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?” What a contrast did the character of the doctor himself present to all this! It was his laudable ambition to say, that “He did not know of any person in the world who had done him any ill office but he had done him a good one for it.” AN AGED CLERGYMAN AN aged clergyman, in the State of New York, not long since gave a very interesting narrative of scenes in which he was personally concerned. Two young men from Birmingham, in England, emigrated to the United States in 1793. On the vessel arriving in sight of her destined port, a storm suddenly arose, the ship was wrecked, and the two brothers, always affectionately attached to each other, died locked in each other's arms. Their bodies being washed ashore, they were decently buried, and our reverend friend preached a funeral sermon from the counsel of Solomon, "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." It was ascertained from their papers from whence they came, and how their friends could be addressed: the minister wrote to their widowed mother, now most affectingly bereaved of her sons, and deeply sympathized with her under her accumulated sorrows. A correspondence ensued, and our friend ultimately received a piece of plate with a suitable inscription on it, recording his kindness. This he carefully placed in his study. Many years afterwards, a gentleman from England, over in that religion, which may bring me to the salvation of my soul." Dr. Franklin once received a very useful lesson from the excellent Doctor, which he thus relates in a letter to his son : The last time I saw your father, was in 1724. On taking my leave, he showed me a shorter way out of the house, by a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam over head. We were still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning towards him, when he said hastily, "Stoop, stoop!" I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never missed an opportunity of giving instruction; and upon this he said to me, "You are young, and have the world before you; learn to stoop as you go through it, and you will avoid many hard thumps." This advice, thus beat into my head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortune brought upon people by their carrying their heads. too high. Dr. Mather was remarkable for the sweetness of his temper. He took some interest in the political concerns of his country, and, on 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." I happened once, says Dr. Mather, 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, the unjust calumnies and injuries which he had often 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?" What a contrast did the character of the doctor himself present to all this! It was his laudable ambition to say, that "He did not know of any person in the world who had done him any ill office but he had done him a good one for it." AN AGED CLERGYMAN AN aged clergyman, in the State of New York, not long since gave a very interesting narrative of scenes in which he was personally concerned. Two young men from Birmingham, in England, emigrated to the United States in 1793. On the vessel arriving in sight of her destined port, a storm suddenly arose, the ship was wrecked, and the two brothers, always affectionately attached. to each other, died locked in each other's arms. Their bodies being washed ashore, they were decently buried, and our reverend friend preached a funeral sermon from the counsel of Solomon, "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." It was ascertained from their papers from whence they came, and how their friends could be addressed: the minister wrote to their widowed mother, now most affectingly bereaved of her sons, and deeply sympathized with her under her accumulated sorrows. A correspondence ensued, and our friend ultimately received a piece of plate with a suitable inscription on it, recording his kindness. This he carefully placed in his study. Many years afterwards, a gentleman from England, over taken in a violent storm, sought for shelter at the house of the minister, where he was invited to stay for the night. As, on the next morning, he was looking over the worthy pastor's study, his eye caught the plate, the inscription on which he read with deep interest, for these young men were his cousins. The character of the subsequent intercourse between the minister and his new friend need not be described, REV. MR. BENNETT, The following is an extract from an anniversary sermon, delivered by the Rev, Mr. Bennett, of Woburn, Mass, The introductory remarks are so judicious in their character, and are so very naturally connected with the anecdote which fol lows, that no apology will be needed for their appearance |— I am sorry to say it, the first open complaint is made against the pastor, in three cases out of four, by a deacon of the church. Deacons, the world over, are like Jeremiah's figs—that is, very sweet or very sour. They either aid their pastor, and, like Aaron and Hur, stay up his hands, or decidedly the reverse, It is a sober fact, and it ought to make the ears of such deacons tingle, that at least three out of four of all the ministers in New England, who have been driven away from their perple, have been driven away by deacons; by men who, in one respect, have with a vengeance "magnified their office," Į might point you to numerous examples all over the land. But I forbear, I thank God, however, that I have never been plagued by such deacons. I have never had the slightest diffi culty with any of my deacons, except in a single instance, and that lasted but five minutes. It was with good deacon Wyman, at the commencement of the Temperance Iteformation in 1826. Some one had told him that I said at a church mreting that I would never drink another drop of ardent spirit, (unless or dered by a physician,) or give it to a workman or a visitor, while I lived. The deacon called upon me the next day, and asked me if I said so. I told him I did, and should stick to it, at all hazards. "Well," said he, "then you will not be a minister of this parith three months." "Very well," said 1, "I have taken my stand, and if I knew I should be drawn in quarters within three months, if I did not recant, I would not do it." Said the deacon, "You are a crazy man, and I will not talk with you ;" and arose to go out of my house, when I thus accosted him: "Deacon Wyman, the next time you enter your closet, will you ask God to teach you by his Spirit, who is right on this subject, you or I?" "I tell you," said he, "I will not talk with you,” and marched out of doors. The next morning, long before sunrise, some one knocked-I went to the door, and behold, there stood deacon Wyman. He instantly grasped my hand, and, with tears rolling down his cheeks, exclaimed, "My dear pastor, I went home from your house yesterday, and in accordance with your advice, retired to my closet, and asked God to teach me by his Spirit, who was right in regard to the use of ardent spirits, you or I. In five minutes a flood of light broke in upon my mind, and I was fully convinced that you were right, and I was wrong. And now," said he, "go ahead with your temperance reformation-to the day of my death I will do all in my power to sustain you." He was as good as his word. He did sustain me as long as he lived." REV. DR. L. It has been well said that weighty solemn sentences, dropped into the ear of the sinner in private, are often far more useful than even the most elopuent sermons, Some years since, |