ille, you are going to college, and you will [37] be
converted there." I said, "Uncle, how can you speak in that way to me?"
"Nay," he replied, "I am perfectly serious; you will be converted, and
when you are, write to me about it, for I shall believe what you say."
When that happened which he predicted,--when something had taken place
in my experience, of which neither he, nor I then, had any definite
idea, I wrote to him a long letter, in which I frankly and fully
expressed all my feelings, and told him that what he had thus spoken of,
whether idly or sincerely, had become to me the most serious reality. I
learned from his family afterwards that my letter seemed to make a good
deal of impression on him. He was true to what he had said; he did take
my testimony into account, and from that time after, spoke with less
warmth and bitterness upon such subjects. Doubtless his large sagacity
saw an explanation of my experience, different from that which I then
put upon it. But he saw that it was at least sincere, and respected
it accordingly. Certainly it did not change his views of the religious
ministrations of the Church. He declined them when they were offered to
him upon his death-bed, saying plainly that he did not wish for them.
He was cross with Church people even then, and said to one of them who
called, as he thought obtrusively, to talk and pray with him, "Sir, I
desire neither your conversation nor your prayers." All this while, it
is to be remembered that he was a man, not only of [38] great sense,
but of incorruptible integrity, of irreproachable habits, and of
great tenderness in his domestic relations. Whatever be the religious
judgments formed of such men, mine is one of mingled respect and regret.
It reminds me of an anecdote related of old Dr. Bellamy, of Connecticut,
the celebrated Hopkinsian divine, who was called into court to testify
concerning one of his parishioners, against whom it was sought to be
proved that he was a very irascible, violent, and profane man; and as
this man was, in regard to religion, what was called in those days "a
great opposer," it was expected that the Doctor's testimony would be
very convincing and overwhelming. "Well," said Bellamy, "Mr. X is
a rough, passionate, swearing man,--I am sorry to say it; but I do
believe," he said, hardly repressing the tears that started, "that there
is more of the milk of human kindness in his heart than in all my parish
put together!"

I may