Chapter L: Noble (3)

Another Joab will be found in the person of Rev. E. W. S. This man was a friend to the author while his own interest required him to be, and when _that_ interest changed, he became his enemy. The conduct of this man is enough to make humanity redden with shame. The meanness of his soul--the pollution of his heart, and the iniquity of his conduct, exhibit outlines of character, which I hope can find a prototype in no being but himself. Slander was his delightful and busy employment; and with low hints, dirty insinuations, and all the filthy brood of scandal, he was in close fellowship and constant communion. It is enough to say of this Rev. gentleman, that when he desired to take the place of the author, he laboured with all his might to shake the confidence of the community in him; and though he laboured without success, he rendered the situation of his prophetic victim so unpleasant, that he voluntarily withdrew from a field which his unprovoked enemy had _secretly_ planted with _thistles_.

But Mr. S. gained nothing by this; for though the field which he desired to occupy, was left open to him, he found that the community there had no desire for _his_ services. This is generally the result of such conduct. There is a re-action in guilt, and Haman generally dies on the gallows which he erected for Mordecai.

About this time the author had occasion to doubt the sincerity of some other clergymen, who made great professions of friendship for him, and were loud in praises of their own piety. He learned here the elements of that knowledge which has been fully taught him since--_that profession is not principle--that self-interest is so general a spring to action in_ ALL _minds, that it will not be safe, in practice, to admit of any exceptions--and that generous confidence in man is often an ignis fatuus that leads to ruin_. SELF is every man's idol, and he loves it with all his heart. I admit that there are exceptions, and humanity is not _really_ so bad, as, in practice, we are _prudently_ to consider it. There are _exceptions_, but who knows, where to make them? "COMMIT YOURSELF TO NO MAN," is the voice of all experience; and _my_ experience has taught _me_, that, in a clash or competition of interests, no man will regard _mine_, and I must _contend_ for, or _lose_ it.

It pains my heart to be compelled to write such bitter things against that nature which I possess in common with others, and I should not yield to the necessity of doing so, had I not an important duty to perform. There are many individuals coming out of prisons every year, and they are coming out under an impression that they can regain their characters and be respected by their fellow men. I wish to inform them that their expectations are groundless. If they will consent to become the _tools_ of a party, and _stepping_ stones for others, they will be treated _as_ tools and stepping stones; but if they set up for themselves, and contend for their rights, they will be like deers amidst a thousand blood hounds and hunters. Few men whose interest they will not promote to the neglect of their own, will be too good to tell them of things gone by; and even ministers will treat them worse than Michael treated the Devil.

I have made these remarks with reference to the treatment the author received from Rev. Messrs. J. S----, N. W. W----, A. C---- and M. C----, and, also, to what he suffered during his connexion with the M. P. C. in B----, a faithful though brief account of which, I am now going to submit to the reader.

The author's connexion with this church was formed in the month of July, 1831. He was engaged by the committee in full view of his imprisonment, and with a solemn pledge on their part, that what was past should never be considered any thing against him in their minds, and that they never would desert him on account of it. How well some of them have kept their pledge I need not say. All that related to their pastor was soon communicated in different ways to the members of the church, and they respected him none the less on account of what was past.

The ministers who had officiated previous to this time, were Rev. J. S., President of the Annual Conference of the M. P. Church in Massachusetts, a man whose name is identified with the early history of Methodism in New England, and dear to the hearts of thousands; Rev. T. F. N. Superintendent of the church in Malden; and Rev. J. D. Y. These gentlemen united their labors to promote the interests of the church, and they expressed much satisfaction when the author was appointed to labor in that place. Both in the public prints, and in private conversation, they gave the strongest demonstrations of their good feeling and entire satisfaction in the event. Why they changed their minds, and what cause they had to become enemies to the man whom they had so highly commended, must be inferred from circumstances; and all the circumstances necessary to this inference I shall now lay before the reader.

Soon after the author's connexion with the church, Rev. Mr. Y. proposed to have him ordained _Deacon_, which was accordingly done. The church immediately proposed to have him ordained _Elder_, which was also done. To this some objections were made by the ministers above named, but the vote for it, both in the church and conference, was _unanimous_.

About this time there was an obvious change in the conduct of Rev. Mr. Y. The cause of this change, I should not like to assume the responsibility of giving. Some thought it was on account of the last ordination, and the act of the President in appointing the author superintendent of the church _over_ him. If this was the cause it evinces a greater share of vanity in him than ought to belong to a christian minister.

At no distant period from this, Rev. Mr. N. began to give some indications of coldness towards the church and its appointed minister. I have no more data for the cause of _this_ change than I have for that in Rev. Mr. Y. This much, however, I know, that Rev. Mr. N. condemned in the most pointed and bitter language, the conduct of the other gentleman, said it was unmanly, unchristian, and cruel.

Last of all Rev. Mr. S. became displeased with the author, and united with the other gentlemen above named to injure him. What this last gentleman gave as the cause of his coldness towards the author was a sentence in one of his published letters, which he considered as a reflection on him. The sentence was the following:--

"Had you sent us an able minister when Dr. French left us, not only would some serious internal difficulties have been prevented, but the cause which then began to bud, would, before this time, have produced a glorious harvest."

This letter was addressed to the Editor of the M. P. Periodical in Baltimore; and as Rev. Mr. S. took charge of the church when Dr. French left it, he said the implication was that _he_ was not an "_able minister_."

It was not in Rev. Mr. S's nature to take fire at such trifles, and it is due to him to say, that he was instigated by others, or he never would have acted so inconsistently. The sentence objected to had not the least reference to him, who was highly and deservedly esteemed by the church, but belonged to things well known at the time, in which he shared no blame.

The course pursued by the author amidst these difficulties, was that of self-defence and submission to the proper and only authority of the church. He was what _that_ authority made him, and every favor it conferred, came unsought. He had his opinions of right and wrong, and he always counselled, but never opposed the voice of the church. In this respect he differed from his enemies, who took it on themselves to oppose what the church did, and to deny her right to act independently of them, or against the will of a body of which they were the Alpha and Omega. They used every effort in their power to accomplish their purposes against the church and its minister, but to little effect. At length, growing weary with perpetual war, the author concluded to take up his connexion with his people and go to New-York. To this, some opposition was made by the church, but his purpose had been matured and could not be changed. He accordingly took letters, and united with the Conference in New-York; which also received the church into its fellowship at the same time, and sent Rev. Thomas K. Witsil to superintend it. But this was an unfortunate connexion. The old enemies of the church and of the author, began now to practice on Rev. Mr. Witsil, and in a very few months the church was shaken down and scattered to the winds of the heavens.

I am now going to mention particularly what the Rev. enemies of the author did to injure him, while he was in B., and after he left it.--They tried to shake public confidence in him by mean allusions to his past history, both among the members of the church and congregation. They wrote letters to a distance to prevent his getting into employment. They published the most bitter and unchristian libels against him in the common newspapers of the city. And they resorted to all the means they could to cut off his means of support in the church. I have on record all their acts and doings against him--I have copies of the letters they sent to New-York--the pieces they printed in the papers--and what they said to individuals in the city. One of them may think that he has been cunning enough to escape observation in what he has done, but he is mistaken. His path has been observed, his track has been seen; and there may be a day of retribution.

Now, what just cause had they to array themselves against that individual? What evil had he done, that they should treat him thus? He has means of referring to their own printed letters, in which they speak much in his favor; what has he done since to give just occasion for such attacks?

The author is fully aware of the fact that no man is a proper judge of his own cause, and that in the heat of opposition, both parties are apt to be in the wrong. Of his own fallibility, he has had too many painful evidences to entertain a doubt; and he presumes not to say that in all things he acted as he should were he to be placed in the same circumstances again. How infallible his enemies are, in their own opinion, he is too well informed to inquire. They think that they did right in all they did, I have no doubt of this, for the Holy Bible assures me that God will send to certain individuals strong delusions that they may believe a lie. They no doubt think they were doing God service, when they were trying to ruin a fellow creature. When they were serving their master well, they said; "Come, see our zeal for the Lord." I readily admit that, like Saul, they did these things ignorantly and in unbelief; and for this reason I hope they will find mercy, and be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus, even if it should be "so as by fire." It is then, as has been already intimated, very possible that both parties have something to lament, and something to repent of. On this possibility I have thought much, and while I can find no vindication for his enemies on the principles of honorable conduct in heaven, or earth, or under the earth, I find it equally difficult to vindicate the conduct of the author in some things. It was right for him to submit to the voice of the church, and to promote her interest against all her enemies. It was right for him to defend himself against the wicked attacks of his personal foes. And the only part of his conduct that, after deliberate examination, seems to deserve any animadversion is, that in which he put confidence in strangers, and trusted them contrary to the maxims of prudence and the voice of his own experience. But he trusts that the evils he endured from want of prudence will have a good effect on him for the future; and if they cause him to withhold his confidence from strangers, and trust no man because he is a _professor_ or _minister_, till he knows whether he is what he professes to be, he will have no occasion to regret them.

The melancholy fact that the most sanguine professions of friendship are not to be relied upon, draws strong confirmation from the conduct of the Reverend enemies of the author mentioned above. They were warm in their _professions_, and equally warm in their _enmity_. His flatterers and eulogists, and his traducers and persecutors. Making him an angel one day, and a devil the next. One week learned and eloquent, and another ignorant and stammering. With one breath comparing him to Cicero, and with the next to an Indian. Any thing or nothing--a saint or a sinner--according to the whim of the moment or the expediency of the case. It is impossible to find greater inconsistencies than their conduct presents; and if any man wants occasion to be ashamed of his race, let him look at the actions of these men. They kissed and stabbed; defended and deserted; applauded and condemned, just as their present interest seemed to dictate; though the object of their praise and vituperation was the same being at all times, acting on the same principles, and pursuing the same even and steady way.

But what makes this picture the more saddening to the soul, is, the extent of its application. It presents the very common exhibitions of character which abound in our world. Under similar circumstances, who that has not the lovely principles of the gospel in his soul, would act very differently? This is, however, no apology for them. The frequency of a crime detracts not from its deformity, and sin is sin though an angel should commit it. And the general application of these ugly features of human depravity demonstrates the chilling truth, that he who has fallen can never hope to rise. Interest will have sway, and before its influence, justice and mercy are but dust before a tempest. He that sins and is detected will carry the scar to his grave, and he might as well try to blot out the sun as to hide it.

I have now finished the account which I promised to give of the author's connexion with the M. P. C. in B.; but it may not be out of place to mention here what treatment he met with from some other ministers. Passing along the street in the city, he met, one day, the Rev. E. W. a clergyman of the Episcopal Methodist Church. This man addressed him in a very abrupt, rude, uncivil, ungentlemanly, and unchristian speech, of which the following is a literal extract. "You ought never to have been allowed to preach, and if I had the power you never should, nor any one like you. You may be a good christian and get to heaven, but a man who has fallen under the censure of mankind ought never to be elevated to the ministry." Surely the man who should dare to use such language to a fellow mortal, ought to be very pure himself. I wish the Rev. E. W. to remember this treatment which he gave to his fellow man, and be very careful not to fall under "the censure of mankind." And before he prepares to abuse and insult another man, let him take a little precaution, lest in judging others he should condemn himself. It is a very common fault of our nature, from which even the Rev. E. W. was not exempted, to magnify specks on the character of others into blots, and consider blots on our own as only specks.

About this time the author had commenced a series of publications in a certain _Religious Periodical_; but his _name_ giving offence, he was desired by the Editor to substitute a _fictitious_, for his _real_ signature, as his productions could no longer appear in his paper unless he did. This he said was the decision of the Committee of the paper, most of whom were _clergymen_. They had nothing against his writing for the paper, if he would suppress his name, but it would not comport with their views of propriety, to admit him to an equal privilege with themselves. The author from that time, withdrew his contributions from the columns of that periodical.

Now, in view of this treatment endured by the author, I have but few observations to make. His enemies were ministers, and other officers in the Church of Christ. They were under solemn obligations to do as they would be done by; and yet they perseveringly opposed a man who had never injured them, and because they could find nothing else against him, they harped on what had transpired more than ten years before. While they professed to love their neighbour, they wilfully did him an injury. With one hand they took him by the beard to kiss him, while the other was holding a pointed dagger. This shews what sinful beings are found on earth, and proves that many who profess to be the meek and humble followers of the LAMB, have hearts warmed with the blood of the WOLF. It is truly painful to dwell on such uncomely exhibitions of human character, and I should not have been so minute in these details did I not feel impelled by a sense of duty. I have trodden this thorny path myself, and for the benefit of those who may come after me, I wish to leave, at every turn in the road, this salutary maxim--TRUST NOT IN MAN. Many no doubt will consider my accounts of human nature too dark; but no one who has had experience in the school of poverty or dependence, will charge me with being an _Acetic_. I have no enmity against my species to draw me from a fair statement of facts, nor can I be induced to keep back, out of a false respect for mankind, a fair representation of those traits of character which lie hidden from ordinary view, like vipers under a rose bush. Believe my testimony, or doubt it; approve or condemn; call me friend or foe; God knows, and _you_ will one day know, that I have declared nothing but what my ears have heard, my eyes seen, and my hands handled.

One paragraph more will close this part of my subject. One Sabbath as I was seated on my bench in my cell, spending the lonely hours in deep reflection on the miseries of life, and the unsympathizing temperament of the human heart, one of my cell-mates, more intelligent and observing than the others, very suddenly broke out into the following remarks:--

"Our sentences are various, but they should all be alike. Some of us are doomed here only for a series of years, but we ought all to have been sentenced for life. Some of us may live to get our liberty, but we ought all to die here. What interest has any one of us beyond these walls? What hope can we cherish of ever regaining the confidence of our fellow men? We have fallen and how can we rise? I have been taking an imaginary walk among men, carrying along with me the marks of my present condition, so that all might know where I have been. I have visited all classes, and all are alike. I have, all through my journey, laboured to do right, and give evidence that I have reformed. How have I been treated? I have been hissed by the multitude--despised by those who were once my equals--and trampled on by all.--The church has indeed recorded my name, but she placed me behind the door--and the minister always shunned me if he could.--Saints and sinners looked at me askance, and I have returned contented to live and die in prison, rather than go out and wither under the certain scorn of mankind."

II. My second proposition is, to shew how repentant criminals _ought_ to be treated, according to the divine principle of the text.

It is recognized as a principle in the divine administration, that a bad man may become a good one. On this principle the whole system of the gospel turns. And when the happy change takes place, it is another principle of the same administration, to forgive the past transgressions, and mention them no more to the injury or confusion of the penitent. When the prodigal returns his rejoicing father thinks no more of his prodigality. This is the manner in which God treats his repenting children; and he makes his example a law for all his creatures. "If the wicked restore the pledge, give again that he had robbed, walk in the statutes of life without committing iniquity; he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of the sins that he hath committed shall be mentioned unto him; he hath done that which is lawful and right; he shall surely live." This is the law of heaven on this subject, and it ought to be obeyed. Christians pray to be pardoned _as they pardon_, and God assures us that if we do not pardon those who trespass against us, we shall not be pardoned for our sins against him. Hence the manner in which repentant and reforming sinners should be treated is obvious; and it is equally obvious that those who do not treat them according to this rule, are not christians.

III. My last proposition is, to shew the good that would flow from such treatment, not only to the _penitents_, but to the _community_, and the cause of _religion_.

1. The good that would flow to the _penitents_.

By such treatment they would be cheered and helped on in their process of reformation. A contrary course has driven many a man away from his pious resolutions, and caused him to return to the commission of crime. The heart of the penitent man is tender, and this sensibility is in proportion to the greatness of his sins. _Then_ it can bear but little, whatever it may do afterwards. _Before_ David's repentance, Nathan said to him--"Thou art the man!" but not _afterwards_. This was right; and the sinful monarch reformed. When the soul is torn by the lashes of conscience, it needs no other reprover. Then the heart is bleeding and needs not any other application than oil and wine. Its language is--"Have pity upon me! have pity upon me! O! ye my friends! for the hand of God hath touched me!"

No one knows these feelings better than myself; and I know, too, what it is to have the feelings of a broken and contrite heart, harrowed up by the unsympathizing hand of _sneering_, _reproaching_, and _scornful professors_. Well do I remember those hours of darkness and pain; and a thousand scars on my soul will never suffer the remembrance to die. And that my readers may have some idea of my feelings at that time, I will ask their indulgence to insert for their perusal the following extract of a hymn, composed in one of those seasons of self-condemnation and derided misery.

"Yes, I feel that I'm forgiven,
Mercy cheers my soul at last;
Yet my heart is always riven
When I think upon the past!

O the killing recollection!
How it withers up my soul!
What can blunt the keen reflection,
Or this aching breast console!

If my tears, I'd weep an ocean!
If my blood, I'd rend this heart!
Could I stop this dread emotion,
How with being would I part!

But the _past_--'tis past _for ever_!--
Yet, if suffer'd still to live,
Will the friends of Jesus _never_,
My repented deeds _forgive_?"

Such are the feelings of a contrite soul, when the painful remembrance of its sins is aggravated by the constant and unfeeling indications of a world's scorn.

Now, the treatment which such an individual ought to receive is expressed in the text, and such treatment would soften the flinty path of his return to virtue, and facilitate his progress. Many are now in the highway of a sinful career, whom such treatment would have saved from ruin. I know them well, and could call their names. They commenced a reform; they looked for encouragement; they leaned on the specious but deceptive professions of christian sympathy; but were disappointed in all. From the altar to the grog shop, and from the throne to the dunghill, they found that, though a sinner might find pardon, and his sins be forgotten in heaven, they will be kept in cruel remembrance on earth, and thrown in his face as long as he lives. This is more than feeble humanity can often endure. It is implied, and by an inspired writer too, that no one can bear a "_wounded spirit_." Who then can bear on an already "wounded spirit," the mountain of universal insult and scorn? Who can endure forever an hourly crucifixion on the contempt and derision of the whole world? Until christians become converted to the christianity of Jesus, the friend of sinners; and until all men act on the broad rule of doing as they would be done by, there can be but little hope of the reformation of any who have been considered sinners above all men, "because they have suffered such things."

The conduct of the mass of mankind towards those who have become notorious by their sins, is fitly represented by those animals which always fall on such of their species as are in distress and kill them. Even the warmest votaries of the penitentiary system--the members of the "PRISON DISCIPLINE SOCIETY," as a body, treat the sons of guilt and crime as the inhabitants of the country towns in New-England treat their neighbour's unruly cattle,--thump them, dog them, shut them up in pound, and forever after give them a bad name.

Nothing can be more absurd than such conduct; and no course of treatment could be more pernicious in its effects. It must necessarily frustrate the most benevolent objects. Do all that can be done to reform the guilty while they are in confinement, by _bread and water_, _chains_ and _cells_, and all the wonderful discipline of the _lash_ and the _lock-step_, with the much better means of _tracts_, _bibles_, _priests_ and _sermons_; but if they are left, on their release from prison, unprotected from the insults of mankind, and not helped to get into decent employment, nor surrounded by the kind attention of christians, nothing has been done effectually. The man should not be neglected in prison. That is the place to begin, but not to complete his reformation. Let mercy's angels meet him at the door of his cell as it opens to let him out, and let them be his guardian spirits through life; and then they may take him to heaven. The time of his release is the turning point in his moral history. Like the unclean spirit that went out of the man, if he has to go through dry places seeking rest and finding none, he will, from necessity, return to his house whence he came out; but if he is received as was the returning prodigal by his father, no more will be heard of his wanderings.

Christians! think of this. You who exhaust all science to compute the worth of one soul, and send the emanations of your love for sinners to the furthest verge of the other hemisphere, take a few thoughts for those of your own country. Look at home. And if all souls are of equal value, and he who converts one sinner from the error of his ways, saves a soul from death and hides a multitude of sins, try at least not to _prevent_ the conversion of a sinner, by mentioning to him the sins of which he has repented.

2. The good that would flow to _community_.

It is presumed that a general exemplification of the principle laid down in the text, would not only prevent penitent offenders from relapsing into crime, but would fully confirm them in habits of virtue. In more than nine cases out of ten, this would be the happy result; while the _opposite_ course would in full as many cases, lead to an opposite result. God always acts on this principle, and because he is good to all and his tender mercies are over all his work, his saints love him and praise him, and sinners are led to repentance. His kingdom is a kingdom of mercy. Every part of his administration is governed by mercy and love, and these traits of its character are visible every where--in the golden flood of morning, and the dark and howling demons of the midnight storm; in the soft and harmonious tones of the gospel, and the harsh and thundering notes of the gloomy and fiery mount. He is the Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger and of great kindness; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin; but by no means clearing the guilty. He will not contend for ever nor be always wroth. He will not cast off for ever. His anger continues only for a moment, but his mercy is everlasting--it endureth for ever. When desired to display his _glory_, he shows his _goodness_. He loves not only his saints, he also commendeth his love towards _us_, in that while we were yet _sinners_ Christ died for us. And we are commanded to love _our_ enemies, to bless them that curse us, to do good to them that hate us, and pray for them that despitefully use and persecute us; that we may be the children of our Father who is in heaven, who makes his sun rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and unjust. Such being the principles of the divine administration, and such the certainty that they will result in the reconciliation of all beings to the Father, it is inferentially presumable that the same principles fully acted out by men, would produce the same happy and desirable results.

If these remarks and inferences are just, then the good that would result to community by exemplifying the principle in the text is obvious. It would exchange bad men for good ones. It would throw a wall of security around its institutions, its peace, its prosperity and its virtue, stronger than mountains of brass. Under such a firmament of heavenly principles and conduct,

"All crimes would cease and ancient fraud would fail,
Returning Justice lift aloft her scale;
Peace o'er the earth her olive wand extend,
And white-rob'd Innocence from heaven descend;
The world would smile with boundless bounty bless'd,
And God's pure image glow in ev'ry breast."

Towards this glorious state of society I confidently look, with the strong emotions of a fixed and unwavering faith; but I invariably associate it with the universal prevalence of benevolent principles and beneficent deeds. Good will to all mankind must be the inspiring motive of every action. The shepherd must go into the wilderness after his lost sheep, and rejoice when he returns with it; and the father must go out to meet his returning prodigal.

3. The good that would flow to the cause of _religion_ by such conduct, is my last topic.

It would be redeemed from the charge of _inconsistency_. Religion is judged of by the conduct of its professed friends, and condemned or applauded from their exhibitions of it. Every inconsistency in their conduct is written as a mark against their creed, and all their excellences are placed to its credit. The truth of this no one will deny. What verdict then will mankind render against a religion, the professors of which continue in a course of conduct which crosses their principles at every step? How can they call that a good religion, which does not exert sufficient influence over its votaries to make them even _consistent_? But if the friends of religion act according to their principles, and never depart from those maxims of propriety which they inculcate on _others_, they will at least obtain for their religion the credit of _consistency_. Now the text contains _one_ of the principles of the Christian religion, and all who profess to be christians acknowledge it to be genuine; but where is their consistency if they depart from it in practice? Christians, will you be consistent? For God's sake let the blessed Jesus be wounded no longer in the house of his friends!

This course would also stop the triumphs of Infidelity. This monster subsists on the faults of professors, and his triumphal car is stained with the blood of christian wars. Preach to him the excellences of your faith till the day of doom, and by one single reference, he can silence the most eloquent tongue. He unfolds the long catalogue of sainted crimes, and the christian must be dumb. The christian conduct cannot be vindicated on the christian's principles, and the enemy can be put to silence only by the abstract excellence of the faith which he despises. Between christianity and christians there must be a distinctive line drawn, or they will obscure its brightness and beauty by the association. When they come up in their doings to the high, pure, and stainless criterion of their professed principles, then, and not till then, will Infidelity be put to the blush.

It is high time to commence a reform in the conduct of professors; and no where is this reform more needed than in the principle of the text. I will not stop to argue this point, for no one dares deny it. Look abroad, christians, and see the characters specified in the verse read at the commencement of this discourse, roving up and down the earth. How are they treated? How do _you_ treat them? Who wipes their tears? who gives them a shelter from the rude storms of winter? who gives them a kind look or a civil word? who leads them into the vineyard in the morning and gives them a penny at night? Rather who does not shun them?--insult them?--spurn them from his door?--force them to die in innocence or live by crime? Who dares confront these charges? You that kneel at the altar of Jesus, and commemorate his dying love, are you innocent? Ministers of the everlasting gospel, are your garments clean? Missionary, Tract, Bible and Prison Discipline Societies, how stands your accounts? Christians of every rank and denomination, when have you fed, clothed, ministered to, and visited your hungry, naked, sick, and imprisoned Jesus in the person of his followers? In the name of Jesus Christ, then, and for the honor of his cause, I pray you, in behalf of repentant criminals, to REFORM.

In concluding this Essay, which has cost me many a painful hour, I cannot help remarking the vast difference that exists between the conduct of God and of his creatures, in relation to repentant sinners. He not only pardons, he also forgets; but men do neither. My experience on this subject leads me to results very different from those which the sanguine professions of christians led me to anticipate. Such is the gloomy fact, and I must endure it. From man, even the man of the _altar_ and the _desk_, I have nothing to hope for. Within the limits of the wide world, and beneath the heavens, my prospects are as dark as the "noon of night;" despair has hung her dreadful curtains round all things, and in its chilling, stiffening shade, the frost of endless blight is fast gathering upon me. I meet at every turn the scorn of every eye, and I have only to bury myself in some distant clime, till my race on earth shall close. "O for a lodge in some vast wilderness!"

But though all earth is dark, and mankind will be my enemies for ever, there is a God who will never desert any that trust in him; and conscious that he loves me, and will defend me, I will endure without a murmur all the evils of life, and wait all the days of my appointed time till my change come; in the humble hope, that, in the grave, I shall not hear the voice of the oppressors, and that the reproaches and scorn of mankind, which is too much for me to bear on earth, will not follow me into the world to come.

Fly swift, ye intervening days,
Lord, send the summons down;
The hand that strikes me to the earth,
Shall raise me to a crown.

THE CONNEXION BETWEEN INTEMPERANCE AND CRIME, AS VISIBLE IN PRISON.

Intemperance is not the cause of _every_ crime that is committed, though it is of very many of them. It is _itself_ one of the greatest of crimes. It is a violation of not one law only, but of _many_. The drunkard outrages the law of his nature, tramples on the laws of morality, and flings contempt on the law of the Almighty; and it is not at all wonderful that so manifold a sin should meet with a various and adequate retribution. Intemperance unfits its votaries for every thing good, and qualifies them for, and spurs them onward to the commission of every base and sinful work; and it is impossible to estimate the crimes it has committed, or the miseries it has produced. I saw, in the Windsor Prison, many of the criminal votaries of this Moloch of modern idolatry, and my soul was often severely pained in contemplating the certain and lasting misery with which he rewarded his most faithful worshippers. I have not time, in this place, to enter into a full discussion of the connexion of intemperance with the crimes and misery of state prisons; but I will present a few striking illustrations of the subject, which may answer in the place of a volume.