but didst thou fulfil equally that other part of my command, to keep thyself unspotted from the world'?—No, thou wast conformed to the world in many of its sinful customs, thou didst follow a multitude to do evil; thou didst love the world and the things of the world;' and the motive to all thy charities was not a regard to me, but to thy own credit with thy fellow-men. Thou hast done every thing for the sake of reputation, and now thou art vainly trusting in thy deceitful works, instead of putting all thy trust in my son, who has offered himself to be a surety for thee. Where has been that humility and gratitude to him which was required of thee. No, thou wouldst be thine own surety; thou hast trusted in thyself; thou hast made thy boast of thine own goodness; thou hast sought after, and thou hast enjoyed, the praise of men, and verily I say unto thee, 'Thou hast had thy reward.'"

A poor, diseased, blind cripple, who came from the very hospital which this great man had built, then fell prostrate on his face, crying out, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner!" on which the judge, to the surprise of all, said, "Well done, good and faithful servant." The poor man replied, "Lord, I have done nothing!" "But thou hast suffered well," said the judge; "thou hast been an example of patience and meekness; and, though thou hadst but few talents, yet thou hast well improved those few; thou hadst time-this thou didst spend in the humble duties of thy station, and also in earnest prayer; thou didst pray even for that proud founder of thine hospital, who never prayed for himself; thou wast, indeed, blind and lame, but it is no where said, My son, give me thy feet, or thine eyes, but give me thy heart'; and even the few faculties I did grant thee, were employed to my glory; with thine ears thou didst listen to my word; with thy tongue thou didst show forth my praise; ' enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'"

There were several who came forward, and boasted of some single and particular virtue, in which they had been supposed to excel. One talked of his generosity, another of his courage, and a third of his fortitude; but it proved, on a close examination, that some of those supposed virtues were merely the effect of a particular constitution of body; that others proceeded from a false motive, and that not a few of them were actual vices, since they were carried to excess; and under the pretence of fulfilling one duty, some other duty was lost sight of: in short, these partial virtues were none of them practised in obedience to the will of the king, but merely to please the person's own humor, or to gain praise, and they

would not, therefore, stand this day's trial, for he that had kept the whole law, and yet had wilfully and habitually offended in any one point, was declared guilty of breaking the whole.

At this moment a sort of thick scales fell from the eyes of the multitude. They could now no longer take comfort, as they had done for so many years, by measuring their neighbors' conduct against their own. Each at once saw himself in his true light, and found, alas! when it was too late, that he should have made the book which had been given him his rule of practice before, since it now proved to be the rule by which he was to be judged. Nay, every one now thought himself even worse than his neighbor, because, while he only saw and heard of the guilt of others, he felt his own in all its aggravated horror.

To complete their confusion, they were compelled to acknowledge the justice of the judge who condemned them; and also to approve the favorable sentence by which thousands of other criminals had not only their lives saved, but were made happy and glorious beyond all imagination; not for any great merits which they had to produce, but in consequence of their sincere repentance, and their humble acceptance of the pardon offered to them by the king's son. One thing was remarkable, that whilst most of those who were condemned never expected condemnation, but even claimed a reward for their supposed innocence or goodness, all who were really rewarded and forgiven, were sensible that they owed their pardon to a mere act of grace, and they cried out with one voice, "Not unto us, not unto us, but unto thy name be the praise!"

THE

SERVANT MAN TURNED SOLDIER ;

OR,

THE FAIR-WEATHER CHRISTIAN.

AN ALLEGORY.

WILLIAM was a lively young servant, who lived in a great, but very irregular, family. His place was, on the whole, agreeable to him, and suited to his gay, thoughtless temper. He found a plentiful table and a good cellar. There was, indeed, a good deal of work to be done, though it was performed with much disorder and confusion. The family in the main were not unkind to him, though they often contradicted and crossed him, especially when things went ill with themselves. This, William never much liked, for he was always fond of having his own way. There was a merry, or rather a noisy and riotous servants' hall; for disorder and quarrels are indeed the usual effects of plenty and unrestrained indulgence. The men were smart, but idle; the maids were showy, but licentious; and all did pretty much as they liked for a time, but the time was commonly short. The wages were reckoned high, but they were seldom paid; and it was even said by sober people, that the family was insolvent, and never fulfilled any of their flattering engagements, or their most positive promises; but still, notwithstanding their real poverty, things went on with just the same thoughtlessness and splendor, and neither masters nor servants looked beyond the jollity of the present hour.

In this unruly family there was little church-going, and still less praying at home. They pretended, indeed, in a general way, to believe in the Bible, but it was only an outward profession; few of them read it at all, and, even of those who did read it, still fewer were governed by it. There was, indeed, a Bible lying on the table in the great hall, which

was kept for the purpose of administering an oath, but was seldom used on any other occasion; and some of the heads of the family were of opinion that this was its only real use, as it might serve to keep the lower parts of it in order.

William, who was fond of novelty and pleasure, was apt to be negligent of the duties of the house. He used to stay out on his errands, and one of his favorite amusements was, going to the parade to see the soldiers exercise. He saw with envy how smartly they were dressed; listened with rapture to the music, and fancied that a soldier had nothing to do but to walk to and fro in a certain regular order, to go through a little easy exercise; in short, to live without fighting, fatigue, or danger.

"O," said he, whenever he was affronted at home, "what a fine thing it must be to be a soldier! to be so well dressed, to have nothing to do but to move to the pleasant sound of fife and drum, and to have so many people come to look at one, and admire one! O, it must be a fine thing to be a soldier!

Yet, when the vexation of the moment was over, he found so much ease and diversion in the great family, it was so suited to his low taste and sensual appetites, that he thought no more of the matter. He forgot the glories of a soldier, and eagerly returned to all the mean gratifications of the kitchen. His evil habits were but little attended to by those with whom he lived; his faults, among which were lying and swearing, were not often corrected by the family, who had little objection to those sins which only offended God, and did not much affect their own interest or property. And, except that William was obliged to work rather more than he liked, he found little, while he was young and healthy, that was very disagreeable in this service. So he went on, still thinking, however, when things went a little cross, what a fine thing it was to be a soldier! At last, one day, as he was waiting at dinner, he had the misfortune to let fall a china dish, and broke it all to pieces. It was a curious dish, much valued by the family, as they pretended; this family were indeed apt to set a false, fantastic value on things, and not to estimate them by their real worth. The heads of the family, who had generally been rather patient and good-humored with William, as I said before, for those vices, which, though offensive to God, did not touch their own pocket, now flew out into a violent passion with him, called him a thousand hard names, and even threatened to horsewhip him for his shameful negligence. William, in a great fright, for he was a sad coward at bottom,-ran directly out of the house, to avoid the threatened

punishment; and happening, just at that very time, to pass by the parade where the soldiers chanced to be then exercising, his resolution was taken in a moment. He instantly determined to be no more a slave, as he called it; he would return no more to be subject to the humors of a tyrannical family; no, he resolved to be free; or at least, if he must serve, he would serve no master but the king.

William, who had now and then happened to hear, from the accidental talk of the soldiers, that those who served the great family he had lived with, were slaves to their tyranny and vices, had also heard, in the same casual manner, that the service of the king was "perfect freedom." Now, he had taken it into his head to hope that this might be a freedom to do evil, or at least to do nothing, so he thought it was the only place in the world to suit him.

A fine, likely young man, as William was, had no great difficulty to get enlisted. The few forms were soon settled; he received the bounty money as eagerly as it was offered; took the oaths of allegiance; was joined to the regiment, and heartily welcomed by his new comrades. He was the happiest fellow alive. All was smooth and calm. The day happened to be very fine, and therefore, William always reckoned upon a fine day. The scene was gay and lively, the music cheerful; he found the exercise very easy, and he thought there was little more expected from him.

He soon began to flourish away in his talk; and when he met with any one of his old fellow-servants, he fell a prating about marches and counter-marches, and blockades, and battles, and sieges, and blood, and death, and triumphs, and victories, all at random, for these were words and phrases he had picked up without at all understanding what he said. He had no knowledge, and therefore he had no modesty; he had no experience, and therefore he had no fears.

All seemed to go on swimmingly, for he had as yet no trial. He began to think with triumph what a mean life he had escaped from in the old quarrelsome family, and what a happy, honorable life he should have in the army. O, there was no life like the life of a soldier!

In a short time, however, war broke out; his regiment was one of the first which was called out to actual and hard service. As William was the most raw of all the recruits, he was the first to murmur at the difficulties and hardships, the cold and hunger, the fatigue and danger, of being a soldier. O, what watchings, and perils, and trials, and hardships, and difficulties, he now thought, attended a military life!

VOL. I.

14