trage public opinion, and break out of the stream and path of
their fellow-men.

One Sunday evening, however, after a day spent as usual, in idling about
and shooting little birds, our friend John was observed by a woman
standing outside a church, under the window nearest to the pulpit. He
stood there, listening very attentively to the sermon, till it was over;
and then, before the congregation could come out, he made off stealthily
and hastily, to escape observation. But passing near the woman who had
been watching him, she heard him say, with a look of distress on his
countenance, "It's no use--the devil's sure to have me! It doesn't
matter!"

This woman told me on Monday morning what she had seen and heard; so I
determined to go at once and see the man. It was not his dinner-time
yet; but I thought I would have a little conversation with his wife
before he came home. To my surprise, however, I found him there. "What,
not working today, John?" I said. "What's the matter?"

"I ain't very well," he answered. "I got no sleep last night; but I mean
to work in the afternoon, for all that," he continued, with an air of
determination and defiance.

"What's the matter? Have you got anything on your mind?" I inquired.

"Mind?" he repeated, as if in contempt at the thought. "There is not
much that ever troubles my mind." He then went on to give me a long
account of his bodily ailments.

"But do you never think about your soul, John?" I asked; "never think
about another world and eternity?"

"Soul and eternity! I don't believe in either the one or the other of
them!"

"Not believe you have a soul! Come, John, I am sure you know better than
that." And I went on to speak of the joys of heaven and the bitter
torments of hell; of the love of God, who willeth not the death of the
sinner, but rather that he should turn and live; and then I proceeded to
tell him of the atonement which Jesus Christ finished on the cross, and
that now there is pardon for the vilest sinner through the efficacy of
the blood which has been shed once for all.

"You know, John," I continued, "that I do not care to argue about these
things. There is mercy for you, if you will have it. We can bring water
to the horses, but we cannot make them drink. My business is to put the
way of pardon and salvation plainly before you; and after that, if you
reject it, it will be your own fault if you perish. Do you know how to
get forgiveness of sins?"

He seem