Walters could not well refuse Thomas any favour.  Not only was he obliged to respect this humble Christian for his consistent walk, but he owed him a large debt of gratitude; for when he and his family all lay ill at one time of an epidemic fever, the Burtons, when no one else would go near the house, waited on them day and night.  He was a little mortified that the good watchman had been witness of his violent behaviour on the day before,—­he feared some expostulation on the part of his worthy neighbour; but Thomas wisely forbore to say anything at present in the boy’s behalf, thinking he could serve him better by silent observation, and not interfering until a suitable time.

Very pleasantly did this Sabbath-day pass with William.  How he enjoyed the service in the plain church where the Burtons worshipped!  It reminded him of home days, and in the softened mood of his heart every word uttered by the preacher told.  The beautiful words of the text, which the Saviour spoke to his disciples, “Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me;” and its following words, in which the Comforter is promised,—­came like healing balm upon his wounded spirit, and he bowed his soul in humble gratitude to the great Head of the Church, who, in suffering him once more to enjoy the privileges of the sanctuary, had also satisfied him with spiritual food.

The evening passed pleasantly away, although the conversation, turning on the events of the preceding day, brought a blush to William’s pale cheeks and tears to his eyes.  The old watchman, although rude and uneducated, was yet a true Christian, and as such, admonished the desolate child with all the tenderness of a father.  When our hero told him how he had been tempted to run away on the day the shoes fell into the gutter, and how harshly he had been treated, not only on that occasion, but always; and how hard it was for him to observe the rule of duty, which he well knew, when Jem Taylor, the only one who ever showed him any kindness, was always advising him to pursue a course to which the human heart is naturally inclined, but which his conscience told him was wrong.

“That is all very true,” said Thomas; “but you must remember that all set out on a race for one stopping-place, to which there are two roads.  You have read in your Bible about the wide and the strait gate.  ‘Enter in,’ it says, ’at the strait gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth unto destruction, and many there be that go in thereat.  Because strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.’  Now, my boy, God has taken away your earthly joys, and made the way narrow to you; hedged your path with thorns, and caused you to weep bitter tears every day.  We know, too, that no affliction for the present is joyous, but grievous:  and as our light afflictions, which, in comparison with eternity, endure but for a moment, work out for us a far more exceeding