air into the inhospitable
street and the fearful storm. The rain now fell in torrents; and the
darkness was so intense, that the hapless wanderer cou'd only grope his
way along, slowly and painfully.--Upon one corner of the street the
foundation for a house had recently been dug, forming a deep and
dangerous pit, lying directly in Sinclair's path: no friendly lantern
warned him of the peril--no enclosure was there to protect him from
falling. Unconscious of the danger, he slowly approached the brink of
the pit; now he stood upon the extreme edge, and the next instant _he
fell_! There was a dull, dead sound--then a stifled groan--and all was
still!

Morning dawned, bright and clear, the storm had subsided during the
night, and the glorious sun arose in a cloudless sky. A crowd was
collected on the corner of Broadway and one of the narrow streets which
cross its lower section. They were gazing at a terrible spectacle: the
body of a man lay in a deep pit below them, shockingly mangled; he had
fallen upon a heap of stones--his brains were dashed out, and his blood
scattered all around. Among the spectators was a portly, well-dressed
man, who looked at the body steadfastly for some time, and then muttered
to himself--

'By G----, it is Dr. Sinclair, and no mistake! Too bad--too bad!--When
he came to my house last night, I little thought to see him dead this
morning! Plague on it, I ought to have given the poor devil sixpence or
a shilling. No matter--he's better off now. He was a talented
fellow--great pity, but can't be helped.'

Yes, it _could_ have been helped, Mr. Grump; had you kindly taken that
poor unfortunate by the hand, and afforded him food and shelter for a
brief season, he never would have met that tragical end, but might have
lived to reform, and lead a life of usefulness and honor; yes, he might
have lived to bless you for that timely aid.

Reader, 'speak gently to the erring.' Do not too hastily or too harshly
condemn the follies or faults of others. A gentle word, spoken in
kindness to an erring brother, may do much towards winning him back to
the path of rectitude and right. Harsh words and stern reproofs may
drive him on to ruin.

But let us return to the crowd collected around the mangled body of
Sinclair.

'It's a sin and a shame,' said a stout man, in working clothes, 'that
there wasn't some kind of a fence put around this infernal trap. Where
was the Alderman of this ward, that _he_ didn't atte