of the money. With this, their interview, which had been continued for a considerable time, and withal a very serious one, was closed. About five months afterwards, the merchant put up again at the same public house, for the night; and before he retired to rest, began, as before, to distribute to each person present, a Tract. He observed a plain, but well dressed man, who seemed to be eyeing him with special interest, and who, when he approached him, said, "Did you never distribute Tracts here before, sir?" "Probably I have; I am not unfrequently distributing them." "Did you not, four or five months ago, give a Tract to a man here, who said he worked on the Sabbath?" The merchant replied, that he recollected the circumstance very well. "Well, sir," continued the other, "I am that man. I carried home the Tract you gave me (it was the Tract entitled, Subjects for Consideration, No. 46,') and told my wife every word of our conversation. She said you were right; and we sat down together, and she read the Tract aloud. So much affected were we with the Tract, and with what you had said, that we scarcely slept any all night. In the morning we rose; I went and procured a handful of wood, with which to get our breakfast, and after breakfast was over, we sat down and read the Tract again. Bye-and-bye, one of the neighbors came in, as was usual, to loiter away the day in vain conversation. We told him what had happened; he said you were right; and my wife read the tract again to him and myself. Other neighbors came in, and we did the same by them. They came again the next Sabbath, and we again read the tract to them; and now, sir, we have at my house, every Sabbath, a religious meeting; this Tract has been read every Sabbath since I saw you, and the reading of it is now accompanied with religious conversation and prayer!" "Well," said the merchant, "if you have kept your promise, you perhaps would be glad of your money: how much have I to pay?" "Oh, nothing, sir," replied the other, "I have never prospered so, as I have since I observed the Sabbath, to keep it holy. When I saw you before, we had no cownow we have a cow, and all our wants are comfortably supplied. We were never so happy before; and never can be thankful enough for what you have done for us " The landlord assured the merchant that he never had known such an alteration in a neighborhood, as had taken place n that, since he was last there. Before, the whole neighborhood spent their Sabbaths at work, or in visiting, fishing, hunting, and other amusements; but now they were seriously attentive to the subject of religion, and met every Sabbath for the worship of God. Reader, on looking round upon your neighborhood, cannot you discover some poor family, like the one above described, by whom the Sabbath is not observed, and who, you have reason to believe, are poor because it is not observed? And, passing by their wretched habitation, on your way to church on a Sabbath morning, did you never observe the children abroad, sauntering around, idle, wretched and apparently half famished? May be you have seen, at the same time, neighbors wending their way to this wretched house, to spend the day in idleness, and possibly in intemperance. Such persons are wont to lay in a double portion of the maddening poison on Saturday. These probably have done so. Does not the sight of such profanation of the day of God disturb you? Can you pass on, and not sigh over such wretchedness and guilt? Does not the condition of these poor children excite your sympathy? Now, had you put a few Tracts in your pocket, before leaving home, might you not, on this day of mercy to a dying world, have just stepped in and said, "neighbor, will you do me the favor to read this little pamphlet today?" or, you might hand one to the children and say "sit down and peruse it-or carry it to your mother, and sk her to read it to you." Lifting up your heart to God while so doing for his blessing-what a result might you not expect? You would pass on with a light and happy heart. You would enter the sanctuary with a new object in view-to pour out your soul in prayer, that that family might be met by the Spirit of God. Lifting up your voice, you would sing with unwonted joy-feeling that you had that morn ing done so. Go imitate the grace divine, The grace that blazes like a sun; Hold forth your fair, though feeble light, Possibly the action of the morning in its holy influence, might reach down to generations unborn. That mother's heart might be touched-that father, hard, and obdurate now, might himself, at length, yield to divine truththose children might become the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty. You might see them at no distant day, well dressed-well fed-happy-and as you passed on to the house of God, they might come forth, and walking with you, might whisper to your delighted soul, “We had rather be door-keepers in the house of God, than dwell in the tents of wickedness." Faith and Unbelief. Two negro women in Antigua, members of a religious society, but dead many years since, exhibited a remarkable contrast of faith and unbelief. One of these women had accumulated, for a person in her station, what might be considered much wealth; but she was haunted with such an apprehension of dying in want, that she was afraid of laying out money even for necessary food, and under various pretexts evaded paying the usual small contributions toward the support of religion in the society to which she belonged. One day, she brought to a friend a number of guineas, and told her that she must keep them for her, and when she came to lie down, not to let flies "nyam" her-meaning that when she was confined to a dying bed, some one must be employed to take care of her. Her friend asked her how she knew, that she should be confined to a bed of sickness previo is to her death, and advised her to make a proper use of her money, to dismiss all care of providing for an event, which might never happen, and to trust herself with Him, by whom the hairs of our head are all numbered. But she was deaf to this christian counsel, and continued anxious and careful about trifles. Complaining bitterly one day to the same friend of some insignificant 'oss, which she had suffered, while her faithful monitor was laboring to convince her of the impropriety of such complaints, the woman exclaimed, "Oh! my head!"fell down--and died shortly after! The other woman, a poor field negro, had a heart overflowing with the love of God and man. She might have been exempted, by pleading poverty, from paying her contributions to her society; but she thought it an honor to be allowed to contribute her mite to the support of religion. On one of the occasions, when she had to pay her contribution, she had but two "dogs" (of the value of three half-pence) in the world, and her children must be fed. She could not bear to withhold her trifle, nor could she leave her children unfed. Recollecting that she had a little corn, she sent one of her boys to grind it; and sent the other to pick a weed, which the negroes boil for food. Having prepared their suppers for them, she left them with a light heart, and proceeded to the estate, where she was to meet her friends. When she put down her two dogs," she raised her eyes to heaven, with these emphatic words-"Take it Massa! it is to you I give it!" In her way home, the next morning, she had to pass the house of a lady, who knew her. The lady seeing her, called out, "O Mary! I bought a quarter of pork of you so long ago, that I had quite forgotten it; how much was it?" Mary could not recollect the amount; but the lady, determined not to let her lose by it, gave her two dollars, and sent her to her housekeeper for some rice and salt pork to take home with her, to which the housekeeper added some flour and pork from herself. In relating this circumstance afterward, Mary remarked, that if we give God any thing, he does not pay us again as our fellow-creatures do, but gives us twice, and three times as much in return. This excellent christian has been heard, when praying with other females, to be so drawn out in love to her fellow-creatures, that when she could particularize no further, she has supplicated, in the warmth of her love for mankind, and with true sublimity of conception-that there might be "a full Heaven, and an empty Hell!" True Moral Courage. THE REV. Mr. Fletcher had a wild and profligate nepl.ew in the army, who had been dismissed from the Sardinian service, for very bad conduct. He had engaged in several duels, and had spent 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 moment 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 departed in high spirits, with his ill-gotten money. The ne In the evening, passing the door of his younger uncle, Mr. Fletcher, he called on him, and began with informing him, what General De Gons had done; and, as a proof, showed a draft under De Gons' own hand. Mr. Fletcher took the draft from his nephew, and looked at him with surprise. Then after some remarks putting it into his pocket, said, "It strikes me, young man, that you have possessed yourself of this note by some wrong method; and in conscience, I cannot return it, but with my brother's knowledge and approbation." phew's pistol was in a moment at his breast. "My life," replied Mr. Fletcher, with perfect calmness, "is secure in the 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 observation, "that his uncle De Gons, though an old soldier, was more afraid of death than his brother." "Afraid 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 you call yourself 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 presence of your Maker, who can in a moment kill your body, and forever punish your soul in Hell." |