INTRODUCTION.

many a so-called "Wealthy" and
Wealthy" and "Successful "
going out into Eternity unsaved?

GRASPED THE DUNGHILL, MISSED THE STARRY CROWN.

"In my early life, I, too, had my calls to Piety and Religion -but I slighted them! The faithful God,-the precious Saviour, came humbly knocking at my door too, in days. that long since are over, and are gone! But I wished to be a wealthy and successful' man, I slighted many Convictions! I grasped-for many a year-the treasures of a dying World, but I missed the tide, it was God's will should have borne me to my Heavenly Home! I grasped-for many a long year-the riches and the pleasures of a Phantom, Dying World! I grasped Earth's Dunghill,-I missed the starry Crown! Reader! be wise,-before Death comes to thee! Reader! be wise before Eternity!

He spake also this parable; A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found

none.

Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, "Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?''

And he answering said unto him, "Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it;

"And if it bear fruit, well; and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down."

Is there not in this solemn Parable a Lesson for us all?

CHAPTER I.

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

HERE was a man, named Warrington, who lived on the confines of an American Forest.

His house was made of logs, and pleasantly situated in a small valley, by the side of a little river. It was seven miles from the dwelling of any white person, and the road to the nearest settlement lay through the thick forest.

But although Mr. Warrington dwelt in a place so lonely, he did not feel his solitude.

He had a wife and two children; these he loved very much, and they saved him from feeling that he was alone.

Of the children, the eldest was a girl, Laura, nine years old; the other, John, a little boy of seven. They were very pretty children, and, what is better, were very good; Laura, only, being rather too fond of wandering in the woods. Not far from Mr. Warrington's house there was an Indian, by name Shaumut. He lived in a small hut made of the branches of trees, covered with red turf. He was on the whole a good and friendly man; though, like the other Indians, he dwelt in the forest, and lived in a wild and savage manner.

Now it happened that two bad white men who lived at the settlement, seven or eight miles from Mr. Warrington's, knowing that he lived alone, determined to rob him of what they could get.

Accordingly, one night they came into his house, and carried off several articles of considerable value in the estimation of a settler. The whole family being asleep, and the log hut being but insecure, they escaped in safety.

The thieves now went towards Shaumut's Hut, taking care to drop one or two of the things as they passed along ; for, being known as bad characters by the whole settlement, they had hit upon this expedient of getting the Indian to be suspected of the robbery. When the morning came the robbery was discovered.

It was then the custom to lay every misfortune upon the Indians, and every crime that was committed was set down to the red man. It was natural, therefore, that Mr. Warrington should impute the robbery to them. After thinking of it a little time, he resolved to go to Shaumut, and see if he could discover the truth.

While he was on his way he stumbled on one of the articles

22

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

which the rogues had dropped; and as it was in a path which led but to the red man's hut, he did not care to go there alone, being now convinced that Shaumut had been the thief.

He repaired at once to the white settlement, and told the people what had happened. All agreed that the Indian was the robber, and none were more sure of it than the two white men who had themselves committed the crime.

It was determined that Shaumut should be instantly punished; and four men, armed with guns, returned with Mr. Warrington to his house, for the purpose of carrying this scheme into execution.

They waited until it was dark, and then repaired to the scene of action. Shaumut's house, as I said before, consisted of sticks covered with sods. It was a kind of hut called a "Wigwam."

In a Wigwam there is no door, but the Indians pass in and out through a small hole, by creeping on their hands and knees. It was about ten o'clock, on a summer s evening, that Warrington and his companions surrounded the red man's Wigwam. The Indian and his wife and three children were already asleep. Not thinking of danger, they were all reposing on their bear-skin beds, enjoying their rest, which the labours of hunting and fishing, in which their lives were passed, made doubly sweet.

Suddenly the silence of the night was broken by the sound of a musket. Shaumut heard the noise, and creeping out of his wigwam, was met by Mr. Warrington, who charged him with the theft. Shaumut denied the charge. "Theft," said he, "is the white man's crime; the red man's hand may wield the tomahawk, or pull the bowstring, but his fingers cannot steal."

But, in spite of his declaration, Warringon and his friends. believed the poor Indian was guilty; it was true they could find none of the stolen articles anywhere about his wigwam, but what so easy as to hide or bury them? They, therefore, drove him and his family from their home, and then set it on fire. At the same time they told the Indian to leave that place, and never to return to it. Thus the poor red man was forced to see his dwelling-place consumed, his wife and children without a shelter, and his own name branded with crime. But, like all Indians-silent-he said nothing. He gloomily plunged into the forest, and followed by his family, disappeared from the little Valley where he had so long dwelt.

Some time had passed away, and the events which I have related were almost forgotten. Shaumut had never re-appeared,

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

and it was supposed he had gone away to the Far West.

23

One day that Summer, it was necessary for Mr. Warrington and his wife to go to the Settlement which I have already mentioned. They set out early in the morning, with the intention of returning at night.

Having given strict charge to their children to remain at home, they felt no anxiety, but went on their long walk with light hearts.

They had not been long gone when the children, feeling dull in the house, proposed to each other to play in the Woods near; for, though their parents had told them to stay at home, they would go but a very little way, and keep the hut in sight. But the day was very pleasant; the wild fruit and nuts were in abundance; the large butterflies (not like those in England, but several inches across the wings) of lovely colours were flitting about; the squirrels eating the nuts were leaping from bough to bough; and the birds occasionally filled the forest with their voices. And thus it was that the two children wandered on, and spent two or three hours, insensibly going further from their home. They now, however, determined to return. But though they walked for some time they saw no trace of their home, for they had missed their way! They wandered about for some time, and neither dared tell to each other that they were lost! But at length they looked into each other's faces, and began to cry. For some time they remained at the foot of a tree, lamenting their disobedience, and expressing their anxiety to each other; but by-and-by they arose, and, excited by their fears, they walked on as fast as the thick trees and bushes would permit. A recent writer, Mr. Bates, thus describes these immense forests of America : "The few sounds of birds are of that pensive character which intensifies the feeling of solitude, rather than imparts a source of life and cheerfulness in these trackless wilds. Sometimes in the midst of the stillness a sudden yell or scream will startle one, as some defenceless fruit-eating animal is pounced upon by a tiger-cat or stealthy boa-constrictor. Morning and

evening the howling monkeys make a most harrowing noise, under which it is impossible to keep one's usual spirits. Often in the still hours of mid-day a sudden crash will be heard resounding through the wilderness, as some great bough or entire tree falls to the ground. There are besides many sounds which it is impossible to account for; and I found the Indian natives generally as much at a loss in this respect as myself. Sometimes a sound is heard like the clang of an iron bar against a hollow tree, or a piercing cry rends the air;