tears. The captain took his hand, pressed it, and said, "Sir, I have not slept a wink since I saw you; I abused you yesterday; I am now come to ask your pardon. I did, while on that plank, vow to God, that I would live differently from what I ever had done; and, by God's nelp, from this time forward, I am determined to do so." The captain could not proceed; they pressed each other's hands, and parted, probably to meet no more in this world.

Thomas Paine.

AN elder of a Presbyterian church in the city of New York, visited Paine a few days before his death. He was then a loathsome and pitiable object. His face, and particularly his nose, was greatly swollen and changed, by liquor, unto 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 be damned." "What is 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 vehemence, "Away with your popish nonsense." The very name of Jesus Christ convulsed him with anger. The woman attending him, informed the visitor that he was occasionally visited by persons of like principles and habits with himself, and that his orders were to keep out of his room all who professed any respect for religion. She said that he was a wretched man. That when alone, he kept groaning day and night, as if in great distress of mind. She once told him, that his groans so disturbed ner, that she could not rest; when he replied, "I have no rest myself, nor shall you have."

Thus Paine died an object of the most inconceivable filthiness and wretchedness. His expressions thus authenticated, and here recorded, breathe the spirit of pure infidelity. They are worthy the degraded being who uttered them. He, then, esteemed the gospel "popish nonsense;" but does he thus esteem it now? He might have had au

enviable fame. But he warred against the Bible and its God, and has fallen in the unequal contest. His memory now must rot. A thick cloud of shame is gathering around it, which can never be dissipated. He is now thought of with horror by all the good; and he will soon be thus esteemed by all the world.

The Fountain Head.

THE ancestors of a certain noble Scottish Duke, were of the Roman Catholic persuasion; and the family continued so until a comparatively recent period. The following curious anecdote is related of the last surviving head of the family; and the circumstance is believed by many, to have been chiefly instrumental in bringing about a change in his religious opinions. The nobleman in question possessed very extensive estates in the northern part of Scotland; the management of which was intrusted chiefly to the race of various stewards, or, as they are called, factors; notwithstanding which, he resided upon them personally, the greater part of his time, and was considered, on all hands, as a liberal gentleman and a kind landlord. A tenant of his, who indeed might be called a sort of relative, as his forefathers had lived during several generations on the land-unfortunately through inadvertence and ignorance, broke one of the covenants of his tack or lease, of no importance in itself, yet sufficient to entitle the landlord to eject the occupant. Upon being informed of the mischief he had committed, and of the fatal consequences that might ensue to himself and family, he repaired to one of the "factors," and without attempting to palliate the offence, save that it was unconsciously done, he begged the steward's good office at the castle, that he might have the lease renewed at a small fine. The steward being either rigorous in his duty, or having another to serve, declined to interfere, and bade the poor man prepare to abide the issue of his indiscretion.

Sorely dismayed, but not in utter despair, he tried another and another factor, but still received the same kind of answer. Half frantic at his ill success, but de

termined not to yield to his fate, while there was the least glimmering of hope, he resolved, at length, to apply personally to the noble peer. He repaired to the castle, humbly requested an audience, which was kindly granted. The poor man told his honest tale, without a gloss or an attempt to excuse; he merely urged that he was poor, and with a large family; that the broken clause was one of which he did not even know the existence; that he had besought in vain, the favor from the factors, of its being represented to their principal; and that to be turned out from the place where he was born, with all his family, would be utter ruin to them, and heart-breaking to himself. The benevolent gentleman rejoiced the desponding farmer's heart, by informing him that he should remain; and being struck with some of his remarks, he directed that he should receive refreshment, after which, he wished to have some further conversation with him.

With renovated spirits, he joined his landlord again, who, being curious to draw out the sentiments of this poor, but shrewd man, showed him all parts of the castle, within and without. Among other places, they went into his chapel, which was beautifully enriched with windows of stained glass, and other ornaments used in the popish churches. Upon the farmer's asking what were the figures in the painting, and on the windows, ne was informed that they represented the blessed saints and martyrs of the Church. "A weel," said the farmer, "and what for, an't please your lordship, are sae mony o' them put i' ae place." The peer replied, "that they were intended to quicken the spirit of devotion in religious breasts, and that they were intercessors at the throne of Divine grace, for sinners on earth, who appealed through them." The honest Scotchman sighed and shook hi head; which the nobleman perceiving, demanded what moved him. "Ah, my gude lord," replied he, "it does na belang to the likes o' me to meddle or mak in sic like matters." Being, however, urged, at length, the man replied, "A weel, my lord, I can na but think that a' the saunts i' your lordship's chapel, are, sae to speak, a wee like your ain factors. I got nae gude frae nane o' them. but a blessed help when I came to the fountain-head;

an' if it please your lordship, I canna but think that there's a muckle chance o' a gracious reply frae the Lord above himself, as ye'll get thro' a' the saunts i' the calendar." The noble peer, it is said, was so struck with the apposite remark, that he immediately turned his thoughts seriously to the examination of the faith he was professing, which ended in the renunciation of its tenets, and adopting the principles of the reformed Church.

Temperance Anecdote.

It is related of a clergyman, distinguished alike for his eloquence and exemplary piety, that having an appointment to preach in a certain village, he stopped on Saturday evening at the house of one of his early acquaintances, who was a resident of the village. To his surprise, he found his old friend, a distiller and vender of ardent spirits, and exceedingly bitter against the temperance cause. He could not refrain all the evening, from giving vent to his feelings, against all the temperance men, and every temperance movement. The next day the preacher took his text from Jonah, "Dost thou well to be angry?" He showed what good was doing in the days in which we live, and especially in the temperance cause; how that cause was drying up the founts of pauperism, and crime, and brutality; saving thousands on thousands from the drunkards path, and restoring many a lost man to society and his family; transforming the most degraded and abject beings in the community, into useful, respectable and wealthy citizens. And as he enumerated one blesssing after another, he would cast his eye down. upon his friend, and ask, "Dost thou well to be angry?" It was more than the poor man could bear; shame and confusion were his. He hid his face from the congregation, and as soon as possible made his way from the church, and from that day no man has been a stronger advocate for the temperance reform, or made greater pecuniary sacrifices in its behalf. He will be rewarded a thousand fold, we doubt not, by an approving conscience, through life and in death, and the blessing of Providence

will smile upon his children to the third and fourth gen eration.

Neglect of Family Prayer.

Ir family prayer is neglected, how dreadful must be the influence upon the minds of your children. This neglect is to them a constant and powerful declaration, that you deem religion emptiness, and a life of prayer unnecessary. The exhortation of their minister or Sabbath school teacher has perhaps arrested their attention and softened their feelings. They go to their prayerless homes, and meet their prayerless father. The evening comes and there is no prayer to fix and deepen the impression received. Your child goes to bed, saying to himself, "Father does not pray, why should I?" He awakes in the morning, but no morning prayer greets him. His worldly father hastens to the business of the day, and leaves his poor child in weakness and temptation, unsupported by parental precept or example. Nay more, he is lured by a father's example to banish serious thoughts, to grieve away the Spirit, and to plunge more recklessly into all the sins of a thoughtless and irreligious life. Oh, when that great day comes in which the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, how many parents will be found to be the spiritual murderers of their children! Professing Christians! how can you bear the thought of the reproaches of your lost child at the bar of God. Shall he be permitted to say "it was your neglect of duty which induced me to neglect religion and ruin my soul. And now in consequence, I must take up my abode in the eternal dungeon with eternal despair." Oh, if there be a prayerless father among my readers, let him look forward to the judgment, and think of the scenes he must then witness.

The Happy Miner.

"There's danger in the mines, old man," I said to an aged miner, with his arms bent, leaning against the side