91 Sermon Illustrations on Generosity

The late Mr. John Croumbie, of Haddington (Eng.), some time before his death, calling on one of his customers, his friend said unto him, "I am sure, Mr. Croumbie, you need not care for business." He replied, "It is true, Mrs. ——, but if I were to give over business, I would not be so able to assist the various societies that are formed for diffusing the knowledge of the gospel throughout the world." The same excellent person, in his last illness, after expressing his surprise that some Christians kept back from the support of these institutions, said with peculiar emphasis, "O how I pity the poor heathen, who have nothing to support their minds in the prospect of eternity?" His feelings were evidently excited by his own situation, and a conviction of the misery he would feel, if his mind had not been supported by the gospel in the near prospect of entering into an eternal state.

The late Mr. Thornton was applied to, by a respectable clergyman, for some pecuniary assistance. Mr. Thornton having listened to his story, immediately gave him a draft for fifteen pounds.

Whilst the grateful clergyman was still with him, the post letters arrived, and Mr. Thornton begged him not to go till he should see if he had received any news which might interest him. He began, accordingly, to read one of his letters, and, after a considerable pause, said to his friend, "Here is a letter, conveying bad news indeed; I have lost a very valuable ship, and certainly my loss cannot be less than £20,- 000. You must return me that draft, my dear sir, and to prove that I do not deceive you, read the letter which I have just received.

What could the poor clergyman do? He recalled to mind the condition of his starving and sickly wife and children, and anticipated the grievous disappointment which his returning from Mr. Thornton without assistance would occasion. However, with a heavy heart he handed the draft back to Mr. T., and betook himself to read the letter, by way of concealing his distressed countenance. He soon perceived the loss was even greater than Mr. T. had mentioned, and all his hopes died away.

In the meantime Mr. Thornton had been writing, and when the letter was returned to him, he said, "You see, my dear sir, how unpleasantly I am situated; however here is another paper, which I desire you will put in your pocket. The poor, hopeless clergyman took it, and opening it, found a draft for fifty pounds. He looked at Mr. T., as if doubting the evidence of his senses, but Mr. T. replied, "My dear sir, as the Almighty seems determined to deprive me of that wealth which he gave, and which he has so good a right to take away, I must be speedy, therefore, to give while it is in my possession."

The benevolent Dr. Wilson once discovered a clergyman at Bath, who, he was informed, was sick, poor, and had a numerous family. In the evening he gave a friend fifty pounds, requesting him to deliver it in the most delicate manner, and as from an unknown person. The friend said, "I will wait upon him early in the morning." "You will oblige me, sir, by calling directly. Think of what importance a good night's rest may be to that poor man."

Mr. Dudley was one evening taking tea with that eminent artist, Mr. Culy, when he asked him whether he had seen his gallery of busts. Mr. Dudley answering in the negative, and expressing a wish to be gratified with a sight of it, Mr. Culy conducted him thither, and after admiring the busts of the several great men of the day, he came to one which particularly attracted his notice, and on inquiry found it was the likeness of the Rev. John Wesley. "This bust," said Culy, "struck Lord Shelbourne in the same manner it does you, and there is a remarkable fact connected with it, which, as I know you are fond of anecdote, I will relate to you precisely in the same manner and words that I did to him. 'My lord,' said I, 'perhaps you have heard of John Wesley, the founder of the Methodists?' 'Oh, yes,' he replied; 'he—that race of fanatics!' 'Well, my lord; Mr. Wesley had often been urged to have his picture taken, but he always refused, alleging as a reason that he thought it nothing but vanity; indeed, so frequently had he been pressed on this point, that his friends were reluctantly compelled to give up the idea. One day he called on me on the business of our church. I began the old subject of entreating him to allow me to take off his likeness. 'Well,' said I, 'knowing you value money for the means of doing good, if you will grant my request, I will engage to give you ten guineas for the first ten minutes that you sit, and for every minute that exceeds that time you shall receive a guinea.' 'What!' said Mr. Wesley; 'Do I understand you aright, that you will give me ten guineas for having my picture taken? Well, I agree to it.' He then stripped off his coat, and lay on the sofa, and in eight minutes I had the most perfect bust I had ever taken. He then washed his face, and I counted to him ten guineas into his hand. 'Well,' said he, turning to his companion, 'I never till now earned money so speedily; but what shall we do with it?' They then wished me a good-morning, and proceeded over Westminster Bridge. The first object that presented itself to their view was a poor woman crying bitterly, with three children hanging round her, each sobbing, though apparently too young to understand their mother's grief. On inquiring the cause of her distress, Mr. Wesley learned that the creditors of her husband were dragging him to prison, after having sold their effects, which were inadequate to pay the debt by eighteen shillings, which the creditors declared should be paid. One guinea made her happy! They then proceeded on, followed by the blessings of the now happy mother. On Mr. Wesley's inquiring of Mr. Barton, his friend, where their charity was most needed, he replied he knew of no place where his money would be more acceptable than in Giltspur-street Comptor. They accordingly repaired thither, and on asking the turnkey to point out the most miserable object under his care, he answered, if they were come in search of poverty, they need not go far. The first ward they entered they were struck with the appearance of a poor wretch who was greedily eating some potato skins. On being questioned, he informed them that he had been in that situation, supported by the casual aims of compassionate strangers, for several months, without any hope of release, and that he was confined for the debt of half a guinea. On hearing this, Mr. Wesley gave him a guinea, which he received with the utmost gratitude, and he had the pleasure of seeing him liberated with half a guinea in his pocket. The poor man, on leaving his place of confinement, said, 'Gentlemen, as you came here in search of poverty, pray go up stairs, if it is not too late.' They instantly proceeded thither, and beheld a sight which called forth all their compassion. On a low stool, with his back towards them, sat a man, or rather a skeleton, for he was literally nothing but skin and bone; his hand supported his head, and his eyes seemed to be riveted on the opposite corner of the chamber, where lay stretched out on a pallet of straw a young woman, in the last stage of consumption, apparently lifeless, with an infant by her side, which was quite dead. Mr. Wesley immediately sent for medical assistance, but it was too late for the unfortunate female, who expired a few hours afterwards from starvation, as the doctor declared. You may imagine, my lord, that the remaining eight guineas would not go far in aiding such distress as this. No expense was spared for the relief of the now only surviving sufferer. But so extreme was the weakness to which he was reduced, that six weeks elapsed before he could speak sufficiently to relate his own history. It appeared that he had been a reputable merchant, and had married a beautiful young lady, eminently accomplished, whom he almost idolized. They lived happily together for some time, until, by failure of a speculation in which his whole property was embarked, he was completely ruined. No sooner did he become acquainted with his misfortune than he called all his creditors together, and laid before them the state of his affairs, showing them his books, which were in the most perfect order. They all willingly signed the dividend except the lawyer, who owed his rise in the world to this merchant; the sum was two hundred and fifty pounds, for which he obstinately declared he should be sent to jail. It was in vain the creditors urged him to pity his forlorn condition, and to consider his great respectability; that feeling was a stranger to his breast, and in spite of all their remonstrances, he was hurried away to prison, followed by his weeping wife. As she was very accomplished, she continued to maintain herself and her husband for some time solely by the use of her pencil, in painting small ornaments on cards; and thus they managed to put a little aside for the time of her confinement. But so long an illness succeeded this event, that she was completely incapacitated from exerting herself for their subsistence, and their scanty savings were soon expended by procuring the necessaries which her situation then required. They were driven to pawn their clothes, and their resources failing, they found themselves at last reduced to absolute starvation. The poor infant had just expired from want, and the hapless mother was about to follow it to the grave when Mr. Wesley and his friend entered; and, as I before said, the husband was so reduced from the same cause, that, without the utmost care, he must have fallen a sacrifice; and as Mr. Wesley, who was not for doing things by halves, had acquainted himself with this case of extreme misery, he went to the creditors and informed them of it. They were beyond measure astonished to learn what he had to name to them; for so long a time had elapsed without hearing any thing of the merchant or his family, some supposed him to be dead, and others that he had left the country. Among the rest he called on the lawyer, and painted to him, in the most glowing colors, the wretchedness he had beheld, and which he (the lawyer) had been instrumental in causing; but even this could not move him to compassion. He declared the merchant should not leave the prison without paying him every farthing! Mr. Wesley repeated his visit to the other creditors, who, considering the case of the sufferer, agreed to raise the sum and release him. Some gave one hundred pounds, others two hundred pounds, and another three hundred pounds. The affairs of the merchant took a different turn: God seemed to prosper him, and in the second year he called his creditors together, thanked them for their kindness, and paid the sum so generously obtained. Success continuing to attend him, he was enabled to pay all his debts, and afterwards realized considerable property. His afflictions made such a deep impression upon his mind, that de determined to remove the possibility of others suffering from the same cause, and for this purpose advanced a considerable sum as a foundation fund for the relief of small debtors. And the very first person who partook of the same was the inexorable lawyer!"

This remarkable fact so entirely convinced Lord Shelbourne of the mistaken opinion he had formed of Mr. Wesley, that he immediately ordered a dozen of busts to embellish the grounds of his beautiful residence.

Disinterestedness was a leading feature in the character of Luther; superior to all selfish considerations, he left the honors and emoluments of this world to those who delighted in them. The poverty of this great man did not arise from wanting the means of acquiring riches; for few men have had it in their power more easily to obtain them. The Elector of Saxony offered him the produce of a mine at Sneberg; but he nobly refused it; "Lest," said he, "I should tempt the devil, who is lord of these subterraneous treasures, to tempt me." The enemies of Luther were no strangers to his contempt for gold. When one of the popes asked a certain cardinal, why they did no stop that man's mouth with silver and gold; his eminence replied, "That German beast regards not money!" It may easily be supposed, that the liberality of such a man would often exceed his means. A poor student once telling him of his poverty, he desired his wife to give him a sum of money; and when she informed him they had none left, he immediately seized a cup of some value, which accidentally stood within his reach, and giving it to the poor man, bade him go and sell it, and keep the money to supply his wants. In one of his epistles, Luther says, "I have received one hundred guilders from Taubereim; and Scharts has given me fifty; so that I begin to fear, lest God should reward me in this life. But I will not be satisfied with it. What have I to do with so much money! I gave half of it to P. Priorus, and made the man glad."

Dr. Crow, chaplain to Bishop Gibson, bequeathed him two thousand five hundred pounds; but the bishop, understanding the doctor had left some poor relations, nobly resigned the whole legacy in their favor.

The church of Salies, (Basses, Pyrenees,) had been without collections for the poor, or those which had been made were so small that no good could be done with their produce. A Bible Society was established. After that time, Christians paid more attention to their Christian duties; the poor's box was richly replenished; system was introduced into the distribution of alms during the rigor of winter; four or five families, who had suffered by fire, were aided; wood was furnished to the poor, food to the aged, clothing to those in infancy, bread was distributed, &c. During the same year, the number of subscribers to the Bible Society was raised from FIFTY TO TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY.

# 46. Beneficence Rewarded by Gratitude and Respect.

During the severe distress which once visited some of the bankers and merchants of London, a man who had lived several years in the service of one of them, sent a note to his former master to this effect:—"Sir, I formerly lived some years in your father's family, and a few in your own. I saved seven hundred pounds. Can it be made of any use to you? If it can, it is yours: take it."

In Ramsay's "Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of African Slaves," he tells us, that in 1756 a fire happened in Barbadoes, which burned down a great part of the town and ruined many of the inhabitants. Joseph Rachel, a black trader, happily lived in a quarter that escaped destruction, and showed his thankfulness, by lessening the distresses of his neighbors. Among those who had lost their all by this heavy misfortune, was a man to whose family Joseph, in the early part of his life, owed some obligations. This man, by too great hospitality, had involved his affairs before the fire happened; and his estate lying in houses, that event entirely ruined him; he escaped with only the clothes on his back. Amidst the cries of misery and want which excited Joseph's compassion, this man's unfortunate situation claimed particular notice. The generous temper of the sufferer, and the obligations that Joseph owed to his family, were powerful motives for acting towards him a friendly part.

Joseph held his bond for sixty pounds sterling. "Unfortunate man," said he, "this shall never rise against thee. Never shalt thou apply for the assistance of any friend against my avarice." He got up, ordered a current account that the man had with him, to a considerable amount, to be drawn out, and in a whim that might have called up a smile on the face of charity, filled his pipe, sat down again, twisted the bond, and lighted his pipe with it. While the account was drawing out, he continued smoking, in a state of mind that a monarch might envy. When finished, he went in search of his friend, with the account discharged, and the mutilated bond in his hand. On meeting with him, he presented the papers to him, with this address:—"Sir, I am sensibly affected with your misfortunes: the obligations that I have received from your family give me a relation to every branch of it. I know that your inability to satisfy for what you owe, gives you more uneasiness than the loss of your own substance. That you may not be anxious on my account, accept of this discharge, and the remains of your bond. I am overpaid in the satisfaction I feel from having done my duty. I beg you to consider this only as a token of the happiness that you will impart to me, whenever you put it in my power to do you a good office." One may easily guess the man's feelings, and how much his mind must have been strengthened to bear up against his misfortunes.

The agent of the N. H. Domestic Miss. Society, was obtaining life subscriptions for the Society in the town of H.

After having obtained a few, he called on Mr. P., a liberal man, who, though not a professor of religion, was ready. without urging, to aid every benevolent object. The paper was presented, and he was left to act according to his own judgment. He was in debt, having a large sum to pay out as legacies from his father. But, said he, if I knew what duty was I would do it. He looked at the paper, and laid it down; looked, and laid it down again; but finally took his pen and signed his name, trusting to Providence to bear him through.

One portion of that legacy was to be paid to a brother then residing in a distant part of the country, a minister of the gospel, but who was not in need of more property. This brother came to the residence of the brother who owed the debt, on a visit. Through the mediation of a friend, the subject of the legacy was brought forward. "Name it not," said the minister; "I care nothing about it; let us seek the salvation of the soul of my brother." "No," said that friend, "your brother says he must have this settled; it is a burden to him, it stands in the way of his good." "Well, is my brother a good Society man?" "Yes," was the answer, and then the preceding incident was described to him. "Make out a paper; I am ready to sign any thing, even an acquittance of the whole." And he did it. And his mind was balanced to this act of benevolence to his brother, by the fact that he was so ready to do good, and gave when duty was so doubtful. Had he withheld in that one instance, he would probably have paid ten times the sum which he contributed for life-membership. Trust in the Lord and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed.

A venerable clergyman in the west of England, of the name of Thompson, had annually for many years made it his custom to distribute the overplus of his farm among the poor of his parish, after having supplied the wants of his own household.

One year, however, he was compelled to depart from this plan. His benevolence had led him to engage to give thirty pounds towards the erection of a chapel, in a town whose inhabitants needed more church room. He was compelled, instead of giving his corn to the poor, to sell as much of it as would raise the sum promised. He regretted the circumstance, but it was unavoidable.

Having thus procured the money, he left his home to be the bearer of his own benefaction. On the road he overtook a young lady, mounted on a single horse like himself, whom he accosted with frankness and kindness. They travelled together over a down, and found they were going to the same place. His conversation and manner won much on the respect of the young lady, who listened with attention to his serious and holy conversation. She learned his name, and his residence, and, when they were about to part, was invited by the old clergyman to call upon him at his friend's house in the town.

In the course of the evening, the young lady related with great pleasure, at her friend's where she was on a visit, the very gratifying journey she had travelled, with a clergyman of the name of Thompson.

"Thompson!" exclaimed the lady of the house; "I wish it was Mr. Thompson for whom we have for many years been inquiring in vain. I have money, tied up in a bag by my late husband, due to a person of that name, who desired to leave it till called for. But I suppose he is dead, and his executor, whoever he be, knows nothing of it." It was proposed that the old clergyman should be asked if this were any relation of his. He was sent for, came, and it soon appeared, that the Mr. Thompson, to whom the money was so long due, was his own brother, who had been dead several years, and to whose effects he was executor and residuary legatee.

The money was paid him; he fell on his knees, blessed God, who had thus interposed on behalf of his poor people, hastened to his friend to tell him the joyful news, and as he entered his house exclaimed, "Praise God: tell it in Gath, publish it in Askelon, that our God is a faithful God."

A young girl entered the shop of Mr. B., a bookseller, desiring him to exchange a prayer-book, which she brought with her, for a Bible. He gave her a Bible, and bade her keep the prayer-book also. Some time after, this girl was taken in the service of Rev. Mr. Cecil. On her first coming into the family, Mr. Cecil inquired if she had a Bible; to which she answered in the affirmative, and told him from whom she received it. Mr. Cecil was pleased with the circumstances, and finding out Mr. B., recommended him to his friends. During Mr. Cecil's absence from town, however, Mr. B. became involved in serious pecuniary difficulties, and was compelled to give up his business, and return to a mechanical employment, which he had learned in his youth. The violent exertion attendant on this occupation occasioned a painful illness: he remained some time in a hospital, but at length left, and retired to an obscure lodging, without any adequate means of support for himself and family. To this place Mr. Cecil, on his arrival in town, with difficulty traced him. An early interview took place, and Mr. B., having stated his misfortunes, "Well, B.," said Mr. Cecil, "what can be done for you? Would a hundred guineas be of any service to you?" "I should be truly thankful for such a sum," said B.; "it would be of great use to me, but I cannot expect it." "Well," returned Mr. Cecil, "I am not a rich man, and I have not got a hundred guineas to give you; but," continued he, putting his hand in his pocket, "I have got one; here it is at your service, and I will undertake to make it a hundred in a few days." Mr. Cecil represented the case to his friends, fulfilled his promise, and the Bible which B. had formerly given to a child, indirectly procured the means of once more opening his shop, and affording him subsistence.

FUL GIVER."—"How is it, Betty," said an elder of the church to a very poor woman in Wales, (who was always observed to contribute something whenever a collection was taken;) how is it that I always see you drop something in the plate? Where do you get it?" "Oh, sir, I do not know," she replied; "the Lord knows my heart and my good-will to his cause; and somehow or other, when a collection is to be made, I am sure to have my penny before me; and when it comes, I put it in the plate."

"Well," said he, "you have been faithful in a little, take this sovereign, and do what you will with it." "A sovereign, sir!" said she; "I never had so much money in my life as a sovereign; what shall I do with it?" "I dare say you will find means of spending it," said he, "if your heart is devoted to the Lord's cause." Soon after this, a man came round to solicit subscriptions for some benevolent object: he went to one of the elders, who gave him half a sovereign, and another gave him five shillings; both of which were regarded as very liberal donations. Not liking to pass by any member of the church, he asked this poor woman what she would do. "Put my name down for a sovereign." "A sovereign!" said he; "why, where did you get a sovereign?" "Oh, sir," said she, "I got it honestly: put my name down for a sovereign." She gave him the sovereign, and in about two weeks from that time she received a letter from Doctors' Commons informing her that a friend had just left her one hundred pounds!

About the year 1839, says Rev. W. H. Spencer, I attended the Bridgewater Association in Pennsylvania, and was called upon to preach a discourse on Foreign Missions. I felt deeply, and the sympathies of the audience became so enlisted in behalf of the object that an unusually large contribution was taken up.

In the afternoon a warm and excellent discourse was preached by another minister on Home Missions. During his sermon the intrinsic importance of the subject forced itself upon my mind, and led me to agitate the question how much it would be possible to give to the cause myself. I was indeed in a great strait between charity and necessity. I felt desirous to contribute; but then I was on a journey, and I had given so much in the morning, that I really feared I had no more money than would bear my expenses. But when, at the conclusion of the discourse, the speaker said he could hardly expect a large collection after the amount they had given in the morning, my mind was decided; and I arose and stated my convictions of the importance of Home Missions, and for the sake of example, I informed the assembly what were my circumstances, but that I had made up my mind to give a dollar and trust in God to provide. And the result was, that as large a contribution was obtained as in the morning. At the close of the Association I proceeded on my journey; and the next day called on a friend and paid him some forty dollars, which I had collected for him. I was now about 140 miles from home, with scarce a dollar in my pocket; and how my expenses would be met, I could not imagine. But judge my surprise, when on presenting the money to my friend he took a hundred dollars, and adding it to the forty, placed the whole amount in my hand, saying, he would make me a present of it! I had, to be sure, rendered him some small services of a similar nature before, but I considered him under no obligations, and was expecting nothing of the kind! Gratitude and joy swelled my bosom; my mind at once recurred to my contribution the day previous, and I felt convinced that I had seen a literal fulfilment of the promise, "Give and it shall be given unto you, good measure pressed down and running over, shall men give into your bosom."

At the recognition of a church in New-York, in 1847, the following incident was related:—

In a village in the southern part of New-York, the Baptist church had been for some time in a languishing condition. At length a new minister was called to labor with them. The church was poor, and he was supported principally by two or three individuals. With one of these, a physician, he boarded: he was a member of the church, and unusually benevolent, but his wife was an unconverted woman, rather parsimonious, and seemed to take umbrage at every act of her husband's liberality. The church met in a long, low, unfinished building, with the naked rafters overhead. At length a revival of religion occurred, and one of the converts was the physician's wife. Her heart was enlarged, and she said one day to her husband that they must have a new meeting-house. The doctor had about one thousand dollars laid up; and though his wife had often expressed her fears that her husband's generosity would force them to draw upon this little fund, and the family be reduced to want, she now suggested that he had better give the whole sum to the new meeting-house, and leave the result with God. He readily assented, and put down his name on the subscription list for a thousand dollars.

In the same congregation there was a wealthy farmer; his wife was pious and liberal, but he was worldly and avaricious. He was urged to subscribe to the same object; but he would neither give any thing himself or suffer his wife to give. As God would have it, an epidemic not long after made its ravages in the community, and the farmer and his children were taken very sick. The wife, we believe, was the only member of the family who escaped. The pious physician was called upon to attend them in their sickness; their disease was so malignant, and so long continued, that he received at least one thousand dollars for his services! So the avaricious farmer had to pay the liberal physician's subscription! The beneficence of the latter was thus amply rewarded, to say nothing of the large sums received from the increase of his practice in the community around him.

NOTE.—It would be wrong to argue from the foregoing examples that all benevolent efforts, donations, and alms, will be rewarded with the blessings of Providence in the present life. A man may give largely to-day, and die suddenly to-morrow; but then he receives his reward on high. Or, notwithstanding his liberality, God, who loves him as a Father, may see that he needs the moral discipline of adversity, and thus may apply the chastising rod for his spiritual profit. Or a man may give without discretion, or without proper regard to justice, as will be seen at 496, in the case of Goldsmith; or he may give merely from selfish motives, or at least without reference to God's glory, or regard to his promises. In such cases God does not pledge himself to grant the liberal any pecuniary or secular advantages in return for their liberality. But still we believe that God has so arranged his government that, as a general rule, the more men cherish and develop true benevolence, the more will the blessings of Providence be multiplied upon them. They will see no miracle wrought in their behalf; but God, working in and through natural laws, will often cause the most striking and beautiful connections between men's displays of goodness towards others, and his displays of goodness towards them. The cases alluded to above, are to be regarded as exceptions to the general rule. We heartily agree with the statement of Dr. Harris—and the foregoing incidents illustrate it—that "the most marked interpositions and signal blessings of even earthly prosperity, have attended the practice of Christian liberality in every age. Volumes might be filled with well attested instances of the remarkable manner in which God has honored those who in faith and obedience have devoted their property to Him."

# 48. Benevolence, Want of.

A gentleman who had been conspicuous in aiding a missionary collection, was met the following day by one of dissimilar habits, who chided him for the absurd eccentricity of which he deemed him guilty in giving to such an object and in such profusion. It was preposterous, he said, to be sending heaps of money abroad, to be spent, no one knew how, while there were so many unemployed and starving in —. "I will give — pounds to the poor of — if you will give an equal sum;" said the Christian friend. "I did not mean that," replied the objector; "but," continued he, "if you must go from home, why so far? Think of the miserable poor of Ireland." "I will give — pounds to the poor of Ireland, if you will give the same." "I do not mean that either," was the reply. No, it is neither this nor that, which this class of objectors exactly mean; but simply to veil their criminal parsimony by excepting against the proceedings of liberal men, whom, if they could not condemn, they must, for very shame, in some degree imitate.

A plain, good-hearted, matter-of-fact kind of man, who understood that a poor woman and her family were reduced to extreme distress by the loss of a cow, which was their principal support, generously went round among his neighbors to solicit that aid which he was unable to give himself. He told a plain, simple, and pathetic tale, and received from each a very liberal donation of regret, sorrow, sympathy, &c. But, thought he, this will not buy a cow, and he consequently redoubled his exertions, and to the same effect. He now lost all patience, and after being answered as usual by the son of Midas, with a plentiful shower of sympathetic feeling, "Oho, yes, I don't doubt your feeling, but you don't feel in the right place." "Oh," said he, "I feel with all my heart and soul." "Yes, yes," replied the solicitor, "I don't doubt that either, but I want you to feel in your pocket."

# 49. Benevolence Misdirected.

The father of that eminent lawyer, Mr. Sergeant Glanville, who lived in the days of Charles II. had a good estate, which he intended to settle on his eldest son; but he proving vicious, and affording no hope of reformation, he devolved it upon the sergeant, who was his second son. Upon his father's death, the eldest son, finding that what he had hitherto considered as the mere threat of his father was really true, became greatly dejected, and, in a short period, his character underwent an entire change. His brother, observing this, invited him, with a party of his friends, to a feast; and after several other dishes had been removed, he ordered one, covered up, to be set before his brother, which, on being examined, was found to contain the writings of the estate. The sergeant then told him that he had now done what he was sure their father would have done, had he lived to witness the happy change they all saw; and that he therefore freely conveyed to him the whole property.

About the year 1772, a grocer, of the name of Higgins, died, and left a considerable sum to a gentleman in London, saying to him, at the time that he made his will, "I do not know that I have any relations, but should you ever by accident hear of such, give them some relief." The gentleman, though thus left in full and undisputed possession of a large fortune, on which no person could have any legal claim, advertised for the next of kin to the deceased; and, after some months were spent in inquiries, he at length discovered a few distant relatives. He called them together to dine with him, and after distributing the whole of the money, according to the different degrees of consanguinity, paid the expenses of advertising out of his own pocket. ### 185. GOD, EX

A respectable widow lady, with a very small income, which she was obliged to eke out by the produce of her own industry and ingenuity, was remarkable for her generous liberality, especially in contributing to the cause of religion. When any work of pious benevolence was going forward, her minister hesitated to call on her, lest her liberal spirit should prompt her to contribute beyond her ability; but she was always sure to find out what was in hand, and voluntarily to offer a donation equal to those of persons in comparative affluence, accompanied by a gentle rebuke to her minister for having passed her by. In process of time, this lady came into the possession of an ample fortune, greatly to the joy of all who knew her willing liberality. But it was with no small degree of regret that her minister observed she no longer came forward unsolicited towards the cause of Christ, and that when applied to, she yielded her aid but coldly and grudgingly, and sometimes excused herself from giving at all. On one occasion she presented a shilling to the same cause to which she had formerly given a guinea, when in a state of comparative poverty. The minister felt it his duty to expostulate with her, and remind her of her former generosity when her means were so circumscribed. "Ah! sir," she affectingly replied, "then I had the shilling means, but the guinea heart; now I have the guinea means, but only the shilling heart. Then, I received from my heavenly Father's hand, day by day, my daily bread, and I had enough, and to spare; now, I have to look to my ample income, but I live in constant apprehension that I may come to want!" Can any reader be at a loss to decide which was the time of her poverty and which of her riches?

About eight years since, (says a correspondent of the N. Y. Evangelist of 1833,) in obtaining subscriptions for a benevolent purpose, I called upon a gentleman in one of our largest cities, who generously contributed to the object. Before leaving, I said to him, "How much, think you, will such an individual subscribe?" "I don't know," said he, "but could you hear that man pray, you would think he would give you all he is worth." I called upon him, but to my surprise, he would not contribute. As I was about to take my leave of him, I said to him, "As I came to your house, I asked an individual, what he thought you would probably give. 'I don't know,' said he, 'but could you hear that man pray, you would think he would give you all he is worth.' The man's head dropped, tears gushed from his eyes, he took out his pocket-book and gave me seventy-five dollars. He could not withstand this argument. His heart relented and his purse opened.