id he to himself, there must be some mighty power in a
religion which can lead men to do such things! things so much
against the grain as to forgive such an injury, and to risk catching
such a distemper; but he was so weak he could not express this in
words. He tried to pray, but he could not; at length overpowered
with weariness, he fell asleep.

When Mr. Stock came back, he was surprised to find him so much
better in body; but his agonies of mind were dreadful, and he had
now got strength to express part of the horrors which he felt.
"James," said he (looking wildly) "it is all over with me. I am a
lost creature. Even your prayers can not save me." "Dear Jack,"
replied Mr. Stock, "I am no minister; it does not become me to talk
much to thee: but I know I may adventure to say whatever is in the
Bible. As ignorant as I am I shall be safe while I stick to that."
"Ay," said the sick man, "you used to be ready enough to read to me,
and I would not listen, or if I did it was only to make fun of what
I heard, and now you will not so much as read a bit of a chapter to
me."

This was the very point to which Stock longed to bring him. So he
took a little Bible out of his pocket, which he always carried with
him on a journey, and read slowly, verse by verse, the fifty-fifth
chapter of Isaiah. When he came to the sixth and seventh verses,
poor Jack cried so much that Stock was forced to stop. The words
were, _Let the wicked man forsake his way, and the unrighteous man
his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord._ Here Brown stopped
him, saying, "Oh, it is too late, too late for me." "Let me finish
the verse," said Stock, "and you will see your error; you will see
that it is never too late." So he read on--_Let him return unto the
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, and he will
abundantly pardon._ Here Brown started up, snatched the book out of
his hand, and cried out, "Is that really there? No, no; that's of
your own putting in, in order to comfort me; let me look at the
words myself." "No, indeed," said Stock, "I would not for the world
give you unfounded comfort, or put off any notion of my own for a
Scripture doctrine." "But is it possible," cried the sick man, "that
God may really pardon me? Dost think he can? Dost think he will?"
"I dare not give thee false hopes, or indeed any hopes of my own.
But these are God's own words, and the only difficulty is to know
when we are really brought into such a st