aristippus, "that I being older than 
 you, do make the first motion." 
 " Yes," replied ^schines, " and there- 
 fore I conclude that you are the worth- 
 716, 
 
 iest man ; for I began the strife, and 
 you began the peace." 
 
 (b) 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 
 
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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 several 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 Vv-ere answered in the affirm- 
 ative. I then asked if they lived in 
 peace together. The man answered, 
 ' sometimes I say a word my wife no 
 likt or my wife talk or do what I no 
 likv but when we want to quarrel we 
 sha.ve hands together, shut the door, 
 and go to prayer, and so we get peace 
 again,' This method of keeping 
 peace quite delighted me." 
 
 {(1) 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, Gerald, the younger, being be- 
 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. This hurt 
 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? Did he 
 
 cry out, and strike back ? 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. 
 Wright, 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." 
 
 " What did they do that for ?" I asked. 
 
 " On purpose to plague me^" said he ; 
 " but I will cut it loose, and let it go 
 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 you should be to 
 them. Besides, how do you know they 
 did it to vex and trouble you ?" 
 
 " 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 ?" 
 
 " They will not comply, rf I do," 
 said the angry boy, " and they will do so 
 again." 
 
 "Well, try it for once," said i. 
 " Just run your boat a little 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 
 
363 
 
 REASON, INSUFFICIENCY OF. 
 
 quietly and pleasantly pulling at his 
 oars, 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) "WHAT IS GOD?"— Simo- 
 nides, a heathen poet, being asked by 
 Hiero, king of Syracuse, What 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 ? 
 To which the poet answered, " The 
 more I think of God, he is still the more 
 dark and unknown to me." 
 
 (b) 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 topic 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 
 
 718 
 
 plain and easy a business as yours, how 
 can you imagine that it should be suf- 
 ficient, without Divine assistance, to 
 guide you to heaven ?" The deist was 
 confounded. 
 
 (c) PAINE'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. Staugliton, 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 awav. 
 
 (d) 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 John Pringle,) who had been pro- J 
 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 moralittf, 
 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 
 Moral, or Man's Duties founded upon 
 
RECONCILIATION TO GOD— RELIGION. 
 
 363, 364 
 
 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 Bihle, 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 
 •' esus. 
 
 (b) PEACE WITH GOD AND 
 CONSCIENCE. — "When I used to 
 go," said a man who formerly lived in 
 sin, " to all kinds of fairs, and revels, 
 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 visit 
 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- 
 cy ! — 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 efficiency have 
 characterized its followers. A dis- 
 
 charged soldier had been a notorious 
 Sabbath-breaker. He M^as 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 
 
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 lie 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. 
 
 (b) METHODISTS ACCUSED 
 AND ACQUITTED.— In an early 
 period of the ministry of the Iflev. 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, 
 " Why, 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 
 ccmvaried 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," 
 720 
 
 replied the justice, " and let them con- 
 vert all the scolds in the town." 
 
 (c) 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 wo- 
 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. 
 
 Id) 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 ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the Missionary, " 1 
 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 ?" 
 
 " 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 ?" 
 
 " I remember it all very well," re- 
 plied the Missionary. 
 
RELIGION, REFORMING POWER OF. 
 
 364 
 
 " Well," the Indian continued, weep- 
 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 ? 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, and I can 
 trust him with any thing ; 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 ; many o^ 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 
 46 
 
 a gift in prayer, as to be engaged, on 
 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- 
 ly and seriously performed. O, my 
 dear sir, rejoice with me, and let us ex- 
 alt his name together !" 
 
 {g) RELIGION ON SHIP-BOARD. 
 — " 1 have lately had the honor," said 
 Captain Parry, at a public meeting in 
 1826, " and 1 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 ; 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 hinderance 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 incite him to their performance, 
 from the highest and most powerful of 
 motives ; 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 ; 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, witJiout 
 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 hesitation, 
 on two or three individuals possessing 
 dispositions and sentiments eminently 
 Christian.^' 
 
 721 
 
365 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 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." 
 
 (h) 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." 
 
 (c) SABAT'S WRETCHEDNESS. 
 — After poor Sabat, an Arabian, who 
 had professed fliith 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 ; in 
 reply Xo which he said, " I am unhap- 
 py ! I have a mountain of burning 
 sand on my head ! When I go aboui^ 
 I know not what I am doing." It is 
 indeed " an evil thing and bitter to for- 
 sake the Lord our God." 
 
 {d) A MODERN JUDAS.— John 
 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 
 722 " 
 
 pretensions of brotherly love, could pre- 
 vail on him to return to Popery, feigned 
 to take a most friendly and affectionate 
 farewell, and then departed. Having 
 soon returned, he sent in the ruffians 
 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 
 J_^OST. — James Le Fevre, 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 v/ith 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 con- 
 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.— John 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 
 
REPENTANCE. 
 
 366 
 
 was the intense working of his mind. 
 Opening his keen eyes upon the doctor, 
 he said, sharply, " rewor^e" — soon af- 
 terward more emphatically, " remorse" 
 — presently at the top of his strength, 
 he cried out, " RExMORSE." He then 
 added, " Let me see the 2oord." The 
 doctor not comprehending his desire, 
 made no reply. Randolph then said to 
 him with great energy, " Let ine see 
 the word. Show me it in a Diction- 
 ary.'^ 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 
 I with great earnestness, seemed much 
 I agitated. After a few seconds, he 
 i 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." 
 
 360. 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 run to 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 I had 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. 1 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?" 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 hoy will see his father svffer great 
 pain for the want of that medicine .'" 
 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. 
 
 in 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 hea(^ 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 1 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. O 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 ! 
 I crept in once more and heard the 
 minister pray for " the dying man." 
 
 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 oui, " O here 
 father," — but I was hushed: and I then 
 saw that he was pale, and that all in the 
 room were weeping. My dear father was 
 dead ! And the last thing I ever spake 
 to him was to tell a lie ! 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 forthe want of that medicine ;" 
 
 1 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. My 
 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 father. It took me a 
 good while to find it ; but there it was, 
 with its humble tomb-stone, and as I 
 stood over it, I seemed to be back at his 
 724 
 
 bed-side, to see his pale face, and hear 
 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.'" 
 
 {b) KILPIN'S PENITENT 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. I am very sorry 1 have of- 
 fended you, I hope you will forgive me : 
 I think I shall never offend again." 
 
 I replied,' " 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 has forgiven me, and 
 now I am happy !" I never had again 
 occasion to look at him with a shade of 
 disapprobation. 
 
 (c) MOST DELIGHTFUL EMO- 
 TION.— " Which is the most delight- 
 ful emotion ?" said an instructor of the 
 
REPENTANCE 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, in which her compan- 
 ions doubtless participated, and asked, 
 " Why ?" " Oh," said she, in the ex- 
 pressive languasje of looks and gestures, 
 which marks these mutes — " It is so 
 delightful to be humbled before God !" 
 {d) A GREAT SINxNER AND NO 
 SINNER. — A woman professing to be 
 under deep conviction, went to a minis- 
 ter, crying aloud tliat 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 on 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, 
 " Sir, must I die 1 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 
 up, as it were, at once, to a full sense 
 of thedreadful reality. " Must I then go 
 into Eternity in an hour ? Must I ap- 
 pear before my God and Judge in an 
 hour ? God knows that I have made no 
 preparations for this event. I knew 
 
 that impenitent youth were sometimes 
 cut off thus suddenly, but it never enter- 
 ed my mind that I was to be one of the 
 number. And now what shall I do to 
 be saved ?" He was told that he must 
 repent and believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. •' But how shall I repent and 
 believe ? 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 now 
 crowded into one short hour — and that 
 is an hour of mental agony and distrac- 
 tion." - Friends were weeping around, 
 and running to and fro in the frenzy of 
 grief. The poor sufferer, 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. 
 
 (h) MR. BOOTH'S TESTIMO- 
 NY. — " 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." 
 
 (c) 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. 
 
 {d) TESTIMONY OF AN ENG- 
 LISH PHYSICIAN.— A pious English 
 physician once stated that he had known 
 725 
 
368 
 
 REPROOF OF SIN. 
 
 some three hundred sick persons who, 
 soon expecting to die, had been led, as 
 they supposed, to repentance of their 
 sins, and saving faith in Christ, but had 
 eventually been restored to health again. 
 Only ten of all this number, so far as 
 
 he knew, gave any evidence of being 
 really regenerated. Soon after their 
 recovery, they plunged, as a general 
 thing, into the follies and vices of the 
 world. Who would trust, then, in such 
 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 affairs, 
 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 : " Whoremongers 
 and adulterers God will judge I" 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. 
 
 {b) 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 Iiim, 
 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." 
 
 (c) "SIR, I FEAR GOD."— On 
 
 one ogcasion, the Rev. A. Fuller, 
 
 when traveling in the Portsmouth mail, 
 
 was much annoyed by the profane con- 
 
 726 
 
 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. 
 
 {d) 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 ? " 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." " Wliere were you when he 
 robbed you ?" " t 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 ?" " It was the 
 Lord's day evening, my lord." " How 
 had you been employed when he robbed 
 you ?" " 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." When 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 
 
FAITHFULNESS AND FIRMNESS IN REPROVING. 
 
 368 
 
 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 1 ? Am 1 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 
 hearinof an ased 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." 
 (e) 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, 1 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. 
 
 ( f) THE SABBATH SCHOOL 
 GIRL AND HER PROFANE FATH- 
 ER. — In the town of W — , Connecticut, 
 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 proftmity and scofTing 
 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 slie 
 
 went into the meadow and asked them 
 if they did not know it was wicked to 
 use such profane language ? 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 day 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 thing 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- 
 flect 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 clasping 
 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 of 
 ansels ! He carried his little daughter 
 727 
 
369, 370 
 
 REPROOF OF SIN. 
 
 home in his arms, and ere long obtain- 
 ed forgiveness 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 SAILOR'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 I speak 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. O 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 
 728 
 
 Christ, and putting on his hat he walk- 
 ed away. 
 
 (h) 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 and 
 kindly. Soon the pistol fell to the 
 ground ; the tears began to flow ; and 
 the robber was overcome. He handed 
 the money all back with the remark, 
 " I cannot rob a man of such princi- 
 ples." 
 
 (c) DR. JOHNSON AND PRO- 
 FANITY. — Dr. Johnson never suffered 
 an oath to pass un rebuked 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 ; 
 I 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. 
 
 S70. Skill and Prudence in Reproring. 
 
 (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 
 
SKILL AND PRUDENCE IN REPROVING. 
 
 S70 
 
 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 office 
 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 !" 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 loo." " Eh !" replied the miller, 
 turning up his face. " A defect that is 
 likely to counterbalance all its advanta- 
 ges." " Well, 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. " Ft goes on the Sabbath !" 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. 
 
 (b) DR. GIFFORD'S REPROOF 
 OF PROFANITY.— As the Rev. Dr. 
 Gliford 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 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. 
 
 (c) 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 ?" '' Do not fear, replied Mr. M., 
 " all will be over in a little while." 
 Still, however, the gentleman continued 
 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 
 officer, 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) WESLEY, AND A YOUNG 
 OFFICER.— The Rev. John Wesley 
 once traveled in a stage coach with a 
 young officer, who swore and uttered 
 curses upon himself in almost every 
 sentence. Mr. W. asked him if he 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- 
 MAN. — At the time when the Confor- 
 mity Bill was debated in Parliament, 
 Mr. Howe passed a noble lord in a chair 
 in St. James's Park, who sent his foot- 
 man to call him, desiring to speak with 
 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 ditTerence 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, 1 have 
 more reason to thank your lordship for 
 saving me the most difficult part of a 
 discourse, which is the application." 
 
 (g) MEMNON AND HIS SOL- 
 DIER. — During the war between Al- 
 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. Plowe 
 being at dinner with some persons of 
 fashion, a gentleman expatiated largely 
 in prai'se 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 omitted 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 
 off the practice. 
 
 730 
 
 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 SILENCED.— 
 As a minister was on his way from one 
 town to another, for several miles his 
 ears were assailed by oaths too awful to 
 mention : how to stop 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 ho 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 a great 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, but 
 would briefly explain the meaning of 
 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 they did as they said. One 
 loquacious gentleman, who had inter- 
 larded almost every sentence with oaths, 
 now sat silent; even the coachman 
 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- 
 
SKILL AND PRUDENCE IN REPROVING. 
 
 STO 
 
 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 hijTi for 
 his company, and hoped they should not 
 forget his advice. How important is it 
 to use prudence with zeal ! 
 
 (j) 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." 
 
 (k) TARRYING AT JERICHO— 
 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 office of much 
 consequence, the King was offended at 
 the presumption and intportunity of so 
 young a man, and instead of any an- 
 swer to the petition, ho 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 vour beards be grown." 
 
 (/) 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 ; 
 and, among other topics, made himself 
 merry with the story of David and Go- 
 liath, strongly urging the impossibility 
 of a youth like David being able to throw 
 a stone with sufficient force to sink into 
 the giant's forehead. On this he ap- 
 pealed to the company, and particularly 
 
 to a grave Quaker gentleman, who sat 
 silent in one corner of the carriage. 
 " Indeed, friend," replied he, " I do not 
 think it at all improbable, if the Philis- 
 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 ! '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." Oa this 
 the boy, who had previously seemed as 
 hard as a flint, began to soften. The 
 doctor proceeded : " Well, laddie, where 
 is your mother V "On her voyage 
 home from India, sir." " Ay ! 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 ?" 
 " 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. Win- 
 na ye break your poor mother's heart, 
 think ye ? Just think o' that, my lad." 
 The poor culprit burst into a flood of 
 tears, acknowledged his fault, and pro- 
 mised amendment. 
 
 On one occasion, a young minister 
 having animadverted, in the presence of 
 731 
 
3T0, 371 
 
 REPROOF OF SIN. 
 
 Dr. 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. W. 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 1 would 
 recommend to your consideration : ' The 
 spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to en- 
 vy.' " 
 
 (n) 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 ; " 1 
 wish relisjion to change you." 
 
 (o) 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. Wesley 
 could have conceived a reproof in such 
 a manner." 
 
 732 
 
 (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." 
 
 iq) 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." " Well," 
 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 ?" inquired the jock- 
 ey. " In the State Prison," returned 
 the clergyman. 
 
 m. Happy Effects of Reproving. 
 
 (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. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 371, 372 
 
 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 
 the 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. 
 
 (b) ALLEINE'S REPROOF.— The 
 Rev. Joseph AUeino was very faithful 
 and impartial ih 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 make 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
 to the house of a very wealthy 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 tinie : 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. 
 
 {d) MARTIN AND THE GOWNS- 
 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 men labored 
 together in India in extending the know- 
 ledge of the Lord Jesus. 
 
 m. 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 
 
 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 forget 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 16*. 
 6d. 
 
 (h) A PENITENT YOUNG JEW. 
 — A young Jew, who had been admitted 
 into an asylum for the benefit of that 
 nation, near Dusseldorf, in the Prus- 
 sian dominions, after having- long given 
 734 
 
 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 whhout 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- 
 
RESTITUTION. 
 
 373 
 
 ow did not prosecute him, he would, by 
 his labor, pay the debt due to her. 
 
 (c) SIXTY POUNDS RESTORED. 
 — A gentleman residing in the vicinity 
 of York once received an anonymous 
 letter, appointing a meeting in the oat- 
 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. 
 I now 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 
 circumstances then occurred to the gen- 
 tleman's mind, which left no doubt of 
 the truth of the stranger's story. 
 
 (d) 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 made 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 oMmer. 
 
 (e) 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. 
 
 (/) 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 justice. 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- 
 fect 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 1 
 
 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 
 going from street to street and house to 
 786 
 
 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 sewing. 
 
 (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 Mr. 
 A — , his employer. It was Mr. A — 's 
 custom to settle with his workmen but 
 once a year. 
 
 At one time, a few months before the 
 time for settlement arrived, Mr. 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 against 
 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. He 
 remained afterwards a consistent fol- 
 lower of Christ. 
 
RESTITUTION. 
 
 373 
 
 (A) 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 
 — , that God thus deals 
 
 often, Mr. - 
 with a soul so deeply humbled as yours, 
 and in his own appointed way seeking 
 redemption. Sir, there must be a 
 cause. You iiave 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, t 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 unpardoned, un- 
 saved." 
 
 Dr. Clarke suggested to the 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. 
 
 (i) 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 elie 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 affluence, 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 wheti 
 her means were so circumscribed. " Ah ! 
 sir," she affectingly replied, " then I had 
 the shilling means, but the guinea 
 heart ; now I 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, but I 
 live in constant apprehension that I may 
 come to want !" Can any reader be at a 
 loss to decide which was the time of her 
 poverty and which of her riches ? 
 
 (b) 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 
 
 738 
 
 the place. The cajstle 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 that I was walking through his 
 castle, he himself was not permitted to 
 enter it ! 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 of 
 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, yet 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, nor 
 
RICHES. 
 
 374 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) THE MERCHANT AND THE 
 " WHITE STONE."— In the strait 
 between Johor and Rhio, there is a 
 small white rock, called the " White j 
 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) " IT WILL 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 ! it will not do !" 
 
 (e) THE RICH 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 I want 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. " Why, 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 the nobleman, 
 and through the blessing of God termi- 
 nated in his conversion. 
 
 ( /) THE NOBLEMAN 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." '•' Well, 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, dving of disease, 
 739 
 
374, 375 
 
 RIDICULE. 
 
 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 a good 
 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 grace." 
 
 (h) CECIL'S RICH HEARER.— 
 Mr. Cecil had a rich hearer, who, when 
 a young man had solicited his advice, 
 but who had not, for some time, had an 
 interview with him. Mr. C. one day 
 went to hi-s 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." " ] thought it was probable you 
 were not ; and therefore I have called 
 on you. I hear you are getting rich ; 
 take care, for it is the road by which 
 
 j the devil leads thousands to destruction !" 
 ! This was spoken with such solemnity 
 j and earnestness, that it made a deep and 
 lasting impression. 
 
 (zV FULLER'S QUESTION.— 
 " This morning," says Mr. Fuller, " I 
 have read another of Edwards' sermons, 
 on God the Christianas Portion, from 
 Psalm Ixxiii. 25. The latter part comes 
 very close, and 1 feel myself at a loss 
 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 7nuch of God ? I am confident 
 the practice of great numbers of pro- 
 fessing Christians declares that they 
 prefer the former ; and in some in- 
 stances 1 feel guiltv of the same thing." 
 (j) " P O S S E S S I N G ALL 
 THINGS."— 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 f sir, I was just thinking what a 
 change it will he from the poor-house to 
 
 HEAVEN 
 
 f" 
 
 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. On being asked if these 
 740 
 
 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 
 
ROBBERS— ROBBERY. 
 
 3T5, SrO 
 
 last we dropped into hell, they could 
 not laugh us out again." 
 
 (h) 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 an humble lodging to 
 join 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 ? 
 What if he had gained the whole world, 
 and could have put it round him ? 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 mercy, and instead of ten, alloted 
 him four years in the state penitentiary. 
 
 A struggle now commenced in the fel- 
 on's heart which finally ended in sui- 
 cide. 
 
 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 
 
977 
 
 RULE, GOLDEN, THE. 
 
 his father's house. He made Dumfries 
 in 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 ?" " Oh ! cruel woman !'"' said 
 the father, with grief, " how can you 
 mention his name to me ? 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 
 
 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. Forgath, he was per- 
 suaded to a reconciliation. 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 sav 
 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. 
 
 (a) GOLDEN RULE VIOLA- 
 TED. — The manner in which some 
 professed Christians violate the golden 
 rule in their business transactions, is 
 deeply to be regretted as evidence of 
 the bluntness of their moral perceptions, 
 as a disgrace to the cause of true reli- 
 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 coins, 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 850 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 
 742 
 
 had said nothing in commendation of it. 
 But on reading some of your remarks I 
 fear I have done wrong. Pray what is 
 your opinion ?" The editor promptly 
 replies, " My opinion is that you did a 
 moral wrong. You have not done to 
 another what you would have done to 
 you ?" 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- 
 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, 1 was deceived : but he 
 is a good looking horse ; and I think by 
 putting him into the hands of your auc- 
 tioneer I can sell him for cost." " You 
 
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN. 
 
 371', JJ78 
 
 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 ! Fluently and conscientiously 
 passing a cheat upon themselves, and 
 acting the villain under the guise of hon- 
 esty and fair dealing. How differs such a 
 transaction in principle from robbery ? 
 Touch such a transaction with the gol- 
 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. 
 
 {h) 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 diffusing 
 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 hi& 
 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!" " 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. 
 
 178. Physical Benefits to Domestic Ani- 
 mals. 
 
 {a) THE DROVERS AND 
 THEIR SHEEP.— Two neighbors in 
 the state of New- 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. 
 
 (J) 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 ?" " 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." 
 
 (c) THE VICTORIOUS TRAV- 
 ELER. — A gentleman started from 
 Connecticut with his family for Ohio. 
 He was on the road 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. 
 
 (d) MANUFACTURERS AND 
 THEIR TEAMS.— A manufacturing 
 company, which had been accustomed 
 to 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 v/ith 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 
 a week, 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 
 gainer. 
 
 (/) EXPERIMENT WITH CAT- 
 TLE. — A number of men started to- 
 gether from Ohio, with droves of cattle 
 ibr 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 impressed were the 
 others with the benefits of thus keeping 
 the Sabbath, that ever afterwards they 
 followed his example. 
 744 
 
 m. 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 
 
 I 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. 
 
 (c) RESULT OF EXPERIENCE. 
 — In 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 their 
 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 by 
 
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 3T9 
 
 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- 
 MONS.— 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 i\ndrew Agnew, Sir Robert Peel, 
 Sir Robert Inglis, Sir Thomas Baring, 
 Sir George Murray, Powell 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- 
 ance of the seventh day of rest during 
 this time. I have been in the habit, 
 during a great many years, of consi- 
 dering the tLses of the Sabbath, and of 
 observing its abuses. The abuses are 
 chiefly manifested in labor and dissipa- 
 pation. Its 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 inadecpiate 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 tlie premature 
 destruction of it a suicidal act." 
 
 (/) 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. Will men who labor but six days 
 in a week be 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? 
 
 The vote on the above was unani- 
 mously in the affirmative ; 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 religious 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 Ihem 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 of bodily strength, 
 which was visible to the most casual 
 observer. Such a course will always 
 demoralize men, and diminish their 
 strength. 
 
 %m. Iiitcllectiial Benefits. 
 
 {a) TESTIMONY OF WILBER- 
 FORCE.— The celebrated Wilberforco 
 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 
 746 
 
 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 of 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- 
 becoming 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 has 
 been invaluable. ^^ 
 
 (b) MAKING BRIEFS ON SUN- 
 DAY.— The distinguished Dr. Wilson, 
 Pastor of the first Presbyterian Church 
 in Philadelphia, for a number of years 
 before he became a preacher of the gos- 
 pel, was an eminent lawyer in the state 
 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 his 
 uniform failure, and came to the conclu- 
 sion that it might be, and probably was 
 on account of his violation of the Sab- 
 bath by employing it in secular busi- 
 ness. He therefore, from that time, 
 abandoned the practice of doing any 
 thing for his clients on that day. The 
 difficulty ceased. His efforts on Mon- 
 day were as successful as on other days. 
 Such were the facts in his case, and 
 many others have testified to similar 
 facts in their experience. 
 
 (c) TESTIMONY OF A FINAN- 
 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- 
 
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 3§0, 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 
 grave." 
 
 {d) FRUITFUL CAUSE OF IN- 
 SANITY. — 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 is 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 OPINION.— 
 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 ihe 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 
 rest 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 he ac- 
 complished, and he hetter done ; more 
 health would he enjoyed, with more of 
 wealth and independence, and we should 
 have far less of crime, and poverty and 
 suffering. ^^ 
 
 381. Providential Benefits. 
 
 (a) THE CONSCIENTIOUS ES- 
 QUIMAUX.— In December, says Mr. 
 Barsoe, the Missionary, a pleasing cir- 
 cumstance occurred ; 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. We were, there- 
 fore, not a little pleased to learn that a 
 meeting of flithers 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 in a 
 manner becoming the disciples of Christ, 
 who were invited thankfully to comme- 
 morate his coming into the world to save 
 sinners. They expressed their belief 
 that their Heavenly Father was able to 
 grant them, on Monday, a sufficiency 
 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 pre- 
 747 
 
3S1 
 
 SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN. 
 
 elude any further attempts to take 
 seals. 
 
 (b) 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 ; 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. 
 
 (c) 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 engaging 
 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 ordinary duties of our 
 profession on the Sunday ever supposed, 
 eventually, to have been a loss to us ; for 
 we in general found, that, if others who 
 were less regardful, or had not the same 
 view of the obligatory nature of the 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, I found that the restraint put 
 upon the natural inclinations of the men 
 for pursuing the fishery at all opportuni- 
 
 748"' 
 
 ties, acted with some advantage, by prov- 
 ing an extraordinary stimulus to their ex- 
 ertions when they were next sent out after 
 whales. Were 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 striking, 
 that there was not, I believe, a man in the 
 ship who did not consider it the effect of 
 the divine blessing." 
 
 (d) 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 Vv^as much straitened in her circum- 
 stances ; but this did not continue : the 
 Lord 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 
 
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 3§1 
 
 her annuity, and told him the Lord had 
 so blessed her in her circumstances, 
 that 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, to 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 \vind 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 sliip 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. Ft 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- 
 take not, was rice. 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 Bal- 
 tic after those of A. and B. had pur- 
 chased their freight, and nearly loaded. 
 Fortune, or to speak more properly. 
 Providence operated here 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 cleared 
 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. 
 
 (/) THE HIDE TRADERS AND 
 THE SABBATH.— I was in command 
 
 of a vessel, says Capt. S., of W , 
 
 Mass., engaged in the Hide trade, be- 
 tween N and a port in Brazil. In 
 
 performing one of those voyages, several 
 occurrences took place strictly 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 steve- 
 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 for 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 
 
3S1 
 
 SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN. 
 
 round again, and that the stevedore 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 ? 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 ? It was not to 
 be thought of, and hoisting the Bethel 
 flag as an invitation for our shipmates 
 to 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- j 
 spect to loading. I 
 
 We had now to obtain a pilot and get I 
 750 
 
 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, loo, the principle of ro- 
 tation was rigidly enforced. The 
 winds, meanwhile, when fair, were 
 short-lived and feeble, and the har 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 him- 
 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. We M^ere 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 t/ie7i 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 
 
EXAMPLES OF THE CONSCIENTIOUS, ETC. 
 
 3§1, 383 
 
 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 davs 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 miraculous. 
 
 Examples like the above might be 
 multiplied to almost any extent. So 
 far as I can learn by diligent inquiry. 
 
 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 7nore 
 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 fished on the 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. We 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. 
 
 M. Examples of the Conscientious, &e. 
 
 (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 
 
382 
 
 SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN. 
 
 have been as full of secular business, 
 both 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, if I 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, w|ien 
 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." 
 
 {h) WASHINGTON'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. 
 The 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- 
 mgton might receive instruction and 
 reproof from his example ! 
 
 (c) 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,"! 
 take it for granted that you do not in- 
 752 
 
 tend to go." Such was her confidence 
 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 Jiis 
 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 you think- 
 so. I think so myself. That 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 \vished 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. 
 
 (d) 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 
 
EVILS OF SABBATH-BREAKING. 
 
 3S3 
 
 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 
 .chiefly owned in the village, which left 
 the port regularly every Sabbath morn- 
 ing. 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 
 sinner. 
 
 One Saturday night about sunset, an 
 estimable member of his church called 
 to ask his advice. Fie 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 go on 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 
 command 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 
 48 
 
 to Thursday. And the following year, 
 their boat was regularly laid by every 
 Sabbath through the season. 
 
 EVILS OF SABBATH-BREAKING. 
 383. Vice and Crime. 
 
 (a) ENGLISH CRIMINALS.— A 
 
 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 ruin. 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 Sabbath the 
 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 of ten who were brought to a sense 
 of their condition attributed the greater 
 part of their departure from God to their 
 neglect of the Sabbath. 
 
 \b) 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. 
 
 (c) 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^ 
 753 
 
383, 3§ 4 
 
 SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN. 
 
 says, that he does not recollect a single 
 case of capita] 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 all 
 classes, nineteen out of twenty have ne- 
 glected the Sabbath and other ordinances 
 of religion. And he has often met 
 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 Sa.bbath, and 
 were not in the habit of attending public 
 20orship." 
 
 (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'tv/enty-six4iad 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 thad 
 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 
 clerk? 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, 
 a preacher of some note in the metro- 
 polis, is evening lecturer here ; and we 
 754 
 
 had a sermon from him in behalf of a 
 parochial charity, by which fifty-one 
 poor boys of the parish are supported 
 and educated. Pie took occasion to re- 
 mark, that his official situation (as 
 chaplain to Newgate) often led him 
 to hear the confessions of malefactors, 
 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. 
 
 S84. 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 andljarried it into his barn- 
 yard, which was filled with combustibles, 
 and, before he was aware of it, the flames 
 were bursting out of liis 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." 
 
 (c) FAILURES OF SABBATH- 
 BREAKERS.— The following fact, 
 communicated by a respectable mer- 
 chant of New- York, is well worthy of 
 notice : — " I have particularly observ- 
 ed," says the gentleman, "that those 
 merchants in New-York who have kept 
 their counting-rooms open on the Sab- 
 
SABBATH-BREAKING UNNECESSARY. 
 
 3S4, 3§5 
 
 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 therefoVe asked, " What do 
 you expect to do to-morrow ?" He 
 said, " I expect to stop, and keep the 
 Sabbath. 1 used to worl;: on the Sab- 
 bath, and often obtained higher wages 
 than on other days. But I so often lost, 
 during the week, more than all I could 
 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 
 so. 
 
 (O 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 again, or sufter my men to work 
 on that day. And I never have." He 
 fmds 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. Ail 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. I can recollect 
 men who, when I was a boy, used to 
 load their vessels down on the Long 
 
 Wharf, and keep their men at work 
 from 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 
 pedier, was about to commence the 
 journey, and informed him that it would 
 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 1 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." 
 
 38§. Sabbath-breaking 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. FL 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 
 
385 
 
 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 1 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 ?" " 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. 
 I would 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 morninir. 
 
 (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 
 other day, not a pennv in a shilling of 
 756' 
 
 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, I offended 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 e^^r." 
 
 (c) 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 he 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 thai he should make 
 no charge 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 vi- 
 sits 071 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 of 
 a few extreme cases, he could have his 
 
SABBATH-BREAKERS REPROVED. 
 
 S§.5, 3§6 
 
 Sabbaths for religious uses, and regu- 
 larly attend public worship. 
 
 (d) THE MINISTER HIRING 
 HIS NEIGHBOR.— 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 
 tiie 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 
 1 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 ; 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, " but I 
 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 
 WIFE. — A pious man came into west- 
 ern New- York, from one of the New 
 England States. He was then perfectly 
 blind. 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 Word 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 ot 
 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 form- 
 ed in that place, as the fruits of that re- 
 757 
 
386, 3§'7 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 vival. There was no regular preach- , 
 ing in the place previously, and it was | 
 evidently through the instrumentality j 
 of this blind man and his wife. That j 
 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. 
 
 (b) 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 caus.e, and was be- 
 sides rather indolent, desiring the minis- 
 
 ter td 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 ?" said Mr. Cru- 
 den. " Yes," replied Mr. Wilson. 
 " 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 docs 
 not labor six days pf the week, he is 
 not likely to rest properly on the se- 
 venth." 
 
 (c) THE LOST MOTION. — A 
 motion was once made in the House of 
 Commons for raising and embodying 
 the militia, and, for the purpose of 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. 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOL^. 
 
 VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC. 
 
 387. In Promoting Religions Knowledge and 
 Intellectual Culture. 
 
 (a) THE "TENNESSEE TES- 
 TAMENT."— In 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 to join the school. 
 He replied promptly in the affirmative. 
 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- 
 758 
 
 son that he was compelled to labor dur- 
 ing the week for his livelihood, that ho 
 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 
 coun|cnance 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 tlie 
 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 ac- 
 customed to read in Tennessee. 
 
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC. 
 
 38T 
 
 (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, &c. 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 tlie 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 
 BLLND AND DEAF.— A writer in 
 ''The Children's Friend," for 183S, 
 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. No. She burst in- 
 to tears, and wept aloud in all the bit- 
 terness of despair. "What!" said she, 
 " shall I never again sec the light of 
 day, nor hear a human voice ? Must I 
 remain incapable 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 iphy and care for her. She 
 was entirely dependent upon a few pi- 
 ous friends for her support. This she 
 felt, and continued to weep, till 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 ?" Sbe 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 be." "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 
 slie had committed to memory those 
 passages of Scripture which now became 
 her comfort. With 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 etefnal 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 1" was her constant lan- 
 guage. 
 
 (d) 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 
 
3§8, S89 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 ing of the benefits derived from the 
 school, he said he 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 search 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." 
 
 S88. 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 fijospel of salvation. 
 
 (h) DYING GIRL AND HER 
 FATHER.— 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 ?" and such like ex- 
 pressions. Her death was caused by 
 760 
 
 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 sol- 
 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 word 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. 
 — In 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? 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 into hell with all the nations 
 that forget God," erected the family al- 
 tar, and gave pleasing evidence that he 
 had commenced a new life. The whole 
 moral character of that neigborhood is 
 radically changed. 
 
 3S9. In Promoting Benevolence and other 
 
 Virtues. 
 
 {a) THE LITTLE GIRL AND 
 
 THE LOS^r POCKET-BOOK.— A 
 
 gentlemen jumping from an omnibus 
 
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC. 
 
 389 
 
 in the city of New- York, dropped 
 his pocket-book, and had gone some 
 (]istance 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 often years old, to whom he 
 made the same inquiry, she asked, 
 -' what kind of a pocket-book ?" He 
 described it — ^then unfolding her apron, 
 '• is this it ?" " Yes, that is mine ; come 
 into this store with me." They entered, 
 lie 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, " 1 cannot ^ke 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- 
 piness by sending her to Sunday school. 
 
 {b) ORIGIN OF A MISSIONARY 
 SOCIETY.— The Rev. Richard Knill 
 writes, in January, 1837, — " There is 
 a town in England where the Sunday 
 
 scholatrs are showing their love to the 
 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 the children began 
 to be very desirous to havp 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 I do ? If the love of Christ had 
 been enkindled in the breasts of those 
 of tenderest yeai*s, 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 !' " 
 
 fc)" 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 too interesting 
 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 
 
389 
 
 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. No father owned him for a 
 son ; but the Sunday school was to him 
 as a father, a sister 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." 
 
 (d) 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- 
 ing, he laid the sixpence on^the step, 
 and shut the door ; there it was found 
 by the servant, some hours afterwards ; 
 762 
 
 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 impropriety of 
 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 ho 
 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 mfstaken 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 tiie 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- 
 huiion-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 of 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 tlie Sabbath, gave 
 it to her mother, and told her that if she 
 died before 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 into 
 the treasury of the Lord. 
 
 (/) LITTLE BOY AND HIS 
 TRACT.— A little boy, belonging to a 
 
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 Lord'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 slie 
 saw the gentleman, and went out of the 
 room. " Who is that child ?" the gentle- 
 man asked. " O sir !" 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 
 felt 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 V 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 wddows 
 in their affliction.' " " Well," said he, 
 " and did you give her any money?" 
 " Yes, sir." " And where did you get 
 it ? " Sir, it was given me as a re- 
 ward." 
 
 (h) LITTLE PEACE-MAKER.— 
 A gentleman, once speaking at a Bible 
 Society meeting, stated, that a little 
 time previously he had called in at one 
 of the Sunday schools in South wark ; 
 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 ?" 
 said he. " Why, 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. What 
 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.' " 
 
 (/) SCHOLARS AND THEIR SICK 
 TEACHER.— A number of boys, who 
 had been taught in a Sabbath school 
 near Sheffield, England, met in a field ; 
 and instead of spending their money in 
 oranges, on what is called Slirove- 
 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 
 tlirew 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 thou shalt be 
 fed." 
 
 (?) THE BOY AND HIS FAR- 
 THINGS.— At the anniversary of a 
 763 
 
3S9 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 Sunday school, at Copthall, 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. 
 
 (k) SATURDAY EVENING 
 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 ?" " Sir, 1 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 aw, she befran with a Satur- 
 day evening school." " A Saturday 
 evening school !" " 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 ?" '• She is only twelve, sir." 
 " And how does she conduct her school ?" 
 '' 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 
 ofTering up the first prayer ! I remain- 
 764 
 
 ed concealed ; and witnessed the whole 
 duties of the school, conducted with all 
 the gravity of an aged matron. 
 
 (/) SOLDIER GIVING AWAY 
 HIS PENSION.— 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 ; I have 
 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 officers, 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 acknowledged 
 
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. 
 
 M. 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 ignorant 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. 
 
 {b) 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 Hill, 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 
 progress 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 the 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 in 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. 
 
 M, In Counteracting 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. 
 Flis 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 ?" 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. 
 
 {b) 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 
 
391, 392 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 age Sabbath schools, 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 1 shall do to put 
 down these infernal Sunday schools, I 
 donH know, i'm afraid of them !" 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. 
 
 M. In Preventing and Removing Crime 
 and Vice. 
 
 (a) SABBATH SCHOOLS AND 
 PRISONERS.— Jos. 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 !' " 
 
 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 : — 
 
 766 
 
 " I have lately made a pretty thor- 
 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. There- 
 suit is, 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 , of P , 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. lie was repaid, 
 and no more was thought of the afl^air. 
 
 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 followino; 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 affording reli- 
 gious instruction to the prisoners : — 
 
 One youth I gave up as a lippeless 
 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 
 
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC, 
 
 392, 39S 
 
 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, aner 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 over 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, T 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 
 singing of a light-hearted weaver. 
 When 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 
 stopped me. I looked at him. " Do 
 you not know me, sir ?" said he. " No, 
 indeed I do not." " Do you not recol- 
 lect your scholar at Newgate, James 
 
 ?" 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 T 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. 1 should have 
 been now, 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 mcie 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 now 
 employment enough at this cottage ; 
 and I pass away my time very hap- 
 
 {d)^ SABBATH SCHOOLS TOO 
 
 LrVTE. — "Sabbath schools would have 
 
 saved me from the gallows ; but they 
 
 I were fifteen years too late for me," 
 
 I muttered the abandoned Gibbs, a few 
 
 days before his execution. But the 
 
 history of this pirate is not the only one 
 
 j that furnishes occasion for such a de- 
 
 j claration. Hundreds before him, who 
 
 j have shed innocent blood, might as 
 
 justly have said, if we had been in- 
 
 I 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. 
 
 M, Conversions. 
 
 (a) FAITHFULNESS REWARD- 
 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 
 
393 
 
 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 hirti 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- 
 TIMONY.— 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- 
 ceived 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. 
 
 (c) 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 wretchedness 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 
 768 
 
 same seven children ; 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. James's Church, 
 Bristol, England, mentioned from the 
 pulpit, about 1818, that a boy, some 
 years before, behaved so ill in the St. 
 James'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, Avas 
 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 ?" " Yes," said the Rev. 
 Henry Poole, " I have, if I ever knew 
 you." " Do you remember a wicked 
 boy named James Saunders?" "Oh, 
 yes," said he, " I have cause to remem- 
 ber him ; he gave me much trouble and 
 anxiety. What do you know of him ?" 
 " I am the lad !" " You are grown so, 
 and so much altered, 1 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 sea-side. 
 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. 
 
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC. 
 
 393 
 
 For the first time since I left the school, 
 you, sir, darted into my mind. I thought 
 of your 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. 1 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 day 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 
 during 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; 1 therefore walked from my ship 
 to thank you, in the best manner I can, 
 for your former kindness to me."' 
 
 Knowincj 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 lie was able 
 out of the Bible, exhorted them to cleave 
 to the Block 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 lime 
 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 
 49 
 
 children, being in debt several hundred 
 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 tbeir 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 elder 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 ? 1 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 so 
 much?" The boy replied, "-No book 
 has stood my friend so much as the Bi- 
 769 
 
393 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 ble." " Why, what has the Bible done 
 for you ?" He answered, " When I 
 was a boy about seven years of age I 
 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, and I 
 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 ? 
 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. / have a class 
 of twenty children, all of whom are mem- 
 bers of the Sabbath school, who arc cher- 
 ishing the hope that they have jmssedfrom 
 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 relio;ion. 
 
 fe)^THE CLASS OF LARGE 
 SCHOLARS.— In 1833, the superin- 
 tendent of a school in Massacliusetts 
 770 
 
 made an attempt to gather into the 
 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 M^as 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, that 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's 
 name, I have seen, said the writer of the 
 
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC. 
 
 393 
 
 account, the tear start in his eye, and 
 his frame shake with convulsive emo- 
 tion. " 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 1 have caused her ! When 
 I think of my poor mother, 1 sometimes 
 feel that I could burst the walls of my 
 cell, that I tpight go and fall before her, 
 to ask her forgiveness." He was re- 
 leased from prison, and immediately 
 called 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. 
 
 (/) 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 Sunday 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 him 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- 
 nicnt, 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. 
 
 (j) 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 supplica- 
 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 perish- 
 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. 
 
 (k) A SAILOR'S TESTIMONY.— 
 The followiug 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 witness 
 771 
 
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- 
 tion at home, that I acquired that degree 
 of education which I now possess. I 
 was taught to fear God, obey my parents, 
 reverence 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 perhaps never 
 should have sunk to such depths of wick- 
 edness as I have done. But being sur- 
 rounded, while a sailor, with sinful com- 
 pany, 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 now 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 swipnming. 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 half-way 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 
 772 
 
 reached him, at the distance of nearly 
 half a mile from our ship, when our 
 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 1, 
 who was furthermost from tj|e 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 decoying 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 u[X)n 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 hauled up into 
 the ship. The shark then took the bait, 
 and we hoisted him in. He measured 
 about sixteen feet ; and his jaws, when 
 extended, would admit of a bulk nearly 
 as large as a barrel. It was now that 
 the serious impressions which I received 
 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. Holmes." 
 
RELIGIOUR INFLUENCE, ETC. 
 
 393, 394 
 
 (Z) THE WELSHMAN'S SAB- 
 BATH SCHOOL.—'' 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 school. 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 hack 
 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 
 others. This minister, this church, this 
 flock, all sprang from that Sunday 
 school ; and, when I look upon my aged 
 parishioner in tJie gallery, I cannot but 
 reflect what a crown he has for his 
 hoary head." 
 
 S94. 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 unto 
 life, making in all one hundred and 
 TWENTY-ONE who became hopefully 
 pious, in a school of 231 scholars. 
 
 {h) REPORT OF 1836.— The Re- 
 port for 1836, mentions one hundred and 
 seventy-three teachers, and one thousand 
 four hundred and forty-four scholars, 
 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 of 
 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 eves." 
 
 {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 manifest 
 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 
 I as animating, still and deep. One hun- 
 I dred or more members of the school, 
 ! we hope, have been converted. 
 I (e) WHAT A TEACHER CAN 
 i DO. — About the first of September, 
 773 
 
395 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 1833, a deep and solemn interest upon 
 the subject of religion, began to be 
 visible in the Presbyterian church and 
 congregation of Washingtonville, 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, affectionately 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. 
 
 Wi. Happy Deaths. 
 
 (a) THE CHILD'S LAST PRAY- 
 ER. — A pious little boy, who attended 
 the Sabbath school, a few hours before 
 his 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 ?" 
 " Why," said he, witli peculiar empha- 
 774 
 
 sis, "because I am so happy." Just 
 before his death, with uplifted hands, 
 he exclaimed, " Father ! Father ! take 
 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. 
 
 (h) " 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 until her 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 ?" S. A. E. arose, and with 
 her characteristic decision exclaimed, 
 " I have given myself to my Savior !" 
 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 profession, 
 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 trv 
 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 
 
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC. 
 
 395 
 
 she lay in the embrace of the kinor of 
 terrors. 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, I de- 
 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 will.'' 
 " You are happy in your Savior ?" 
 " 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?" "Yes, and I 
 know 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 
 chiefl}^ been spent in bidding farewell 
 to her numerous friends, and express- 
 ing to all the happiness vviiich 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 exclaiming, " 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. 
 
 (c) 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 
 
 of 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 granted 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 ? 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. 
 
 (d) 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 very 
 much, and continued to cry after she 
 got into bed ; but a little creature, two 
 775 
 
395, soe 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 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 !" 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. Not 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- 
 ply. I asked him, " Why do you ex- 
 pect to go to heaven ? All that die do 
 not go there, do they ? and why then do 
 you think you shall go to heaven ?" 
 He replied, "1 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 
 sin ; and I think I shall go to heaven, 
 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 1 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 heart to 
 776 
 
 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 
 PAKENTS, ETC. 
 
 %%. Moral Benefits. 
 
 (a) SABBATH SCHOLAR AND 
 THE PRISONERS.— At a Sunday 
 school anniversary, the Rev. Mr. Hoov- 
 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 v/as 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 teal's. 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. H.'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 — S(X)n afler you lef\ 
 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 
 
BENEFITS TO PARENTS, ETC. 
 
 396, 397 
 
 neglected word of life, and ceased not, 
 till 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- 
 TRESS. — 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 of the ensuing 
 week, one of the servants told her mis- 
 tress that Mary used to pray every night 
 before she v/ent 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. 
 Ho went up the next night, and heard 
 Mary's fervent prayer, at which he was 
 so (irreatly affected that he afterwards 
 told his' wife, with tears, that she must 
 not part with Mary. They ascertained 
 tliat 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 
 attend a place of worship, which they 
 
 afterwards did regularly, and became 
 subscribers to the Sunday school. 
 
 197. 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 straggling 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 
 I now 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 
 I grew up to be respectable members of 
 777 
 
397 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 society, and ome of them has been a 
 teacher in a Sabbath school for several 
 years. 
 
 (b) 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 ; 
 they were read. This had a tendency 
 to draw his father out to church, to hear 
 preaching, and lectures on the subject 
 of 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. 
 
 (c) 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 now 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 vicp, and aversion to 
 the worship of God, there seemed little 
 778 
 
 hope that any moral change could be 
 effected in him. But that which to man 
 seemed so doubtful, God was pleased to 
 accomplish in a way exceedingly 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 !" 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 to 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 father 
 took some nails and a hammer to nail 
 
BENEFITS TO PARENTS. ETC. 
 
 397 
 
 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 Hume'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 ?" 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 a^onizinij soul. He thouo;ht 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 tlie 
 old man was on his dying bed. His 
 son attended him, constantly ministering 
 to his spiritual wants. To a Christian 
 minister the father said, " I am dying, 
 but I am ffoinfj to heaven : and mv 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 ! to be the instrument of saving 
 his father from death. Happy parent ! 
 to be blessed with such a child. 
 
 (/) THE SAILOR AND HIS 
 DAUGHTER. — In conversation with a 
 respectable middle-aged seaman, at one 
 of the prayer-mfcetings 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, he related the following narra- 
 tive : — 
 
 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 Workington, in a 
 small cottage, the next to a neat chapel ; 
 but the people who go to this chapel be- 
 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. I usually sail out of Liver- 
 pool. During the winter the vessel is 
 laid up. At those times I 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 chapel. 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 Jiad 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 dai- 
 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 from me, and 
 wishing to pass it by in a trifling way, 
 she said, "Do you say grace, Nanny." 
 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 prayer I ever heard. 
 This was too much for me ; 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 
 
397 
 
 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- 
 self, and her dear father and mother. 
 
 Ah ! thought I, and I 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 the instrumentality of a dear 
 child, I am now seeking him with all 
 my heart, and truly can I say, I am 
 happy in the thought, that Jesus Christ 
 came into 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, atler 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 what 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." 
 780 
 
 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, 
 that 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 bed-room, 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 prayeth." 
 
 (/i) LEAVING ALL FOR CHRIST. 
 — A large family, who resided a i^ew 
 miles from the city of New-York, were 
 accustomed entirely to neglect both the 
 church and the Sabbath school ; in fact, 
 the father and mother \vere very much 
 
CONNECTION WITH THE MINISTRY AND MISSIONS. 
 
 398 
 
 opposed to religious instruction of any 
 kind. 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 vvay, 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. 
 
 S98. Connection of Sabbath Schools with 
 the 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 
 
 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 now 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. 
 
 (b) VARIOUS INSTANCES.— It 
 is said, that of the missionaries who 
 have gone from Great Britain to the 
 heathen, nineteen twentieths 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 ! ! 
 
 (c) 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-houso, 
 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 office 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 Woodbridsre. 
 781 
 
398 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 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 in im- 
 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 
 living. 
 
 (d) HANDS' TESTIMONY.— At 
 a public meeting, the Rev. W. 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 he 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 
 })rincipally 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- 
 
 782 
 
 day school teacher, he should never 
 have been a missionary. 
 
 if) KNILL'S TESTIMONY.— The 
 Rev. Richard Knill wrote from St. Pe- 
 te rsburgh, 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 had been Sunday school 
 teachers ; and out of twenty missiona- 
 ries, who were my colleagues at Gos- 
 port, three-fourths of them had been 
 engaged in the same way. 
 
 (g) PHILIP'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 Christ as a 
 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. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 398, 399 
 
 (h) FOURTEEN MINISTERS 
 FROM A CLASS.— Mr. Clark, af- 
 terwards schoolmaster at Sierra Leone, 
 taught a Sunday school at Edinburgh. 
 His 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 them 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. 
 
 {i) 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 Newcasile- 
 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? 
 
 {k) THE CLERGYMAN'S VIS- 
 IT. — I was, one Sabbath afternoon, says 
 a superintendent, about tp 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 lads, on being attacked, ran 
 
 away ; this lad followed them to the 
 very doors of the school, 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 ; 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 ragged, 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 officiate 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 !" He then conclud- 
 ! ed with a most affecting prayer. 
 
 i 
 
 W. Miscellaneous. 
 
 (a) CHIEF JUSTICE MAR- 
 SHALL AND JUDGE WASHING- 
 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 RESOLUTIONS.— 
 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 aflectionate 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 iiill 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, thai, I will pray once 
 each day for each member of my class 
 by name, and agonize in pirayer. 
 
 Looking on still farther in her jour- 
 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 agonize in prayer, and expect a bless- 
 ing. Did that teacher do too much and 
 pray too much ? Wliat answer would 
 her glorified spirit now give could she 
 speak to us ? 
 
 (d) 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 affliction, 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. 1 soon recognized among 
 the teachers one who had been a Sun- 
 day scholar ; I conversed with him and 
 found 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 ? 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? 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 
 
 (c) 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 — " Rather 
 set a Sunday school teacher to take care 
 of the boys." 
 
 (/) EXAMPLE OF SEVERAL 
 STATESMEN— A writer in the New- 
 York Journal of Commerce for 1844, 
 says ; " The present Chancellor of the 
 University of New- York city, (Mr. Pre- 
 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, 
 50 
 
 who will look into the Sunday school, 
 may there see the Hon. Chancellor of 
 the state of New-York (R. H. Walworth) 
 with other literary gentlemen, animating 
 the young in their Bible investigations. 
 
 Hon. Wm. Ellsworth, while gover- 
 nor of the state of Connecticut, instruct- 
 ed a Bible class from Sabbath to Sabbath, 
 in one of the Cong-rearational 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 
 wp." 
 
 (g) A GOOD RESOLUTION.— 
 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 ? 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 of this meeting, it is the duty of every 
 PERSON, not prevented by the providence 
 of God, to be connected imth a Sabbath 
 school. And that we will do all in our 
 power to effect this object. 
 
 {h) SCHOOLS IN WALES.— 
 A poor family, in Wales, had acquired, 
 by great industry, the 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 afterwards 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 regularly for a long time. 
 At length he was taken very ill, and re- 
 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- 
 
 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 delightful 
 study of many who, till within three 
 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. 
 
 400. SATAN, AGENCY OF. 
 
 {a) 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 ?" 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. 
 
 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 WROTH." 
 — " I asked the Rev. Legh Richmond," 
 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 ? 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, f 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. 
 
 (&) MARLBORO' AND HIS SER- 
 VANT.— The Duke of Marlborough 
 possessed great command of temper, 
 and never permitted it to be ruffled by 
 little things, in which even the greatest 
 men have been occasionally found un- 
 As he was one day riding 
 
 guarded. 
 
 with Commissary 
 
 Marriot, it began [ 
 
 to rain, and he called to his servant for 
 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 asked 
 him what 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, " Now I would not be 
 of that fellow's temper for all the 
 world." 
 
 (c) NEWTON 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 amons: some 
 papers, the nearly finished labor of ma- 
 ny years, which were soon in flames, 
 and almost consumed to ashes. This 
 loss, from Newton'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 !" 
 
 (d) THE LOGICIAN'S DIGRES- 
 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 hi? 
 confutation inevitable, (forgetting ^he 
 
 787 
 
401, 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 a digression ; 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 
 ear, 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 ?" 
 
 His wite, Xantippe, was a woman of 
 a most fantastical and furious spirit. 
 At one time, having vented all the re- 
 proaches 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.— An- 
 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- 
 ly, and exercising his authority in their 
 punishment, he barely drew aside the 
 curtain of his tent, and said, " Gentle- 
 men, just remove toagreater distance, for 
 your king hears you." 
 
 402. SELF-DECEPTION. 
 
 (a) THE CHURCH MEMBER'S 
 EXCUSE FOR DRUNKENNESS.— 
 
 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 
 788 
 
 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 spirit 
 than his legs would bear up under .'" 
 
SELF-DECEPTION. 
 
 403 
 
 {h) 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 officiated 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 ; 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 homo v/ith 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 
 10 explore its dark re(;csses ; and the 
 
 1 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 of divine 
 grace ; and continued afterwards to re- 
 joice in the God of his salvation. " Oh ! 
 1 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 .'" 
 
 (c) THE RUM-DRINKER'S CON- 
 VERSION.— During the revival at S., 
 says Rev. Mr. Nettleton, I witnessed an 
 instance which, if you please, 1 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 tor her 
 husband. This was the means of his 
 conviction ; though, at the time, ii was 
 not known. Report said he was con- 
 fined to his bed, and dangerously ill. 
 Hints were privately circulating that 
 he 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. " What is the matter ?" 
 said Brother G. " Oh, I am sick ! I 
 am in such distress !" " But your pulse 
 is regular. Where is your pain ?" i 
 He made no reply ; but with violence 
 smote upon his breast. He was asked, 
 "Js 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. 1 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, 
 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 ? It is not distress, but 
 love to God and a chanfre of heart 
 
 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 
 " What shall I do ?" 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 sot. 
 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 tJiought- 
 
 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. She could 
 not surrender all to God. There was 
 a small portion of her earthly treasures; 
 a little shining dust — used as ornaments 
 of her perishin^f body, which she was 
 790 
 
 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, Avhile 
 complaining to a sister (since gone to 
 rest) that she could find no peace, her 
 sister replied, " Perhaps there is some- 
 thmg 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 — all." 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 wi 
 immediately able to finish transcribing 
 I her chapter — light began to dawn upon^ 
 her soul — and her proud spirit was 
 humbled. Peace gradually dawned upoi 
 her mind, and as soon as an opportunity! 
 presented, she united with the church, 
 and now walks in newness of life. 
 
SELF-DENIAL. 
 
 403 
 
 {b) UNPURCHASED, 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. 
 
 (c) 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 mo. 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 ornamehts for her adorable Redeem- 
 er." 
 
 (d) SELF-DENIAL OF VA- 
 RIOUS MARTYRS.— Julius Palmer, 
 in Queen Mary's days, had life and pre- 
 
 ferment offered hitn, if he would recant 
 his faitlr 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. 
 
 William Hunter, when urged 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. 
 
 Antonius Riceto, a Venetian, was 
 offered his life, and considerable wealth, 
 if he would concede but a little ; 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 of 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 ig 
 about two miles from the centre of Edin- 
 boro', I was informed of an instance of 
 theological patriotism that would have 
 made the old " Cameronian cow-feeder," 
 were he alive, leap for joy. Observing 
 a dozen stone masons actively engaged 
 in putting up the wallsof 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 
 
403, 404 
 
 SERVANTS. 
 
 admirable. Rev. W. M. Harvard stales, 
 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. 6, 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 ?" He 
 looked round upon the congregation, as 
 for a reply. Presently a charm was 
 handed up to the pulpit, which had been 
 broken off for that purpose. He held it 
 up, and gave thanks to God, that in that 
 place he had begun to destroy these 
 works of the devil. He then repeated 
 
 the inquiry, " Who next ?" &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, " 1 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 it. " Sir," said she, " I am 
 a poor woman, and have only this single 
 dress." " Well, have you always been 
 so poor ?" " 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, "7/" you will 
 return to heathenism we shall restore you 
 everything.'" "Well, why did you not 
 follow their advice ? Now you are a 
 poor Christian." " O, Sir," she replied, 
 " I would rather be a poor Christian than 
 a rich heathen" 
 
 404. SERVANTS. 
 
 (a) 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, 1 had rather be instrumental in 
 converting them than their employers." 
 
 " Why so?" inquired the man. 
 
 " Because," observed the minister, 
 " they have the care of all the chil- 
 dren." 
 
 (b) DIDEROT'S SERVANT.— 
 The Abbe 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 liim 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 young man, he ventured one dav, 
 792 
 
 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. 
 
 (c) MEL ANCTHON'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 
 
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 : — 
 
 " Here, at a distance from hia native land, 
 Came honest John, 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 lifeless body's given, 
 But his immortal soul sees God in heaven.' 
 
 (d) A LIVING EPISTLE.— "One 
 day, in my travels," says Mr. Jay, " I 
 
 heard of a servant who had attended a 
 Wesley an 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 servant ; has she not a right to 
 worship God where she pleases as well 
 as ourselves?" 
 
 " 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 ; 
 1 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. 
 
 405. SIN. 
 
 (a) FIVE DIRECTIONS.— " 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 
 Jes'us 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 
 much upon, and apply this precious I 
 
 blood to our own souls ; so shall sorrow 
 and mourning fiee away." 
 
 (b) 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— 
 SINS OF OMISSION. — The last 
 words that Archbishop Usher was heard 
 to express, were, " Lord, forgive my 
 sins, especially my sins o^ omission." 
 
 (d)THE INFANT'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 Adam 
 and his descendants, only for eating an 
 apple ? 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 ; it was sir," said 
 the poor man, " that they broke the 
 order." 
 
 (/) NEWTON'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 Iloly Ghost. 
 
 a) THE INFIDEL'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 
 into the kingdom of the Reedemer. 
 794 
 
 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 j 
 and, at lengtli, 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 thue 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 feelingof 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 bo 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. For some time he re- 
 
SIN AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST. 
 
 406 
 
 fused 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 aojo-ravate the horror of his mind. 
 Often with a countenance distorted with 
 all the features of despair, he would 
 entreat those present 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 
 DELUSION.— 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- 
 
 'oyed the privilege of sitting under an 
 able and successful ministry. [lis 
 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 lontT after his feelings of 
 
 impatience became sensitive. His at- 
 tention was subsequently turned from 
 its own proper object to one more nearly 
 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 appeared 
 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 v/ith 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 ?" 
 
 " I opposed the work of God." 
 
 " So did Saul." 
 
 " I denied Jesus Christ." 
 795 
 
407 
 
 SLANDER. 
 
 " So did a disciple afterwards honor- 
 ed by his master." 
 
 " 1 doubted the power of Jesus Christ 
 after strong evidence in his favor." 
 
 « So did Thomas." 
 
 " What ? are you attempting to prove 
 by such examples that I am a Chris- 
 tian ?" 
 
 " Not at all : T 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 cut off from salva- 
 tion." 
 
 " It is difficult 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 ?" 
 
 " Assuredly, if it were possible." 
 
 *• Do you regret the conduct of which 
 you accuse yourself?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Do you sincerely desire repent- 
 ance ?" 
 
 " 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 of 
 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. 
 
 {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- 
 796 
 
 lief against the pains of calumny — a 
 good conscience. 
 
 (h) BOERHAAVE'S ADVICE.— 
 The celebrated Boerhaave, who had 
 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, will 
 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 
 
SLANDER. 
 
 407 
 
 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. VVaugh, 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 
 report concerning another member of 
 the congregation. Some friends being 
 with him, 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 ? It is cowardly to speak ill of a 
 man behind his back ; and I doubt if 
 any of us would have sufficient courage, 
 if our poor friend were to appear among 
 
 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." 
 lie resumed his seat, and the company 
 looked at each other, struck silent by this 
 rebuke from one so good 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 that 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 of love." 
 
 (/) 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) WHY BOERHAAVE BE- 
 CAME A PHYSICIAN.— The affecting 
 story oil Boerhaave, so distinguished in the 
 medical profession, 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 Leyden to obtain 
 his license to preach — when to his utter 
 astonishment he found the way complete- 
 ly hedged up. An insinuation 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 which he was charged ; the torrent 
 of popular prejudice was irresistible ; 
 and thus this pre-eminently 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 joozson 
 tlieir weapons, and weak as they are, 
 give mortal wounds, and bring a hero to 
 the grave. 
 
 {h) THE MONARCH'S QUES- 
 TION. — When 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 respecting 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 minister 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 
 a minister, he was not too good to lie, 
 &c. The Rev. Mr. S., in the first place, 
 708 
 
 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 inform- 
 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 if to 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 of his warm- 
 est friends. 
 
 {j ) 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 a sim- 
 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 I was 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- 
 
SOUL— SUBMISSION TO GOD'S WILL. 
 
 40S, 409 
 
 duced by it in families and neighbor- 
 hoods ; 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 ; 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 neiorhborhoods. 
 
 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 ; 
 you are a skillful calculator ; take your 
 
 pen now, and calculate the worth of one 
 hundred immortal souls !" 
 
 (b) DR. SCOTT'S REMARKS. 
 — Dr. Scott, in one of his lectures to 
 young clergymen, says : " I must own 
 that I 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 ; for the salva- 
 tion of one soul gives joy in heaven, but 
 we read not that angels notice philosophi- 
 cal discoveries." 
 
 409. SUBMISSION TO GOD'S WILL. 
 
 (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 ivill of 
 God : and where it is to he 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 ?" The first child replied, "They 
 do it immediately :" the second, " They 
 do it diligently :" the third, " They do 
 it 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 ; but, after some time, a lit- 
 tle girl arose, and said, " Why, sir, 
 they do it without asking any questions. ^^ 
 
 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 ! 
 
 {h) GOD'S DEMANDS AN- 
 SWERED.— " 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. 
 
 (c) THE INFIDEL AND HIS 
 WIFE. — 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 affliction ter- 
 minated in death. When the terrible 
 moment arrived in which the idol of his 
 affections must die, he stood at the head 
 799 
 
409 
 
 SUBMISSION TO GOD'S WILL. 
 
 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 confessed, 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 ?" 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 ?" " 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 
 He conferred not with 
 800 
 
 thing needful 
 
 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." 
 
 (d) 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 ?" 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?" 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 into 
 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 ?" " Never," said an eye- 
 witness, " shall 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. 
 
 (/) PICKING STRAWS FOR 
 LIFE. — Mr. Hey, an eminent surgeon, 
 early in the year 1778, received a stroke 
 upon his thigh, which threatened the 
 complete suspension of his professional 
 labors. The remedies applied under 
 liis own directions, and those of his me- 
 dical friends, proved altogether unser- 
 
SUBMISSION, WANT OF. 
 
 409, 410 
 
 viceable ; and it appeared in the highest 
 degree probable to himself and them, 
 that he would never regain the power 
 of walkino;. He was the father of a 
 large family, and was «oon to be the 
 parent 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 that f 
 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." 
 
 ig) FENELON AND HIS PUPIL. 
 — A most remarkable instance of Chris- 
 tian resignation was discovered on one 
 particular occasion, in the conduct of 
 Archbishop Fenelon. 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, I would 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, " Which God pleaseth." 
 51 
 
 " 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." 
 
 (i) 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." 
 
 0) ALL WITH 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 rdst concerning them. My de- 
 sire wa-*?, that they should have served 
 Chris-c 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." 
 
 {k) 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 ofT 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 a gentleman 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 
 
 601 
 
411 
 
 THEATRES. 
 
 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 wUs 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. 
 
 The worthy minister prayed that, if 
 it was the Lord's will, 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 !" 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 this lad, 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. 
 
 (a) 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. 
 
 (b) 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 in 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 
 of the gospel. 
 
 802 
 
 (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 
 OR 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 interruptionj now said, with his 
 usual mildness, that there was one 
 pleasure more, which she had forgotten. 
 " What can that be ?" 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 pleasure it will give you 
 on a death-bed." 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 
 
 (d) UNHEARD OF PRAYER. 
 
 — " He that is not satisfied," says Bishop 
 Wilson, " that plays are an unlawful 
 diversion, let him, if he dare, offer ujp 
 
THEATRES. 
 
 411 
 
 this prayer to God hefore 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 
 fj'om 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, 
 p-ave 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 certain 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 1 
 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 
 
 house 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 
 think 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- 
 ing 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 called 
 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 offices, for 
 employment, without success. In a few 
 days the dreadful news came that he 
 had been detected in pilfering goods 
 from the house of his landlord. A war- 
 rant was immediately issued for 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 v/ho were in the want of 
 the common necessaries of life. He has 
 frequently seen, among the theatre-going 
 public, men who called themselves ^en- 
 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. Names and dates 
 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) WORDS OF ARISTOTLE. 
 — The seeing of Comedies ought to be 
 forbidden to young people ; until age 
 803 
 
411 
 
 THEATRES. 
 
 and discipline have made them proof 
 against debauchery. 
 
 {h) WORDS OF TACITUS.— 
 The German women are guarded against 
 danger, and preserve their purity by 
 having no play-houses among them. 
 
 (0 OPINION OF OVID.— Ovid, 
 in a grave work addressed to Augustus, 
 advises the suppression of theatrical 
 amusements as a great source of corrup- 
 tion. 
 
 0) 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. 
 Though 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 some 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 lux- 
 ury and effeminacy raise itself upon the 
 ruins of our ancient simplicity ! 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 ? In all 
 countries the profession of a player is 
 dishonorable, and those who exercise it 
 are every where contemned." 
 
 (k) 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 ?" " 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 ? Do you think it sinful ?" 
 said she. He replied, " I never will 
 804 
 
 publish to the world that I think Jesus 
 Christ a hard master, and religion an 
 unsatisfying portion, which I should 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. 
 
 (I) 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 Falstaff 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 after 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 
 entertainments, 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 
 OF 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, thecondemnatoiy sentence of seventy. 
 one ancient Fathers, and one hundred 
 and fifty modern popish and Protestant 
 authors ; the hostile endeavors of philos- 
 ophers and even poets ; with the legisla- 
 tive enactments of a great number of 
 
TOBACCO. 
 
 411,412 
 
 pagan and 
 
 magistrates, emperors and princes, 
 
 (o) ADVOCATE OF THEA- 
 TRES. — There was a poor gentleman 
 in Paris, who used to go powdered and 
 decorated with ruffles 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 ruffled 
 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, &c. &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 till the play-house was clear- 
 ed, and then went round in the ladies' 
 boxes, and picked up pins enough to buy 
 Jus food till the next play .'" 
 
 (rt GOOD TEST FOR AMUSE- 
 MENTS. — Two professors of religion 
 were standing at the door of a theatre in 
 the city of New- 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 : 
 " If I 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 
 FRENCH REVOLUTION.— 
 During the progress of the most ferocious 
 revolution which ever shocked the face 
 of heaven, theatres, in Paris alone, mul- 
 tiplied from six 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 
 years. I had often doubted the ^itllity 
 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 
 the Christian, while in health, to be un- 
 
 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- 
 mination that I would suspend the use 
 805 
 
413 
 
 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 1 perceived its in- 
 fluence, I was determined to break up 
 this bad habit ; and then resolved fully 
 to renounce the use of tobaoco, 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 T 
 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." 
 
 (b) GOOD RULE FOR THE 
 LORD'S STEWARDS.— 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 hankerin^c so well known to 
 habitual smokers. The determination 
 arose to lay cut 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 L 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 [ 
 806 
 
 cigars since that time. The cure which 
 I propose is, to ask the lies sing of God 
 on all expenditures, and to try to he faith- 
 ful, stewards of the Lord''s vianey." 
 
 (c) THE MINISTER'S REPENT- 
 ANCE. — A country minister being in- 
 vited to preach the weekly lecture to a 
 congregation in the City of New- 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 the 
 very excuse the impenitent give for not 
 repenting and foi"saking their sins." 
 
 " Well, I'll think it over as I go 
 home," observed the minister, '• and 
 perhaps I 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 — do 
 you ?" 
 
 " 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 ?" 
 
 " With the help of God," said the 
 rninister, " I will leave off the practice 
 from this moment." 
 
 A rfiember 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 abjure 
 the filthy habit without delay. 
 
 (d) PRAYING OVER TOBACCO. 
 — A pious sea captain had been in the 
 
TOBACCO. 
 
 41J 
 
 habit 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 : — 
 
 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 (he was 
 
 a ship mate at the time), and convers- 
 ing with a brother shipmate, he found 
 tobacco ill his mouth 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 
 this narration, a period of more than 
 two years. 
 
 (e) THE CULPRIT'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 ! 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 gel 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 Jby the few hours 
 he had to live, calmly remarked, " This 
 will last me." 
 
 if) 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, 1 was grieved 
 that I had it not in my power to give 
 what I wished. I thought and thought, 
 and consulted my wife whether there 
 was any thing which we could spare 
 without 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 V 1 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. 
 When my children found what I was 
 doing, they wished to contribute also ; 
 and, if ever they got a penny or a half- 
 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 1 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. 
 I felt in my pocket for some tobacco, 
 but could find none. I examined every 
 part 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 I would have given fifty 
 dollars 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. Eventually I was awakened, and 
 felt that such practices were sinful. I 
 then thought I would try to leave them 
 808 
 
 off*. When I quit smoking, I felt com- 
 paratively that I had lost all my friends. 
 I could not eat or sleep as usual ; 1 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- 
 ter I had determined to try to quit chew- 
 ing, I always kept a piece of tobacco in 
 my pocket. I was doubtful whether I 
 should be able to leave it off. Many 
 times, before I was aware of 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, 1 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 oft' 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 I enjoy perfect health, and can 
 endure double the fatigue that I could 
 for a long time before I quit the use of 
 tobacco." 
 
 (A) 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 the town 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 
 
TOLERATION. 
 
 412, 413 
 
 was better to whip and break him from 
 swearing ; for, if he did not quit it, God 
 would cast him into hell, there to burn 
 forever. And in the vehemence of his 
 desire to awaken conviction, offered up 
 a short prayer to God, to change his 
 wicked heart ; and then inquired : 
 
 " Why do you swear, my son ?" 
 
 The child sobbed out, " Father, be- 
 cause I have such a wicked heart." 
 
 Father — Well, 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 1 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 
 one duty he had never complied with ; 
 and, by sd doing, he would please his 
 father and his God ; 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 tobacco !" 
 
 I will not attempt to describe the 
 father's feelings ; I will leave that to 
 the reader. But what did the father do ? 
 what could he do ? 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 ?" 
 
 The child looked disappointed, and 
 sobbed out, " Well." 
 
 The father then took him in his arms, 
 and retired into the garden to pray, a 
 great deal worse whipped than the 
 cliild. 
 
 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 forever 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 of 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." 
 
 (c) HENRY VIII AND HIS 
 BUFFOON.— Henry VIII kingof Eng- 
 land, wrote a silly book against Martin 
 Luther, for which the Pope conferred 
 on him the title " Defender of the Faiih.'^ 
 As that tyrant appeared to be overjoyed 
 at the acquisition, the Jester of the court 
 asked the reason ; and being told that it 
 was because the Pope had given him 
 809 
 
«14 
 
 TRACTS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 that new title, the shrewd fool replied — 
 " My good Harry, let thee and me de- 
 fend each other, and let iiie faith alone to 
 defend itself!'' 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. 
 
 HAPPY 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 : 
 I did, 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, T just then put my hand in my 
 jacket pocket, and feeling a paper, took 
 it out, and it proved to be a tract, " The 
 Swearer's Prayer." t read it aloud, 
 in the hearing of the whole crew, and, 
 I suppose, much of my feelings was 
 810 
 
 mixed with my tone of voice. When I 
 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 ?" 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 flicp, 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 manner, begged he 
 would not swear at therri ; they would 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 41i 
 
 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. 
 
 (6) THE TORN TRACT. — In 
 the summer of 1825 (says a gentle- 
 man) I left the tract entitled " The 
 Swearers Prmjer^''^ 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- 
 lect 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." 1 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. 1 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 importunity, 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- 
 pei'iment. 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 that I 
 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. ^- 
 
 (c) BREAD CAST ON THE 
 WATERS.— 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 lie 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 whicli, he trusts, the Lord 
 Jesus Christ took possession of his soul. 
 H^> 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 hopefally expe- 
 rienced 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 loas 
 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 
 New-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 saw it was called, ' The Watch- 
 maker.' I read it ; I shed tears. 1 
 read it for five days, and became so 
 deeply distressed for my sins, that I was 
 determined to drink no more. I told 
 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- 
 ing, 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 affirmative, he gave him a tract on 
 drunkenness. The man went to a wo- 
 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- 
 
 8ia 
 
 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 clergyman 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 was tre- 
 bled. 
 
 (/) THE HUNTER AND THE 
 TRACT. — Mr. H. was one day passing 
 through a small piece of wood, near 
 York, UpperCanada, 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 moniing, 
 given a little book ; and then added, "That 
 tract brought me to the prayer meeting 
 this morning: I feel thankful to you for 
 it. My mind has been troubled. I have 
 read the Bible. Since you have been 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 414 
 
 90 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 me I 
 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. I have 
 not spent my money in the usual way, 
 nor abused my family, since I received 
 it." "Sbarch 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 ? A tract that cost one- fourth 
 of a cent. 
 
 (h) 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, " 1 should be willing 
 to go, but it would aiFect 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 '?" " 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, master, I think I can read that 
 myself." He took it, and read about a 
 page and a half; it was the tract "On 
 THE Lord's Prayer;" and then he 
 said, " I tell you what, master, this 
 won't do. God bless you, sir, that ever 
 you should 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 sufficient 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 society of her friends. 
 813 
 
414 
 
 TRACTS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 (i) SHOEMAKER AND COL- 
 PORTEUll. — As I was passing from 
 house to house, on the second week in 
 January, (says one) hiviting 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 
 1, 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. His 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 fhe 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- 
 pany." 
 
 When I manifested an interest in 
 his moral and spiritual welfare, he 
 grasped me, as if I had been a deliverer 
 sent from heaven. He felt that the re- 
 sistless temptation lay in his companions, 
 and that he must get a new train of so- 
 cial 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 
 814 
 
 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 wife ; 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 together — place your 
 feet on the Rock of Ages, and devote 
 yourselves to the service of Christ ; 
 train up your children for him ; be a 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 414 
 
 family for God, and nothing will turn 
 you aside." To my surprise I soon 
 found that her heart had syrripathized 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 th^ gos- 
 pel and of the cross, that I must b*ieve 
 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, 1 trust, 
 these and all redeemed spirits before the 
 throne. 
 
 (k) THE STRIKING PICTURE. 
 
 ■In a large manufacturing town in the 
 West Riding of Yorkshire, some pious 
 persons were in the habit of leaving 
 tracts at the different 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 for a 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 ! 
 the first object that caught his attention 
 was the frontispiece 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 
 anger had somewhat exhausted itself in 
 oaths 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 liis 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 ev- 
 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 
 neighbors, most faithful of servants, best 
 of fathers, and most sober of men. 
 
 The lessons to be gathered from this 
 interesting incident are sufficiently ob- 
 vious. 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 ; 
 even 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 in 
 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. 
 
 41§. 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 profligacy, 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 
 purpose, but he could not forget what 
 he had just read ; ii brought him event- 
 ually to sit at the feet of our Savior, " in 
 his right mind." 
 
 (b) THE TRACT AND THE 
 HALTER.— Tl\e following interesting 
 fact was communicated to the Board of 
 the American Tract Society : 
 
 A gentleman of respectable family 
 and genteel appearance, while traveling j 
 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 
 frcim his hat the handkerchief with which 
 he intended to execute his dreadful pur- 
 pose ; 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." 
 
 (c) SUICIDE PREVENTED.— 
 The Rev. Basil Wood once related in a 
 sermon, that a person belonging to his 
 congregation, who had for some time been 
 confin|d 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 assented, 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, exclaim- 
 ing, " There, with that weapon I was : 
 just going to take away my own life, but 
 thought I would first look in to see yoi 
 once more before I committed the hor- 
 rid deed. What I have now been read<»J 
 ing has saved me." 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 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- 
 lie 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. When 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 ' Jugernatha Ruth na 
 chullebar a kottha,' or ' The account 
 of the not proceeding of Juggernaut'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 houss of the 
 missionary at Cuttack, whom he woke 
 from his bed very early in the mor- 
 ning of January 1, 1828, begging an 
 explanation 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. Ho 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 
 Christian evangelist." 
 
 (b) RENOUNCING MOHAM- 
 MEDANISM.— " On a late visit to 
 Soerabaya, Java," says Mr. Medhurst, 
 in 1841, " I 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- 
 
 52 
 
 an customs, and to adopt the profession 
 of Christianity. 
 
 On inquiry, it appeared that one of 
 them formerly obtained a tract, at the 
 annual fair held at Soerabaya, from 
 which, he learned, that he was a sinner, 
 and in danger of perdition, while the on- 
 ly Savior to whom he could look for help, 
 was Jesus Christ, the Son of God. 
 He communicated his views to some 
 of his fellaw-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) WHAT TWO CENTS CAN 
 DO.— The Rev. Dr. Scudder, 1842, 
 says, " A young man belonging to 
 Panditeripo received from Rev. Mr. 
 Poor, the tract, ' Heavenly Way J On 
 reading it, he came to converse with 
 me on the subject of the Christian re- 
 ligion ; placed himself 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. 
 817 
 
416 
 
 TRACTS, RELIGIQUS. 
 
 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 I held 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 ^\>A 
 publicly professed his faith in the Lora 
 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 
 had 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 T 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. 
 
 {d) 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, 
 818 
 
 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. When he 
 arrived there, the missionary did not 
 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 ?" He said, " Ask me 
 some questions, and I will tell you 
 what I know." The missionary asked 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 417 
 
 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 Jesus. 
 He replied, " Did you not, when you 
 passed by my village, 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 oft' 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. 
 
 (a) 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 
 Method with Deists. '^ It was the means, 
 under God, of his hopeful conversion ; 
 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. 
 
 (b) DESTROYING OxNE'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 
 U 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 INFIDEL'S PRINCI- 
 PLES SHAKEN— I was requested, 
 writes a Christian minister at Godalming, 
 in Surrey, (England,) to visit a poor 
 man who was ill. Upon inquiring as 
 to his previous character, I found that 
 he had been the leader of 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 J^hn 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. When 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 afflicted, a 
 person brought me a small packet, but 
 v/as 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, " What 
 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 ?" T said, " I 
 regard you now as a dying man, and I 
 ask upon what are you placing your 
 hope of mercy ?" He replied, " Only 
 upon Christ." I said, " What ! upon 
 Him whom you have openly blasphem- 
 ed ?" " Yes ; wretch that I have been !" 
 819 
 
41§, 419 
 
 TRACTS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 Shortly after he died, and, I trust, en- 
 tered into peace. 
 
 418. Converts Distinguished for Usefulness. 
 
 (a) 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 J^ 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 thfe 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 dying love of Jesus. 
 
 (5) THE PHYSICIAN'S EARLY 
 IMPRESSIONS.— 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 ?" 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 toll, 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 
 830 
 
 I was a boy," said the physician, " you 
 gave me a tract, 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 : 
 I saw that I was ruined by sin ; that 
 an eternity of woe was before me ; and 
 I found 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 din- 
 ger ; he caught hold of a bough, and 
 with some difficulty 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 
 
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS. 
 
 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 ?" " 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 
 which 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." 
 
 (b) THE CAPTAIN'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, (Fleaven 
 Lost, by Baxter,) having on the title- 
 page a cut, with the words, " [f 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 atoning 
 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." 
 
 (c) THE SOCINIAN AND THE_ 
 TRACT. — x\t one of the anniversaries '] 
 in Paris, a clergyman rose, and related i 
 the case_ of_a Socinian minister, who i 
 had read many books of controversy I 
 respecting the Divinity of Christ, and i 
 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 J estiC "There was not one word of 
 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 
 
 ministers in i 
 
 one of the most devoted 
 France. 
 
 (d) HOUSE-BREAKER AND 
 THE TRACT.— Hon. Mr. Wilson, 
 agent in Vermont, writes that a respec- 
 table clergyman, while residing at the 
 West, became acquainted with a very 
 devoted minister who was converted 
 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 
 home. 
 
 When he discovered the tract, he 
 wondered how it should have come 
 821 
 
420 
 
 TRACTS, RELIGIOUS. 
 
 there- He read it again 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- 
 cessful preacher' of the gospel. 
 
 420. Revivals and Numerous Conversions. 
 
 (a) THE NORWEGIAN 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-doUars 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 behave 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 
 
 {b) THE CADET AND GREGO- 
 RY'S LETTERS.— Bishop M'llvaine, 
 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. I was 
 forewarned of the rugged soil which I 
 822 
 
 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 officer 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. 1 have reason to believe that the 
 I 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 die'd, 
 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 hov/ it came 
 there. I explained to him how that 
 tract had been given away by me; 
 
TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS. 
 
 420, 421 
 
 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 officer 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 vvas 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- 
 ship ; 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 many 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 iu 
 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 
 neifrhborins countries. 
 
 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS. 
 
 421. Injurious to Customers, their Friends, 
 and the Community. 
 
 (a) THE TWO RED CENTS.— 
 
 A grocer in Clinton County, New- York, 
 sold a drunkard a pint of new rum ac- 
 cording to law, and made two red cents 
 clear projit. 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 ? 
 
 {h) THE TWO RED CENTS 
 AGAIN.— About, the 1st of July, 1843, 
 an Indian, one of those half-civilized, 
 rum-loving creatures who abound in 
 the West, stepped out of Cataraugus 
 County into the State of Pennsylvania, 
 where, it seems, men are sold indul- 
 gences to sin, as well as in the Empire 
 State ; and then filled his pocket- bottle 
 with real "red-eye," and the seller of 
 the poison made two red cents clear 
 profit. While 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 husband 
 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 all dead! 
 Oh ! what desolation was there ! 
 
 (c) " WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT 
 I SHOULD BE USED SO ?"— 
 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 ajnd children. 
 
 My son caught the spirit and follow- 
 ed the example of his father ; was en- 
 823 
 
422, 423 
 
 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS. 
 
 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 I what have I done that 
 I should be used so ?" 
 
 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 ! 
 
 422. Injurious to Traffickers 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 fatherless! 
 The amount found due the estate rather 
 exceeded the capital he had three years 
 before 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. 
 
 425. 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 
 trade ; I want to get richer." " Well, 
 824 
 
 but do you not think you will be afford- 
 ing additional facilities to drunkards to 
 destroy themselves ?" " Perhaps I 
 shall." "Do you not believe that at 
 least five men every year will die drunk- 
 ards, if you succeed in getting a li- 
 cense ?" " Why, I never thought of 
 that before ; but 1 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 ? Does he 
 go to heaven ?" " I suppose not." '^l 
 am sure he does not, for no drunkard 
 shall inherit the kingdom of heaven ; 
 what becomes of him then ?" " Why^ 
 he must go to hell." " Well, 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 ?" — The man threw down his pe- 
 tition, went back to his honest occupa- 
 tion, and was never tempted to desire a 
 license again. 
 
 {l) A RUMSELLER NO GOOD 
 CITIZEN.— The Rev. John Chambers, 
 of Philadelphia, in a speech before the 
 American tFnion, 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 !' said the judge, ' and make drunk- 
 ards V * But,' said the lawyer, ' he i» 
 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 settled, sir, and the man 
 must abide by the law.' The name of 
 that judge was Parsons, and may God 
 send us more such parsons as these !" 
 
 (c) 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, and 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 
 
IMMORAL IN ITS CHARACTER. 
 
 433 
 
 from 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 ? 
 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, — excess alone ought to be avoided ; 
 and they never acknowledged excess. 
 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 1 saw 
 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 excess ought to be 
 avoided. My poor husband and my 
 
 dear boys fell into the snare, and they 
 could not escape, (there were no Wash- 
 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 ! — 
 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 exclaimed — " 1 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. No ! 
 
 (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 any more. I ap- 
 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 alsof 
 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 TRAP- 
 PICKERS REPORMED.— 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. When 1 returned, I 
 said to myself, what if I had sold this 
 man the rum ? No, but 1 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, I will sell off 
 what I have very cheap, and then I will 
 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 ; I almost ran, I jumped 
 over the heads of the people ; 1 said, 
 put my name down. Somebody said, 
 
 Mr. , what will you do with your 
 
 liquor ? 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, 
 " What has made this man a drunkard, 
 and brought his family to poverty and 
 wretchedness ?" Conscience answered, 
 " Your whisky." " And who must 
 826 
 
 answer in the day of judgment ?" said 
 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 up, 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 ever 
 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 offered 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 
 
UNIVERSALISxM. 
 
 424 
 
 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. 
 
 UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 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 ail 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. 
 
 (b) 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 deeply 
 anxious that such a society should be 
 formed amongst them, but knew not 
 how to effect 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 tiie 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. 1 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 soon 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 be trampled under 
 foot, and their penalties, if not backed 
 by Divine threaten ings, would be but a 
 subject of mockery. With these views, 
 he must be excused from making any 
 efibrts to establish a Universalist society 
 in that place or any other. 
 
 (c) 1 BELIEVE 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, not to say 
 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 
 
424 
 
 UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 expect one of our ministers here before 
 long, and 1 intend to bring hinn 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't get to the windward of him." 
 They, however, 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?" 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 :- 
 
 am t you 
 
 No, no," said the 
 
 Universalist minister, " I don't preach 
 any such thing." " Well," said Father 
 Haynes, '• you believe so, don't you ?" 
 
 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 ?" and 
 both withdrew, apparently satisfied to 
 dispense with all further intercourse. 
 
 (d) LEWIS C. TODD'S TESTI- 
 MONY.— 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, 
 says: 
 
 828 
 
 " I became a preacher of universal 
 
 salvation, and was ordained as such in 
 Fairfield, Herkimer county, New-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 difFerenl 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, I was much inclined to doubt 
 Divine revelation. I could not go 
 entirely into infidelity, nor feel much 
 confidence in revelation. 
 
 " 1 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 V 
 Are all my efforts useless, and only 
 tending to make looser the restraints 
 of religion and virtue ? 
 
 " 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 
 
MORAL TENDENCY OF UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 434 
 
 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 
 Universal ist doctrine, I shall think bet- 
 ter of its influence than I do now ; 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. — Millennial Harbinger, Vol. 
 II., 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 wipked 
 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 
 tlien do you not preach so and tell us 
 of it ?" said he. " It will not do," they 
 replied, " it will make the people crazy." 
 Amid the conversation he stepped into 
 the hall ; and, as he believes, with entire 
 self-possession, aimed the two pistols at 
 his head, and snapped them ; 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 ! This was the sub- 
 stance pf 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 ? 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 Ju- 
 das Iscariot. 
 
 (g) THE SWEARER ENCOUR- 
 AGED. — Some time since, (says the 
 N. Y. Evangelist of 1832,) in the town 
 
 of , in New- York, a number of 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 to heaven if I swear 
 as soon as those that don't swear. ^^ 
 
 (h) AFFINITY OF UNIVERSAL. 
 ISM FOR INFIDELITY.— Universal- 
 ism and modern infidelity are twin sisters, 
 They mutually support each other. 
 We ventured the remark, says the Edi- 
 tor of the New-York Evangelist, a short 
 time since, before a large company of 
 infidels, that they had a strong affinity 
 for the Universal ists — 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 
 830 
 
 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 ? You have no hell 
 to put us in ?" 
 
 (z) 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 drunken jit, in the street ! His 
 death corresponded with his life. 
 
 (j) 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 
 firm'est 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 don't you 
 
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 m 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- 
 ing 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 respecting the 
 future destiny of different classes of evil- 
 doers. " Do you sincerely believe that 
 the drunkard will be saved ? Will the 
 robber ? Will the murderer ? Will 
 THE Suicide ?" 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. 
 
 425. Absurdity and Folly of Universalisin. 
 
 (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 
 universalists, (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 be 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 ? Do you believe in a 
 future state V They replied, " We 
 do." " You believe that death will in- 
 troduce all men to a state of perfect 
 happiness ?" " Of this we have no 
 doubt." " Are you now happy ?" 
 " 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 ?" " They endeavor to 
 I attain that happiness." "Do you be- 
 lieve that I understand the nature and 
 operation of medicine ?" " We have 
 no doubt, doctor, of your skill in your 
 profession ; but what has that to do with 
 the subject ?" " 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. Will you accept one of them ?" 
 " No, sir." " Will you .?" " No, sir." 
 When they had all refused, the doctor 
 said, " You must excuse me, gentle- 
 men, from embracing your doctrine, 
 until I have better evidence tliat you 
 believe it yourselves." This closed the 
 debate. 
 
 (h) NOT NEEDED OR J^OT 
 WANTED.— Mr. W., 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 
 
425 
 
 UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 need you ; and if it is false, we do not 
 want you." 
 
 (c) A UNIVERSALIST BIBLE.— 
 There once lived in England a man 
 who professed to believe in the final sal- 
 vation of all men. To sustain this doc- 
 trine, whenever he came to a passage 
 in the Bible which seemed favorable to 
 his creed he turned down a leaf. In 
 this way he converted his Bible into a 
 kind of Universalist Text Book for the 
 indoctrination of his family. He had a 
 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 peace 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 
 
 832 
 
 I and Dr. H. were personally strangers ; 
 
 ! but knowing something of each other 
 
 by reputation, they readily introduced 
 
 themselves. The General very soon 
 
 lifted up his standard, and began his 
 
 war of words — not doubting that, though 
 
 he might fail to convince his opponent, 
 
 he should at least show him that he was 
 
 no ordinary combatant : but knew well 
 
 , on what ground he stood and how to 
 
 i wield the sword of sectarian warfare to 
 
 I good advantage. The Doctor heard 
 
 I him through : then calmly turned to 
 
 him, and said — " General P it is of 
 
 no use for us to contend. We shall 
 
 probably not convince each other, by 
 
 i 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 
 
 i as I please, I can turn from it, as an 
 
 I utter abomination ; I can despise it ; 
 
 I I can spit on it, and trample it under 
 
 j my feet — and yet after all I shall be 
 
 I SAVED— sha'nH I, Gen. P .?" The 
 
 I General, of course, was obliged to as- 
 i 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, you 
 ARE A LOST MAN !" This was enough — 
 nothing more was said. 
 
 (e) THE INFIDEL'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 Universalists 
 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 yrow the 
 Bible ! You stretch out one passage 
 interminably, and cut 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 
 
DEATH OF UNIVERSALISTS. 
 
 425, 426 
 
 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 
 CONSCIENCE.— It happened in a town 
 with which 1 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. No, 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 of the being and personality 
 of' the devil. 1 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. [ 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 ? 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 ? 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 ? 
 
 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 
 53 
 
 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 hold 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 ! 
 
 (h) "GO WHERE YOU HAVE 
 A MIND TO."— About the year 1823, 
 a celebrated Universalist preached in 
 the court-house at New-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, " Where 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. 
 
 4S6. Death of Universalists. 
 
 (a) A DELUSION EXPLODED. 
 — Some time in the month of November, 
 1828, Capt. O. T., of N., when lying 
 833 
 
426 
 
 UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 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. VV., 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 
 followed Wood and Bailou, 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 ? 
 
 {!)) RECANTATION AND DE- 
 SPAIR.— David W. 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 afflicted parents, residing in 
 Windham, 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 fjither, 
 " 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 1 am dead, write to brother E., in 
 M., 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." 
 
 834 
 
 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 
 iiis own damnation. " Oh !" said he, " it 
 can alone be for the glory of God and the 
 good of others, for me to be damned ! 
 1 must be damned ! I am damned ! — 
 damned to all eternity ! ! I cannot live 
 in peace — 1 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 
 
DEATH OF UNIVERSALISTS. 
 
 426 
 
 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 ihe 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 I want to see him I 
 will send for him." 
 
 The next and last time Mr. S. called, 
 which was two weeks afterwards, he 
 came 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 ?" 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 sufficient Savior. 
 " Ah !" said he, as at first, " it is too 
 late." He knelt by his bed-side, and 
 tried 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 wliich 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 tiie prayer meeting, I went 
 into my barn, fell down upon my knees, 
 and prayed sincerely if she was right 
 835 
 
4av 
 
 UNITARIANISM. 
 
 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, 
 
 and read it as I never read it before. 
 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 dr eadful 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 before the 
 decease of that distinguished Unitarian. 
 The conversation was a f^ree 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 j and 
 
 l/ if M)e 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- 
 ( vimty and Atonement of the Son of 
 1 God, and those who entirely reject both, 
 \^ there is a great gulf fixed," which 
 precliides all ecclesiastical intercourse. 
 {I) AFFINITY OF UNITARIAN- 
 ISM FOR INFIDELITY— DR. JEW- 
 ETT'S TESTIMONY.— Dr. Thomas 
 Jewett, of Rindge, N. H., 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 
 836 
 
 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, H 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 doer of evil, I 
 readily adopted, and warmly advocated 
 for several years. 
 
 " At thirty years of age 1 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 
 
USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 4L27, 428 
 
 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.'' 
 (c) A DEIST'S OPINION OF 
 UNIVERSALISTS AND SOCINI- 
 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 
 Jesus of Nazareth and his ministers, or 
 " ilie 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. To which he replied, 
 " Sir, we consider Universalists and 
 SoclhTahTm'^fhe same light in regard to 
 our doctriiie,"that your people do John 
 the Baptist v/ith regard to yours — they 
 
 ARE MERELY FORERUNNERS ! !" 
 
 {d) 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 
 
 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 concern, 
 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 
 by THE carpenter's son !" 
 
 428. USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 (a) 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 instrumentality, 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 
 
42S 
 
 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. 
 
 [b) " I HAVE HANDS, AND I 
 CAN WORK."— A man in W., who 
 depended for support entirely on his 
 own exertions, subscribed five dollars 
 annually in support of the Bombay 
 schools. His friends inquired, " Why 
 he gave so much, and how he could 
 afford it?" He replied, "1 have for 
 sometime been wishinij to dosomethin<^ 
 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- 
 pie, but I have hands, and I can work." 
 
 (c) 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 manner in 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 ?" " Six years," 
 answered the doctors. " And if I con- 
 tinue in office ?" " 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 
 838 
 
 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 no impression. She then nea- 
 soned with him, but without effect. At 
 length she asked him the question, 
 "Have you a Bible, sir?" "Yes." 
 " What would induce you to part with 
 it ?" "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 wiiii 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 ?" 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 
 
USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 42§ 
 
 begged to be informed, that she might I 
 solicit elsewhere. " Have patience for \ 
 a few minutes," he replied, and pro- i 
 ceeded until he had counted 73 guineas. | 
 "There, madam," said hfe, ''there is ; 
 one guinea for every year I have lived ; | 
 take that for the Bible Society." 
 
 (/) THE INEBRIATE'S WIFE, i 
 — In a publication of the Massachusetts ; 
 Sabbath School Society, which abounds i 
 with excellent sentiments, entitled " A | 
 Practical Directory for Young Christian j 
 Females," is the following narrative: ; 
 
 The amazing influence of one Chris- j 
 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 ivhoie truth. She 
 had been for a long time afflicted with 
 a drunken husband. At length the 
 sheriff came, and swept off all her pro- j 
 perty, not excepting her household fur- j 
 niture, to discharge his grog bills. At 
 this distressing crisis, she retired to an I 
 upper room, laid her babe upon the j 
 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 icater, all the days of 
 my life." The Lord took her at her j 
 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- 1 
 come a charge to others. Although in 
 feeble health, and afflicted with the \ 
 sick headache, she opened a small I 
 school, from which she obtained a bare \ 
 subsistence ; though it was often no 
 more than v/hat was contained in the j 
 condition of her prayer — literally bread j 
 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 
 of character and a spirit of perse- 
 verance, which the power of faith alone 
 can impart. When she undertook any 
 Christian enterprise, she was discour- 
 
 aged by no obstacles, and appalled by 
 no difficulties. She resided in the most 
 wicked and abandoned part of the city, 
 which afforded 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, and succeeded. This was 
 accomplished by the mild influence of 
 persuasion, flowing from the lips of 
 kindness, and clothed 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 dwellings 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 in 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 them 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 pastor 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 
 
^ 
 
 42§ 
 
 USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN. 
 
 preparing for the ministry. These she j 
 had looked after, 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. 
 
 (g) 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 
 scholars 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, atfectionately, 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. I 
 
 The master attended, to see if every \ 
 thing was properly conducted, and was 
 840 
 
 astonished undoubtedly, (for he was an 
 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- 
 FORTS.— 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, ta 
 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 now numbers one hun- 
 dred 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 up, and the whole face of things inv 
 
w 
 
 VANITY OF THE WORLD. 
 
 429 
 
 that community is changed almost be- 
 yond the power of language to describe. 
 1 heard this but a few weeks since, with 
 some other striking facts connected with 
 it, and could hardly credit it, but I went 
 out a week since to preach in that little 
 church, and conversed with the lady 
 myself (a very modest, intelligent, and 
 
 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 WORDS OF SEVE- 
 RUS. — When Severus, Emperor of 
 Rome, found his end approaching, he 
 cried out, " I have been every thing, 
 and every thing is nothing ;" then or- 
 dering the urn to be brouglit 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." 
 
 {b) 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 of the 23d of January, 1806, 
 an individual having called at the inn, 
 and not being able to obtain a satisfac- 
 tory reply to his inquiries, proceeded to 
 the hquse 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. 
 
 (c) CONSTANTINE AND THE 
 MISER. — 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 j^ou will have." 
 
 {d) INSTABILITY OF GREAT- 
 NESS. — 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 off his head in the afternoon. Rof- 
 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 !" 
 
 (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, "1 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 who, 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, could 
 only, as it is reported, say, that he 
 knew it was true once. A circum- 
 stance in some degree similar is related 
 of that celebrated military commander^ 
 841 
 
429 
 
 VANITY OF THE WORLD. 
 
 the first Duke of Marlborough, who 
 flourished about the same period. When 
 the history of iiis 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, tiiat he was unconscious of what 
 he had done, and asked in admiration, 
 from time to time, " wlio 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." 
 
 (g) LORD CHESTERFIELD'S 
 CONFESSION.— 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. No 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 low. 
 Whereas those that have not expe- 
 rienced, always overrate them. They 
 only see the gay outside, and are daz- 
 zled at the glare. But 1 have been 
 behind the scenes. I have seen all the 
 coarse pullies and dirty ropes which 
 exiiibit 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. When I reflect on 
 what I have seen, what I have heard, 
 and what I have done, I can hardly 
 
 persuade myself that all that frivolous 
 hurry of bustle and pleasure of the 
 world had any reality ; but I look upon 
 all that is past as one of those romantic 
 dreams, which opium comnjonly 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? No, for I really cannot help it. I 
 bear it, because I must bear it, whether 
 I will or no ! I think of nothing but 
 killing time the best v/ay I 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 all this 
 ^vealth ? 
 
 jPo?' 7nore than thirty years he has been 
 in a lunatic asylum of London. 
 
 842 
 
r 
 
 VERACITY. 
 
 430 
 
 430. VERACITY. 
 
 (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 
 large 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 from 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 bathing ; 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 ia 
 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 officers 
 of his court remonstrated against his 
 taking that honorable but dangerous 
 measure, he told them, " Why, 1 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 accordingly 
 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 he 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 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." 
 
 Whereupon, 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 ?" 
 
 " I told them," said he,"an't please your 
 Majesty,that you poisoned your brother." 
 
 " Impudence in the utmost height of 
 it," said the king ; " pray let us hear 
 844 
 
 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 off 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?" 
 
 To which he, 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." 
 
 (d) 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) HEGIAGE AND THE PRIS- 
 ONERS. — Flegiage 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 
 
r 
 
 WAR. 
 
 431 
 
 taken his part against Abdarrahman. 
 But he, still respecting trutJi, answered, 
 that he had liot, because he believed it 
 was not his duty to do so. Hegiage, 
 notwithstanding his ferocity, was struck 
 with the prisoner's greatness of spirit. 
 " Well," said he^ after a moment's 
 pause, " suppose 1 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 sufficient ; 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. 
 Would, 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 ? Yet the fact is, that, instead 
 of irritating, it softened and disarmed 
 the tyrant. 
 
 WAR. 
 
 4il. Battles, Battle-Fields. 
 
 (a) BATTLE OF SOL DIN.— 
 
 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 I shall 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 them ! 
 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- 
 cries of the wounded. A noble Prus- 
 sian officer, 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 BATTLiiS— At Durham, 
 1346, there fell 15,000; at Halidonhill 
 and Agincourt, 20,000 each ; at Baut- 
 zen and Lepanto, 25,000 each ; at 
 Austerlitz, Jena and Lutzen, 30.000 
 each ; at Eylau, 60,000 ; at Waterloo 
 and Quatre Bras, one engagement, 
 I 70,000 ; at Borodino, 80,000 ; at Fon- 
 I tenoy, 100,000 ; at Yarmouth, 150,000 ; 
 I at Chalons, no less than 300,000 of 
 845 
 
432 
 
 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 Cannse, 70,000 fell. The 
 Ronrians alone, in an engagennent 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 Csesar 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." 
 
 4SI. Sieges. 
 
 (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 eagerly hunted out 
 in the cellars and common sewers. 
 Soon, however, jtven 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 sufferings. The 
 
 price of provisions had from the first 
 
 been extravagantly high, and at length 
 
 846 
 
 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 smallest 
 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 efl^ect 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 there, 
 with dying hands, for the means of pro- 
 longing their miserable existence for a 
 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 
 
SIEGES. 
 
 433 
 
 assistance or commiseration. To such 
 straits were they reduced, that not only- 
 leather arid 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 nutriment 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 saorifice 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, came 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 
 encumbered 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 fixst 
 approaching their dissolution." 
 
 (b) BOMBARDMENT OF ST. 
 JEAN D'ACRE.— The bombardment 
 
 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 eye-witness, " ail 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-of- 
 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 botii sexes, strewed in all direc- 
 tions, women searching for their hus- 
 bands and other relatives, tearing their 
 hair, beating their breasts, and howling 
 and crying most pitoously !" AH this 
 was done by England herself in 1840 ! ! 
 (c) SIEGE OF MAGDEBURG.— 
 In the siege of Magdeburg, in 1833, the 
 resistance was long and obstinate ; but 
 at length two gates were forced open 
 by the besiegers, aiyl 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 in vain to restrain such 
 847 
 
433 
 
 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. 
 
 Now 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 noi: 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 cut off! 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 slop 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- 
 mencement 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- 
 848 
 
 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 performed, 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, 
 
V 
 
 MILITARY HOSPITALS. 
 
 433 
 
 or confine it to one quarter of the city. 
 It was not long before more tlian thiriy 
 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 
 y 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- 
 frequently 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 
 the churches. 
 
 431. Military 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 
 54 
 
 with a whirlwind, and roll off in the red 
 and bloody distance. I felt myself in 
 a strange sort of excitement ; 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 ; 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 ; 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 comradeSj 
 and left there either dead, or to die, 
 849 
 
\ 
 
 434 
 
 WAR. 
 
 " This gliustly sight I had begun to 
 view with some composure, when 1 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 Warburton, 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 on 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 
 had 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 grim dead bodies. 
 
 " Near this corpse lay that of a per- 
 fect boy not more than seventeen years 
 850 
 
 of age. Round his neck was suspended, 
 by a chain of hair, a little copper figure 
 of the Virgin Mary, and in his hand 
 was a letter in French. I glanced at 
 it, and read enough to know it was 
 from a mother — My dear Sen, &;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 ? Were 
 they once all happy in peaceful homes ? 
 Did these convulsed, bloody, mangled 
 bodies, ever lie in undisturbed beds? 
 Did these clutched hands once press in 
 infancy a mother's breast ? Now, alas, 
 how loathsome, terrible, ghostlike ! Will 
 such creatures, thought *[, ever live 
 again ? Robbers, ravishers, incendiaries, 
 murderers, suicides — a dragoon there 
 had obviously blown out his own ^brains 
 — here is a very pandemonium of guilt 
 and horror!" 
 
 iU. Punishment of Soldiers. 
 
 (a) THE GAUNTLET.— "One 
 
 day," says a military man, " I was on 
 parade when preparation was making 
 for a kind of punishnrent called the 
 gauntlet. 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 ; but I 
 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, offi- 
 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 
 
w 
 
 PUNISHMENT OF SOLDIERS, 
 
 434 
 
 their sufferings, that many of them 
 committed suicide ; and one poor fellow 
 shot himself near my lodgings." 
 
 (6) PUNISHMENT OF A SOL- 
 DIER. — " One wintry morn," says an 
 eye-witness, " 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. When 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." 
 
 (c) 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 wore the marks of long con^e- 
 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 called 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 ag- 
 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 offices 
 851 
 
435 
 
 WAR. 
 
 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 de- 
 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. No 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 officer 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- 
 fin.' This done, the officer 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 took 
 aim. He then gave a blow on a drum 
 which was 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 head, holding the muzzle 
 852 
 
 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 officers to meet at his 
 quarters, whither we repaired, and 
 were treated to a glass of gin and wa- 
 ter ! I" 
 
 Uk Punishment of Marines. 
 
 (a) STEALING A HANDKER- 
 CHIEF. — Mark the severity 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-martial 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 m the letter. Fifty were laid or* 
 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 agonized 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 
 
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 
 of the Fairfield, says Mr. McNally, I 
 do 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 officers of the Fairfield 
 punished the men, and there was no 
 limit to the number of lashes, but just 
 as many as it might please the officer 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, so 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. 
 
 435. AVar and the Domestic Ties. 
 
 (a) 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 usually in the 
 chambers of the women, as if each fa- 
 ther had 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." 
 
 (h) 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 
 
436 
 
 WAR. 
 
 every movement of the two armies, 
 until the combat ceased, and all was quiet 
 once more. The shades of night now 
 hang in gloonfl 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 cov'ered with gore. She sinks 
 on his bosom in a swoon, and rises 
 no more ! 
 
 (c) THE MOTHER AND HER 
 BABE. — Glance at one scene in the 
 campaign of 1794-5. " We could not," 
 says an eye-witness, " proceed a hun- 
 dred yards without perceiving the dead 
 bodies of men, women and children. 
 One scene made an impression which 
 time can never efface. 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 iilfant 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." 
 
 {d) 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 
 motherless 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 
 854 
 
 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-morrow, 
 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-day I die ; and you, my son, 
 though young, must follow us shortly." 
 " Yes, my father," replied the broken- 
 hearted boy, " I sJiall 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. 
 
pr 
 
 TESTIMONIES AGAINST WAR. 
 
 436, 43Y 
 
 (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 lieu- 
 tenant, resting his musket on a rock, 
 shot the child while in the act of hand- 
 inor a cartridoje 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. When 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 
 discoveriftg 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 
 dead son in the arms of an enemy ; 
 and, seizing the boy, she tore him from 
 the 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 no longer, and 
 hastened away ; but that scene I can 
 never blot from my memory." 
 
 (/) GENERAL WASHING- 
 TON'S CONFESSION.— 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. Washington 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, " Who, sir, can he 
 be?" 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 !" 
 
 in. Testimonies against War. 
 
 (a) CICERO AND SENECA ON 
 WAR. — We could not expect the hea- 
 then to denounce a custom so emphati- 
 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 
 
437 
 
 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 ? 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." 
 
 {b) DECISION OF A PRIMITIVE 
 CHRISTIAN. — Maximilian having 
 been brought before the tribunal to be 
 enrolled as a soldier, Dion, the procon- 
 sul, asked him his name. Maximilian, 
 turning to him, replied, " Why wouldst 
 thou know my name ? I am a Chris- 
 tian, and cannot jiglii.^^ Then Dion or- 
 dered him to be enrolled, and bade the 
 officer mark him ; but Maximilian 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 inconsistency 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- 
 nseus, 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 to 
 856 
 
 fight. Tertullian, 200, indeed alludes 
 to Christians who were engaged in mili- 
 tary pursuits, but, on another occasion, 
 informs us, that many soldiers quitted 
 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, " We 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 of 'peace. By our prayers, 
 we fight for our king abundantly, but 
 take no part in his wars, even though 
 he urge us." 
 
 {d) 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 ! If 
 familiarity with the sight had not de- 
 stroyed all surprise at it, and custom 
 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 sacred 
 and profane." 
 
 (e) 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 Monluc, the marshal of France, con- 
 fess, ' that, were not the mercies of God 
 infinite, it were in vain for those of his 
 profession to hope for any portion of 
 them, seeing the cruelties by "them per- 
 mitted and perpetrated are also infi- 
 nite.' " 
 
 (/) LORD CLARENDON'S OPL 
 NION. — Lord Clarendon, illustrious in 
 the annals of England, is very explicit 
 
TESTIMONIES AGAINST WAR. 
 
 437 
 
 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." 
 
 ig) 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 he, 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 difficulties by arbitration ? Were 
 they to do it even by the cast of a die, 
 it would be better than by fighting and 
 destroying each other. We daily make 
 great improvements in natural philoso- 
 phy ; there is one I wish to see in mor- 
 al — the discovery of a plan that would 
 induce and oblige nations to settle their 
 
 disputes without first cutting one an- 
 other's throats." 
 
 (h) WAR MULTIPLIES LOSSES. 
 — Thomas Jefferson both wrote and 
 acted with great decision in favor of 
 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 ? 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 inefficient to- 
 wards redressing wrong, and multiplies 
 instead of indemnifying 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. Were 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." 
 
 (^■) WAR MAKES VILLAINS.— 
 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 .?" 
 
 (j) LOUIS BONAPARTE ON 
 WAR. — " I have been as enthusiastic 
 and joyful as any one after victory ; 
 857 
 
43*7, 43§ 
 
 WAR. 
 
 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 that 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, and passing through it as 
 quietly as possible, but 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, 1 still think, that 
 war, and the pain of death which society 
 draws upon itself, are but organized 
 barbarisms, an inheritance of the savage 
 state." 
 
 (k) 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 half a million 
 of men. A military man becomes so 
 sick of bloody scenes in war, that in 
 peace he 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 BROUGHAM ON WAR. 
 — " My principles — I know not whether 
 they agree with yours : they may be 
 derided, they may be unfashionable ; 
 but 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, 
 and debase the name of man." 
 
 {m) COST OF WAR.— What a 
 boundless spendthrift is war ! It is 
 estimated that every gun of our navy 
 858 
 
 costs an average of fifteen thousand 
 dollars a year; enough to support 
 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 I 
 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 annually 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 $40,000,000,000, 
 the bare interest of which would be, at 
 six per cent, 82,400,000,000 a year, 
 and, at only two and a half per cent, 
 no less than $1,000,000,000 ! 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 ! ! 
 
 M'^, Miscellaneous. 
 
 (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 horses that strewed 
 the road, there sprang two dreadful 
 diseases, the dysentery and typhus 
 fever, before which they melted 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. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 438 
 
 The roads, league after league, were 
 checkered with dead bodies covered 
 with snow, and forming undulations or 
 hillocks like those in a grave-yard. 
 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. 
 Another 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, 1 
 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 
 grinned on us like a death's-head !" 
 
 {i) EXPENSE OF MILITIA 
 DRILLS. — In a small town of New 
 Enorland, 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 
 adult 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 
 
 at barely twenty-five cents more, and 
 their equipments of every kind eight 
 dollars each, the aggregate, though 
 most of these estimates are too low by 
 half, would amount to no less than 
 $125.0, 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 WITH 
 CHILDREN.— "A distinguished in- 
 structor of youth," says the late Wil- 
 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. I took the 
 oldest boy, aged about seven years, 
 between my knees, and something like 
 the following conversation ensued : — 
 ' Do you love to see the soldiers V ' Yes, 
 I love to see the rub-a-dubs.' ' Would 
 you like to be one yourself ?' ' O, yes !' 
 ' Well, but do you know what these 
 soldiers are for V ' No.' ' Why, 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. 
 • Do you know who killed the little 
 babes in Bethlehem, because a wicked 
 man told them to V ' No.' ' They 
 were soldiers. Do you know who cru- 
 cified our Lord, and drove the spikes 
 through his hands and feet V 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 sol- 
 dier?' 'No.' 'Do you want to see 
 the rub-a-dubs V ' 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 ! 
 
 (d) TEN THOUSAND LIVES 
 EOR A BUCKET.— About seven hun- 
 859 
 
438 
 
 WAR. 
 
 dred years ago, there was a country in 
 Europe called Modena, and another 
 country 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 Bblogna 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 hii 
 
 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 
 substance — particularly human bones, i 
 Some of the good farmers of Yorkshire, j 
 were thus perhaps indebted to the very ! 
 bones of their children for their daily 
 860 
 
 bread ! What a commentary on war 
 and military glory does such a fact 
 furnish us. The soldiers of England 
 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 ! 
 
 {g) CONQUEROR GOING TO 
 JUDGMENT.— William 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 ; I can 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 ?" " It may 
 be glorious," replied the brave fellow, 
 " but I am thinking that all the human 
 blood I have spilled this day lias only 
 earned mefourpence.^' 
 
 (^) SCENE WORTH CONSIDER. 
 ING.— The New-York Journal of Com- 
 merce has the following article, depict, 
 ing the happiness which the news of 
 peace spread in New- 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 Cebi'a 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- 
 ligibly, " Peace / peace .'" The gentle- 
 
WORSHIP, PUBLIC. 
 
 439 
 
 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 ex- 
 claimed in greater words than he ever 
 used before or after. All hands rushed 
 into Hanover Square, crying, " Peace ! 
 yeace ! peace !'' The windows flew up, 
 for families lived there then. No sooner 
 were the inmates sure of the sweet 
 sound of peace, than the windows began 
 to glow with brilliant illuminations. 
 The cry of " Peace ! peace ! peace !" 
 spread through the city at the top of all 
 voices. No one stopped to inquire 
 about "free trade and sailor's risrhts." 
 
 No one inquired whether even the na- 
 tional honor had been preserved. The 
 matters by which politicians had irri- 
 tated 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 pla- 
 card, " 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 every thing which had in it 
 the sight or taste of peace. 
 
 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 V " No, sir," he replied, 
 " I never was happy till 1 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 
 observation of all the people, so greatly 
 affected him, that he sat down and con- 
 cealed his face. The person who sat 
 next to him encouraged him to rise and 
 answer the question. The minister re- 
 peated " Young man, are you willing 
 
 to come to Christ ?" 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 time ; 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. 
 
 ih) 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 
 861 
 
439—441 
 
 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." 
 
 (c) 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 bad roads were sufficient 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 Seram- 
 pore, once preached from Eccles. xi. 9 : 
 " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth," 
 dec. 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 
 
 440. WRATH OF MAN PRAISING GOD. 
 
 (a) 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, he 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 
 
 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. 
 
 44L ZEAL IN DOING GOOD. 
 
 (a) PAINTING WITH THE 
 MOUTH. — 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 formerly a most abandoned 
 character — one of 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 
 862 
 
 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 
 
ZEAL IN DOING GOOD. 
 
 441 
 
 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 officer. 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 madman, 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- 
 tive : — 
 
 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?" (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 ! — " 
 
 " I cannot to-day !" 
 
 " There is a daughter, 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 ; 1 cannot, in- 
 deed, afford it." 
 
 " My good, good, merciful Mons. 
 Aubertot — " 
 
 " Mons. le Pelletier, I beg you will 
 leave me : when I wish to give, you 
 know 1 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 brio-ht smilinfj look exclaim- 
 ed, " Well, that for me ; but the poor ! 
 what for the poor ?" 
 
 [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 benevolent spirit, burst 
 863 
 
441 
 
 ZEAL IN DOING GOOD. 
 
 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 ?" said the officer, 
 his hand upon his sabre, and his coun- 
 tenance inflamed 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 
 
 864 
 
 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 ij^ 
 visiting a young lady, who lay danger- 
 ously ill of an epidemic fever, in order^ 
 administer relief, he caught the distetijt 
 per, and fell a victim to his humanity, 
 January 20th, 1790. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 The numbers in this Index refer to the regular topics, which may be found in the book at the top of the pages ; 
 and when letters are joined to the figures they refer to particular anecdotes, which are designated by the same letters 
 where they are placed. 
 
 Abney, Sir T., and family worship, 328g-. 
 Absolution, papal, 301, 302, 356c. 
 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 bmtes, 5. 
 ibuse in prayer, 3266. 
 Acases, and the captives, '203 d. 
 Actors, 6. 
 
 '■ ctress converted, 352A. 
 Adams, John, and the Sabbath, 382rf. 
 A dams, John Quincy, and the Bible, 68d. 
 
 dams. Rev. Z., eccentricity of, 261m. 
 /..drian, character of. Hid. 
 
 and the bishop, 142a. 
 
 and his enemy, 158c. 
 
 and Ximenes, 407c. 
 Adranus and the martyrs, IMk. 
 .idu'tery — " the happy rake," 246ft. 
 Affection, conjugal, 7, 241, 436c. 
 
 filial, exemplified, 8, 436d. 
 
 filial, rew^arded, 9. 
 
 fillial, want of, 273. 
 
 fraternal, 10. 
 
 maternal, 11,287. 
 
 paternal, 12. 
 
 parental, want of, 272. 
 Afiliction, benefits of, 13, 348a, b, c. 
 
 comforts in, 50, 66, 190, 192. 
 
 gratitude for, 14. 
 Afiicaner, conversion of, 278A. 
 Age of Reason, GQd,f, 225d. ^^ 
 Aged, the, conversion of, 15, 125, 1266, c, 224a. 
 
 reverence for, 16. 
 
 temptations of, 1786. 
 Agents of benevolent societies, 17. 
 Agesilaus and his children, 12a. 
 Agrippa and Thaumastus, 2036. 
 Ailmer, Rev. Dr., faith of, 172a. 
 Alarms of conscience, groundless, 94. 
 Alexander the Great and his mother, 8a. 
 
 and Clitus, 20a. 
 
 and his victories, 1606. 
 865 
 
 Alexander and the humane driver, 203a. 
 
 and his influence, 225c. 
 
 tears of, 319c?. 
 
 and Diogenes, 429e. 
 Alexander, of Russia, and the peasant, 45g'. 
 
 and the ninety-first Pslam, 53n. 
 Alexander, Duke of Tuscany, and the peasant, 
 
 29d. 
 Alfi-ed the Great and his last loaf, 47m. 
 
 and the Psalter, 67d. 
 
 and his alphabet, 287a. 
 Alick, Blind, 69a. 
 
 Alienation prevented by confession, 91. 
 Alleine, Rev. J., reproof from, 371A. 
 Alphonsus, clemency of, 203c. 
 Alterations in the Bible, 67c. 
 Ambert, Eliza, and her lover, 253/. 
 Ambition, 18, 333. 
 Ames, Fisher, and the Bible, 556. 
 Amusements, vain, 30, 32, 116a, e, 350/, 411. 
 Amurath, wrath of, subdued by music, 289g-. 
 Anatomy proves a God, 185d, e. 
 Anaximander and his enemies, 407a. 
 Ancestry, 19. 
 
 Anderson, Rev. Mr., and the merchant, 3466. 
 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, 202i. 
 Antigonus, self-control of, 40 Ig". 
 Antinomianism, 23. 
 Antiquity, 24. 
 Antony and Aurelius, 45c. 
 Anundo, conversion of, 54A:. 
 Apologies, 25. 
 
 Apostacy, 26, 13g, h,j, 231e. 
 Appetite, slavery of, 2, 230, 2466, 412rf, e, g. 
 Applause, 27. 
 
 Arethusus, firmness of, 1736, 
 Arians confounded, 816. 
 
 miscellaneous, 427. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Aristides, as a judge, 239d. 
 
 banishment of, 2396. 
 Aristippus and jEschines, 361a. 
 Aristotle and theatres, 41 Ig. 
 Armada, the Spanish, 34 1 A;. 
 Arnold, Benedict, a rumseller and drunkard, 
 
 236a. 
 Artaxerxes and the favorite, 18/. 
 Assurance of faith, 172, 240. 
 
 of hope, 200. 
 
 of love to Christ, 249. 
 Asbury, Bishop, and Punch, I09e. 
 
 and his good works, 256g-. 
 Atheism and atheists, 73a, c,^, 185, a — g,209c, 
 213a, 216(Z, 219d, e, 221a, b, 222e, 223c. 
 Athenagoras, conversion of, 2146. 
 Athol, Duke of, a lunatic, 429h. 
 Atonement, 28, 81, 240, 256. 
 Attendance on Divine worship, 193, 279^, 350c, 
 
 388. 
 Augustine, conversion of, 65a. 
 
 fortnnate mistake of, 345e. 
 Aurelius and Antony, 45c. 
 Avarice, 29, 48, 267. 
 Avery, Rev. Mr., and the promises, 171. 
 
 Backsliders, backsliding, 13g, h, 26, 145c, 225c, 
 
 231e. 
 Backus, Azel, and the heathen, 242c. 
 Bacon, Lord, and atheism, 83g. 
 Bacon, Dr., and ministerial education, 151c. 
 Baily, Rev. J., and family prayer, 328a. 
 Bajazet and Tamerlane, 116c. 
 Balls, or public dances, incompatible with pray- 
 er, 30. 
 
 deaden natural sensibility, 31. 
 
 prevent conversion and ruin the soul, 32. 
 Bankruptcy, 33, 146c, 182a, b, c. 
 
 and Sabbath -breaking, 381k, 384c, f. 
 Baptism, 84a, d, e,f. 
 Barclay, and the robber, 2916. 
 Barrow, Dr., and Rochester, 261q. 
 Battles and battle-fields, 431. 
 Bautain, Mens., and the Bible, 55^. 
 Baxter, Rev. Richard, his delay and loss, 42d. 
 
 beneficence of, rewarded, 47^. 
 
 labors 4f, 258g-. 
 Bayard and his hostess, 44a. 
 Beatification of Romish saints, 304o, 6. 
 Beaufort, Cardinal, death of, 120_;. 
 Beauty, 34. 
 Becket, Thomas a, shrine of, 304c. 
 
 character of, 33 7g". 
 Bede's translation of the Bible, 53a. 
 Bedell, Rev. Dr., sermon of, 195d. 
 Beecher, Dr., sermon of to one hearer, 263i. 
 Beecher,Rev. Henry Ward, and profanity, 356d. 
 Beggars, beggary, 35, 333c. 
 Bell, David W., recantation of, 4266. 
 Beneficence, in hazarding life, 36. 
 
 in dying for others, 37. 
 
 self-denying, shown by the rich, 38. 
 
 self-denying, shown by the poor, 39. 
 
 with rule and system, 40. 
 
 with industry and frugality, 41. 
 
 with promptitude, 42. 
 
 to debtors and robbers, 43. 
 
 Beneficence, miscellaneous examples of, 44, 71, 
 184, 279a, 286, 31 7a— ^, 418, 420a. 
 rewarded by its own exercise, 45. 
 rewarded by gratitude and respect, 46, 203. 
 rewarded in various ways by Providence, 
 47, 282. 
 Benevolence, want of, 48, 29j. 
 misdirected, 49. 
 and cruelty combined, 117. 
 Bennet, Rev. Mr., and unsuccessful preaching, 
 
 256c. 
 Bereavements — the bereaved comforted, 50, 
 409c,g,j,k. 
 the bereaved converted, 51, 3486. 
 the bereaved rebuked, 52. 
 Berridge and Hicks, success of, 2636. 
 Bessus and the birds, 94c. 
 Beveridge, Bishop, at death, 2006. 
 
 and music, 289i. 
 Bible, historical facts, 53. 
 
 inspiration of, 54, 60a, e,/, i, 231d, e, g. 
 testimonies to the value of the — 
 
 testimony of distinguished persons, 55. 
 testimony of infidels, 56. 
 happy effects of the — 
 
 morality promoted, 57. 
 conversion 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. 
 seaiching the Scriptures, 68. 
 familiarity with the Bible, 69. 
 the Bible neglected, &c., 70, 299, 310c. 
 zeal in circulating the, 71. 
 miscellaneous, 72, 183, 219a. 
 Birth, obscurity of, 196, c, d. 
 Bishop, Mr., and delirium tremens, 2366. 
 Blackstone, punctuality of, 3556. 
 Blair, Dr., and virtue embodied, 132Z. 
 Blair, Mr., and evil company, 87c. 
 Blasphemy, 73, 304c, 358a, 3596. 
 Blessings at meals, 329. 
 
 on enemies, 155. 
 Blind, the, blindness, 146, c, 69a, 1166, 153m, 
 
 278^, 286e. 
 Blount, character of, 215i. 
 Boerhaave and slander, 4076, /, g. 
 Boldness, 112, 260. 
 Bolingbroke and Lady Huntingdon, 321a. 
 
 and Christianity, 217d. 
 Bonaparte, Louis, and war, 431 j. 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon, high hopes of, 18c. 
 and the peasant, I8d. 
 and the church-clock, 18c. 
 blasphemy of, 73 i. 
 and the Divinity of Christ, 81^. 
 dying, l22g. 
 worshiped, 269a. 
 delight of, in massacre, 3586. 
 Bonnell, integrity of, 228/. 
 Bonner, his treatment of Cranmer, 298a. 
 
 866 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Books, religious, usefulness of, in effecting con- 
 versions, 74. 
 
 in promoting revivals, 75. 
 Borgia, dying confession of, 1206. 
 Bourdaloue and Louis XIV, 260k. 
 
 eloquence of, 153e. 
 Bourne, Captain, and fishing on the Sabbath, 
 
 38U. 
 Boyle, Hon. Robert, benevolence of, 71a. 
 
 interest of, in missions, 286o. 
 Bowdler, apt saying of, I88e. 
 Bradbury and the assassin, 349a. 
 Brainerd and the Indians, 209a. 
 Bribery, 2286, g, 239c. ' 
 
 Bricconet, apostacy of, 225c. 
 Brothers, affectionate, 10. 
 Brown, Rev. D., punctuality of, 355e, 
 Brown, Rev. J., tribute to, 153/. 
 
 and his enemies, 156;'. 
 
 confession of, 188a. 
 
 and the opposer, 261 i. 
 
 submission of, 409i. 
 Brougham and war, 43 7Z. 
 Bruce, Robert, death of, 119c. 
 Bruen and his enemy, 155c. 
 Brutes, lessons from the, 5, 231a, 235c. 
 Buchanan, Rev. Claudius, and the Highlanders, 
 54h. 
 
 and the Bible-reader, 67z. 
 
 and the aged Christian, l07a. 
 
 and the Syrian Christians, 237c. 
 Buckley's misdirected letter, 1346. 
 Buller, Judge, and evil company, 87d. 
 Bundy and the prisoner, 2426. 
 Bunyan, Rev. John, zeal of, 258/. 
 
 and the jailer, 344c. 
 Bumford, Countess of, and public worship, 439c. 
 Burnet, Bishop, benevolence of, 45d. 
 Burkitt, Rev. Wm., and his injurers, 157 d. 
 Butler, Bishop, at death, 1726. 
 
 dinner with, 251c. 
 Butler, Hon. B. F., a Sunday School teacher, 
 
 399/ 
 Butterworth, Rev. J., experience of, 169c. 
 Byne, Rev. Mr., at a dance, 30c. 
 Byrd, Colonel, and the chief, 179c. 
 Byron, confession of, 83c. 
 
 and the fortune-teller, 177a. 
 
 Cadogan, Rev. B. W., and the musician, 26U. 
 Cassar, Augustus, and idolatry, 268c. 
 Caesar, Julius, at Pharsalia, 202a. 
 
 benevolence of, 456. 
 
 and his enemies, 1586. 
 Calumny, 407. 
 Calvary, rock of, 81/ 
 Calvin, disinterestedness of, 1426. 
 
 and Eckius, 173i. 
 
 labors of, 2586. 
 Cambyses and Caligula, 163c. 
 Candor, 4076. 
 Cannibalism, 274. 
 Card-playing, 76. 
 Carey, Dr., humihty of, 204m. 
 
 labors of, 286v. 
 
 Marshman and Ward's donationB, 2SSw. 
 Carter, Rev. J., and the tanner, 243c. 
 Caste, 77, 284a, 6. 
 
 867 
 
 Cathcart, diary of, 189c. 
 
 Cato, reward of, in doing good, 45a. 
 
 and Marius Curius, 103a. 
 
 the model and the monster, 318c. ^ 
 
 Cecil, Rev. R., and the bookseller, 13a. 
 
 and the servant girl, 47Z. 
 
 in illness, 66g. 
 
 and his dying mother, 1 18^. 
 
 faithfulness of, 145c. 
 
 and the robbers, 198c. 
 
 love of, for study, 258Z. 
 
 indebtedness of, to his mother, 287;?. 
 
 obedience of, to his father, 296a. 
 
 and his rich hearer, 3746. 
 Censure, censoriousness, 78, 407. 
 Chalmers, Dr., and the nobleman, 111c. 
 
 congregation of, 193/ 
 
 early preaching of, 256^'. 
 Chandler, Rev. Dr., and illness, 131. 
 Character, loss of, 141c. 
 
 Charity, gospel, 36-47, 83a, d,f, 106-110, 154- 
 162, 175, 176, 202, 203, 277a, c, /, 
 279c,/, t, 285, 286, 291-294, 311, 313, 
 317. 
 Charles V, words of, 319c. 
 
 disappointed, 33 7i. 
 Charles IX and the Prince of Conde, 173c. 
 
 and the Catholic governor, 2026 
 
 and MovilHers, 239g-. 
 Charles, Archduke, humanity of, 203/ 
 Charles, Rev. Mr., humility of, 204/ 
 
 practice of, 2626. 
 
 escape of, 345/ 
 Charlotte, Princess, benevolence of, 38d. 
 Chastisement of children, 135-139. 
 Chastity, 7g, 246a. 
 
 Cherokee Indians and the Osages, 156c. 
 Chesterfield and the infidel, 836. 
 
 and the vanity of the world, 429g. 
 Children, moral and religious influence of, 79, 
 328c,/ n, 388, 389, 39od, 396a, 397. 
 
 happy deaths of pious, 80. 
 
 duty to, 135-139. 
 Chinese, pretensions of the, 24. 
 
 monarch and the rebels, iQOd. 
 
 superstition of the, 268a. 
 
 infanticide of the, 272a.. 
 
 and European idolatry, 283c. 
 Choirs in churches, 289c, h. 
 Christ, divinity of, 81. 
 
 miscellaneous, 82. 
 
 denial of, 130. 
 
 love of, 186. 
 
 character of, 218. 
 
 love to, 248, 249. 
 
 crucifixion of, 261c?. 
 Christian, Rev. Mr., death of, 119j 
 Christianity, character of, 217. 
 Christians, the early, 1626, c, d, 4376, c. 
 Chronology of the Chinese, 24. 
 Chrysostom in exile, 1126. 
 
 and profanity, 339m. 
 Church discipline, 140. 
 
 joining the, 84. 
 Churches, difficulties in, 134. 
 Cicero, retort of, 19c. 
 and idolatry, 268c. 
 and war, 437a. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Clarke, Dr. A., early scruples of, 98g-. 
 
 and the dying man, 373A. 
 Clarke, Mr. A., and his workmen, 3396. 
 Clarke, Rev. J., discouraged, 264e. 
 
 a peacemaker, 3616. 
 Clarendon and war, 437/. 
 Claude and the prisoner, 175/. 
 Clemency, 43, 154-162, 202, 203. 
 Clement XIV and his ambassador, 113c. 
 Clothmg, gay, 146, 331 j, k, 403a, c. 
 Cobb, Nathaniel R., covenant of, 40c. 
 
 dying words of, 194A. 
 
 example of, 224c. 
 Cobbett and the duelist, 148tf. 
 Coke, Dr., and his hostess, 419a. 
 Cole, Dr., commission of, 345g-. 
 Collins, William, and the Bible, 55/. 
 Collins, the infidel, and Shaftsbury, 2156. 
 
 and the countryman, 297tZ. 
 Collins, John A., lectures of, 223c. 
 Colporteurs, 250fl, 414i. 
 Colstone and his missing ship, 38/. 
 
 and his vessel saved by a dolphin, Aid 
 Colt, punishment with the, 4356. 
 Combustion, spontaneous, 234a. 
 Commandment, the eleventh, 261c. 
 Commandments, the ten, 54a, 836, 132A, i, 211, 
 
 366(Z. 
 Commentaries, 85. 
 Commerce and missions, 282g-. 
 Coimnodus, cruelty of, 115a. 
 Communion of the Lord's Supper, 86. 
 Company, evil, 87. 
 Compassion, 36, 37, 154-162, 184. 
 Concert, monthly, influence of, 282i. 
 Cond6 and the Bible, 54Z. 
 
 firmness of, 1 73 c. 
 Conference meetings, 88. 
 Confession, noble examples of, 89. 
 Confession of sin, happy eff*ects 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, 9o, 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, 4056. 
 
 want of, 99. 
 Consecration to God, 100. 
 Consistency, Christian, 101. 
 Consideration, 102. 
 Constancy in prayer, 323. 
 Constantine and the miser, 429c. 
 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, &c., 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, 1496. 
 
 and the farmer, 26 1 k. 
 Comet and the judge, 1976. 
 Corruption of the heart and life a cause of infi- 
 delity, 213. 
 Cotton, Rev. J., sermon of, 259e. 
 Counterfeiters reclaimed, 57d. 
 Courage, moral, 4d, 112, 173, 175/, 260, 279c, 
 
 e, 284a, 285/, 7,331/ 
 Courtesy, 113. 
 Coventry dole, Aid. 
 Covetousness, 29, 48, 10 Id, 267, 374. 
 Cowper, William, experience of, 28g". 
 
 benevolence of, 44/ 
 
 his view of death, 172^. 
 Cowper, Bishop, and his wife, 175A. 
 Cranmer and his unworthy hand, 26/. 
 
 the Bible of, 53/ 
 
 and the traitors, 1766. 
 
 and Bonner, 298a. 
 Credulity, 114, 177, 306a, c. 
 Cressin, defence of, 2l0a. 
 Croesus, advice of, to Cyrus, 2516. 
 Cromwell and Rev. J. Howe, 45e. 
 
 and the merchant, 4Ga. 
 Crombie's care for business, 4lg-. 
 Crow, Dr., and the legacy, 44/t. 
 Crucifixion of Christ, 261<i. 
 Cruden and the gardener, 3866. 
 Cruelty exemplified, 115, 86. 
 
 punished, 116, 316. 
 
 and benevolence combined, 117. 
 
 to parents, 273. 
 Cudjoe and Murray, \19d. 
 Cupido, conversion of, 278f. 
 Cyprian and the pestilence, l62c?. 
 
 and the captives, 247e. 
 Cyrus, epitaph of, 122c. 
 
 crown of, 3 1 9a. 
 
 Dairyman's Daughter, conversion of, 263a, 
 Damon and Pythias, 179a. 
 Dancer, Daniel, the miser, 2676. 
 Dances, pubUc, 30-32. 
 Danger, infidels in, 221. 
 
 preservation from, 341-345. 
 Darracott, Rev. R., ministry of, 364/ 
 Daughters, affectionate, Qd, 9a, A;, n. 
 Da vies. Rev. S., posthumous influence of, 224e. 
 Davies, Rev. N., and his dissolute son, 3526. 
 Day, Rev. W., death-bed of, 119c. 
 Dawson, Rev. W., and the pedler, 260i, 
 Death, readiness for, 118, 2406, c. 
 
 happy deaths of Christians, 80, 119,280, 
 395. 
 
 unreadiness for, 120, 219c, 237. 
 
 miserable deaths of the impenitent, 121, 
 222, 426, 427e. 
 
 miscellaneous, 122. 
 
 influence after, 224, 225, 229e. 
 
 in the act of sin, 6c, d, 359. 
 
 in the theatre, 41 Ip. 
 Debates, 104, 214rf. 
 De Brez, glorying in trials, 192/ 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Debts on meeting houses, 123. 
 
 Decalogue, the, 54a, 836, 132A,f. 211, 366<Z. 
 
 Decision, Christian, exemplified, 173,333n, 403. 
 
 happy effects of, 382e. 
 Decius, death of, 316c. i 
 
 Decrees, divine, 124. 
 
 Deering, Rev. Mr., and the swearer, 254a. 
 Degradation of intemperance, 231. 
 Dehme, Rev. L. C, narrow escape of, 285c. 
 De Lambert, he of, 2l5d. 
 Delay of repentance causes regret, &c., 125. 
 
 hardens the heart, 15c, 126, 196, 367. 
 
 grieves away the Holy Spirit, 127, 365a, 
 367. 
 
 accompanied by sudden death, 128. 
 
 miscellaneous, 129. 
 Delicacy, false, 265A;. 
 Delight in wickedness, 358. 
 Delirium tremens, 236&. 
 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, 43c. 
 Des Barreaux, poem of, 2Sh. 
 Deserter, execution of a, 434c. 
 Despair, unfounded, 133, 4066. 
 Despair of the impenitent, 326, e, /, 706, d,f, 
 876, 97c, 1206, 12 1 c-g-, 126a, 128(Z, e, 
 I29e, 196, 310a, 406c. 
 Devil, existence and agency of, 400, 425/. 
 Devizes, inscription at, 208 c. 
 Devotees, Hindoo, 286, 279c,/. 
 Devotedness of ministers, 258. 
 Dickinson, Rev. B., sudden death of, 122a. 
 Diderot, confession of, 566. 
 
 and his servant, 446. 
 Difficulties in churches, 134. 
 Dioclesian, confession of, 315a. 
 
 death of, 316c. 
 Diogenes and pride in dress, 146<^, 
 
 reply of, to Alexander, 429e. 
 Discipline, family — disciphning children in in- 
 fancy, 135. 
 
 discipline accompanied with prayer, 136. 
 
 rehgious tendency of discipline, 137. 
 ^ discipline withheld, 138. 
 
 miscellaneous, 139. 
 Discipline, church, 140. 
 Dishonesty punished, 141. 
 
 miscellaneous, 180-182, 252, 373, 373, 377. 
 Disinterestedness, 142, 258^. 
 Disobedience to parents, 143. 
 Disquietude and misery of infidels, 219. 
 Distillers, 144. 
 
 Distinctions, nice, in sermons, 261/ 
 Divisions in churches, 93, 104/ 134. 
 Doctorates, venal, I99d. 
 Dod, Rev. Mr., and his persecutors, 136. 
 
 meekness of, 254c. 
 
 and the nobleman, 260g-. 
 
 singular visit of, 344z. 
 Doddridge, Rev. Dr., and the apostate, 26A. 
 
 and his daughter, 46^ 
 
 and Rev. Mr. Hervey, 105d. 
 
 righteousness of, llOd. 
 
 Doddridge, call of, to the ministry, 257a. 
 
 and the Dutch tiles, 2876. 
 Dog, anecdotes of the, 2dSd, in,p, 343A, k. 
 Domitian, death of, 316c. 
 Donne, Dr., and the murderer, 288e. 
 DooUttle, Rev. Thomas, and his imeasy hearer, 
 
 439a. 
 Doubts and fears of Christians, 145. 
 Dover, Robert, an extraordinaiy lawyer, 244A. 
 Dow, Lorenzo, and the thief, 94d. 
 Dreams, remarkable, 27, 288k. 
 
 preserving life, 343Z, m. 
 
 instrumental in conversion, 2386, 351. 
 Dress, 146, 337;, it, 403a, c. 
 Drew, Mr., and anonymous letters, 264a. 
 Drunkards, reformed, 2c, 59a, c, 79j, k, 350h, 
 352c, 4nd-g, k. 
 
 relapse of, 26, c, 229d. 
 Drunkenness, 1-5, 229-236, 340^, 402a, 424t 
 Drusus and his house, 228a. 
 Dueling, guilt of, 94c, 976, 147. 
 
 folly of, 148. 
 
 avoided, 149. 
 
 suppressed, 150. 
 Duty neglected, 84c, 88c, 111. 
 Dwight, Dr., and idleness, 206c?. 
 Dying for others, 37. 
 Dyonisius, the tyrant, envy of, 163a. 
 
 and Pythias and Damon, 179a.' 
 
 Eagle, anecdotes of the, 343d, j. 
 Earnestness in conversing with the impenitent, 
 107. 
 
 in prayer, 322. 
 Earthquake, wonderful escape from an, 3416. 
 Economy, 1, 8h. 
 Education of ministers, 151. 
 
 Religious, 152, 286?. 
 Edward, the Confessor, reply of, 202g^. 
 
 Sixth and the swords, 53Z. 
 Edwards, Rev. J., experience of, 250/ 
 Effectual calling, 249c. 
 Effort, prayer without, 326a. 
 Elliot, Mr., submission of, 409/. 
 Elliott and his brethren, 175c. 
 
 and his labors, 256rf. 
 
 zeal of, 286n. 
 
 prayer of, for Foster, 331g'. ^ 
 
 Ellsworth, Gov., a S. School teacher, 399/. 
 Eloquence, sacred, 153. %t 
 
 Elwes, the miser, 267e. *" 
 
 and his friends, 967/. 
 Enemies, love to — nature of, 154, 175/ 176a. 
 exhibitions of: 
 
 blessing, 155. 
 
 doing good to, 156, 1766. 
 
 praying for, 157, 175f, 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 become Christians, 
 161. 
 
 miscellaneous, 162. 
 Enmity to God, 1326, h,j, I, m. 
 Enmity subdued, 21, 92, 155-163. 
 Envy, 163. 
 
 Epaminondas, not to be bribed, \91d. 
 869 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Epictetas and slander, 407a. 
 Epitaphs, 204m, 250/, 256c, 3416. 
 Erasmus and war, 437d. 
 Eretrius and his father, 311/. 
 Erskine, Rev. E., and Ann Meiglo, 13c 
 in death, I19d. 
 and the murderer, 228a. 
 Erskine, Rev. R., and the criminal, I32g. 
 Erskine, Rev. H., deliverances of, 346c. 
 Erskine, Mrs., release of, from her coffin, 345j. 
 Eternity, 164. 
 Eternity of God, 1856. 
 Ethics, aside from the Bible, 362c, d. 
 Etiquette, undue regard to, 165. 
 Euclid, example of, 158d. 
 Eudamides and Venocrates, 104a. 
 Eugene, Prince, and Wslt, 437k. 
 Evans, Rev. W., on the rock, 170g-. 
 Evidences of Christianity, 28, 54, 56, 60, 83, 
 
 118-121, 1676, 168, 217-222, 237<Z,e,g-, 
 
 362c, d. 
 Example, Christian, 3e, 166, 4046, d. 
 Excuses of the impenitent, 32, 126c, I27b,c,d, 
 
 128fl, dj, g, h,j, k, 129a, 6. 
 Experience, Christian, effect of relating, 167. 
 
 every where similar, 168. 
 Eyre, John, and "his two wills, 1416. 
 
 Failures in* business, 33, 38U, 384c. 
 Faith, nature of, 169. 
 
 necessity of, 170. 
 
 examples of, 171, 132m, 133c, 294, 353. 
 
 triumphs of, 172, 240. 
 
 praying with, 320. 
 Falsehood, 366a. 
 Fanaticism and cruelty, 298. 
 Fanshawe, Sir R., superseded, 199a. 
 Farre, Dr., and the Sabbath, 379e. 
 Father, the, love of, in sending his Son, 1866, 
 Fathers, unfaithful. Hid, e, 138. 
 Fault-finding hearers, 193d, e. 
 Faults of ministers, 265. 
 Faustus and the devil, 53e. 
 Fear of death, overcome 118, 119, 120e. 
 Fears and doubts of Christians, 145. 
 Felix, Earl of Wurtemburg, boast of, 316c. 
 Females, treatment of among heathen, 275. 
 Fenelon and his pupil, 409^. 
 Fidelity and boldness of ministers, 260. 
 
 ^onjugal, 7. 
 Finl^, Dr., and the agent, 40/. 
 Fires, &c., preservation from, 341. 
 Firmness, Christian, 173, 67c, c, 175/, 283/, i, 
 
 4036, d. 
 Fishermen and the Sabbath, 381 A, i,j. 
 Fitz-Stephen and his son, 239i. 
 Flattery, 174. 
 Flavel, Rev. J., joy of, 192a. 
 
 influence of, after death, 224a. 
 Fletcher, Rev. J., gratitude of, 45j. 
 
 and his nephew, 112_;. 
 
 appeal of, 153n. 
 
 choice of, 258g. 
 Forbearance, 175, 401, 407fl, 6, c, t,j. 
 Forgiveness of injuries, 176. 
 
 Divine, 187, 2406, c. 
 Fortune-telling, 177. 
 Fothergill, generosity of, 3176. 
 870 
 
 Fox, John, benevolence of, 39m. 
 Francis II and his famishing subjects, 366. 
 Francke, school of, at Halle, 332f. 
 Franklin, Dr., and the Bible, 55c. 
 
 and his paper, 228g-. 
 
 proposal of, in Congress, 330d. 
 
 and war, 437^. 
 Fraud, 377, 180. 
 Frederic the Great and his page, 9/ 
 
 and his servant, 96. 
 
 and the apostate, 26g', 
 
 and the duelist, 150c. 
 
 and the miller, 239k. 
 Freedom, Christian, 2406. 
 Frelinghuysen, a Sabbath school teacher, 399/. 
 Fretfulness, 178, 139a. 
 Friendship, 179. 
 Fuller, Rev. A., and his church, 134a. 
 
 and his sermon, 187c?. 
 
 and his church rewarded, 282c. 
 
 and the passengers, 368c. 
 
 severity of, 372a. 
 Fun in preaching, 265g-. 
 Furrman, Dr., and the negress, 113rf. 
 
 Galen, hymn of, 185c. 
 
 Gambling, sustained by fraud, 180. 
 
 destroys natural sensibility, 181, 
 
 leads to bankruptcy and suicide, 182. 
 
 miscellaneous, 183. 
 Gardiner, Colonel, enjoyment of, 86a. 
 
 preparation of, 86/. 
 
 reply of, to a challenge, 1426. 
 
 putting down profanity, 339e. 
 Gardiner, Bishop, end of, 3166. 
 Gascoign and the Prince of Wales, 239«. 
 Gatimozin and the nobleman, 311a. 
 Gauntlet, running the, 434a. 
 Gayety, 30-32, 146, 337j, k. 
 Generosity, 184, 36, 37, 202,203, 3l7a,b,d,g. 
 Genius and intemperance, 231c. 
 George III and the peerage, 19a. 
 
 and the poor mechanic, 44d. 
 
 and his Bible, 686. 
 
 and his sepulchre, 118i. 
 
 prohibition of, 1746. 
 
 and the architect, 339». 
 Gibbon and Christianity, 83». 
 
 and death, 222c. 
 
 and his property, 223a. 
 Gibbs, the pirate, free from remorse, 3566. 
 
 tribute of, to Sabbath schools, 392d. 
 Glanville and his brother, 184c. 
 God, existence of, 185. 
 
 dependence on, 131. 
 
 omniscience and omnipresence of, 1326, 
 297. 
 Golding, dying words of, 194i. 
 Goldsmith, Dr., and novels, 2956. 
 
 and the beggar, 496. 
 
 and his patient, 317 g. 
 Good for evil, 154-162, 279e. 
 Goodwin, Dr., death of, 119^. 
 Grace and mercy of God, as revealed in Jesus 
 Christ, 186. 
 
 as seen in pardoning the guilty, 187, 414i, 
 415a. 
 Grace, salvation by, 256. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Graham, Mrs;, beneficence of, 406. 
 Gratitude, to God, 188, 14a, 45i,j. 
 
 to man, 189, 46. 
 Gregory XII and the massacre, 358a. 
 Gregory's Letters and the cadet, 4206. 
 Greshara and the grasshopper, 343c. 
 Grey, Lady Jane, and the Bible, 67t. 
 
 sarcasm of, 306e. 
 Grimshawe, Rev. Mr., zeal of, 260c. 
 
 success of, 263c. 
 Grosvenor, Dr., and his bereavement, 506. 
 Gustavus and the peasant girl, 9k. 
 
 and dueling, 150a. 
 Gutzlaff and the Chinese, 83/. 
 
 Hackett, Dr., and the soldiers, 260J. 
 Hadrian, death of, 316c. 
 Haldanes, conversion of the, 352A;. 
 Hale, Sir Matthew, and the poor, 38c. 
 
 and his enemy, 176c. 
 
 testimony of, 2326. 
 
 and the peer, 239c. 
 
 a Sabbath-keeper, 382a. 
 Hall, Rev. Robert, as an agent, 176. 
 
 and the Unitarian, 28c. 
 
 bereaved, 192^". 
 
 reproof of, to a mother, 252fl. 
 
 his opinion of a sermon, 2Cle. 
 
 first efforts of, in preaching, 264g". 
 
 his opinion of Mrs. Edgeworth, 295J. 
 Halleck, his reply to a fi-iend, 360d. 
 Halyburton, Rev. T., dying vi'ords of, 194g-. 
 Hamilton, General, his view of religion, 2 l2a. 
 Hamlin, Rev. Mr., and the Armenian, 250g. 
 Hands, Rev. W., and the Sabbath school, 398<f. 
 Happiness, religious, in perils and dangers, 190. 
 
 in illness, 191. 
 
 miscellaneous examples, 192. 
 Harris, Dr., and the soldiers, 112A:. 
 Harris, Dr., and the Universalist, 425(Z. 
 Harrison, President, a Sabbath school teacher, 
 
 399e. ^ 
 
 Hatred against God, 1326, c, d, h,j, I, m. 
 Haydn and cheerful music, 289a. 
 Hayne, Colonel, death of, 436d. 
 Haynes, Rev. Mr., and the scoffers, 26 IZ. 
 
 and the Universalist, 424c. 
 Hearers of the Gospel, 193. 
 Heart, gift of the, 8/, 4096. 
 
 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, 430c. 
 Heirs and inheritances, 245fl, c. 
 Henderson and his opponent, 401<Z. 
 Henriot, the infidel, death of, 222e. 
 Henry III and the potter, 173/. 
 Henry the Great reproved, 112^-. 
 Henry IV and the poor citizen, 113a. 
 
 and the siege, 202e. 
 Henry VIII and his buffoon, 412c. 
 Henry, Patrick, and the Bible, 55c. 
 Henry, Rev. Philip, prophecy of, 143c. 
 
 advice of, to his children, 253a. 
 
 promise of, 3246. 
 
 practice of,327c. 
 
 Henrj', Rev. Philip, comfort of, 347d. 
 
 and the broken story, 407e. 
 Henry, Rev. Matthew, meekness of, 254</. 
 Heretics and the Papists, 298. 
 Herod, violence of, 206. 
 Herod the Great, end of, 316a. 
 Hermit of Livry, 298/ 
 Herring, Rev. W., and Dr. Lamb, 157c. 
 Hervey, Rev. James, death of, 119/ 
 recantation of, 240a. 
 and the ploughman, 256/. 
 and the theatre, 411c. 
 Hervey, Mrs., death of, 119Z. 
 Hey, Surgeon, submission of, 409/ 
 Hill, Rev. Rowland, and the Antinomian, 236. 
 and his failure, 33d. 
 and the two converts, 263rf. 
 and the sea-captain, 339a. 
 and his gardener, 344c. 
 and the convert's dream, 351d. 
 Hindoo boys, pledge of the, 1596. 
 Hinton, James, and the communicant, ll2p. 
 Hobbes and death, 219c. 
 Holland, Mr., death of, 119«. 
 Holy Ghost, sin against, 406. 
 Holy Spirit, the — agency in conviction and 
 , conversion, 195, 333. 
 grieved, 196, 127. 
 Homei-'s Iliad, 225e. 
 
 Honesty, examples of, 197, 33, 98c, /, g, \ 
 392c. 
 the best policy, 198, 430. 
 tested, 83/ 132a. 
 Honor, the highest, 3156. 
 Honors, worldly, vanity of, 199, 194c. 
 Plooker, dying words of, 119^ 
 Hooper at the stake, 112g-. 
 Hope, power of, 200, 118, 119. 
 Hopper, Isaac, and Cain, 242c. 
 Horse-racing, 180c. 
 Hospital, the first, 83a. 
 Hospitality, 201,279a. 
 Hospitals, military, 433. 
 Howard, John, and his trials, 192^. 
 and family prayer, 328A. 
 and the countess, 337a. 
 his opinion of swearers, 338c. 
 and the highwayman, 345^. 
 labors of, 441c?. 
 Howard, Mrs., spending money of, 38g-. 
 Howe, Rev. John, and Cromwell, 45e. 
 long sermons and prayers of, 265/. 
 and the magistrate, 532c. 
 and the nobleman, 370/ 
 and the profane, 370A. 
 Hughes, Rev. J., and the scoffer, 17a. 
 " Hull, Father," at a ball, 306. 
 Human sacrifices, 270. 
 Humanity, exemplified, 202, 317a, g. 
 
 rewarded, 203. 
 Hume against infidelity, 2166, c. 
 
 and his mother's death, 222<f. 
 Humility, 204. 
 
 aflfected, 337^^. 
 Huntingdon, Lady, beneficence of, 38a, 6. 
 her son's tribute to, lOla. 
 Prince of Wales' tribute to, 1016. 
 and the laborer, 107c. 
 871 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Huntingdon, Lady, and Bolingbroke, 321a. 
 Husbands, affectionate, 7, 241a, c. 
 Huss, John, death of, 172i. 
 Hypocrisy, 205. 
 
 Idleness, 206. 
 Idolatry, folly of, 207. 
 Papal, 300. 
 ofthe heathen, 269. 
 Ignorance of the heathen, 268, 276o. 
 Ignorance causes infidelity, 212. 
 Iliad of Homer, 225e. 
 Immortahty ofthe soul, 194d. 
 Importunity in prayer, 322, 399c. 
 Imprecations answered, 208, 252g-, L 
 Impressions, early, 1526. 
 Impulses, 210. 
 
 Inconsistency of professed Christians, 209. 
 Inconsistencies of character, 117. 
 Indians, anecdotes of the. If, g, lie, 39/, 46<Z, 
 h, i, I, 98/, 153c, 158g, 179e, imd, 
 204A, 209a, 276rf, 277e, 278(Z, 284c, 
 285c, d, e, 29 le,/, h, I, m, 2936, 298/, 
 331 A:, 343/ 364c, d, 371c, 430a. 
 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, 262<Z. 
 prevented, 72c, 301. 
 and Universalism, 424A, 425e, 4276, c. 
 and Unltarianism, 4276, c, d. 
 Infidels converted, 60, 636, 75<^, 80c, 195n, 214, 
 223c, 287p, 3286, 3336, 3486, 350^", 3546, 
 373g-, 409c, 417. 
 Influence after death, beneficial, 224, 263/ 
 
 injurious, 225. 
 Ingenuity and wit, clerical, 261. 
 Ingratitude, 226. 
 
 Innes, Rev. Mr., and the infidel, 28i. 
 Inquisition, 303. 
 Insanity, fruitful cause of, 380d. 
 Insolvency, 33. 
 Inspiration of the Bible, 54, 60a-/, i, 237d,c,g, 
 
 3626, c,<7. 
 Instability, 13g-,A,i, 26, 225c, 231e. 
 Instrumentalities, feeble, 227. 
 Integrity, 228. 
 Intemperance : 
 
 way to intemperance, 229. 
 Effects of intemperance : 
 slavery of appetite, 230. 
 872 
 
 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, c, 79/ A:, 
 
 4l4d-g, i, k. 
 Irenseus and war, 437c. 
 Irish rebellion, Quakers in, 291;. 
 Irreverence in prayer, 326g^. 
 Irritability, 178. 
 Ives, Rev. Dr., and the criminal, 132e. 
 
 Jackson, Richard, honesty of, 198^. 
 Jacob's ladder, new use for, 26 In. 
 James the Less and the Pharisees, 157a. 
 James I. and the earl's genealogy, 19/ 
 Janarius, St., and the horses, 3l0e. 
 Janeway, Rev. J., and conversation, 105a. 
 
 and the judgment, 238c. 
 Janeway, Rev. William, death of, 119A. 
 Jay, Rev. William, and his wife, 7h. 
 
 and the angel, 261o. 
 Jefferson and war, 431 h. 
 Jenks, Mr., death of, 119r. 
 Jerome, death of, 112c. 
 Jewel, Bishop, recanting, 1306. 
 Jews, 237. 
 
 Joachim and the Waldenses, 342a. 
 John, first chapter of, 195a. 
 John, King, and his hostages, 4306. 
 Johnson, Dr., and the Bible, 55d. 
 
 confession of, 89 a. 
 
 advice of, to a mother, 252A. 
 
 and his mother, 287A. 
 
 and profanity, 369c. 
 Johnson, Rev. Mr., and his visit to Wetherell, 
 
 Mod. 
 Joints, structure of the, 546, lS5d. 
 Jones, Sir William, and the Bible, 55a. 
 Joseph, emperor of Germany, and dueling, 
 
 1506. 
 Joy in heaven over repenting simiers, 250g'. 
 Joy unspeakable, 192a, 6. 
 Judaism, 237. 
 
 Judgment day, 238, 264c, 3516, c. 
 Judson, Dr., sufferings of, 2856. 
 Judson, Mrs. Ann H., experience of, 170<Z. 
 Julian, the apostate, death of, 3166. 
 Julian, Pope, death of, 298g-. 
 Julius II and St. Peters, 301a. 
 Justice and equity, 239. 
 Justification by faith, 240. 
 
 Kaimack, first Greenland convert, 186a. 
 
 Kalley, Dr., in prison, 440a. 
 
 Kapiolani's contempt of the goddess, I73d. 
 
 Karkeet, the dying coal-miner, 1 I9p. 
 
 Kelly and the drowning boy, 36e. 
 
 Ken, Dr., firmness of, llSh. 
 
 Kennicott, Rev. Dr., and his polyglot Bible, 67m. 
 
 Kent, passengers of the, 1906. 
 
 Kentish, Rev. Mr., sudden death of, 1226. 
 
 Keys of the church, 140a. 
 
 Kilpin, Rev. S., and his church members, 134c. 
 
 example of, 175e. 
 
 and the sailor, 259a. 
 
 and his theft of a penny, 357a. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Kilpin, and his penitent son, 3666. 
 Kincaid, Rev. E., at Ava, 285/. 
 Kindness, conjugal, 241. 
 
 power of, 242. 
 King, Rev. Jonas, and his teacher, 1516. 
 Kircherer and the assassin, 343A;. 
 Kneeland's follower, 3336. 
 Knill, Rev. R., and his mother, 287/. 
 
 and his fellow students, 398/. 
 Knollys, Rev. Hanserd, deUverance of, 346<f . 
 Knox, John, before the queen, 112i 
 
 reply of, to the prisoners, 202A. 
 
 and the assassin, 344A. 
 Kunnuk, the avenger, 154a. 
 
 Labor, dignity of, 243. 
 Lacedasmonians, reasoning of, 2436. 
 Ladd, William, becoming a teetotaller, 36. 
 
 and his neighbor Pulsifer, 159/. 
 
 conversing with children on war, 438c. 
 Language, simplicity of, 259. 
 Languet, John B., and the dearth, 38i. 
 Las Basas, death of, 222e. 
 Las Casas, benevolence of, 49d. 
 Lathrop, Dr., on dress, 146e. 
 
 humUity of, 204Z. 
 Latimer going to London, 112A. 
 
 labors of, 258i. 
 
 and the king, 260A. 
 
 accused before Henry VIII, 260n. 
 
 reproof from, 368«. 
 Laughter of scoffers, 375. 
 Lavater and the pauper, 39Z. 
 
 and the prefect, 112^. 
 Law of God, 54a, 836, 132h,i. 
 Lawrence, advice of, 1576. 
 Lawsuits and lawyers, 244. 
 Leaf, lesson from a, 185c. 
 Learned, conversion of the, 63. 
 Lee, Rev. Mr., and the general, 291d. 
 Lee, Edward, secret of his success, S27g, 
 Legacies, 245. 
 
 Legare, Mrs., death of, ll9k. 
 Legunia, confession of, 218a. 
 Leighton, Archbishop, and the liars, 2526. 
 
 meekness of, 254e. 
 
 sermon of, 2616. 
 Lent, Chinese views of, 283c. 
 Lepelletier and the merchant, 4416. 
 Lepers, missionaries to the, 2506. 
 Levity in preaching, 265g. 
 Liberality, 36-47, 247a. 
 Licentiousness, 246, 414h. 
 Links and the murderer, 154c. 
 Linnaeus and his motto, 297a. 
 Litigation, 244. 
 
 Livia, advice of, to Augustus, 158/. 
 Livmgston, Dr., and the students, 168a. 
 Locke, John, and the Bible, 55z. 
 
 and the card-players, 16d. 
 
 resignation of, 239/ 
 Loo Choo Islands, 20 1 z. 
 Losses from religion, 188c. 
 Lotteries, 1806, 182e. 
 Louis IX and the kitchen boy, 2046'. 
 Louis XIV and his anecdote, 113e. 
 
 and the ambassador, 202c. 
 
 and the chancellor, 2'S9h. 
 
 Love, conjugal, 7. 
 
 filial, 8, 9. 
 
 fraternal, 10. 
 
 maternal, 11. 
 
 paternal, 12. 
 
 of God in sending his Son, 28d, 1866. 
 
 to enemies, 154-162. 
 
 brotherly, 247. 
 
 to souls, 250. 
 
 to Christ, 248, 249. 
 
 of Christ, 261. 
 Lunatics, Pinel and the, 242a. 
 
 restored, 242a, 332d. 
 
 prayer for, 33 le. 
 Luther, will of, 14d. 
 
 beneficence of, 446. 
 
 discovering a Bible, 53g. 
 
 prayer of, 1046. 
 
 fortitude of, ll2d. 
 
 summoned to Worms, ll2e. 
 
 on Pilate's staircase, 170a. 
 
 industry of, 258a. 
 
 preaching of, 2596. 
 
 his opinion of music, 289/ 
 Luxury, 251. 
 
 Lyford, Rev. Mr., glorious position of, 240c- 
 Lying, 18/ 1776, 208a, c, 252, 366a. 
 
 Machiavel and war, 43 7f. 
 
 Macedo and his preserver, 2266. 
 
 M'Laren and Gustart, 256/. 
 
 Madan, Rev. Mr., conversion of, 350d. 
 
 Magnanimity, 112, 175, 176, 184, 430. 
 
 Mahommed, escape of, 354a. 
 
 Mahommedanism — Mahommedans, 27Sj, 354a, 
 
 4156. 
 Manton, Dr., semion for, 265Z. 
 Marines, punishment of, 435. 
 Marlborough in his dotage, 429/ 
 
 and the soldier, 438A. 
 Marriage, 253. 
 
 Marshall, Judge, a S. School teacher, 399a. 
 Marshall, Rev. S , dying, 172/ 
 Mart, Mr. and Mrs., and their son, 3256. 
 Martinet's achievements, 36/ 
 Martyn, Henry, reproof from, 371d. 
 Martyr, Justin, and love to enemies, 1626. 
 
 and war, 437c. 
 Martyrdom— martyrs, 676, c, 119a, 122;, 130a, 
 172z,/ 1736, c, I76d, 194/ A:, 2406, 279c, 
 284a, 3156, 341/ 403^. 
 Marvell, integrity of, 2286. 
 Mason, Dr., criticism of, 265a. 
 
 reply of, to the scoffer, 217c. 
 
 and the dying Unitarian, 335a. 
 Mason, Sir John, example of, 3276. 
 Massillon, eloquence of, 1536?. 
 
 and the vicar, 1796. 
 
 and the thoughtless assembly, 26 1^. 
 Mather, Cotton, and the dying man, \32d. 
 
 ambition of, 156i. 
 
 libels on, 175z. 
 
 retraction of, 2046. 
 Maurice, Rev. Mr., and the constable, 260/. 
 Maximianus Galerius, end of, 3 16c. 
 Maximianus Herculeus, end of, 316c. 
 Maximilian and Dion, 4376. 
 May, Rev. R , and the S. School, 398c. 
 873 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Mazarin, Cardinal, death of, 12 Ig-. 
 Meals, giving thanks at, 329. 
 Meekness, 175, 176, 254, 401. 
 Meeting-houses, debts on, 123. 
 Meetings for prayer, 330, 33la,di,m. 
 Meetings, conference, 88. 
 Meikle and his patient, 370c. 
 Melancholy, 66, 1336,145. 
 Melancthon and his mother, 104c. 
 
 and old Adam, 132/. 
 
 experience of, 327a. 
 
 Luther's prayer for, 331c. 
 
 punctuality of, 355/. 
 
 servant of, 404c. 
 Melville and his brethren, 441c. 
 Memnon and the soldier, 370^. 
 Memory and piety, 255, 1936. 
 Mends, Rev. H., dream of, 2386. 
 MenkikofF, sketch of, 319c, 342e. 
 Mercy shown by God, 186, 187, 414i. — ^ 
 
 shown by man, 176, 202, 203. 
 Merit of good works, 256. 
 Merlin preserved by a hen, 3436. 
 Metellus, triumph of, 203c. 
 Midwood, Abraham, visit to, 374g-. 
 Militia drills, expense of, 438e. 
 Mill, Rev. P., rescue of, llOo. 
 Millard and Louis XI, 260fl. 
 Milne, Rev. Dr., zeal of, 204A;. 
 
 and his early closet, 327A. 
 Ministers, Christian — call to the ministry, 257. 
 
 industry, energy, &c., 258. 
 
 simplicity 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, 2906. 
 
 miscellaneous, 266, 882j, 287i, 419. 
 
 education of, 151. 
 Miracles, papal, 305. 
 Mirza Mahomed Ali, 278;. 
 Misers, 29c, A. 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 missions : 
 
 temporal benefits, 98c, 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, &c., of nominal Christians, 
 2094 283. 
 
 prejudice and persecution, &c., 284. 
 874 
 
 Missions, zeal for, 3^d-k, 286. 
 
 and S. Schools, 3896, 398. 
 
 miscellaneous, 186fl, 6. 
 Missionaries, privations and perils of, 285, 
 
 345i. 
 Montesquieu at Marseilles, 9d. 
 Morahty, reliance on, 132m, 256, 4026. 
 
 promoted, 57, 364, 414. 
 More, H., her view of ingratitude, 226(2. 
 
 her view of fiction, 295e. 
 Morrell, Rev. S., death of, 119f. 
 Morrison, Dr , and the S. School, 3986. 
 Morion, Rev. A., dejected, 2646. 
 Mor\'illiers and Charles IX, 239g. 
 Mothers, pious, influence of, 287. 
 
 affectionate, 11. 
 
 unfaithfiil, 1116. 
 Mundy, Rev, Mr., and the S. School, 398c. 
 Munich, Count, and Catherine II, 228e. 
 Munmoth and the Papist, 155a. 
 Murderers, misery, detection, and punishment 
 
 of, 288. 
 Murder, miscellaneous, 20a, c, 57c, 3356, 383g". 
 Music, 289. 
 
 Mutcham and the murdered boy, 288r. 
 Mutius, sadness of, 1636. 
 
 Nardin, Rev. J., and his enemies, 1565. 
 Navigator Islands, change in, 28 le. 
 Neflf, Rev. Felix, mistake of, 262e. 
 Neglect of the Bible, 70. 
 
 Negroes, anecdotes of, 9m, lid, 14a, 28d, 376, 
 396, c,c, 46/,;, 54e, A, 66A, 1006, 101c, 
 157e,/,g-, 173^, l'I9d, 182c, 189d, 195/, 
 201a, 263A, 285?, 286a, 6,/, Z, 336a, 
 3506, 3926. 
 Nelson, Dr., and the conversion of infidels, 2l4a, 
 Neptune, loss of the, 234c. 
 Nero, death of, 3 16c. 
 
 effect of power on, 3186. 
 Nettleton, Dr., and the unfaithful minister, 266o. 
 Newton, Sir Isaac, and Dr. Halley, 2126. 
 
 and his dog, 401c. 
 
 in his dotage, 429/ 
 Newton, Rev. John, reproof from, 14c. 
 
 his advice to an author, 104c. 
 
 his remark to his daughter, I22i 
 
 saying of, 131/ 
 
 his rule for dress, 1466. 
 
 and Mr. Occam, 1686. 
 
 and his view of heaven, 1945. 
 
 his soliloquy, 204a. 
 
 mother of, 2246. 
 
 singular memory of, 2556, c. 
 
 his unwillingness to stop preaching, 258^;". 
 
 habit of, 3476. 
 
 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, 292. 
 
 transforms aggressors into friends, 293. 
 
 and trust in God, 294. 
 
 miscellaneous, n5a,c-g,j, 176, 284c. 
 Nott, Kev. Mr., and the South Sea Islander, 
 
 1866. 
 Novels, 295. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Oaths, false, 314. • 
 
 Obedience to parents, 296. 
 
 Oberlin, method of, with beggars, 356. 
 
 practice of, 40a. 
 
 in the French Revolution, 46s. 
 
 and the conspirators, 292a. 
 Oglethorpe, Gen., and his servant, ]76c. 
 Olds, Rev. J., sudden death of, 1226. 
 Omission, sins of, 405c. 
 Omnipresence and omniscience of God, 1326, 
 
 297. 
 Origen and his enemies, 162c. 
 
 and war, 437c. 
 Ostentation in prayer, 326d. 
 Ousley, Rev. Mr., zeal of, 258^?. 
 Ovid and theatres, 41 If. 
 Owen on forgiveness, 13/. 
 Oxenstein and the Bible, 55/«. 
 
 Paine, Thomas, and the Bible, 545-. 
 
 and Christianity, 218c. 
 
 advice of, to a traveler, 2206. 
 
 last days of, 222/ 
 
 the elder's visit to, 222g. 
 
 confession of, to Mr. Randall, 222/i. 
 
 and his Age of Reason, 225d. 
 
 and his perplexity, 362c. 
 Palmer, R^v. H., and the governor's appeal, 
 
 286m. 
 Panther and the buffaloes, escape from, 343i. 
 Papacy — fanaticism and craelty, 298, 3460?, e, h. 
 
 hostility to the Bible, 53b, 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-i, 2256, 3l0. 
 
 papists converted, 61, 79i. 
 Parents, affection for, 8, 9, 143d. 
 
 disobedience to, 143. 
 Paibeek, Sarah, patience of, 311d. 
 Park, Mungo, and the negress, 2Glflr. 
 Parkhurst's generosity, 1846. 
 Parmenides and Plato, 276. 
 Pascal, saying of, 192A. 
 Patience, 311. 
 Patriotism, 4e, 312. 
 Paul and Plato, 227fl. 
 Payson, Dr., dying words of, 119«. 
 
 happy in trials, 170/ 
 
 love of, for preaching, 258^-. 
 
 and the lawyer, 262c. 
 Peace, 277a, 29 1 -294, 438i. 
 Peace-makers, 313, 389A. -^ 
 Peden, Alexander, prayer of, 3317*. 
 Pedro, Don, confession of, 298c. 
 Penn, pacific policy of, 291/. 
 
 punctuality of, 355c. 
 Perjury, 314. 
 
 Persecution, 846, d-f, 315, 349, 416rf. 
 Persecution overruled, 349, 440. 
 Persecutors, end of, 316. 
 
 Persecutors and enemies, preservation from, 342, 
 
 3446, e, g, 3456, e,j, k, 3466, 3536. 
 Pericles and the railer, 1 58a. 
 Perils and dangers, happiness in, 190. 
 Perseverance, 79i, 235a, 4146, 428/ 
 
 in prayer, 323, 330a-c, 33.3/ 
 Peter; Bishop, firmness of, 1 l2o. 
 Peter the Great and the clergyman, 2106. 
 
 industry of, 243c. 
 
 and Menzikoff, 342e. 
 
 confession of, 40 le. 
 
 and slander, 407/t. 
 Peterborough and Fenelon, 1666. 
 Philip of Macedon wrestling, 18a. 
 
 and the Argive, 160c. 
 
 and the ambassadors, 1 76a. 
 
 and the poor woman, 239Z. 
 
 and the Athenian orators, 407j. 
 Philip, Rev. Dr., zeal of, 286s. 
 
 and the S. School, 3985-. 
 Philip, Bishop of Heraclea, boldness of, 112a. 
 Philip III of Spain, his lament, 12 la. 
 Phocion's dying counsel, 158/". 
 Physicians, 41n,v, 1106, 185tZ, c, 242/ 317, 
 
 374e,/, 385c. 
 Pillsbury and the giant prisoner, 242(2. 
 Pitt, the orator, death of, 4296. 
 Pittacus, law of, 23 66?. 
 Pius V, dying words of, 310a. 
 Plato and Parmenides, 276. 
 
 and Paul, 227a. 
 
 and slander, 407a. 
 
 and the theatre, 411/ 
 Pliny, double character of, 117c. 
 Policy, worldly, 2&g. 
 Polycarp, death of, 1 19a. 
 Polygamy, 275a. 
 
 Pomphret, Rev. J., and the robber, 292c. 
 Posthumous influence, 224, 229c. 
 Powell, Rev. V., and the oflicer, 159A. 
 
 and the game of foot-ball, 348a. 
 Pow^er, 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., I13g, 323. 
 
 miscellaneous, 324. 
 Unscriptural prayer : ^ 
 
 praying without submission, 325. 
 
 various examples, 101c?, 276c, 304, 326. 
 Occasions of prayer : — 
 
 secret prayer, 79rf, 327. - 
 
 family prayer, 796, e, 328. - 
 
 giving thanks at meals, 329. - • 
 
 social and public prayer, 219g, I, 330. 
 Prayer answered : 
 
 by God's providential control of material 
 and animal agencies, 331, 346d, 349 g. 
 
 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. 
 
 various examples of the power of, 157g, 
 162a, 193e, 217a, 287A:, 335,344d. 
 
 miscellaneous facts respecting, 336. 
 875 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Prayer, inability to offer, 10d,f. 
 
 and family discipline, 136. 
 
 and education, 152c. 
 
 awful, answered, 196c, 208. 
 
 the Lord's, 286d, 325a, 4Mh. 
 
 to and for the dead, 304. 
 
 and the theatre, 4lld,r. 
 
 and tobacco, 4126, d. 
 
 and rumselling, 423/. 
 Preparation for the pulpit, 258^, I. 
 Pride, 337. ' 
 
 Privations and perils of missionaries, 285. 
 Prize-fighter converted, 175g". 
 Procrastination, 125-128, 367. 
 Profanity, siniul, 338. 
 
 rebuked, suppressed, abandoned, 79a, 86d, 
 339, 368/, 414a. 
 
 punishment of, 73, 340. 
 Profligate, conversion of the, 59a. 
 Providence — in preserving life by the control of 
 
 material and animal agencies : 
 . Preserving from fires, &c., 341. 
 
 from persecutors, &c., 342. 
 
 fi-om 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, 332a-c, 346. 
 
 overruling various acts, &c., 347. 
 In conversions ; 
 
 overruling misfortunes, &c., 348. 
 
 overraling persecution, 349. 
 
 overruling various forms of wickedness, 
 350, 4l9d. 
 
 overruling dreams, &c., 351. 
 
 overrulmg various feelings, &c., 352. 
 Providence, trust in 353. 
 Prynne and the theatre, 41 Iw. 
 Publican, prayer of the, 324a. 
 Pummehannit, prayer of, 331^. 
 Punctuality, 353, 4396. 
 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,c,359. 
 Punishment, future, 360. 
 Purgatory, 307. 
 Pye and the inquisitors, 3036. 
 Pyrrhus and the philosopher, 186. 
 Pythias and Damon, 179a. 
 
 Quarrels, 20c-e, 361. 
 Quintus and his son, 8b. 
 
 Raban, Rev. T., escape of, 341c, 
 Rabbi, reason of, for weeping, 120a. 
 Raffles, Lady, and her nurse, 52a. 
 Rain, prayer for, 331a. 
 
 withheld in answer to prayer, 331d. 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, and war, 43 7e. 
 Randolph, John, and his mother, 287Ar. 
 
 dying remorse of, 365/ 
 Raitea, great change in, 277g. 
 876 
 
 Raritonga, great change in, 28ld. 
 Raymond and the traveler, 291a. 
 Ravencross and his slave, 16lo. 
 Reader, Rev. T., and secret prayer, 79d. 
 
 and the child, I09d. 
 Reason, insufficiency of, 302. 
 
 and conscience against infidehty, 216-222. 
 Reason, Goddess of, her last days, 223d. 
 Rechabites, 46. 
 
 Recognition of friends in heaven, 248c. 
 Reconciliation to God, 363. 
 Rees, Rev. J., in death, 172c. 
 Reflex influence of benevolence, 45-47, 1236, 
 
 282. 
 Reformation of inebriates, 235. 
 Regeneration, 195. 
 Rejection of the Bible, 70. 
 Relics, papal, 304d, 305a, 308. 
 Religion, reforming power of, 57, 59, 364, 390, 
 
 414. 
 Remorse, 876, 94-97, 288a, o,r, 365. 
 Renwick, joy of, 194/ 
 Reparation of injuries, 95, 373. 
 Repentance, 1776, 366, 373. 
 
 on death-beds, 367. 
 Reproof of sin — faithfulness and firmness, &c., 
 79i, 368. 
 
 proper spirit, &c., 19h, 369. 
 
 skill and prudence, &c., la, 52, 3296, 370. 
 
 happy effects, &c., 371. 
 
 miscellaneous, 372. 
 Restitution, 95, 2796, 373. 
 Restorationist, Dr. Nott and a, 3606. 
 Retraction of error, 89-93, 2046. 
 Revelation needed, 362. 
 Revenge, 2i)2i. 
 Revivals, interesting, 75, 1076, 195h,p, 282t, 
 
 287o, 330a-c, 334, 394. 
 Reynolds and the orphan, 204c. 
 Riches, 29c, 120, g,h,j, I2la,d,g, 222a, 374. 
 Richmond, Rev. Legh, and his mother, 50a. 
 
 and his son, 58/ 
 
 forbearance of, 1756. 
 
 and Satanic agency, 4006. 
 Riddle's dying testimony, 170c. 
 Ridicule, 375. 
 
 Ritchie and the profane swearer, 260e. 
 Rivet, Rev. Mr., patience of, 311c. 
 Robbers— robbery, 43c, d, 98a, 376. 
 Robespierre, death of, 222e. 
 Rod, use of the, 135-139. 
 Rochester, Lord, and Isaiah liii, 60a. 
 
 morals of, 215(Z. 
 
 confession of, 23 7g'. 
 Romaine, Rev. W., and card-playing, 766. 
 
 admonition from, 76c. 
 
 sermon of, 259/ 
 
 reproof from, 338d. 
 Romans, chapter first, 54c. 
 Rose, James, the Christian in hell, 1336. 
 Rousseau, confession of, 2186. 
 
 and theatres, 411;. 
 Ruggles* escape from savages, 343g^. 
 Rule, the golden, 377. 
 Rum-sellers and rum-selling, 421-423. 
 Rush, Dr., and theatres, 411 A;. 
 Ryland, Rev. J., and the innkeeper's family, 
 328/ 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Sabat, misery of, 365c. 
 
 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, 279cZ, 317A. 
 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. 
 
 connection of, with the ministry and mis- 
 sions, 398. 
 
 miscellaneous, 399. 
 Sacrifices, human, 270. 
 
 Sailors, anecdotes of, 44e, 51c, 58, 67/, 73^, 
 79h, 16Ic, 1696, 282A, 327>, 339/, 345e, 
 353d, 369a, 3Slf,j, 393j, k, 418a. 
 St. Just, the infidel, death of, 222e. 
 Salmasius, dying words of, 70a. 
 Salter's benevolence, 317e. 
 Satan, agency of, 400. 
 Saunders, David, and his Bible, 666, 696. 
 
 contentment of, 103/ 
 Saxe, Marshal, and the soldier, 438e. 
 Schiller, his title of nobility, 290a. 
 Schmidt, Rev. Mr., and the Jew, 3736. 
 Schoolmen, prayers of the, 256i 
 Scofl^ers-scoflSng, 17fl, 73, 208, 350z. 
 Scotch, religious education of the, 152c?. 
 Scott, Rev. J., and his sword, 149c. 
 Scott, Rev. Thomas, and cards, 76a. 
 
 death of, 119q. 
 
 his love for souls, 4086. 
 Scriptures, the Holy, 53-72. 
 Searching the Scriptures, 68. 
 ^ Sieges, 432. 
 
 Selden, comfort of, 28e. 
 
 Self-control, 401. 
 
 Self-deception, 402. 
 
 Self-denial, 403, 258?, 397A 
 
 Selfishness in prayer, 326c. 
 
 Self-righteousness, 256, 
 
 Self-torture and self-murder, 271. 
 
 Seneca and war, 437a. 
 
 Sensibility injured or destroyed, 31, 181. 
 
 Sermon on the Mount, 54A:, 83c. 
 
 Servants, 37c, d, 286m, 368e, 370p, 404. 
 
 Serverus, death of, 316c. 
 
 dying words of, 429a. 
 Sewall, Judge, and the shoe-brushes, 282d. 
 Shakers and the Indians, 291 A. 
 Shephard and preparation to preach, 258^. 
 Short, Luke, the centennarian convert, 224a. 
 Sidney, Sir P., and the soldier, 44c. 
 Sigismund and his enemies, 160c. 
 Simplicity of language, 259. 
 Simpson, Dr., venturing on Christ, 172(Z. 
 Sin, 405. 
 
 Sin against the Holy Ghost, 406. 
 Siva and her temple, 281c. 
 Skelton, Rev. P., and his books, 39i. 
 Skill and prudence with the impenitent, 108. 
 Slander, 407. 
 
 Slavery — slaves, 9m, lid, e, 14/, 49a, 101c, 
 I56d, I58h, 16 la, b, 176c, 182c, 3l8d— 
 /, 3326, 339h. 
 Slavery of appetite, 2, 230, 2466, 4l2d, e, g. 
 Smuggling, 98a. 
 Smollet and the beggar, 198/. 
 Socrates, reply of, to Alcibiades, 126. 
 
 to Archelaus, 228g-. 
 
 rebuke of, to Alcibiades, 337/. 
 
 and Chericles, 239a. 
 
 self-control of, 401/ 
 Soldiers, anecdotes of, 62, 6Sd, 13d, 327;, 364a, 
 
 393i, 434. 
 Sons, affectionate, 8a — e, h. 
 
 unnatural, l6o, c. 
 Soul, value of, 408, 29c, Z, 326, 278a, 352/ 
 South Sea Islands, former state of, 2706, 2726, 
 c, 273a, 2746. 
 
 improved state of, 277/ 
 Southey, Robert, and the black boy, 156c. 
 Spider, Du Moulin and the, 343a. 
 Spencer, Rev. Mr., beneficence of, 47*, t. 
 Spira, death-bed of, 26d. 
 Spring, Dr., welcome visit of, 262a. 
 Staughton's eloquence, 153c. 
 Staupicius, confession of, 172e. 
 Stephen, King, and toleration, 4136. 
 Stennett and his enemies, 314c. 
 Stilling, incidents in the life of, 353c. 
 Story, the honest rebel, 4306. 
 Straiton's prayer answered, 130a. 
 Struense, confession of, 2l2c. 
 Students, 175/ 2l0d, 333m, 348e. 
 Stuart, Dr., and the Southron, 243/ 
 Sturtevant, Lydia, death of, 127c. 
 Submission to God's will, 409. 
 
 praying with, 320. 
 
 want of, 325, 410. 
 Success in the ministry, 263. 
 Suicide of an actor, 6rf. 
 
 of an apostate, 26c. 
 
 and remorse, 876. 
 
 and gambling, I82rf, e,f. 
 
 manuscript of a, 2176. 
 
 of a drunkard's child, 233c. 
 
 of a libertine, 246c. 
 
 among the Hindoos, 271a. 
 •and Univei-salism, 424e,/, i, k. 
 
 prevented, 46p, 1876, e. 345d, 350h, 415. 
 Swartz, Rev. C. F., at Tanjore, 277<Z. 
 Swearers' prayers answered, 208. 
 877 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Swift, Dean, and the apologist, 25a. 
 
 and the printer, 1465^. 
 Swinging on hooks, 2716. 
 
 Tacitus and idolatry, 268c. 
 
 and theatres, 411 A. 
 Tahitians, ancient, 2766. 
 Taggart, J., oath of, 3146. 
 Tedyuscung and the golden rule, 3776. 
 
 his censure of white men, 132A:. 
 Temperance, 1-5, 335. 
 Temples, heathen, overthrown, 2816, c. 
 Tennent, Wm , happiness of, 1926. 
 
 and his harvest-day, 264d. 
 
 and the dumb sermon, 352d. 
 Tenterden's retort, 196. 
 Tetzel at Leipsic, 3016. 
 Thanks at meals, 329. 
 Thanksgiving-day, origin of, 18Sd. 
 Thatcher, Judge, and the challenge, 149^. 
 Theatres, 411. 
 
 Theft— thieves, 278e, 2796, 357a, 6. 
 Themistocles, project of, 2396. 
 
 advice of, 253g. 
 Theodosius, character of, 1176. 
 Thornton and the poor clergyman, 42a. 
 Thorpe, Rev. W., and his mother, 192e. 
 Thorp, Mrs., and the Sabbath, 38ld. 
 Tiger and crocodile, 343/. 
 Tigranes conquered, 337c. 
 Tiberius II and his treasure, 47a. 
 Tide, delay of the, 331m. 
 Timoleon and his brother, lOa. 
 Tindal and his Bible, 53i. 
 Tillotson and his father, 8g. 
 Titus in Rome — in Judea, 117e. 
 Tobacco, 412. 
 
 Todd, Rev. J., conversion of, 263^*. 
 Todd, L. C, and Universalism, 424d. 
 Toleration, 413. 
 
 Toumay becoming idiotic, 337 h. 
 Tracts, religious — happy effects of: 
 
 morality promoted, 414. 
 
 suicide prevented, 415. 
 
 conversion of heathen, 416. 
 
 conversion of infidels, 417, 
 
 converts distinguished for usefulness, 418. 
 
 converts becoming ministers, 419. 
 
 revivals and numerous conversions, 420. 
 Traffic in ardent spirits, injurious to customers, 
 &c , 421. 
 
 injurious to traffickers, &c., 422. 
 
 immoral, &.C., 423. 
 Trajan, inconsistencies of, 117a. 
 Transubstantiation, 306. 
 Trials of Christians, 13, 14, 50, 190-192, 315a, 
 342. 
 f ministers, 264, 
 Trust in God, 9o, 294, 353. 
 Truth, telling the, 430. 
 Trowt, Rev. Mr., trial of, 264/. 
 Tuahine's conversion, 278a. 
 Twiss, Dr., advice of, 2446. 
 
 Underhill and his persecutor, 250<2. 
 Unkindness, 16a, 6, c, 115-117, 139a. 
 Unbelief, causes of, 212, 213. 
 tlie way to remove, 214. 
 
 878 
 
 Unbelievers, Christians ma»rrying, 2536—/. 
 Unitarianism, 427, 81a, b, c, 335a, 419c. 
 Universalism, moral tendency of, 424, 4276, c,rf. 
 
 absurdity and folly of, 425. 
 
 death of Universalists, 426. 
 
 miscellaneous, 74?, 75/, 209 d, 360. 
 Uprightness, 98, 112, 173, 228, 239. 
 Usefulness, Christian, 428, 37—44, 71, 106— 
 110, 142, 151,224, 286, 317,418,420a, 
 U\d. 
 Usher, Archbishop, and the king, 260o. 
 
 and the 11th commandment, 261c. 
 
 Vagrants, 35. 
 
 Vandille, the miser, 267c. 
 
 Vanity of ambition, 18. 
 
 and beauty, 174a. 
 
 of worldly honors, 199. 
 
 of riches, 374, 
 
 of the worid, 429. 
 Venn, Rev. Mr., and the waiter, 74a. 
 
 death of, 11 9o. 
 
 and the Socinian, 256n. 
 
 visit of, to Midwood, 374g^. 
 Ventadour, Duchess of, her benevolence, 38«. 
 Veracity, 430, 1396. 
 Vince, Professor, and dueling, 149a. 
 Vincent in the plague, 341a. 
 Virtue embodied, \32l. 
 Vitellius, death of, ]20j. 
 Volney in a storm, 2216. 
 Voltaire a liar, 2l5d. 
 
 confession of, 2l6d. 
 
 melancholy views of, 219c. 
 
 last hours of, 222a. 
 
 press of, at Ferney, 223a. 
 
 prophecy of, 2236. 
 
 Waddel, Dr., " The Blind Preacher," 153m. 
 Waldenses and the wheat, 341c. 
 
 and .Toachim, 342a. 
 Waldo, Peter, becoming a preacher, 352^. 
 Walker, Dr., humanity of, 3 1 7a. 
 Walker, Rev. S., and the rector, 260m. 
 Wall, Dr., injuries of, 175a, 
 Walworth, Chancelor, a Sabbath school teacher, 
 
 399/ 
 War— battles and battle-fields, 431. 
 
 sieges, 432. 
 
 military hospitals, 433. 
 
 punishment of soldiers, 434. 
 
 punishment of marines, 435. 
 
 war and the domestic ties, 436. 
 
 testimonies against war, 437. 
 
 miscellaneous, 438, 277a, c, 291/— m, 
 2946, c, d. g 
 
 Washington and the tetotaller, 4a. 
 
 filial love of, 9p. 
 
 and his debtor, 436. 
 
 confession of, to Mr. Payne, 896. 
 
 and his friends, 31 2d. 
 
 and profanity, 339^. 
 
 narrow escape of, 345c. 
 
 punctuality of, 355/ 
 
 and the Sabbath, 3826. 
 
 and the Revolution, 436/ 
 Washington, Judge, a Sabbath school teacher, 
 399a. 
 
TOPICAL INDEX. 
 
 Watchfulness, need of, 252A. 
 Watts, Dr., at death, 118;. 
 
 and the promises, 172^. 
 
 and the long visit, 179c. 
 Waugh, Dr., reproofs from, 370m. 
 
 and slanderers, 407c?. 
 Wesley, Rev. J., and the preacher, 3/. 
 
 and his plate, 39k. 
 
 and his likeness, 43o. 
 
 his way to preserve churches, 101c. 
 
 dying words of, 1196. 
 
 and his sister's retort, 132^*. 
 
 and the robber, 186c. 
 
 Whitefield's opinion of, 247g'. 
 
 labors of, 258m. 
 
 simplicity of, 259c. 
 
 and his missionary zeal, 286z. 
 
 esc.ipe of, from fire, 341 Zt. 
 
 and the scoffer, 350c. 
 
 and Madan, 350d. 
 
 and the officer, 380e. 
 
 happy reproof from, 370o. 
 Wealth, vanity of, 29c, n2a,d,g, I20g,hj. 
 Welles, Rev. S., confidence of, in God, 353g^. 
 West and Lyttleton converted, 214c. 
 Wharton, character of, 215d. 
 Whately, tithing and thriving, 47c. 
 Whitefield, Rev. G., and the churl, 47Z. 
 
 death of, 122h. 
 
 rejecting an estate, 142c. 
 
 eloquence of, 1536, g--Z. 
 
 brother of, 187c. 
 
 and the village cursed, 225a. 
 
 and Wesley, 247g-. 
 
 and Rev. W. Tennent, 258<?. 
 
 and his sermons, 258/?. 
 
 and his voyage, 258o. 
 
 and Grimshawe, 260c. 
 
 and pointed preaching, 260d. 
 
 and the execution, 261rf. 
 
 and elections^ 26lg'. 
 
 and the opposer, 261p. 
 
 praying for his brother, 3236. 
 
 persecutors of, 3496. 
 
 persecuted at Plymouth, 349c. 
 
 and the trumpeter, 349c. 
 
 and the fiddler, 349/. 
 
 and the scoffer, 350c. 
 
 WickUffe's moral courage, 112/. 
 
 Wilberforce, conversion of, 63c. 
 and the Sabbath, 380a. 
 
 Will of God, submission to, 409. 
 
 William the Conqueror going to judgment, 438^^. 
 
 Williams, Admiral, and the will, 245c. 
 
 Williams, Rev. Mr., and his translation, 53m. 
 
 Wilkes, Rev. Matthew, and the American min- 
 ister, 258c. 
 and his colleague, 28/ 
 
 Wilmot, Sir E., humility of, 204g-. 
 
 Wilson, Dr., and the clergyman, 42c. 
 and the Sabbath, 3806. 
 
 Wilson, Rev. W., and the soldier, 133c. 
 
 Wilson, Margaret, the martyr, 172ji. 
 
 Wirt, William, reformed, 235c. 
 
 Wishart and the forgery, 344g. 
 and the psalm, 345k. 
 
 Wit and ingenuity, 2c, 196, c,/, 25a, ASd, 546, 
 76b,d,e,8lb,c,83j,ll8h, 124, I32j,l, 
 Uld, 2041, 211 c, 261, 299/, 3386- d, 
 339g, 370, 3866, c, 400, 401d,f. 
 
 Wives, affectionate, 76, d, e,g,h, 2416, d, c, 2546. 
 
 Wolf, Rev. J., and the Rechabites, 46. 
 
 Wolsey, dying regrets of, \2\d. 
 
 Works, salvation by, 256. 
 
 World, vanity of, \2Qg,h,j, \2\d, 319, 3746, 
 429. 
 
 Worship, public, 388, 439. 
 family, 330. 
 
 Wotton, experience of, 1996. 
 
 Wrath of man praising God, 349, 350, 440. 
 
 Wren and his workmen, 339 A;. 
 
 Wright, Dr., practice of, 40rf. 
 
 Wright, H. C, and his assailant, 2926. 
 
 Xantippe and Socrates, 401/ 
 Xavier, example of, 2\d. 
 Xerxes and the Hellespont, 381a, 
 
 crowning and beheading his footmen, 429<2. 
 Ximenes and Adrian, 407c. 
 
 Young. Dr., dying words of, 54<f. 
 Young, Rev. R., and the planter, 278Z. 
 
 Zeal in doing good, 71, 258, 286, 441. 
 Zinzendorf, escape of, 285d, 
 879 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 In this Index, the correspondence between texts and anecdotes, though mostly obvions and direct, is not uniformly 
 so. Sometimes only a single clause of the text is illustrated by the anecdote ; and sometimes the text refers only to a 
 single paragraph or sentiment of the anecdote and what is merely incidental to the principal subject. Sometimes 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 sometimes 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. 
 
 
 GENESIS. 
 
 
 EXODUS. 
 
 LEVITICUS.— Continued. 
 
 Ch.v. 
 
 Jinecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Jinecdotes. 
 
 1. 14 
 
 24 
 
 3. n 
 
 86b 
 
 19. 12 
 
 73. 338-340 
 
 2. 1-3 
 
 378-385 
 
 3.21 
 
 346 
 
 19. 13 
 
 376 
 
 2. 18 
 
 253a 
 
 5. 2 
 
 54e, 215 
 
 19. 14 
 
 283 
 
 2. 24 
 
 7c, f 
 
 9. 16 
 
 53i 
 
 19. 16 
 
 407d, e, k 
 
 3. 6, 17 
 
 405e 
 
 9. 27 
 
 95-97, 276d, 365 
 
 19. 17 
 
 la, 112k, 339, 352k, 
 
 3. 16 
 
 7b, g 
 
 15. 11 
 
 119n 
 
 
 368-371, 386 
 
 4. 5 
 
 20. 163 
 
 17. 4 
 
 226 
 
 19. .30 
 
 317h, 378-385 
 
 4. 7,8 
 
 288 
 
 18. 11 
 
 53i 
 
 19. 32 
 
 16 
 
 5. 5, etc. 
 
 195c 
 
 18. 16 
 
 134c, 239 
 
 24. 10-16 
 
 340 
 
 5. 24 
 
 50c 
 
 20. 1-17 
 
 54a 
 
 25. 35 
 
 44b 
 
 6. 3 
 
 32b, 33b, 121c, e, f, 196 
 
 20. 3-5 
 
 269,300 
 
 26. 1 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 6. 11 
 
 431-437 
 
 20. 3-J7 
 
 211 
 
 26. 17, 36 
 
 94 
 
 8. 22 
 
 24 
 
 20. 4-13 
 
 132i 
 
 
 
 12. 8 
 
 328 
 
 20.7 
 
 73, 326g, 338-340 
 
 
 NUMBERS. 
 
 14. 20 
 
 40 
 
 20. 8 
 
 278 1, 279d 
 
 
 
 15. 6 
 
 240 
 
 20. 8-11 
 
 378-335 
 
 11. 1 
 
 178 
 
 16. 13 
 
 77 
 
 20. 9 
 
 206d, 210, 243 
 
 11. 2 
 
 331 
 
 17. 7 
 
 224b 
 
 20. 10 
 
 378 
 
 11. 28, 29 
 
 163 
 
 18. 19 
 
 224b, 229e 
 
 20. 12 
 
 8g, 9d-h, 16a. c, 143 
 
 12. 2 
 
 163 
 
 18. 27 
 
 8fib, 204 
 
 20. 13 
 
 6a-d, 147, 288, 421-423 
 
 14. 18 
 
 187 
 
 18. 32 
 
 331 
 
 20. 14 
 
 72d 
 
 16. 15 
 
 228,239 
 
 19. 24, 25 
 
 359 
 
 20. 15 
 
 59b, 278e, 279b 
 
 16. 32, 33 
 
 359 
 
 20. 5,6 
 
 228 
 
 20. 16 
 
 2,52 314 
 
 23. 10 
 
 119, 250c. 280 
 
 25. 28 
 
 11 
 
 20. 17 
 
 29a, 122f, 132a, 145c 
 
 32. 23 
 
 288 
 
 26. 14 
 
 163 
 
 20. 23 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 
 
 29. 18, 20 
 
 7c 
 
 22. 5 
 
 373 
 
 DEUTERONOMY. 
 
 30. 1 
 
 163 
 
 22. 20 
 
 207, 269. 300 
 
 
 
 31. 1 
 
 163 
 
 23. 4, 5 
 
 154c, 156 
 
 1. 16 
 
 134c, 239 
 
 31. 6, 7 
 
 226 
 
 23. 8 
 
 228b, d, g, 2.39c, 244i 
 
 4. .30, 31 
 
 13d, 187 
 
 32. 10 
 
 86b, 204 
 
 23. 24 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 4. 35, 39 
 
 185a 
 
 32. 24-26 
 
 152c, 322, 399c 
 
 32. 1-6 
 
 26 
 
 5. 7 
 
 207, 300 
 
 :«. 2.^ 
 
 331 
 
 32. 6 
 
 30-32 
 
 .5. 11 
 
 73 
 
 37. 3 
 
 12 
 
 32. 11 
 
 331 
 
 5. 14 
 
 378-385 
 
 37. 11 
 
 163 
 
 32. 32 
 
 312 
 
 5. 17 
 
 288 
 
 39. 9 
 
 2871 
 
 34. 6 
 
 133a 
 
 5. 20 
 
 314 
 
 39. 21 
 
 346 
 
 34.6,7 
 
 186, 187 
 
 6. 4 
 
 185a 
 
 40. 23 
 
 226 
 
 34.7 
 
 256 
 
 6. 5 
 
 100 
 
 42. 21 
 
 95-97, 276d, 288a, i. o, 
 
 34. 17 
 
 207 QfiQ aOft 
 
 6. 6-9 
 
 3a.]39d,197j,224b.287, 
 
 
 r, 373 
 
 35. 21,22,291234.0 ' 
 
 
 351a, 387-399, 438c 
 
 43. 26, 2S 
 
 113 
 
 
 
 6. 18 
 
 377 
 
 43. 29, 30 
 
 44. 16 
 
 10 
 
 288 
 
 
 LEVITICUS. 
 
 7. 3,4 
 
 8. 19 
 
 253b-f 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 45. 3-5 
 
 10 
 
 5. 5 
 
 90-93 
 
 10. 12 
 
 100 
 
 46. 29 
 
 8 
 
 10. 1,2 
 
 359 
 
 11. 13 
 
 100 
 
 47. 12 
 
 8 
 
 19. 3 
 
 143 
 
 11. 18 
 
 fi8,69 
 
 49. 5 
 
 298, 303 
 
 19. 4 
 
 269,300 
 
 11. 18-21 
 
 56b, 72e, 139d, 197f, 
 
 49. 5, 6, 7 
 
 115, 117, 431-437 
 
 J 9. 11 
 
 141, 252 
 
 
 224b, 287, 299, 351*, 
 
 49. lb ' 
 
 237a 
 
 19. 11, 13 
 
 180-182 
 
 
 387-399, 438c 
 
 
 55 
 
 
 
 881 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 DEUTERONOMY.-Continued. 
 
 2 SAMUEL.-ConUnued. 
 
 
 ESTHER. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 ./Jnecdotes. 
 
 Ch.v. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 CA. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 12. 6 
 
 40 
 
 7. 22 
 
 laia 
 
 3.5,6 
 
 20, 337 
 
 13. 1-3 
 
 305 
 
 8. 15 
 
 228, 239, 244a 
 
 5. 13 
 
 20, 337 
 
 ]3. 3 
 
 100 
 
 9. 6,7 
 
 189 
 
 7. 9 
 
 18b, c, f 
 
 15. 10, 11 
 
 44d, h, j 
 
 12. 7 
 
 260 
 
 
 
 15. 11 
 
 lOa-c 
 
 12. 7-9 
 
 26 
 
 
 JOB. 
 
 16. 10 
 
 40 
 
 12. 23 
 
 80c 
 
 1. 6, 7 425f 
 
 1. 9 44b 
 
 1. 18,19,21 13h, 50a, c 
 
 1. 21 13d, h, jn, 14a, b, c, f, 
 
 16. 19 
 
 228b, d, g, 23f)c, 244i 
 
 15. 6 
 
 226 
 
 16. 20 
 
 17. 19 
 
 18. 10, 11 
 
 377 
 
 55, 68, 69 
 
 177 
 
 16. 10, 11 
 18.33 
 19. 4 
 
 154, 156, 158, 162 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 19. 16-21 
 
 314 
 
 19. 32, 33 
 
 46, 189 
 
 1.22 
 2.4 
 5. 2 
 5. 14 
 
 5. 17, 18 
 
 6. 14 
 
 7. 16 
 7.20 
 
 8. 6 
 
 8. 13, 15 
 8. 22 
 
 311 
 
 I20g,h,j, 121d,g 
 
 148b 
 
 212 
 
 13, 14a, d, e, f, g, 50, 
 
 51a, c, 80c, 170f 
 16b 
 194 1 
 341-345 
 198 
 .367 
 4d 
 
 26. 7 
 26. 16 
 
 331 
 100 
 
 19. 34, 37 
 
 22. 3 
 
 103d, e, f 
 131c 
 
 27. 15 
 
 269, 300 
 
 22. 26 
 
 203 
 
 27. 16 16a, c, 143 
 
 28. 14 207, 269, 300 
 28. 37,48-52, 
 
 22. 28 
 
 23. 3 
 23. 17 
 
 18b, c, f 
 228, 239, 244i 
 .36 
 
 C2-66 237b, c, g 
 
 28. 64, 65 54 1 
 
 29. 29 56b, 72e, 299, 387-399 
 
 30. 6 100 
 
 30. 17, 18 207. 269. 300 
 
 2. 4 
 
 2. 7 
 
 1 KINGS. 
 
 100 
 189 
 
 30. 20 
 
 100 
 
 3. 26 
 
 11 
 
 31. 12, 13 
 
 86n 
 
 8. 23 
 
 100 
 
 ^•2.3.3u, 
 
 32. 4, 15, 31 llOg, 172c 
 32. 18 131d, e, g 
 32. 29 30h f 
 
 8. 27-29 
 
 8. 27, 30 
 
 9. 6,7 
 
 197 
 
 194a 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 31 
 9.23 
 10. 12 
 
 341-345 
 
 32.31 
 
 216-220 
 
 11. 4,5 
 
 26 
 
 11. 20 
 
 12. 4 
 
 12. 7 
 12.25 
 
 13. 15 
 
 32b, c, 367 
 
 375 
 
 5, 231a, 235c 
 
 212 
 
 169c 
 
 32. 39 
 32. 46 
 
 185a 
 
 139d, 197j, 224b, 287, 
 351a, 387-399 
 
 16. 3 
 
 18. 17, 18 
 18. 21 
 18. 28 
 
 229e 
 260 
 
 32c, d, e 
 271 
 
 
 JOSHUA. 
 
 2L 20 
 
 260 
 
 13. 16 
 
 14. 14 
 
 205 
 118 
 
 1. 8 
 
 7. 19 
 
 08,69 
 90-93 
 
 
 2 KINGS. 
 
 15. 4 
 15. 6 
 
 30 
 
 216, 217, 220, 412h 
 
 24. 14, 15 
 
 32c, d, e 
 
 4. 26 
 
 80b 
 
 15. 14 
 
 256 
 
 24. 15 
 
 328 
 
 5. 2,3 
 
 79, 106b 
 
 15. 34 
 
 228b, d-g, 239c, 244i 
 
 
 
 5. 4 
 
 134a 
 
 18. 11 
 
 222 
 
 
 JUDGES. 
 
 6. 22,23 
 
 7. 4 
 
 154a, 156, 184a 
 170e 
 
 19. 14-16 
 19. 25 
 
 226 
 200 
 
 5. 23 
 
 225a 
 
 8. 12, 13 
 
 318 
 
 20. 5 
 
 205 
 
 6. 15 
 
 19b, 86b 
 
 15. 28 
 
 225 
 
 20. 15 
 
 29a 
 
 10. J3, 14 
 
 207, 2(:9, 300 
 
 16. 3 
 
 270 
 
 21. 11-15 
 
 30-32 
 
 
 
 17. 15 
 
 70 
 
 21. 14 
 
 196 
 
 
 RUTH. 
 
 17. 17 
 
 177 
 
 21. 17,18,29, 
 
 
 
 19. 15 
 
 185a 
 
 30 
 
 4d 
 
 1. 6 
 
 .341 
 
 20. 5-11 
 
 331 
 
 21. 19 
 
 138 
 
 1. 8 
 
 ^•*^'S 
 
 23. 3 
 
 100 
 
 22. 17 
 
 196 
 
 1. 15 
 
 26 
 
 
 
 22. 21 
 
 61e 
 
 I- 1^ ^l 
 
 247 
 
 1 CHRONICLES. 
 
 22. 29 
 
 204 
 
 S. 11, 12 
 
 46, 47, 353 
 
 
 
 23. 10 
 
 13, 14a, d, e, f, g, 80c, 
 
 2. 14-17 
 
 38 
 
 5. 20 
 
 131a, b, c, 353 
 
 
 84a ^' 
 
 
 
 11. 19 
 
 36 
 
 26. 6 
 
 132b, 297a, b 
 
 
 1 SAMUEL. 
 
 17. 16 
 
 19b, c, d 
 
 27. 19, 20 
 
 29c 
 
 1. 6 
 1. 24 
 
 1. 27 
 
 2. 25 
 
 3. 13 
 3. 18 
 
 178 
 
 86c 
 
 1.36 
 
 73c, e, j, m 
 
 229e ■ 
 
 52, 409 
 
 28. 9 
 
 121d 
 
 27. 19-22 
 
 120, 121, 222 
 
 29. 14 
 
 86b 
 
 27. 20 
 
 .32f 
 
 29. 15 18a 
 
 2 CHRONICLES. 
 7. 14 373. 423f 
 
 29. 11-13 
 29. 12 
 29. 16 
 
 31. 4 
 
 32. 21 
 36. 8-10 
 36. 18, 19 
 40. 4 
 
 46 
 
 38a, b, d, i 
 
 9h 
 
 132b, 297a, b 
 
 174 
 
 13, 14a, d, e, f, g, 51 
 
 120g, h, j 
 
 86b 
 
 7. 12 
 
 8. 3 
 
 8. 11-18 
 
 26i, 131a 
 
 228b, d-g, 239c, 244i 
 
 318 ^ 
 
 13. 18 
 1.5. 2 
 16. 9 
 
 131a, b, c 
 
 121d 
 
 132b 
 
 8. 21, 22 
 
 325 
 
 19. 2 
 
 132d, h, j, 1, m 
 
 12.3 
 
 228b, d-g, 239c, 373 
 
 20. 21 
 
 1191 
 
 
 PSALMS 
 
 12. 4 
 
 228,239 
 
 22. 9 
 
 100 
 
 
 *. k7Xl.XJlrXK7« 
 
 12. 18 
 
 331 
 
 28. 9 
 
 26a, d, h 
 
 1. 1 
 
 87a, d 
 
 12. 20, 24 
 
 100 
 
 30. 10 
 
 375 
 
 1. 2 
 
 68,69 
 
 15.6 
 
 46. 189 
 
 33. 12, 13 
 
 13, 51, 80c 
 
 I. 4,6 
 
 141 
 
 15. 11 
 
 26 
 
 34. 31 
 
 100 
 
 2. 3 
 
 215 
 
 16.7 
 
 297 
 
 36. 16 
 
 73 
 
 2. 6 
 
 277i 
 
 18. 8 
 
 163 
 
 
 
 2. 12 
 
 26i, 53n, 120a, 200b, c 
 
 20. 3 
 
 120,128 
 
 
 EZRA. 
 
 4. 5 
 
 53n. 294, 353 
 
 23. 5, 12 
 
 226 
 
 2. 68, 69 
 
 8. 22 
 
 123a, c 
 
 13g, 26a, d, h, 121,331. 
 
 5. 6 
 
 208a. c, 252b, f, g, i 
 
 24. 10 
 24. 17 
 
 154, 156, 158, 162 
 226 
 
 5. 9 
 5. 11 
 
 180-182 
 107f 
 
 25. &-11, 21 226 1 
 
 
 5. 12 
 
 204g, 379-381 
 
 26.21 
 
 155, 156a, c. g, 157g, 
 158h, i. 159. 
 
 NEHEMIAH. | 
 
 7. 1 
 7. 11 
 
 9j, ."iSn, 294, 353 
 
 73, 116, 120a. 141, 143, 
 
 
 
 2. 10 
 
 163 
 
 
 314, 340, 383, 384 
 
 
 2 SAMUEL. 
 
 2. 19, 20 
 
 375 
 
 8.2 
 
 10r>b,93.'ia, 388, 391-394 
 
 
 
 7. 70-72 
 
 123a, c 
 
 
 396, 397 
 
 1. 16 
 
 216, 217, 219, 220 
 
 9. 6 
 
 185a 
 
 9. 11 
 
 86e 
 
 1. 20 
 
 179 
 
 9. 30 
 
 54, 55a, s, 60a, c, f, i 
 
 9. 12 
 
 247g 
 
 2. 5,6 
 
 189 
 
 13. 5 
 
 40 
 
 10. 3 
 
 29a 
 
 2. 26 
 
 32b, c, f 
 
 13. 11.17,18386 1 
 
 10. 4.11,13215 
 
 6.20 
 
 328 
 
 13. 15-21 
 
 378-385 i 
 
 10. 13 
 
 424 
 
 882 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 PSALMS;— Continued. 
 
 CJi. V. .Anecdotes. 
 
 10. 17 204, 247g 
 
 12. 3, 4 337c, h, i 
 
 14. 1 54e, 167a, 215 
 
 14. 5 94,221 
 
 14. 6 131c 
 
 16. 6 103d, e, f 
 
 16. 11 192a, b, 194g-l 
 
 17. 7 53n, 294, 353 
 17. 14 29 1 
 
 17. 15 118, 119c 
 
 18. 6 331, 332, 423f 
 18. 16 50a 
 
 18. 25 203 
 
 18. 27 18b, c, f, 337c, h, i 
 
 19. ]-3 24 
 
 19.7 54h,i,j, 56, 61-65, 362 
 
 19. 8 ]4g, 72a 
 
 19. 10 66, 67 
 
 22. 4, 5 131a, b, c 
 
 22. 18 180-182 
 
 22. 22 193c 
 
 22. 24 13g, h 
 
 23. 4 118, 119, 200e, 280 
 25. 2 131a, b, 294, 353 
 25. 6 l86, 187 
 
 25. 7 125 
 
 25. 9 254 
 
 25. 13 229e 
 
 26. 8 193c, 279g, 439 
 
 26. 10 228b, d-g, 239c, 241i 
 
 27. 3 190, 194j. k 
 27. 4 193c, 279g. 439 
 27. 5 170g, 172c 
 
 27. 10 333n 
 
 27. 12 314 
 
 28. 1 ]70g, 172c 
 28. 8 122j 
 
 31. 1 131a, b, c, 294, 353 
 
 31. 2, 3 170g, 172c 
 
 31. 5 118e, 119, 250c 
 
 31. 7 13g, h, 190, 191, ]92c-m, 
 
 194j, k 
 
 31. 17, 18 4d 
 
 31. 19 26i 
 
 31. 19, 20 294, 353 
 
 32. 5 90 
 
 32. 10 53n, 294, 353 
 
 32. 11 107f, 192 
 
 33. 1 107f, 192 
 
 34. 1 13, 14 
 34. 4, 15, 17 50a 
 34. 4, 17, 19 145a 
 34. 4, 6, 10, 
 
 15, 17 331, 332, 412d 
 
 34. 13, 14 252 
 
 34, 14 313 
 
 34. 16, 21 141 
 
 34. 18 133b 
 
 34. 21 4d, 132d, h, m 
 ,34. 22 9j, 53n, 294, 353 
 3.5. 11 314 
 
 35. 13, 14 154, 1.58, 162 
 
 35. 18 86e, 188, 192d, 193c 
 3(5. 2 18g 
 
 36. 4 180-182 
 
 .36. 5, 6 341-345, 353 
 
 37. I IBd, e 
 37. 1, 7, 8 178, 31 1 
 
 37. 3 9j, 53n, 47 294, 346, 
 353, 379-381, 428, 441 
 
 37. 4 107f 
 
 37. 7 321 
 37. 10,12-15, 
 
 34 4d 
 
 37. 8 20 
 
 37. 12-16 316 
 
 .37. 16 103d, e, f, 374b, e, d, f 
 
 37. 18 198 
 
 37. 24 }33b 
 
 37. 25 46 
 37, 25,26,28 229e 
 
 37. 26 224b, 135-137 
 
 37. 35, 36 319 
 
 37. 37 1 18e, 119,133b. 250c, 280 
 
 38. 4, 18 366 
 
 39. 1 87f 
 
 39. 5, 6 319, 429 
 
 39. 8 4d 
 
 PSA LMS.— Continued. 
 Ch. V. Jlnecdotes. 
 
 39. 9 409 
 
 39. 11 34b 
 
 40. 1 321 
 
 40. 2 18g, 170g, 172c 
 40. 4 53n. 294, 353 
 
 40. 16 107f 
 
 41. 2 45 
 
 42. 5 13b, 1, 200 
 42. 5, 11 133b 
 
 42. 5, 6, 11, 14.5b 
 
 42. 9 170g, 172c 
 
 43. 3 71, 72b 
 
 43. 4 192a, b, 194j-I 
 
 43. 5 13b, 133b 
 
 44. 21 297 
 
 45. 3, 6 81 
 
 45. 6 164a 
 
 46. 1 131c 
 46. 1-3,7,10, 
 
 11 190, 191, 192c-m, 194j, k 
 
 48. 14 164a 
 
 49. 6-8 29e, 256b, 301, 302 
 49. 10 29e 
 
 49. 10,12 1418a 
 
 49. 12 ]94e 
 
 49. 14 34b 
 
 50. 13, 14 100 
 
 50. 14 188, 192d 
 
 50. 15 50a, 198c, 330a, b, 331. 
 
 412d 
 
 50. 17 212, 213 
 
 50. 21 276a 
 
 51. 1 204m 
 
 51. 3 90-93, 373 
 
 51. 3, 14 147a 
 
 51. 10 162a 
 
 51. 12 192a, b, 194g-I 
 
 53. 1 167a, 213 
 
 53. 5 87e,94 
 
 55. 22 50b 
 
 55. 23 208a, c, 252 b, f, g, i 
 
 57. 1 131c 
 
 58. 4 31 
 .58. 4, 5 212 
 
 58. 11 45,379-381,383,384 
 
 59. 7 215 
 
 59! 12 73,14l,208a,c,253b,f.g,i 
 
 59. 16 131c 
 
 62. 2, 6, 7 170g, 172c 
 
 62. 8 294, 353 
 
 62. 9 319 
 
 62. 10 374a 
 
 65. 2 330a, b, 331-334 
 
 65. 4 84a, 279g 
 
 66. 9 341-345 
 66. 16 167a 
 
 66. 19, 20 50a, 330a, b, 334, 412d 
 
 68. 3 107f 
 
 69. 12 4a 
 
 69. 30 188, ]92d 
 
 71. 1 ]31a 
 
 71. 3 170g, 172c 
 
 71. 7 131c 
 
 73. 9-11 215 
 
 73. 24 250c 
 
 73. 25 248b, 3741 
 
 74. 10, 11 73 
 
 74. 20 83b. 115, 116, 268, 270- 
 
 275, 431-437 
 
 76. 7 120a 
 
 76. 8. 9 254 
 
 76. 10 84b, d, e, f, 53i, 237d, e, 
 
 349, 440 
 
 77. 19 13 
 
 78. 34 80c 
 
 78. 34, 35 13c, d, 348 
 
 78. 35 200b, c 
 
 78. 37 32d, e 
 
 78. 58 207, 269, 300 
 
 78. 71 19b, c, d 
 
 78. 72 228, 2.39, 244i 
 
 79. 4 375 
 79. 8 125 
 82. 5 212 
 
 84. 1,2, 10 84a, 86e, 279g. 379-381 
 
 86. 5 15a, b, 187, 412d 
 
 86. 15 355 
 
 86. 26 170g, 172c 
 
 PSALMS.— Continued. 
 Ch. V. Anecdotes. 
 
 89. 29 229e 
 
 90. 2 ]H5b 
 9U. 12 118 
 
 91. 1 53n 
 
 91. 1-10 2901,294,353 
 91. 2, 9 131c 
 
 91. 15 50a, 331, 332, 412d 
 
 92. 12 379-331 
 
 93. 2 185b 
 
 94. 5-7 215 
 94. 8 17a 
 94. 9 297 
 
 94! 12 13, 6Gf, g, 80c. 170f 
 
 94. 22 131c, 170g, 172c 
 
 95. 1 170g, 172c 
 95. 2 188, 192d 
 95. 8 126 
 
 98. 1 80e,281b-e 
 100. 3 185d, e 
 100. 4 80e 
 100. 4, 5 188, 192d 
 
 100. 5 186, 187 
 
 101. 5 18f, 407d, e, k 
 
 102. 27 185b 
 
 102. 28 ^4b 
 
 103. 8 15 
 103. 8-10 187 
 
 103. 15, 16 18a, 122a, b 
 
 103. 17 229e 
 
 103. 17, 18 135-137, 224ij 
 
 106. 3-5 187c 
 
 106. 15 .325, 410 
 
 106. 23 .331 
 
 106. 37, 38 270 
 
 107. 8, 21, 31 IRH, 192d 
 107. 32 86e, 193c 
 109. 5 226 
 
 111. 1 289a, b, c, j 
 
 112. 2, 4 198 
 112. 4 37&-381 
 112. 7, 8 9j 
 
 115. 4-8 207, 269, 28 lb. c, 300 
 
 115. 9-11 294, 353 
 
 116. 1 188. 192d 
 116. 17 188, 192d 
 
 118. 5 50a. 331, 332, 412d 
 
 118. 8 294. 353 
 
 119. 1, 2 ]4g 
 119. 2, 10, 34 100 
 119. 9 54g, h 
 119. 62 327 
 
 119. 67,71,7513,14,51,80c 
 119. 67,71,97 66f.g 
 119. 68,69,145 100 
 
 119. 72 66, 67 
 
 119. 93 54h-k, 57-65 
 
 119. 97-113 55, 66, 67 
 
 119. 105 54f, 72d 
 119. 119,127 55,67,68. 69 
 
 119. 121 228. 239, 244i 
 
 119. 130 362 
 
 119. 136 250 
 119. 1,59, 163, 
 
 167 55, 67, 68, 69 
 
 119. 165 53n 
 
 122. 1 80c, 388a, b 
 
 122. 6-8 312 
 
 129. 5 132d, h, m 
 
 130. 3 256 
 130. 4 13f 
 
 133. 1, 2 10, 247 
 
 134. 4, 17, 19 14.5d 
 
 137. 1, 6 312 
 
 138. 6 204, 337c, h, i 
 
 138. 7 190, 192e-m, 194j, k 
 
 139. 1-12 77, 132b, 297 
 139. 14 185d, e 
 
 1.39. 19 87a, d 
 
 141. 10 4d 
 
 142. 4 2.50 
 
 142. 5 131c 
 
 143. 2 170d, 256 
 
 144. 4 18a 
 
 144. 14 178 
 
 145. 18, 19 .50a, 331-334, 412d 
 
 146. 3 26g 
 
 147. 5 297 
 147. 6 254 
 
 883 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 PSALMS.— Continued. 
 
 PROVERBS.— Continued 
 
 
 PROVERBS.— Continued. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Jinecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes, 
 
 147.7 
 
 289 
 
 13. 7 
 
 45, 46, 123b 
 
 
 23. 21 
 
 35 
 
 147. 11 
 
 261 
 
 13. 15 
 
 288,314. 37fia,b, 383,384 
 
 23. 21,29,30 230-234 
 
 148. 12, 13 
 
 79 
 
 13. 18 
 
 339, 352lv 
 
 
 23. 26 
 
 100, 403 
 
 149. 4 
 
 254 
 
 13. 20 
 
 51b, 87a-d 
 
 
 23. 31,32 
 
 26a, 230-234, 402a, c. 
 
 150. 1 
 
 86e, 193c, 431) 
 
 13. 24 
 
 138 
 
 
 
 421 
 
 
 
 14. 11 
 
 198 
 
 
 24. 1,2 
 
 87a -d 
 
 
 PROVERBS. 
 
 14. 12, 21 
 14. 13 
 
 21 
 
 6a, b. 411c, e, 1 
 
 
 24. 9 
 24. 16 
 
 132a 
 198 
 
 1. 3 
 
 228 
 
 14. 14 
 
 13g, h, 26 
 
 
 24. 17 
 
 154, 158, 162 
 
 1. 8 
 
 8, 9, 143 
 
 14. 15 
 
 laTb.c 
 
 
 24. 28 
 
 18f, 407d, e, k 
 
 1. 10, 15 
 
 2a, 32b, c, d, 87a-d, 
 
 14. 17 
 
 148b 
 
 
 24. 29 
 
 154, 158, 162, 166, 291- 
 
 
 127a, 197i. 2-29 
 
 14. 29 " 
 
 104e, g 
 
 
 
 294 
 
 1.22,29,30 212 
 
 14. 30 
 
 18f, 163 
 
 
 24. 30-34 
 
 35 
 
 1. 24-27 
 
 32a, b, c, d, 121c, e, f 
 
 14.32 
 
 32f, 1188,121,222, 
 
 237f, 
 
 2.5. 11, 12 
 
 144, 368-372, 386 
 
 1. 26,27 
 
 2a, 70, 222 
 
 
 250c, 426, 427e 
 
 
 25. 18 
 
 314 
 
 1. 31. 32 
 
 29c, 146c, 229-234, 422 
 
 15. 1 
 
 149, 155, 249f, 213 
 
 
 25. 21, 22 
 
 43c, d, 156d, g, 184a 
 
 2. 7 
 
 198 
 
 15. 3 
 
 13b, 77 
 
 
 25. 22 
 
 155. 156a, c, g, 157g, 
 
 2. 10-12 
 
 387 
 
 15. 3, 11 
 
 132b, 297 
 
 
 
 158a. c, g, 241, 242 
 
 3. 3 
 
 202 
 
 15. 6 
 
 374b, d, e, f 
 
 
 26.3 
 
 135, 136a, 137, 139c 
 
 3. 3, 4, 35 33a 
 
 15. 8, 29 
 
 50a 
 
 
 26. 4 
 
 261e, g, 1, 0, q 
 
 3. 5 
 
 294, 353, 362 
 
 15. 18 
 
 21 
 
 
 26. 12 
 
 337e 
 
 3.6 
 
 76b 
 
 15. 19 
 
 206a, b, c 
 
 
 26. 15 
 
 206a, b, c 
 
 3.9,10 
 
 47, 123b 
 
 15. 23 
 
 144, 368-372 
 
 
 26. 21 
 
 148b 
 
 3. 11, 12 
 
 13, 14a-f, 80c. 170f 
 
 15. 25 
 
 18a, b f, 337c, h, i 
 
 
 26. 28 
 
 174, 252 
 
 3. 13, 18 
 
 387 
 
 15. 31,32 
 
 .368, 369, 371 
 
 
 27 1 
 
 42, 84, 126, 127, 128 
 
 3. 16 
 
 89 
 
 15. 32 
 
 212, 339, 352k 
 
 
 27. 4 
 
 18f, 163 
 
 3. 32 
 
 33b 
 
 15. 33 
 
 86b, 204 
 
 
 27. 5, 6 
 
 368-372 
 
 3. 33 
 
 141, 198 
 
 16. 1, 9 
 
 346-350 
 
 
 27. 9, 10 
 
 179 
 
 3. 34 
 
 204,247g 
 
 16, 5, 18 
 
 2e, 18b, c, f, 146c, 
 
 337c, 
 
 27. 24 
 
 33, 374c-f 
 
 3. 34, 35 
 
 73 
 
 
 h,i 
 
 
 28. 1 
 
 87e 
 
 3. 35 
 
 la 
 
 16. 7 
 
 17a 
 
 
 28. 6 
 
 228b, e, g 
 
 4. 5-9 
 
 387 
 
 16. 9 
 
 13m 
 
 
 28. 7 
 
 87a-d 
 
 4. 13,20-22 68, 69, 83g 
 
 16. 19 
 
 86b, 204 
 
 
 28.9 
 
 33b, 127c, 138 
 
 4. 14, 15 
 
 2a, b, e, f, 229 
 
 10. 22 
 
 I52b 
 
 
 28. 10 
 
 198 
 
 4. 14-16 
 
 32c, d, 51b, 87a, d 
 
 16. 25 
 
 356 
 
 
 28. 13 
 
 90 
 
 4. 18 
 
 198 
 
 16. 28 
 
 407 
 
 
 28. 14 
 
 31 
 
 4. 19 
 
 2e 
 
 16. 32 
 
 21, 174, 401 
 
 
 28. 22 
 
 267 
 
 4. 23 
 
 31 
 
 16. 33 
 
 354a 
 
 
 28. 23 
 
 174, 339, 352k, 386 
 
 4.24 
 
 252 
 
 17. 3 
 
 297 
 
 
 28. 25 
 
 294, 353 
 
 5. 3-11, 21. 
 
 17. 13 
 
 SS6 
 
 
 29. 1 
 
 32a, b, c, 126, 127, 128 
 
 22 
 
 246c 
 
 17. 14 
 
 149, 361 
 
 
 29.4 
 
 239c, 244i 
 
 5. 21 
 
 132b, 297 
 
 17. 17 
 
 10a, c, 179 
 
 
 29. 15 
 
 138, 368-371 
 
 6. 1-5 
 
 33d 
 
 17. 18 
 
 33d 
 
 
 29. 17 
 
 135-137, 139c 
 
 6. 6-9 
 
 206, 210 
 
 17. 23 
 
 228b, d-g, 239c 
 
 
 29. 20 
 
 20 
 
 6. lft-19 
 
 18f, 141, 252b, f,g,i, 314 
 
 18. 10 
 
 26i, 294, 353 
 
 
 29. 23 
 
 18b, c. f, 86b, 204, 337c 
 
 6. 20 
 
 143, 296 
 
 18. 11 
 
 374h 
 
 
 
 h, i 
 
 6. 20, 22 
 
 9 
 
 18. 12 
 
 86b, c, f, 337c, h, i 
 
 
 29. 25 
 
 9j, 53m, n, 294, 353 
 
 6. 23 
 
 368. 369. 371 
 
 18. 14 
 
 145d 
 
 
 30. 5 
 
 294,353 
 
 6. 24,27,29246b, c 
 
 18. 15 
 
 83g 
 
 
 30. 8, 9 
 
 29, 103d, e, f, 267, 374 
 
 6. 27 
 
 229 
 
 18. 24 
 
 10, 179. 200b, c 
 
 
 30. 12 
 
 23a 
 
 6. 32-34 
 
 246b, c 
 
 19. 1 
 
 228 
 
 
 
 
 7. 7 
 
 195d 
 
 19.2 
 
 212 
 
 
 ECCT.ESIASTES. 
 
 7. 26,27 
 7.27 
 
 8. 10 
 
 231d 
 246b, c 
 387 
 
 19.3 
 19. 5, 9 
 19. 11 
 
 178 
 
 252b, f, g, i, 314 
 
 7a, 17a 
 
 
 1. 2, 14 
 
 2. 11 
 
 199, 374, 429 
 199, 374, 429 
 120g, h, j 
 357 
 6c, d 
 
 42,84.il8,128,238a,243 
 29c, 120, iSSa, b, 128 
 226 
 209 
 288 
 
 46, 65d, 72a, 74, 75, 109, 
 282, 414-420 
 
 8. 12 
 
 89 
 
 19. 15 
 
 35, 206a, b, c 
 
 
 8. 8 
 
 8. 14 
 9.3 
 
 9. 10 
 9. 12 
 
 8. 13 
 
 18b, c, f, 337c, li, i 
 
 19. 17 
 
 29i, k, 45, 317f 
 
 
 8. 17 
 8. 18 
 10. 6, 7, 9 
 
 80 
 
 89,166 
 
 198 
 
 19. 18 
 19. 21 
 19. 25 
 
 135, 136a, 137, 139c 
 
 13m, 348-350 
 
 339, 352k, 368, 369, 371, 
 
 10. 9 
 
 381,383 
 
 
 386 
 
 
 9. 15 
 10. 1 
 
 10. 20 
 
 11. 1,6 
 
 10. 13 
 
 135, 136a, 137, 139c 
 
 19. 27 
 
 51b, 87a-d, 152b 
 
 
 10. 15 
 10. 18 
 10. 24 
 
 374h 
 18f 
 222 
 
 20. I 
 20. 4 
 
 la,d,26a,229-236,402a, 
 
 c, 421 
 35 
 
 10. 28 
 
 367 
 
 20. 7 
 
 135, 137, 152a, c, d. 
 
 197, 
 
 11. 9 
 
 12. 1 
 12. 11 
 
 411e 
 
 15c, 126 
 
 339, 352k, 368-372, 386 
 
 10. 29 
 
 11. 7 
 
 33b, 379-381 
 
 120, 121, 222, 237f 
 
 20. 19 
 
 224b 
 174 
 
 
 11. 8, 31 
 11. 15 
 
 la, 45-47, 203 
 33d 
 
 20. 20 
 20. 24 
 
 143 
 
 13m, 346-350 
 
 
 SONG OF S0L03I0N. 
 
 11. 17,24,2545 
 
 21. 1 
 
 347 
 
 
 1. 4, 7 
 
 248 
 
 11. 17, 31 
 
 379-381 
 
 21. 3 
 
 33, 373-377 
 
 
 2. 5 
 
 248 
 
 11. 21 
 
 229e 
 
 21. 7 
 
 376a, b 
 
 
 3! 2 
 
 248 
 
 11. 24, 25 
 
 29k, 46, 47, 282 
 
 21. 21 
 
 33a, 198, 203 
 
 
 5 9-16 
 
 248 
 
 11. 30 
 
 250 
 
 21. 25 
 
 35, 906a, b, c 
 
 
 7; 10 
 8. 6,7 
 
 8. 7 
 
 '4 
 
 11. 31 
 
 33a, b, 141 
 
 21. 28 
 
 314 
 
 
 12. 4 
 
 7h 
 
 21. 31 
 
 131d, e,g 
 
 
 7 
 
 12. 10 
 
 203a, 378 
 
 22. 1 
 
 27b 
 
 
 
 12. 16 
 
 104e, g 
 
 22. 4 
 
 3a, 86b, 197j, 204, 247g 
 
 
 ISAIAH. 
 
 12. 17 
 
 314 
 
 22. 6 
 
 58, 86c, 135, 137, 
 
 139, 
 
 
 
 12. 19 
 
 141, 252 
 
 
 224b, 229e, 351a, 
 
 438c 
 
 1. 3 
 
 5, 102, 231a 
 
 12. 19, 22 
 
 <W)8a,c 
 
 22. 9 
 
 45-47 
 
 
 2. 18, 20 
 
 64, 281b, c 
 
 12.21 
 
 198. 252b, f, g, i 
 
 22. 15 
 
 135, 136a, 137, 139c 
 
 
 3. 10, 11 
 
 la, 141, 198 
 
 12. 24 
 
 243a, c, d 
 
 22. 17 
 
 .387 
 
 
 5. 11, 12 
 
 229-236, 421 
 
 13. 1 
 
 143 
 
 23. 4 
 
 267 
 
 
 5. 12 
 
 30-32 
 
 13. 5 
 
 la, 141, 252 
 
 23 7 
 
 133b 
 
 
 5. 18 
 
 73 
 
 13. 6, 21 
 
 33a, 198, 379-381, 383, 
 
 23. 12, 23 
 
 83g, 387 
 229,236 
 
 
 5. 20 
 
 356 
 
 
 384 
 
 23. 20, 35 
 
 
 5. 24 
 
 23b, 299 
 
 
 884 
 
 
 
 
 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 ISAIAH.— Continued. 
 
 ISAIAH.-Continued. 
 
 EZEKIEL..— Continued. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 ^inecdotes. 
 
 Ck. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 oi. v: 
 
 jlnecdotes. 
 
 0. 3 
 
 1191 
 
 62. 6, 7 
 
 320, 322, 399c 
 
 16. 63 
 
 125 
 
 9. 6 
 
 81 
 
 63. 10 
 
 32, 127, 196, 365a, 367 
 
 18. 4, 20 
 
 28h 
 
 10. 5-7 
 
 53i, 349, 440 
 
 64. 6 
 
 18a, 240, 256 
 
 18. 5. 8, 9 
 
 197, 198. 228, 239 
 
 13. 3 
 
 192a. b 
 
 64. 8 
 
 347-352 
 
 18. 30, 31 
 
 366. 373 
 
 13. 11 
 
 18b, c, f, 146c, 337c, h, i 
 
 65.5 
 
 2e, 256 
 
 20. 15,16,20, 
 
 14. 9-15 
 
 18a 
 
 65. 14 
 
 191b, 192a,. b 
 
 21 
 
 381k, 383, 384 
 
 14. 21 
 
 229e 
 
 66. 24 
 
 50a, 330a, b, 331-334 
 
 20. 26 
 
 270 
 
 14. 24, 27 
 
 341-352 
 
 
 
 20. 43 
 
 366, 373 
 
 17. 10 
 
 131d, e, g 
 
 
 JEREMIAH. 
 
 21. 29 
 
 177 
 
 17. 14 
 
 376a. b 
 
 
 
 22. 12 
 
 131d, e, g, 228b, d-g, 
 239e, 2441 
 
 23. 9 
 
 18a^f, 337c, h, i 
 
 1. 7, 8, 17, <• 
 
 
 25. 11 
 
 146 
 
 18 
 
 112,260 
 
 24. 13 
 
 26h 
 
 26. 4 
 
 294,353 
 
 2. 5 
 
 146a, f 
 
 33. 7-9 
 
 Ilia, b, c, 260 
 
 26. 5 
 
 18b, c, f, 337c, h, i 
 
 2. 13 
 
 85, 276c, 298-310, 424- 
 
 33. 18 
 
 26 
 
 26. 7 
 
 197, 198 
 
 
 427 
 
 33. 31 
 
 101c, 132a, 205 
 
 26. 9 
 
 13, 14, 80c, 100, 348 
 
 2. 19 
 
 13h, g, 26f, g 
 
 35. 11 
 
 163 
 
 27. 7, 9 
 
 13, 14, 51, 80c, 348 
 
 3. 13 
 
 90-93 
 
 36. 18 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 28. 9 
 
 58e. 139d. 152, 224b,287, 
 
 3. 21 
 
 131d, e, s 
 
 36. 31 
 
 366,373 
 
 
 351a, c, 387-399, 438c 
 
 3. 22 
 
 26.J 
 
 44. 24 
 
 378-386 
 
 23. 15, 17 
 
 252b, f, g, i, 314 
 
 5. 3 
 
 31, 126 
 
 45. 9 
 
 228, 239 
 
 28. 22 
 
 73 
 
 5. 7 
 
 207, 269 
 
 46. 3 
 
 193c, 317h, 439 
 
 29. 15 
 
 205 
 
 6. 14 
 
 301, 302, 424, 427 
 
 
 
 29. 19 
 
 192a, b, 254 
 
 6. 15 
 
 99 
 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 29. 20 
 
 73 
 
 7. 18 
 
 207, 269 
 
 
 
 29. 21 
 
 148b 
 
 8. 7 
 
 5, 231c 
 
 1. 12 
 
 4f, 236a 
 
 30. 9, 10 
 
 212 
 
 8. 9 
 
 53b, f, h, 70, 299 
 
 3. 16, 17 
 
 67c, e, 173, 285f, i, 294, 
 
 31. 7 
 
 64b, 207d, 281b, c 
 
 9. 1 
 
 250 
 
 
 353 
 
 32. 8 
 
 40, 45, 46, 47, 123b 
 
 9. 2-8 
 
 252, 407 
 
 4. 27 
 
 45 
 
 32. 20 
 
 71, 74, 75 
 
 9. 23. 24 
 
 362, 374 
 
 4. 30,31,37 18b, c,f, 337c, h,i 
 
 33. 15, 16 
 
 192c, 198,228, 239, 244i. 
 
 10. 3-5 
 
 207, 269 
 
 4. 35 
 
 341-345, 354a 
 
 
 346 
 
 10. 23 
 
 341-345 
 
 5. 6 
 
 9s, 94. 365 
 
 35. 1 
 
 277-279 
 
 10. 25 
 
 328 
 
 5. 20,23,30 18b, c, f, 337c, h, i 
 
 35. 10 
 
 192a, b 
 
 12. 1, 2 
 
 358 
 
 5. 27 
 
 260i 
 
 40. 6, 7 
 
 18a, 194c 
 
 13. 17 
 
 146a 
 
 6. 3.4 
 
 163 
 
 40. 27, 29 
 
 13, 14, 294, 353 
 
 13.23 
 
 2f, 15c, 230 
 
 6. 10 
 
 23a, 188, 190 
 
 41. 10 
 
 294, 353 
 
 14. 14 
 
 177 
 
 7. 25 
 
 29&-303 
 
 41. 11, 12 
 
 316 
 
 14. 22 
 
 207.269 
 
 9. 9 
 
 187 
 
 41. 16 
 
 107f, 192a, b 
 
 16. 17 
 
 132b, 297 
 
 9. 20, 21 
 
 90 
 
 42. 16 
 
 63a 
 
 16. 19 
 
 131c 
 
 9. 24 
 
 237a, 240 
 
 43. 25 
 
 301, 302 
 
 17. 5 
 
 304 
 
 10. 12 
 
 50a, 330a, b, 331-334 
 
 44. 16-20 
 
 207, 269 
 
 17. 7 
 
 53n, 294, 353 
 
 11. 35 
 
 13,14 
 
 44. 20 
 
 212 
 
 17. 9 
 
 132a 
 
 12. 3 
 
 74, 75, 263, 277-281 
 
 45. 7 
 
 354a 
 
 17. 23 
 
 15c, 31, 212, 367 
 
 
 387-399 
 
 45. 9 
 
 410 
 
 18. 6 
 
 341-345 
 
 12. 13 
 
 65c 
 
 45. 19 
 
 331-334, 412d 
 
 18. 12 
 
 121c, e, f, 132 
 
 
 
 45.20 
 
 207, 269 
 
 18. 20 
 
 226 
 
 
 HOSEA. 
 
 45. 22 
 
 81a, 82, 186 
 
 20. 9 
 
 264e 
 
 
 
 46. 6, 7 
 
 207, 269, 281b, c 
 
 20. 11 
 
 316 
 
 3.4 
 
 237b, c, g 
 
 46. 9, 10 
 
 341-352 
 
 22. 10 
 
 52 
 
 4. 2 
 
 252 
 
 48. 5 
 
 185 
 
 22. 22 
 
 la 
 
 4. 6 
 
 70, 138, 212, 229e 
 
 48, 10 
 
 13, 14, 51, 80c, 348 
 
 22. 30 
 
 229e 
 
 5. 6 
 
 32b 
 
 48. 22 
 
 6i; 
 
 23. 14, 17 
 
 211, 215, 424 
 
 5. 15 
 
 13,51,348 
 
 49. 4 
 
 146a, f 
 
 23. 23, 24 
 
 132b, 297, 194a 
 
 6. 4,5 
 
 13h, g. 26 
 
 49. 15 
 
 11, 13, 14, 51, 190-192, 
 
 27. 9 
 
 177 
 
 9. 12 
 
 32b. 127, 365a, 367 
 
 
 294, 353 
 
 29. 7 
 
 157, 313 
 
 14.8 
 
 207d, 281b, c 
 
 50. 6 
 
 291-294 
 
 29. 8 
 
 177 
 
 
 
 50. 10 
 
 294, 353 
 
 32. 18 
 
 229e 
 
 
 JOEL. 
 
 50. 11 
 
 85 
 
 32. 19 
 
 132b, 297 
 
 
 
 52. 7 
 
 277i 
 
 32. 33 
 
 212 
 
 2. 13 
 
 187, 366, 373 
 
 53. — 
 
 60a 
 
 33. 3 
 
 330a, b, 331-334. 335a, 
 
 2. 32 
 
 50a, 333, 412d 
 
 53. 5, 6, 10 
 
 J 
 
 
 b, 412d 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 28, 186, 240 
 
 44. 2-4 
 
 207, 269 
 
 
 AMOS. 
 
 53. 9 
 
 218 
 
 49. 16 
 
 18b-e 
 
 
 
 54. 4 
 
 112, 260 
 
 50. 38 
 
 207, 269 
 
 3. 3 
 
 253b-f 
 
 54. 5 
 
 240a 
 
 
 
 3. 6 
 
 141, 143, 208, 383, 384 
 
 54. 8 
 54. 17 
 
 133b 
 316 
 
 LAMENTATIONS. 
 
 4. 4 
 
 5. 12 
 
 40 
 
 228b, d-g, 239c 
 
 55. 2 
 
 2, 61e 
 
 3. 26 
 
 118, 321 
 
 6. 1. 
 
 225a 
 
 55. 6 
 
 15c, 23a, 3.3, 127, 129e 
 
 3. 30 
 
 291-294 
 
 6.3 
 
 122f, 424 
 
 55. 7 
 
 373 
 
 
 
 
 
 55. 10, 11 
 
 57-66, 277-279 
 
 
 EZEKIEL. 
 
 
 OBADIAH. 
 
 56. 1 
 
 56. 2 
 
 57. 5 
 
 33, 197. 198, 228, 239,377 
 
 379-381 
 
 207, 269, 270, 272 
 
 2. 3-7 
 2. 4 
 
 307, 368a, c, 371a, b, d 
 
 72e 
 
 3,14 
 10-15 
 
 18a, b, c, 337c, h, i 
 116, 316 
 
 57. 10 
 57. 13 
 
 121c, e, f 
 294, 353 
 
 2. 6,7 
 2. 7 
 
 112, 260 
 260 
 
 
 JONAH. 
 
 57. 15 
 
 164a, 204, 247g 
 
 3. 10, 11 
 
 237d,e,260 
 
 1. 5 
 
 221. 222 
 
 57. 17 
 
 29a, 48a 
 
 3. 18 
 
 262d 
 
 2. 7 
 
 200b. c, 333 
 
 57. 21 
 
 61e 
 
 3. 20 
 
 26a 
 
 3. 8 
 
 366, 373 
 
 58. 1 
 
 260 
 
 5. 6 
 
 70 
 
 3. 9 
 
 187e 
 
 58. 6 
 
 430a, b, c, e 
 
 8. 12 
 
 215 
 
 4. 2 
 
 187 
 
 .58. 10, 11 
 
 45, 46, 47 
 
 12. 24 
 
 177 
 
 
 
 58. 13 
 
 379-381 
 
 13. 7, 9 
 
 177 
 
 
 MICAH. 
 
 59. 3, 4, 14 
 
 252 
 
 13. 10 
 
 301, 424, 427 
 
 
 
 59. 8 
 
 61e 
 
 13. 22 
 
 301, 302, 424 
 
 2. 2,3 
 
 29a 
 
 59. 12 
 
 94-96, 288 
 
 16. 2 
 
 260 
 
 3.2 
 
 132d,h,j,I,m 
 
 59. 16 
 
 28 
 
 16. 20 
 
 270 
 
 3. 7, 11 
 
 177 
 
 61. 2, 3, 7 
 
 13, 50, 19Jb, 192a, b 
 
 16. 49 
 
 206, 337 
 
 3. 8 
 
 112, 260 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 MICAH.— Continued. 
 
 
 MATTHEW.-Continued. 
 
 MATTHEW.— Continued. 
 
 Ch.v. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 4. 3 
 
 277c, 278h 
 
 
 6. 2, 5, 16 205 
 
 23. 14-24 
 
 356. 3.''>8 
 
 6. 7 
 
 270 
 
 
 6. 6 
 
 23a, 327 
 
 23. 25 
 
 132a, 205 
 
 6. 8 
 
 33, 202, 204, 22S 
 
 229, 
 
 6^9 
 
 48c, 194a, 237k 
 
 23. 37, 38 
 
 237b, c, f, s 
 
 
 377 
 
 
 6. 10 
 
 286d, 321, 409 
 
 24. 24 
 
 305 
 
 6. 12 
 
 252 
 
 
 6. 12 
 
 82, 154, 187 
 
 24. 44 
 
 118, 238 
 
 
 
 
 6. 13 
 
 2a, 29b, 145a, 229, 40Id 
 
 24. 4H-5I 
 
 402a, c 
 
 
 NAHUM. 
 
 
 6. 19, 20 
 
 120g. h, j, 121d, g, 122c 
 
 25. 34-36 
 
 188 
 
 
 
 
 6. 19, 21 
 
 29e 
 
 25. 40 
 
 248 
 
 1.2,6 
 
 70,73,116,208,316,38,1, 
 
 6. 20 
 
 267b, e, g, b 
 
 25. 46 
 
 360 
 
 
 384 
 
 
 6. 26-30 
 
 346 
 
 26. 11 
 
 8;ia 
 
 1.7 
 
 13, 14, 50, 66, 190, 
 
 192 
 
 6. 33 «^ 
 
 127e, 129c, 130 
 
 26. 24 
 
 359 
 
 1. 15 
 
 250a, b. 258, 259, 
 
 260, 
 
 7.2 
 
 48a 
 
 26. 26-29 
 
 86 
 
 
 262, 263, 277-281 
 
 
 7, 3-5 
 
 2c, 76a, 146e 
 
 26. 39. 42 
 
 .50a, 321, 409 
 
 3. 19 
 
 15c, 32, 70b, d, t\ 
 
 87b, 
 
 7. 7-11 
 
 50a, 33flh, 331-334, 4 12d 
 
 26. 41 
 
 2a, 29b, 145a, 229 
 
 
 120b.l21c->,',126, 
 
 128d, 
 
 7. 12 
 
 16a, c. 38-44, 142, 202, 
 
 26. 50 
 
 113 
 
 
 e, 129e, 190 
 
 
 
 286,377 
 
 26. 59, 60 
 
 314 
 
 
 
 
 7. 15 
 
 223c 
 
 26. 71,72 
 
 130a 
 
 
 HABAKKUK. 
 
 
 7. 16-20 
 
 101, 166, 215 309, 424 
 
 26. 75 
 
 26f, 9.5-97 
 
 
 
 
 7. 21 
 
 101, 166, 193b 
 
 27. 3-5 
 
 6e, d, 87b, 95-97, 359 
 
 1. 12 
 
 185b 
 
 
 7. 22, 23 
 
 402 
 
 27. 19,24 
 
 218 
 
 2.2 
 
 72d 
 
 
 7. 24 
 
 192e 
 
 27. 22, 23 
 
 132d, h, j, 1, m 
 
 2. 15 
 
 2a. b, 422, 423 
 
 
 7. 29 
 
 19.5a, 218 
 
 27. 34-45 
 
 26 Id 
 
 2. 18 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 
 8. 8 
 
 g6b, 204 
 
 27. 35 
 
 180-182 
 
 
 
 
 8. 29 
 
 218 
 
 27. 54 
 
 81, 218 
 
 
 ZEPHANIAH. 
 
 
 9. 6 
 
 81a, 82 
 
 27. 55-60 
 
 248 
 
 1 12 
 
 20b, 424 
 
 
 9. 24 
 
 375 
 
 28. 20 
 
 260 
 
 2.' 3 
 
 254' 
 
 
 10. 8 
 
 38a, b, d-i, 71, 72b, 317 
 
 
 
 
 10. 16 
 
 17a, 21d, 108, 339a, d,f,g 
 
 
 MARK. 
 
 263 
 
 
 HAGGAI. 
 
 
 10. 20, 26 
 10. 28 
 
 54, 55a, g, 60a, c, f 
 22, 2ee, 84d, e, f, 112 
 
 1. 17 
 
 1. 5, 7 
 
 102 
 
 
 
 119a. 147 b, 260 
 
 1. 22 
 
 195a, 218 
 
 1. 6 
 
 95a 96b 219 288 
 
 
 10. 33 
 
 127, 129e, 130 
 
 1. 24 
 
 218 
 
 2. 5 
 
 *'"**» i7VJW, ^±Of ..lAJU 
 
 112 195 
 
 
 10. 34-36 
 
 84d, e, f, 248e, f 
 
 1. 35 
 
 327 
 
 2. 8 
 
 317f 
 
 
 10. 37, 38 
 
 403 
 
 2. 7 
 
 301, 302 
 
 
 10. 39 
 
 122d, 192 1 
 
 2. 10 
 
 81a, 82 
 
 
 ZECHARIAH. 
 
 
 11. 19 
 11. 25 
 
 251a 
 
 28b, 194e, f, 227 
 
 2. 27 
 
 3. 28,29 
 
 379, 380 
 73c, e, j, ra 
 
 4. 10 
 
 5. 4 
 
 398, 399 
 314, 376 
 
 
 11. 28 
 
 62b, 81a 
 
 3. 29 
 
 164b, c 
 
 
 11. 28,29 
 
 28b, 62b, 81a, 172b 
 
 4. 8, 20 
 
 74, 75. 414-420 
 
 7. 9, 10 
 
 197. 198. 228 9P^Q 
 
 377 
 
 11. 29 
 
 %'^i . ... 
 
 4. 19 
 
 251a, b 
 
 7. 11,12,13 15c, 31, 32, 127, 
 
 213, 
 
 12. 31, 32 
 12. 36 
 
 73c, e, J, n, 406a 
 105a 
 
 5. 12 
 
 6. 12 
 
 425f 
 366, 373 
 
 8. 19 
 
 9. 9 
 
 277a, c! 291-294, 430 
 254 277i 
 
 12. 37 
 
 13. 22 
 
 216, 217, 219, 220 
 29k, 1 
 
 6. 20 
 6.22 
 
 197 
 30-32 
 
 10. 2 
 13. 9 
 
 177, 207, 269, 300 
 13, 14a-g. 
 
 
 13. 52 
 
 14. 2 
 
 151 
 94 
 
 6. 41 
 
 7. 7-9 
 
 329 
 269, 300 
 
 
 
 
 14. 6 
 
 30-32 
 
 7. 10 
 
 143 
 
 
 MALACHI. 
 
 
 14. 19 
 14. 23 
 
 329 
 327 
 
 7. 21-23 
 
 8. 6,7 
 
 132a, 146d 
 .329 
 
 3. 5 
 
 314 318 
 
 
 14. 33 
 
 427a 
 
 8.34 
 
 38a. b, 256f, 403 
 
 3' 10 
 
 40 ' 
 
 
 15. 4 
 
 143 
 
 8. 35 
 
 122d, 192 1 
 
 3. 10-12 
 3. 15 
 
 46.47 
 358 
 
 
 15. 13 
 15. 14 
 
 205,209 
 209 
 
 8. 36, 37 
 
 18g, 120k, h,j, 121d, g, 
 122c, 191a, 267, 278a, 
 
 4. 2 
 
 119u 
 
 
 15. 27 
 
 86b, 204, 247g 
 
 
 374d, e, f, 408 
 
 
 
 
 15. 36 
 
 329 
 
 8. 38 
 
 127a 
 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 
 16. 18 
 16. 19 
 
 170g 
 
 I4nl 
 
 9. 43 
 9. 4.3-45 
 
 360 
 412 
 
 1. 23 
 
 2. 18 
 
 81 
 
 
 16. 24 
 
 256 
 
 9. 50 
 
 101c, d, 111b, 6,209, 265i 
 
 11 
 
 
 16. 24, 25 
 
 122d, 192 1, 403 
 
 10. 13-16 
 
 50d, 80, 86c, 387-399 
 
 3* 1 2 
 
 366, 373 
 
 
 16. 26 
 
 18g, 408 
 86B, 204 
 
 10. 24, 25 
 
 374b, 6 f 
 
 3! 7' 
 
 350e 
 
 
 18.4 
 
 10. 29, 30 
 
 248e, 250, 285 
 
 3. 8 
 
 373 
 
 
 18. 7 
 
 423 
 
 11.24 
 
 320, 331, 332 
 
 3. 11 
 
 366, 373 
 
 
 18. 8, 9 
 
 4c, 403, 412 
 
 11. 25 
 
 176 
 
 3' 14 
 
 204 
 
 
 18. 11 
 
 27b, 28, 81, 82, 187 
 
 12. 30, 33 
 
 100 
 
 4* 1 
 
 425f 
 
 
 18. 15 
 
 377 
 
 12. 31 
 
 377 
 
 4 7 10 
 
 66 
 
 
 18. 16 
 
 167b 
 
 12. 37 
 
 259 
 
 4! 17 
 
 366, 373 
 
 
 18. 18 
 
 140a 
 
 12. 42, 44 
 
 39, 389e 
 
 5,6,7. - 
 5. 3 
 
 54k, 83c 
 
 
 18. 19,20 
 
 333a, e.j.m 
 
 13. 33 
 
 145a 
 
 204, 247g 
 13, 50, 170f 
 
 
 18. 20 
 
 193c, 297, 439 
 
 14. 8 
 
 71c 
 
 5 4 
 
 
 18. 31-35 
 
 175c, g, 176, 155-162 
 
 14. 21 
 
 359 
 
 5'. 5 
 
 5 7 
 
 254 
 
 
 19. 13, 14 
 
 80 
 
 14. 36 
 
 321, 409 
 
 203 
 
 
 19. 18, 19 
 
 54a, 143, 362c, 377 
 
 14. 38 
 
 29b, f, 145a 
 
 5. 8 
 
 132a, 228, 239 
 
 
 19. 23, 24 
 
 29c 
 
 14. 56 
 
 314 
 
 5. 9 
 
 277a, c, 291-294, 313 
 
 19. 29 
 
 83e, 192 1 
 
 14. 70, 71 
 
 130 
 
 5. 12 
 
 315b 
 
 
 20. 6 
 
 206,210 
 
 15. 13, 14 
 
 132d, h, j, 1, m 
 
 5. 13-16 
 
 3d, 88c, 101c, d, f 
 
 233c, 265i 
 92,93 
 
 89 
 
 106, 
 
 21. 15, 16 
 21. 16 
 
 79 
 
 235a, 391, 393-397 
 
 15. 25-33 
 
 16. 16 
 
 261d 
 
 84a, 124, 169-172, 240 
 
 5.23,24 
 5. 25 
 
 
 21.22 
 22. 11, 12 
 
 320, 331-344 
 
 276d, 288a, i, 0, r, 365 
 
 
 LUKE. 
 
 5. 29,30 
 5. 34, 37 
 5. 38 
 5.39 
 
 5. 42 
 5.44 
 
 5. 45, 46 
 
 6. 1-4 
 
 235d, 412 
 
 73, 338-340 
 
 431-437 
 
 149, 175, 241, 242 
 
 294 
 184 
 
 154-162, 184:i 
 162d 
 9d, 43d 
 
 291- 
 
 22. 29 214, 299 
 
 22. 37, 38 100, 188, 192d 
 
 22. 39 4e, 36, 37, 142, 202, 2d0, 
 
 262, 377 
 
 23. 3 209 
 23. 5, 25, 27 
 
 23 205 
 23. 12 2e. 18b, c, f, 146c, 337c, 
 b,i 
 
 1.6 
 1 10 
 
 1. 70 
 
 2. 29, 30 
 2. 38 
 
 2. 51 
 3.7,8 
 
 7h 
 330 
 54, 55a, g, 60a, o-f, i, 
 
 237d, e 
 119f, 237f, 287d 
 188, 192d 
 296 
 366, 373 
 
 
 886 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 LUKE.— Continued. 
 
 1 LUKE.— Continufcd. 
 
 JOHN.— Continued. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 1 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 3. 11 
 
 38, 317 
 
 18. 16 
 
 80 
 
 15. 9 
 
 248 
 
 3. 14 
 
 103d, e, f 
 
 18. 30 
 
 286z 
 
 15. 11 
 
 192a, b, 194g, j, k 
 
 3. 17 
 
 360 
 
 19.8 
 
 95, 373 
 
 15. 12 
 
 84a, 247 
 
 4. 18, 19 
 
 50b, 277-281 
 
 19. 10 
 
 28a, 187c 
 
 15. 13 
 
 8b, e, 37 
 
 5. 8 
 
 86b 
 
 19. 22 
 
 216, 217, 220, 412h 
 
 15. 18,24,25 132d, h, j, 1, m 
 
 5. 16 
 
 3i7 
 
 19. 41 
 
 312 
 
 16. 2 
 
 298. 303. 315. 316 
 
 5, 17 
 
 81 
 
 19.42 
 
 33b, 127, 365a, 367 
 
 16. 7, 13, 14 54, 55a, g, 60a, c-f, i 
 
 5. 21, 24 
 
 81a, 82 
 
 20. 46 
 
 27 
 
 16. 8 
 
 30, 132c, 195 
 
 6. 12 
 
 322. 327, 399c 
 
 20. 47 
 
 326d, 356 
 
 16. 20, 22 
 
 50b 
 
 6. 22 
 
 132d, h, m 
 
 21. 2 
 
 389e 
 
 16. 20,22,24192a, b, 194j, k 
 
 6. 23 
 
 191b 
 
 21. 19 
 
 84a, 284e, 311 
 
 16. 27 
 
 248 
 
 6. 24 
 
 29c, 1 
 
 21. 26 
 
 120, 121, 221, 222 
 
 17. 3 
 
 185a 
 
 6. 24, 25 
 
 120g, h,j,121d, g,122c, 
 374b, d, e, f 
 
 21. 34 
 
 229 
 
 17. 13 
 
 192a, b, 194j, k 
 
 
 22. 19, 20 
 
 86 
 
 17. 15 
 
 336a 
 
 6. 25 
 
 32f 
 
 22. 33 
 
 279c 
 
 17. 17, 19 
 
 54g, h, i, 57-65 
 
 6. 27,28,3543d. 154-162, 241, 242 
 
 22. 40, 46 
 
 229 
 
 17. 20-22 
 
 204d, 247 
 
 6.29 
 
 291-294 
 
 22. 41, 42 
 
 321, 408 
 
 18. 11 
 
 50a, 409 
 
 6. 3i 
 
 187c 
 
 23. 28 
 
 250e 
 
 18. 25, 27 
 
 130 
 
 6. 37 
 
 175c, g, 176 
 
 23. 34 
 
 153m, 157 
 
 18. 38 
 
 277i 
 
 6. 38 
 
 46, 47, 48a, 123b 
 
 23. 34-45 
 
 261 d 
 
 19. 15 
 
 132d, h, j, 1, m 
 
 6. 39 
 
 209,268 
 
 23. 43 
 
 250c 
 
 19. 24 
 
 180-182-' 
 
 6. 41, 42 
 
 2e, 76a, 146e 
 
 23. 50, 51 
 
 228,239 
 
 19. 26 
 
 8 
 
 6. 46, 49 
 
 101c, d 
 
 24. 30 
 
 329 
 
 20. 28 
 
 81 
 
 7. 30 
 
 70 
 
 24. 52 
 
 427a 
 
 21. 15-17 
 
 195f, 248 
 
 7. 34 
 
 251a, b 
 
 
 
 
 
 7. 41-46 
 
 256 
 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 
 ACTS. 
 
 7. 47 
 
 243 
 
 
 
 
 
 8. 8, 15 
 
 57-65, 74, 75. 263, 277- 
 
 1. 1-3 
 
 81 
 
 1. 2 
 
 54, 60a, c-f, i 
 
 
 281. 414-420 
 
 1. 1-14 
 
 195a 
 
 1. 14 
 
 330, 334 
 
 8. 13 
 
 26, 23 le 
 
 L 12 
 
 169, 170, 240 
 
 1. 18 
 
 .359 
 
 8. 18, 21 
 
 101, 165 193, 
 
 1.29 
 
 28, 167a 
 
 1. 24 
 
 297 
 
 8. 28 
 
 218 
 
 1. 33 
 
 195 
 
 2. 23 
 
 260, 349, 350 
 
 9. 7 
 
 94 
 
 1. 36 
 
 106-109, 262 
 
 2. 33 
 
 195 
 
 9. 23 
 
 3aa, b, 256f, 403 
 
 1. 45-49 
 
 106-109, 262 
 
 2. 37 
 
 30b-e 
 
 9. 24 
 
 12->d, 192 1 
 
 3. 1-3 
 
 106-109, 262 
 
 2. 38 
 
 366, 373 
 
 9. 25 
 
 leg, I20g, h, j, 12Id, g, 
 122c, 191a, 267, 278a, 
 
 3. 3 
 
 65d 
 
 2. 42 
 
 86 
 
 
 3. 5,6 
 
 195 
 
 2. 46 
 
 330 
 
 
 374d, e, f, 408 
 
 3. 11 
 
 176b 
 
 3. 1 
 
 330 
 
 9. 26 
 
 127a 
 
 3. 16,17,3628a, i, 167, 168. 170. 
 
 3. 19 
 
 366, 373 
 
 9. 60 
 
 257, 258 
 
 
 186b, 240 
 
 3. 26 
 
 281 
 
 9. 62 
 
 26, 32c, d, e 
 
 3. 19-21 
 
 83j, 212, 213 
 
 4. 12 
 
 28a, b, 256 
 
 10. 2 
 
 257 
 
 3. 36 
 
 237f, 360 
 
 4. 13 
 
 lOlf 
 
 10. 27 
 
 100, 362c, 377 
 
 4. 36 
 
 263 
 
 4. 13,18,19, 
 
 10. 30-38 
 
 l.'>6, 242e 
 
 4. 34, 39 
 
 106-109, 262 
 
 29 
 
 84b, d, 6, f, 112, 260 
 
 11. 2 
 
 48c 
 
 4. 42 
 
 28a, i 
 
 4. 32 
 
 84a, 247 
 
 11. 4 
 
 2, 29b, 229 
 
 5. 17,18,23427a 
 
 4 36, 37 
 
 38a, b 
 
 11. 5-8 
 
 322, 399c 
 
 5. 39 
 
 55, 63, 68, 69, 214, 299, 
 
 5. 3-5 
 
 208a, c, 252b, f,g,i, 400 
 
 11. lft-13 
 
 330a, b, c, 331-334 
 
 
 362, 337-399 
 
 
 406a 
 
 11. 28 
 
 193b, 101, 166 
 
 5.43 
 
 114 
 
 5. 5 
 
 357 
 
 11. 43 
 
 27 
 
 5. 44 
 
 54e, 213 
 
 5. 8-10 
 
 29, 208a, c, 252b, f, g 
 
 11. 52 
 
 53b, i, k 
 
 6. 11,23 
 
 329 
 
 
 i, 400, 406a 
 
 12. 4, 5 
 
 26e, 112, 119a, 147b, 260 
 
 6. 27 
 
 120|, h, j, 121d, g, 122c, 
 
 5. 29 
 
 84b, d, e, f, 112, 173 
 
 12. 8 
 
 84,88 
 
 
 5. 32 
 
 295 
 
 12. 9 
 
 127a 
 
 6. 29 
 
 169-172, 240 
 
 5. 89 
 
 147b 
 
 12. 10 
 
 73c, e, j, m, 406a 
 
 6. 37 
 
 187 
 
 5. 41 
 
 119a 
 
 12 15 
 
 29a, 145c 
 
 6. 63 
 
 54f,k 
 
 5. 42 
 
 262 
 
 12. 19 
 
 122f 
 
 6 66 
 
 26 
 
 6. 3 
 
 197 
 
 12. 20, 21 
 
 29j. 120, 121, 194c 
 
 6. 68 
 
 83h 
 
 6. 4 
 
 262 
 
 12. 31 
 
 129c 
 
 7. 24 
 
 134c 
 
 6. 10 
 
 112 
 
 12. 35-37 
 
 118, 122a, b, 238 
 
 7. 46 
 
 218 
 
 6. 13 
 
 314 
 
 12. 45, 46 
 
 120 
 
 8. 9 
 
 .30a, d, e, 276d, 288a, i, 
 
 7. 9, 10 
 
 163, 346 
 
 12. 49,51-53 84b, d, e, f 
 
 
 o, r, 289d 
 
 7. 51 
 
 32a, b, 33b, 127, 196, 
 
 12.57 
 
 94-97, 276d. 365, 377 
 
 8. 12 
 
 13g, 88c, 190-192 
 
 
 365a, 367, 406d 
 
 13. 3 
 
 350c, 366, 373 
 
 8. 21 
 
 120, 121. 237f, 359 
 
 7. 51-53 
 
 112, 260 
 
 14. 11 
 
 86b, 204 
 
 8. 34 
 
 230, 235d 
 
 7. 59, 60 
 
 157,254 
 
 14. 13 
 
 38c 
 
 8. 36 
 
 240b. c 
 
 8. 1-4 
 
 315a 
 
 14. 18 
 
 129a, b 
 
 8. 43 
 
 51e, 212, 213 
 
 8. 22 
 
 366, 373 
 
 14. 26,27,33 84b. d, e. f, 284a. b, 403d 
 
 8. 44 
 
 252, 400 
 
 8.23 
 
 230 
 
 14. 34 
 
 101c, d, 209 
 
 9. 31 
 
 1.52c 
 
 8. 27-33 
 
 106-110, 262 
 
 1.5. 7, 10 
 
 250g 
 
 9. 39 
 
 153n, 212 
 
 9. 29 
 
 112, 260 
 
 15. IH, 19 
 
 366, 373 
 
 10. 9 
 
 304 
 
 9. 36, 39 
 
 41 
 
 16. 9 
 
 38a, b 
 
 10. 33 
 
 427 
 
 10. 2, 4 
 
 38a, b, 328 
 
 16. 13 
 
 76c 
 
 11. 25, 26 
 
 169-172, 240 
 
 10. 22 
 
 197 
 
 16. 19 
 
 120j 
 
 12. 12-15 
 
 277i 
 
 10. 31 . 
 
 334 
 
 16. 26 
 
 307, 3G0 
 
 12. 43 
 
 27 
 
 10. 34 
 
 112b 
 
 17. 1 
 
 423 
 
 12. 48 
 
 368b 
 
 10. 36 
 
 81 
 
 17. 2 
 
 153n, 16Ic 
 
 13. 2 
 
 400 
 
 10. 38 
 
 .38-44, 317, 414-420, 441 
 
 17. 3, 4 
 
 13nb, 175c, 176,368-372, 
 
 13. 7 
 
 194d 
 
 10. 42 
 
 120a, 238, 427e 
 
 
 386 
 
 13. 14 
 
 81,204 
 
 10.43 
 
 170, 240 
 
 17. 10 
 
 256, 25?g 
 
 13. 15 
 
 87f 
 
 11. 24 
 
 263 
 
 18. 1-8 
 
 15-2c. 322. 3'J9c 
 
 13. 27 
 
 245b 
 
 11.29 
 
 38-40 
 
 18. 7, 8 50a. 3.30a. b, 331, .334,3.35a, 
 
 13. 34 
 
 261c 
 
 12. 5, 7, 12 330, 331 
 
 
 b, 412d 
 
 13. 34, 35 
 
 247 
 
 12. 21-23 
 
 18b, 316, 337c, h,i 
 
 18.9 
 
 256k 
 
 14. 1,18,27 66,172,240,294,353 | 
 
 13. 3 
 
 330 
 
 18. 11 
 
 23 
 
 14. 6 
 
 304 
 
 13. 38, 39 
 
 28a, b, 81a, 169-172, 
 
 18. 12 
 
 256b 
 
 14. 21, 23 
 
 248 
 
 
 186, 187, 240, 256 
 
 18. 13 
 
 1.53c. 256h, 324, 373 
 
 14. 26 
 
 54. 55a, g, 60a, c-f, i 
 
 13. 45 
 
 163 
 
 18. 14 
 
 88, l4Gc, 204 
 
 15. 3 
 
 54g, h, i, 57-65 
 
 15. 9 
 
 162a 
 
 887 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 ACTS.— Continued. 
 
 ROMANS.— Continued. 
 
 
 1 CORINTHIANS.-Continned. 
 
 C*. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 C74. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 J6. 16 
 
 330 
 
 8. 35, 37 
 
 190, 191, 192c-m. 
 
 194j, 
 
 7. 10 
 
 "'^ 
 
 16. 29 
 
 30b-e, 195, 333 
 
 
 k,200 
 
 
 7. 20 
 
 l()3d, e, f 
 
 16. 31 
 
 170, 240 
 
 8. 38, 39 
 
 119 
 
 
 7. 23 
 
 195e 
 
 17. 5 
 
 163 
 
 9. 1-3 
 
 250, 312, 408 
 
 
 7. 39 
 
 253b-f 
 
 17. 11 
 
 54a, 55, 63c, 68, 69, 299 
 
 9. 5 
 
 81 
 
 
 1 8. 4 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 17. 22 
 
 114,117,305-308 
 
 9. 11 
 
 170d, 194h 
 
 
 1 8. 13 
 
 4e 
 
 17. 26 
 
 77,290b 
 
 10. 1 
 
 250, 312, 408 
 
 
 9. 12 
 
 283,284 
 
 17. 28 
 
 341-345 
 
 10. 3 
 
 61e, 256j, k, m 
 
 
 9. 16 
 
 258j 
 
 17.30 
 
 366, 373 
 
 10. 4 
 
 170, 240 
 
 
 10. 4 
 
 168, 170g, 172c 
 
 17. 31 
 
 238, 351b, c 
 
 10. 9-11 
 
 169 
 
 
 1 10. 10 
 
 178 
 
 18. 3 
 
 210, 243 
 
 10. 14 
 
 268 
 
 
 1 10. 12 
 
 29f, 131d, e, g 
 
 18. 9, 10 
 
 112 
 
 10. 15 
 
 257 
 
 
 10. 21 
 
 87d. 112p 
 
 18. 24 
 
 153 
 
 10. 17 
 
 61 
 
 
 10. 24 
 
 38a, b, 44b, c, f, i, 250 
 
 18. 25 
 
 262 
 
 11. 6 
 
 240,256 
 
 
 10. 31 
 
 76b, 411r, 412b 
 
 19. 8 
 
 112,260 
 
 11. 16 
 
 185c, d, e 
 
 
 11. 14 
 
 5, 231a, 2.35c 
 
 19. 19 
 
 177b, 278b, 295a 
 
 12. 1 
 
 100 
 
 
 IL 23-26 
 
 86 
 
 20.7 
 
 86 
 
 12. 3 
 
 247g 
 
 
 11. 27,29,30 8Cd, I12|) 
 
 20. 19 
 
 86b, 204 
 
 12. 6, 7 
 
 257,258 
 
 
 11. 28,31 
 
 86f 
 
 20. 20,21,26 144b, 262 
 
 12. 10 
 
 204d, 247 
 
 
 11. 32 
 
 ].% 14 
 
 20. 24 
 
 248a, e, 250a, b, c, 285 
 
 12. 11 
 
 206, 210, 258 
 
 
 12. 2 
 
 207, 2G9, 300 
 
 20. 26, 27 
 
 260 
 
 12. 12 
 
 30, 84a, 311, 322, 
 
 323, 
 
 12. 3 
 
 195 
 
 20. 31 
 
 262 
 
 
 327 
 
 
 12. 4, 6 
 
 ]67b, 168 
 
 20. 34 
 
 41, 210, 243 
 
 12. 13 
 
 201 
 
 
 12. 13 
 
 39b, 167b, 108 
 
 20. 35 
 
 45,286 
 
 12. 14 
 
 155, 208 
 
 
 13. 3 
 
 256b 
 
 20. 36 
 
 330 
 
 12. 15 
 
 36-44 
 
 
 13. 4-7 
 
 8a, 43a, b, 44b, 78, 163. 
 
 21. 5 
 
 330 
 
 12. 16 
 
 38, 204 
 
 
 
 175, 176, 241, 242, 
 
 21. 13 
 
 248a, 279c, e, 285 
 
 12. 17, 19 
 
 21, 175, 176, 291-294 
 
 
 407d, e, i, fc 
 
 21. 14 
 
 321 
 
 12. 18 
 
 313 
 
 
 13. 12 
 
 194d, e 
 
 22. 4 
 
 298, 303 
 
 12. 20-21 
 
 43c, d. 154c, 156, 
 
 158h, 
 
 14. 12 
 
 258,262 
 
 22. 16 
 
 84b, d, e, f 
 
 
 i, 184a, 241, 242 
 
 
 14. 15 
 
 289a, b, c,i 
 
 23. 1 
 
 33a, c. e. f. 98. 228. 239 
 
 13. 3 
 
 150 
 
 
 14. IG 
 
 330 ^■^ 
 
 24. 2,3,10 113 
 
 13. 5 
 
 33a, c, f, 9.>-98, 
 
 228, 
 
 14. 19 
 
 '259 
 
 24. 16 
 
 33a, c, e, f, 98, 228, 239 
 
 
 239, 382, 389a, d 
 
 
 15. 10 
 
 204a 
 
 24.25 
 
 32c, e, f, 126. 127, 351b, 
 
 13. 7, a 
 
 33, 197, 198, 228, 
 
 239, 
 
 15. 33 
 
 51b. 87a, b 
 
 
 c, 238, 260h 
 
 
 377 
 
 
 15. 54-57 
 
 118, 119,172,200,280 
 
 26. 9-11 
 
 298, 303 
 
 13. 8, 9 
 
 54, 211, 1321, 362c 
 
 
 15. 58 
 
 4a, (17e, 173, 175f, 285f, 
 
 26. 17, 18 
 
 212 
 
 13. 10 
 
 4e 
 
 
 
 i, 403b, d 
 
 26. 18 
 
 366 
 
 13. 13 
 
 65a, 87b, 197, 228 
 
 ,239, 
 
 16. 1 
 
 40 
 
 26. 29 
 
 250 
 
 
 251 
 
 
 16. 13 
 
 4a, 67e. 173, 175f, 285f, 
 
 27. 3 
 
 113 
 
 14. 6 
 
 188, 192d 
 
 
 
 i, 403b, d 
 
 27. 35 
 
 329 
 
 14. 8 
 
 122i 
 
 
 16. 15-17 
 
 41 
 
 28. 4 
 
 288 
 
 14. 10, 12 
 
 351b, c 
 
 
 16.22 
 
 224a 
 
 28. 7 
 
 113 
 
 14. 13, 21 
 
 2a, b, 3e, 88c, 209, 
 
 233c, 
 
 
 
 
 ROMANS. 
 
 14. 17 
 
 283, 423 
 192a, b, 194g-l 
 277a, 313 
 
 4e, 44b, e, f, i, 250 
 (18 68, 299 
 
 
 2 
 
 CORINTHIANS. 
 
 1. 16 
 
 .57-65, 186 
 
 14. 19 
 1.5. 1, 2 
 
 
 1. 4,5 
 
 13. .Wb, 66f-g, 170f, 190, 
 
 1. 17 
 
 170a, 240 
 
 15. 4 
 
 
 
 191, 192c-m, 194j, k 
 
 1. 18-32 
 
 54c 
 
 15! 13, 32 
 
 132a h. 134<r-l 
 
 
 2. 15, 16 
 
 153n 
 
 1. 19, 20 
 1. 21, 22 
 
 185c, d, e 
 207 
 
 15. 19,24,25 258 
 15. 30 IM'' 
 
 
 2. 17 
 
 3. 12 
 
 260 
 259 
 
 1. 21, 28 
 
 213 
 
 16. 6 
 
 41 
 
 
 3. 18 
 
 194d 
 
 1. 28, 32 
 
 132k 
 
 
 4. 2 
 
 30a, b, c, lOlf, 144i>, 
 
 1.28-32 
 
 83b, 358 
 
 1 COB TNT HI A NS. 
 
 
 
 153a, 260 
 
 1. 29-31 
 
 272-276b, 318f 
 
 
 
 
 4. 3, 4 
 
 32, 114, 213 
 
 2. 4,5 
 
 31, 126, .367 
 
 1. 7,8 
 
 238 
 
 
 4. 7 
 
 227 
 
 2. 7 
 
 311 
 
 1. 10 
 
 134a 
 
 
 4. 8 
 
 13, 14, 190-192 
 
 2. 12 
 
 268 
 
 1. 12 
 
 193a, e, f 
 
 
 4. 8-12 
 
 284c, 285 
 
 2. 14, 15 
 
 30a-€, 276b. 288a, i, o, r 
 
 1. 17 
 
 2.59 
 
 
 4. 15 
 
 188 
 
 2. 16 
 
 120a, 238, 351a-c 
 
 1.21 
 
 263 
 
 
 5. 1 
 
 118, 119, 172 
 
 3. 1,2 
 
 54, 60a, c, f, i 
 
 1. 23, 24 
 
 81b, 186 
 
 
 5. 7 
 
 66f, g, 170f, «5nr , 
 
 3. 3, 5, 7 
 
 349,350 
 
 7. 25-29 
 
 227 
 
 
 5. 8 
 
 118, 119, 122e 
 
 3. 16 
 
 180-182 
 
 1. 27-29 
 
 79, 388, 389, 391, 
 
 393, 
 
 5. 10 
 
 2.38 
 
 3. 19, 20 
 
 170d, 256, 276d, 365 
 
 
 396, 397 
 
 
 5. 11 
 
 17a, 153a, 360 
 
 3. 25, 26 
 
 4. 4, 5, 24 
 
 240 
 
 2. 1, 4, 13 
 
 259 
 
 
 5. 12 
 
 204(1 
 
 
 2. 2 
 
 186 
 
 
 5. 14, 15 
 
 28, 38-47, 195e, 248, 219 
 
 25 
 
 172, 240 
 
 2. 9 
 
 194k 
 
 
 5. 17 
 
 223e 
 
 4. 17 
 
 227 
 
 2. 12, 13 
 
 54, 55a, p, 60a, c 
 
 f-i, 
 
 5. 18 
 
 257 
 
 4. 20, 21 
 
 171. 172 
 
 
 195a, 237d, e 
 
 
 5 18, 19 
 
 28gh, 170, 240, 363 
 
 5. 1, 2, 10 200. 240 1 
 
 2. 14 
 
 ]3-2g. h, j, 1, m 
 164b, 195, 3.33, 334 
 
 
 5. 20 
 
 153f 
 
 5. 3,4 
 
 13, 14, 66f, g, 80c, 190, 
 
 3. 6 
 
 
 5. 21 
 
 218, 240 
 
 
 191, 192c-m 
 
 3. 22, 23 
 
 118, 119, 250c 
 
 
 6. 2 
 
 128, 439a 
 
 5. 5 
 
 194, 195, 200 
 
 4.1,2 
 
 144b, 258-260, 262 
 
 
 6. 4 
 
 311, 285 
 
 5. 7 
 
 37 
 
 4. 7 
 
 132e, g 
 
 
 6. 10 
 
 13, 50b, c, 374i 
 
 5. 8 
 
 186 
 
 4. 12, 13 
 
 21d, 155, 175, 176, 
 
 210, 
 
 6 14 
 
 253b-f 
 
 5. 10 
 
 28.363 
 
 
 254, 401 
 
 
 7. 4 
 
 190, 191, 192c-m, 194j, k 
 
 5. 11 
 
 192a, b, 194g-l 
 
 5. 7,8 
 
 86f 
 
 
 7. 9, 11 
 
 366, 373 
 
 6. 11 
 
 100 
 
 5. 11 
 
 207, 229-236, 269, 
 
 300, 
 
 7. 11 
 
 22.3e 
 
 6. 12 
 
 230-234, 251 
 
 
 402a, c 
 
 
 8. 2 
 
 39, 41ce, 286a-g, k, 1, m. 
 
 6. 16 
 
 230 
 
 6. 1 
 
 244a, b, c. e, f 
 
 
 
 P. q, t, y 
 
 6. 21 
 
 125 
 
 6. 5 
 
 134c 
 
 
 8. 11 
 
 42 
 
 6. 23 
 
 240 
 
 6. 7 
 
 291-294 
 
 
 8. 21 
 
 197, 198, 228 
 
 7. 8 
 
 132f 
 
 6. 9, 10 
 
 207, 229-236, 260, 
 
 300, 
 
 9. 6 
 
 45-47, 123b, 282 
 
 7. 23 
 
 230 
 
 
 402a, c 
 
 
 9. 7 
 
 286 
 
 8. 7 
 
 132, 213, 424, 427e 
 
 6. 11 
 
 26a. 281, 162b, 240, 
 
 277, 
 
 9. 11, 12 
 
 188 
 
 8. 15 
 
 221, 222. 240, 249 
 
 
 278 
 
 
 10. 4, 5 
 
 30a-e,57-65,74,75,195, 
 
 8. 17 
 
 172j 
 
 6. 20 
 
 100, 195e 
 
 
 
 263, 277-279 
 
 8. 28 
 
 I76f, 192e 
 
 7. 3 
 
 % g, 241 
 
 
 10. 10 
 
 193a-f 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 CORINTHIANS.— Continued. 
 . V. Aiiecdotes. 
 
 •23-27 250a, b, 28.) 
 
 9 122], 190, 191 
 
 10 13b, 14a, b, ()6f, «, 170f, 
 
 190, 191,192c-m, 194j, 
 
 k, 315b 
 142, 2.)8, 262 
 108, 339a, d, f, g 
 100, 166, 197 
 247, 213 
 
 GALATIANS. 
 
 19oe 
 
 112, 2G0 
 
 54, 55a, g, GOa. c-f, i, 
 195a, 237d, e 
 
 170, 194h, 240, 256 * 
 
 195e 
 
 240 
 
 170a, c, 250 
 
 28a, 195e 
 
 185a 
 
 l-20e 
 
 207, 269, 300 
 
 42, 262, 235, 286, 441 
 
 112, 173, 175f, 285f, i, 
 403b, d 
 
 38, 39, 250, 286, 362e 
 
 251 
 
 18,20,27,29,31,32,79, 
 87, 115, 132, 141, 147, 
 163, 177, 180-182, 229- 
 234, 246, 288, 309, 424 
 
 13, 14, 71, 72b, 92, 93, 
 154-162,169-172,192a, 
 b, 194g-l, 235, 254 
 
 146a, b, f 
 
 254 
 
 38-47, 71, 72b, 260, 262, 
 282, 286, 387-399,414- 
 420, 428, 441 
 
 14, 15 
 16 
 
 4 
 10 
 11, 12 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 6 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 20 
 
 18 
 
 1 
 
 14 
 16 
 19-21 
 
 22-25 
 
 6. 1 
 6. 9, 10 
 
 2 
 
 6,7 
 
 23 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3-5,8, 
 
 13 
 
 7 
 12 
 
 260, 
 
 4. 1,2 
 
 3 
 
 4,5 
 
 11-13 
 
 16 
 
 17-19 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 22 24 
 
 25,'28,33 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 5-9 
 10, 13 
 
 12 
 14 
 
 EPHESIANS. 
 
 81 
 
 28,240 
 
 297 
 
 195 
 
 400 
 
 132, 170d, 194h, 195, 
 
 240. 256 
 81a, 82, 240 
 257 
 112, 169-172, 240, 
 
 279c, e 
 86b, 101, 166, 175, 176, 
 
 204, 254, 401 
 247 
 168 
 257 
 249c 
 83b, 212, 213, 268-276, 
 
 356, 358 
 139b, 141, 252 
 21a, b 
 
 243, 278e, 279b 
 32a, b, 33b, 127, 196 
 21,91,93,247f,407d,e,k, 
 202, 241, 242 
 247 
 105a 
 
 29a, c, e, j, 1, 246, 374 
 88c, 101, 166 
 la, 112k, 260, 368-372, 
 
 386 
 239-2.36 
 
 289a, b, c, j 
 
 188, 192c-f, j-m 
 
 241b, d, e 
 
 7c, f, 241a, c 
 
 296 
 
 53e. 135-139, 197j, 224b, 
 
 438c 
 404b, c, d 
 173, 260, 175f, 285f, i, 
 
 403b, d 
 400 
 166, 197, 228, 239, 240, 
 
 430 
 
 EPHESIANS.— Continued. 
 Ch. V. Anecdvtes. 
 
 0. 16 169-172, 240 
 
 6. 15 21, 149, 154-162, 175, 
 
 176, 254, 291-294, 313, 
 
 437b, c 
 6. 17 53 I, 57-65, 195a 
 6. 18 136, 323, 324b, 399c 
 6. 19 193e 
 6. 24 248 
 
 PHILIPPIANS. 
 
 9 247, 248 
 
 20 112, 260 
 
 21 • 118, 119, 250c 
 23 122e, 248e 
 25 192a, b, 194g-I, 240 
 27, 28 105a, 173, 175f, 247,285f, 
 
 i, 403b, d 
 1M7 
 
 146a, b, f, 194b. 204 
 87f- 
 
 1 THESSALONIANS.-Contin'd. 
 
 1,2 
 3 
 5 
 2. 9, 10, 11 81, 427a 
 
 2. 30 36 
 
 3. 1 50c, 88c, 107f 
 3. 7, 8 192 1 
 
 3. 9 240, 256 
 
 3. 17 101 166, 412h 
 
 3. 18 111b, e, 209 
 
 3. 19 230, 251a, b 
 
 3. 20 87f, 105c. d 
 
 4. 1 173, 175f, 263, 403b, d 
 4. 4 50c, 88c, 107f, 190, 191, 
 
 192c-in, 194j, k 
 
 4. 6 23a, 30, 76b, \m, 411 
 
 4. 7 66d, 119h 
 
 4. 8 154-162, 197, 201, 202, 
 
 228, 239 
 
 4. 11, 12 103 
 
 4. 14 38-47, 346 
 
 COLOSSIANS. 
 
 1. 5, 27 191m, 200 
 
 1. 10 71,88,106-110, 142,441 
 
 1. 11 175, 192a, b, 194g-I, 311 
 
 1. 13 277i 
 
 1. 14 28, 240 
 
 1. 20 170, 240 
 
 1. 21 363 
 
 1. 23 173, 17.5f, 285f, i, 403b, d 
 
 2. 5-7 173, 175f, 285f, i, 403b, d 
 2. 7 189 
 
 2. 8 213, 299, 309, 424, 427 
 
 2. 21 2a, c, 229 
 
 3. 2 120g, h, j, 122c, 199 
 
 3. 5 4c, 21, 29, 48, 14(1, 147- 
 
 149, 163, 246 
 
 3. 9 139b, 252. 311 
 
 3. 10 87f, 166, 404b, d 
 
 3. 12 86b, 154-162, 201, 202, 
 
 204,241,242 
 
 3. 13 8a, 90-93, 154-162, 175, 
 
 176 
 
 3. 14 247, 250 
 
 3, 16 289a, b, c, j 
 
 3. 18, 19 7, 241 
 
 3. 20 143, 296 
 
 3. 22-24 404b, c, d 
 
 3.25 116, 143, 145c, 182, 252 
 
 4. 2 145a, 188, 323 
 4. 5 14i;b 
 
 4. 12, 13 262, 285, 286, 441 
 
 5. 14, 15 247 
 
 1 THESSALONIANS. 
 
 1. 2 188, 331-334 
 
 1. 6 192a, b, 194g-l 
 
 2. 3-5 174, 260 
 2. 7 254, 372a 
 
 2. 10 101, 166,228.239 
 
 2. 13 54, 60a, c-f, i, 195a, 
 237d, e 
 
 2. 19 
 
 263 
 
 3. 5 
 
 229 
 
 3. 9 
 
 188, 279j 
 
 3. 10 
 
 323 
 
 3. 12 
 
 3fr-47, 247, 250, 286, 441 
 
 4. 6 
 
 141, 180-182, 278e, 279b 
 
 Ch. V. 
 4. 8 
 4. 9, 10 
 4. 11 
 4. 12 
 
 5. 16 
 
 5. 18 
 5. 17 
 5. 19 
 
 5. 22 
 
 5. 27 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 195 
 
 84a, 247 
 
 41. 210, 243 
 
 197, 2-28, 239 
 
 32a-d, f, 121c, e, f, 406a 
 
 131d, e, g 
 
 169-172, 119m, 200, 247, 
 
 248 
 260, 311, 368-372, 386 
 154-162, 175, 176, 241, 
 
 242, 254, 291-294, 313 
 
 13, 50c, ll8e, 119, 192a, 
 b, 194g-l 
 
 14, 188 
 
 23a, 58a, 136, 323, 324b 
 32a, b, 33b, 127, 196, 
 
 365a, 367 
 3. 76a, 146b, 229, 233c 
 68, 299 
 
 2 THESSALONIANS. 
 
 1. 5 
 1. 6 
 
 1. 7, 8, 9 
 
 2. 3,9 
 2. 4 
 
 2. 10-12 
 
 3. 10-12 
 
 1. 14 
 
 1. 15 
 
 1. 17 
 
 1. 19 
 
 2. 2 
 2. 6 
 2. 8 
 
 2. 9 
 
 3. 2,3 
 
 3. 11 
 
 4. 2 
 
 4. 3,4 
 
 4. 8 
 
 4. 10 
 
 4. 13 
 
 6. 11 
 
 6. 17, 18 
 6. 20 
 
 4 
 5 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 14,23 
 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 2-5 
 
 6,8 
 15 
 
 889 
 
 194e 
 
 316 
 
 268, 360, 424 
 
 305 
 
 298 
 
 213, 299-310, 358a, 402 
 
 35, 206d, e, 243 
 
 1 TIMOTHY. 
 
 248 
 
 2He, 132c, 170d, e, 194b 
 
 164a, 185a, b 
 
 2o, 33a, b, 98, 99, 228, 
 
 239, 382, 389a, d 
 197 
 
 28i, 81a 
 
 30a-e, 320, 326b 
 146, 248d,337j,k, 403a 
 3f, 135a, 142, 201, 250, 
 
 311 
 7h 
 
 99, .309, 356, 358 
 188 
 
 83e, h, 217d, 379-381 
 2G4a 
 
 151, 210d, 2581 
 2.58, 262 
 263 
 
 3-22, 323, 327 
 31, 358 
 11a, 210,243 
 258, 262 
 
 101c. 2.57b, 421, 423 
 404b, c, d 
 104a, b, 265b 
 103,1921,378-381 
 121d, g, 194c, 429c, e 
 103a, b, c 
 
 29, 48, 145c, 267, 374 
 228, 239, 247, 248, 254, 
 
 377, 401d 
 38, 374h 
 104, 105a, 264b 
 
 5 TIMOTHY. 
 
 192a, b, 194g-l 
 
 135, 136, 224b, 229e, 287 
 
 61e, 186, 194h, 240, 256 
 
 172d 
 
 28f 
 
 173, 175f,285f,i, 403b, d 
 
 26 
 
 194e 
 
 151. 258 1, 259, 260 
 
 105a 
 
 104a, b, 0, f, 265b 
 
 3, 4, 235, 247, 250, 251a, 
 
 155, 204, 259, 311, 372a, 
 
 401d 
 17a, 21 d, 2.54. 401d 
 2.30. 235d, 400 
 18, 29, 48, 73, 143, 205, 
 
 218f, 2-26, 246, 251 
 213, 309, 424 
 51-65, 287, 299 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 2 TIMOTHY.-Cantinued. 
 
 HEBREWS.— Continued. 
 
 1 PETER.— Continued. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 3. 16, 17 
 
 .54-09.726, ]93a,:J87-n99 
 
 12. 9 
 
 135-137, 315, 316 
 
 2. 19,20 
 
 175, 176, 311 
 
 4. 1 
 
 23B, ;^51b, c 
 
 12. 10, 11 
 
 13, 14, 50, 66r, g, 80c 
 
 2. 21 
 
 218 
 
 4.2,5 
 
 144b, 260, 2r)2, 2G3a,3'o8- 
 
 12. 14 
 
 175, 176, 254, 313 
 
 2. 24 
 
 81a 
 
 
 372, 3,-^rt 
 
 13. 1 
 
 84a, 247 
 
 3. 3 
 
 146a, f, 254, 337j,k,403a 
 
 4. 3,4 
 
 213, 2t)r!-310, 424-427 
 
 13. 3 
 
 38, 43a, b, 62a 
 
 3. 7 
 
 7a, h, 241a, c 
 
 4. 6-8 
 
 11211, 118,200,2380,240, 
 
 13. 4 
 
 368a 
 
 3. 8,9 
 
 8a. 17a, 21. 113, 155, 
 
 
 250c 
 
 13.5 
 
 29, 103d, e,f,122j, 145c, 
 
 
 1.56-175, 202, 247, 401 
 
 4. 10 
 
 374a 
 
 
 192i, 346 
 
 3. 10, 11 
 
 45-47, 175, 178, 252. 313, 
 
 
 
 13. 16 
 
 47, 71, 72b, 74, 75, 286, 
 
 
 379-381 
 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 
 317, 389b, c, e, 428, 
 
 3. 12 
 
 .5na, 331-334, 412d 
 
 1.7-9 
 
 2f, 21,76a, 191,201,228, 
 239, 2.54 
 
 13. 18 
 
 441 
 33a, c, e. f, 98, 193b, 
 
 3. 16 
 
 33a, c,e,f, 98,228,239. 
 260ni, 382, 389a, d, 
 
 
 
 197, 228, 239, 382, 
 
 
 407a, b, c. j 
 195e, 240a, 256f. i 
 
 1. 13 
 
 260, 36S-.372 
 
 
 389a, d 
 
 3. 18 
 
 1. 15 
 
 99, 356, 358 
 
 13. 17 
 
 262 
 
 4. 3,4 
 
 207, 230-232, 251, 269, 
 
 2. 4 
 
 7b, d, e, g, 241b, d, e. 
 
 
 
 
 300, 309 
 
 
 311 
 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 •4.5 
 
 238b, 351b, c 
 
 2. 8 
 2. 9, 10 
 
 lOle, 407a, b, c, f, j 
 404b, c, d 
 
 1. 2 
 
 192c, e-k, 1941, k 
 
 4. 7 
 4. 8 
 4. 9 
 4. 11 
 4. 13, 14 
 
 118, 320-334 
 247 
 201 
 
 54, 195a, 237d, e, 260 
 84b, d, e, f, 192c, e, k, 
 ra, 315b 
 
 194b, ^.56h, 1, 352i 
 18b, c, 146c, 204, 247g, 
 337c, h, i 
 67e, 173, 285f, i, 400, 
 403b, d 
 
 2. 12 
 
 2. 13 
 2. 14 
 
 2, 3, 228, 235, 239, 251, 
 
 377 
 194, 238 
 195e, 428, 441 
 
 1. 3 
 1. 4 
 1. 5-7 
 1. 8 
 
 13, 14, 311 
 311 
 
 320,322 
 32d 
 
 2. 15 
 
 3. 1 
 3. 2 
 
 368-372 
 
 42, 428, 441 
 
 134a, 254, 407d, e, k 
 
 1. 9, 10 
 1. 11 
 1. 15 
 
 204d 
 
 120g-j, 374b 
 132a 
 
 4. 18 
 
 5. 5 
 
 3. 3 
 3. 5 
 
 20, 162b. 163, 402 
 
 61e, 170d, 194h, 195, 256 
 
 1. 18 
 1. 19 
 
 58-65 
 
 21, 78, 175, 254 
 
 5. 8, 9 
 
 3. 6 
 
 186 
 
 1. 21 
 
 85, 193a, e, f 
 
 
 3. 9 
 
 104a, b, c, f, 265b 
 
 1. 23, 24 
 
 48b, c, 264c 
 
 
 
 
 
 1. 27 
 
 391, 44j, 346a, 389g 
 
 
 2 PETER. 
 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 2.5 
 
 14d, 39, 41c, e, 60a, f, h. 
 
 1. 4 
 
 66c, 172h 
 
 4 
 
 188, 323, 327 
 
 2.8 
 
 353 
 239, 250, 362c, 286, 377 
 
 1. 5 
 1. 6 
 1. 7 
 
 68, 169-172 
 2-4, 235, 311 
 
 5 
 
 169-172, 147-150 
 
 2. 13 
 
 116, 316 
 
 36-47, 241, 242, 247 
 
 11 
 
 404 
 
 2. 14,17,26 48, 105a, llle, 209 
 
 1. 12, 15 
 
 200b, c, 255 
 
 la 
 
 184 
 
 2. 15-17 
 
 48c, d, 101c, 104a, b, f. 
 
 1. 19-21 
 
 54. 60. 237d. e. 299 
 
 
 HEBREWS. 
 
 2. 18.21,2 
 
 202d 
 2 
 
 2. 1 427 
 2. 2, 14, 15 309 
 
 1. 1 
 
 54, 55a, g, 60 
 
 24 
 
 "'lOla, b, 166, 193b 
 
 2. 4 
 
 425f 
 
 1. 2 
 
 81, 237d, e, 427a 
 
 2. 19 
 
 185a 
 
 2. 18, 19 
 
 215, 216, 230, 309, 424 
 
 1. 8 
 
 8] 164a 
 
 2. 23 
 
 240 
 
 2. 20-22 
 
 26a-e. h, 225e, 4U6a 
 
 2. 1 
 
 68. 69 
 
 3. 5 
 
 148b, 407g 
 
 3. 3, 4 
 
 54e, 214. 215, 424 
 
 2. 9 
 
 28i 
 
 3. 17 
 
 3, 21, 36-47, 54g, 71, 
 
 3. 7 
 
 2;}8. 351b, c 
 
 2. 14, 15 
 
 172, 118-121, 200 
 
 
 83a-d, f, h,i, j, 90-93, 
 
 3. 11, 12 
 
 105c, d, 166, 228, 238. 
 
 3. 4 
 
 185c-e 
 
 
 101,106-110, 142, 154- 
 
 
 239b, c, 351b, c 
 
 3. 12 
 
 213 
 
 
 162, 175, 176,201, 202, 
 
 3. 16 
 
 85, 104f, 42.5e 
 
 3. 13 
 
 15c, 31, 32, 127, .%7 
 
 
 228,239,241,242,250, 
 
 3. 17 
 
 51b, 173, 285f, i, 403b, d 
 
 4. 12 
 
 30a-e, 54 j, 57-65, 83c, 
 
 
 254,286,291-294,364. 
 
 
 
 
 87e, 183, 2601, 414- 
 420 
 
 4. 1 
 
 428, 441 
 431-437 
 
 
 1 JOHN. 
 
 4 13 
 
 297 
 
 4. 3,8 
 
 50, 136, 320-324, 330a, 
 
 1. 7 
 
 28b, h, i, 169d, 186c, d 
 
 4. 16 
 
 28i, 30a-e, 162a, 169- 
 
 
 b, 331-334 
 
 1. 9 
 
 90-93 
 
 
 172, 320, 331-334 
 
 4. 4 132 
 
 
 2. 1 
 
 80d, 304 
 
 5. 2 
 
 43a, b 
 
 4. 6 
 
 18b. c, 146c, 204, 247g, 
 
 2. 2 
 
 28a, g, h 
 
 5. 9 
 
 164b, c, 119q 
 
 15c, 32. 126, 127, 196, 
 
 
 337c, h, i 
 
 2. 10 
 
 247 
 
 6. 4,6 
 
 4. 7 
 
 192k, 321, 409 
 
 2. 15 
 
 26, 29, 76c 
 
 
 365a, 367. 406 
 
 4. 11 
 
 407d, e, k 
 
 3. 2 
 
 204i 
 
 6. 8 
 
 121, 222, 426 
 
 4. 14 
 
 18a, 128, 194c, 199, 319, 
 
 3. 5 
 
 28h, i, 81a, 82 
 
 6. 10, 11 
 
 42 
 
 
 429 
 
 3. 7 
 
 101, 193b, 209 
 
 6. 12 
 
 169-172, 311 
 
 5, 5 
 
 358 
 
 3. 8 
 
 400 
 
 G. 18, 19 
 
 66, 118, 119, 170, 194, 
 
 5. 6 
 
 254, 291-294, 316 
 
 3. 11,12,14- 
 
 
 200,238c 
 
 5. 10, 11 
 
 13, 14, 50, 66a, b, f, g, 
 
 19, 23 247 
 
 7. 6 
 
 40 
 
 
 173, 285f, i, 311 
 
 3. 13 
 
 132d, h, k, m 
 
 7, 25 
 
 80d, 169, 186c, 187,242b, 
 
 5. 12 
 
 73, 338-340 
 
 3. 15 
 
 20, 132d, 288 
 
 
 304 
 
 5. 16 
 
 30, 50a, 90-93, 136, 322, 
 
 3. 17, 18 
 
 48, 202d 
 
 9. 22 
 
 28a, 187c 
 
 
 330a, b, 331-334 
 
 3. 20 
 
 95, 96, 273, 297 
 
 9. 27 
 
 238, 351b, 
 
 
 
 3. 22 
 
 331 
 
 10. 22 
 
 320 
 
 
 1 PETER. 
 
 4. 7, 8, 11 
 
 
 10. 23 
 
 67e,173,175f,285f,403b, 
 
 1.7 
 
 13, 14, 50, 112, 173, 1941, 
 
 20, 21 247 
 
 
 d 
 
 
 k, 311 
 
 4. 8 
 
 48, 132d 
 
 10. 26, 27 
 
 26a,c, d,h,32, 33b,127, 
 
 1.8 
 
 50c, 53a, 86a, 118e, 119, 
 
 4. 9, 10 
 
 28d, g, 186b, 240 
 
 
 196, 406a 
 
 
 192a, b, 240 
 
 4. 19 
 
 186, 248, 249 
 
 10. 31 
 
 32, 120, 121, 222, 237f, 
 
 1. 14 
 
 268-276 
 
 4. 21 
 
 77, 247 
 
 
 426, 427e 
 
 1. 16-19 
 
 405a 
 
 5. 3 
 
 23, 132 i 
 
 10.36 
 
 311 
 
 I. 18, 19 
 
 195e, 256 
 
 5. 4 
 
 172, 195, 240 
 
 10. 38 
 
 26b, 170a, 240 
 
 1. 22 
 
 84a, 247 
 
 5. 13 
 
 427 
 
 11. 1-32 
 
 169-172, 240 
 
 1. 23 
 
 58-65 
 
 5. 16 
 
 73c, e, j, m, 196, 40Ca 
 
 11.4 
 
 224 
 
 1. 24 
 
 18a, 194e, 199, 429 
 
 
 
 11. 6 
 
 320 
 
 2. 1, 12 
 
 163, 252, 407d, e, k 
 
 
 2 JOHN. 
 
 11. 16 ' 
 
 119u, 1941 
 
 2.2 
 
 68.299 
 
 1,5 
 2,6 
 10 
 
 247 
 
 101, 166 
 80d 
 
 11. 23, 27 
 
 112, 173, 175f, 260, 279c 
 
 2. 7 
 
 169-172, 240, 248 
 
 11. 24 
 
 403 
 
 2. 8 
 
 153n. 427e 
 
 11. 25 
 
 374g 
 
 2. 9, 10, 15 10 le 1 
 
 11. 27 
 
 153f 
 
 2. 11 
 
 235, 2.51 
 
 
 3 JOHN. 
 
 11. 36-38 
 
 298, 303, 310 
 
 2. 12 
 
 83f, 166 
 
 
 12. 1 
 
 284e, 311 
 
 2. 17 
 
 a4a, 247 
 
 1.2 
 
 247 
 
 12. 2 
 
 169-172; 405a 
 
 890 
 
 2. 18 
 
 404b, c, d 
 
 3 
 
 101, 166 
 
SCRIPTURAL INDEX. 
 
 3 JOHN;.— Continued. 
 Jinecdotes. 
 201 
 142 
 337g 
 
 JUDE. 
 
 4 
 
 
 3,)9 
 
 424 
 
 
 6, 7, 13 
 
 238, 
 
 360, 
 
 425f 
 
 7 
 
 
 164b, c 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 29a 
 
 48. 
 
 301 
 
 16, 
 
 18 
 
 213, 
 
 230-234, 
 
 
 
 424 
 
 
 25 
 
 
 81, 
 
 427a 
 
 
 
 REVELATION. 
 
 REVELATION.— Continued. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Ch. V. 
 
 
 Jinecdotes. 
 
 1. 3 
 
 66, 63, 69, 299 
 
 17. 14 
 
 
 8(!d 
 
 1. 8 
 
 185b 
 
 20. 6 
 
 
 194e 
 
 2.24 
 
 400 
 
 20. 10 
 
 
 360 
 
 3. 17 
 
 29k,1, 120g-i. 12Jd, g,267 
 
 20. 12, 
 
 13 
 
 238 
 
 4. 8 
 
 1191 
 
 21. 8 
 
 
 26. 207, 246c, 252, 269, 
 
 5. 9 
 
 82, 195e, 240, 256 
 
 
 
 2.S8, 300, 305 
 
 5. 10 
 
 194e 
 
 21. 27 
 
 
 1941 
 
 7. 12 
 
 188 
 
 22. 4 
 
 
 248e 
 
 12. 11 
 
 248a, 173a, b, c, e, g, 
 
 22. 5 
 
 
 194d, e, j 
 
 
 175f, 285, 403b, d 
 
 22. 11 
 
 
 360 
 
 13. 15 
 
 293, 303, 315, 316 
 
 22. 15 
 
 
 207, 246c, 252, 269, 288, 
 
 14. 13 
 
 118, 119, 280 
 
 
 
 300. 305 
 
 16. 14 
 
 305 
 
 22. 17 
 
 
 406b 
 
 17. 6 
 
 298,303 
 
 5S. 18, 
 
 ID 
 
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