frantic rage, plucking out the hair of their heads, and loud wailings of sadness and grief resounded from every quarter; when lo! a herald on the walls proclaimed the joyful tidings that the children were returning; then they rushed to behold the glad sight. And when they saw them driving before them their perfidious preceptor, Joy and admiration filled their breasts, and they exclaimed, "Our enemies are more generous and kind than our friends, we will no longer resist against such kind enemies," and they gave up the keys of the city to the Roman general, who returned them with presents, saying, he wished to take no advantage of an enemy, and marched away his army.

Several years ago, when I was attending a school at Hartford, Ct., there were two young lads, members of the school, of opposite characters. One was remarkably amiable, and distinguished for his mild and kind disposition, the other delighted in teasing, insulting and abusing him. The young man endured all this abuse with patience and meekness, and the next day after the other had spit in his face, he purchased some oranges, and gave one of the best of them to his persecutor, when, in an instant, his face was crimsoned with shame and mortification. After that, he was never known to treat this young man, or any others, unkindly; and from being the most quarrelsome, he became one of the most peaceable members of the school.

A MORNING IN NEWGATE.

Says a distinguished philanthropist, "I had long wished an opportunity to witness the effects of Mrs. Fry's benevolent exertions. The female prisoners, to the number of forty or fifty, were cleanly and decently dressed. Mrs. Fry read from the Bible the story of Mary Magdalene, with remarks in so gentle and encouraging a manner, that it was impossible not to be moved by the quiet pathos of her discourse. Her auditors listened with the most serious and earnest attention, and many were melted to tears. Mrs. Fry recounted some of the obstacles against which she had to contend. It seems, however, that there is scarcely any disposition so depraved that may not be touched by KIND

NESS.

The patient and persevering efforts of Mrs. Fry, have succeeded in softening and reclaiming the most hardened, whom severity would prob ably have rendered more callous and desperate. There is a shame of appearing ungrateful, which operates strongly in even the most vicious breasts. Mrs. Fry said, that when, as it sometimes happens, a prisoner, after her discharge, finds her way back to the jail for some fresh offence, the delinquent is more afraid of meeting her kindness, than of facing the reproof of the Bench."

"There lies more peril, lady, in thine eye,
Than twenty of their swords."

ROLAND HILL AND THE ROBBER.

ROLAND HILL was once waylaid by a robber, who, with pistol in hand, demanded his money. Mr. Hill gazed at him with a mild and benevolent look, and kindly remonstrated with him to abandon such a dreadful course, which must soon end in ruin. Tears started from the robber's eyes, while he fell upon his knees, and begged his pardon. Mr. Hill took him home and made him his coachman, and he became a reformed and good man, and after being twenty years in Mr. Hill's family, died a peaceful death.

PROSTITUTES RECLAIMED.

One evening, as Mr. Hill was returning home from a lecture, two prostitutes overtook him, and took hold of his arms, and asked him if he would go home with them. He replied, that he was but a short distance from home, and preferred that they should go with him. They consented. When they had arrived, he hinted to Mrs. Hill the character of his visitors, took his Bible, read, and then prayed fervently, espe cially for the females. They were very kindly treated. In the morning they were invited to breakfast with the family, and after family wor ship, Mr. H. addressed them in a gentle and tender manner, on the danger, degradation, and

consequence of vice. They were melted to tears, and expressed their desire to reform. Mr. Hill placed them under the care of good families, and they manifested the sincerity of their repentance, by living consistent and virtuous lives, respected by all who knew them.

THE BANDIT CAPTAIN AND THE APOSTLE ST. JOHN.

It is related of the Evangelist John, that a young man of superior talents, was hopefully converted under his labors, who for some time was noted for his exemplary piety; but at length he gradually backslid, and finally became the leader of a band of robbers.. John learned the retreat of the band, and went alone in search of it. On his arrival, he requested one of the banditti to conduct him to their leader; he did so; but the moment he saw John he attempted to flee. "Hold, my son !" exclaimed John, in a kind and affectionate tone, "I will not harm you." He stopped; John clasped him in his arms. The young man melted to tears, and begged his pardon. John mildly says, "It is against God that you have sinned, ask pardon of him." He then smote on his breast, and like the publican, plead for mercy. Many of the robbers who were standing around were melted to

tears. After praying, he arose and addressed his followers thus: "I have been your leader in crime; but I am resolved to be your leader in repentance." Part of them expressed their determination to follow his example. Thus the band of robbers was broken up, and a few of them, with their chief, became active and devoted Christians. Therefore, let us not despair, even of reclaiming the most hardened, with this engine of heaven.

THE SHEEP STORY; OR, WM. LADD AND HIS NEIGHBOR.

"I had, the Apostle of peace used to say, in relating the anecdote, "a fine field of grain growing upon an out-farm at some distance from the homestead. Whenever I rode by, I saw my neighbor Pulsifer's sheep in the lot, destroying my hopes of a harvest. These sheep were of the gaunt, long-legged kind, active as paniels; they would spring over the highest fence, and no partition-wall could keep them out. I complained to neighbor Pulsifer about them; sent him frequent messages, but all without avail. Perhaps they would keep out for a day or two, but the legs of his sheep were long, and my grain more tempting than the adjoining pasture. I rode by again-the sheep were still