one ear and go out at the other. From
earliest childhood he had received careful instruction. Parents,
teachers and preachers, had all shared in the work of storing his mind
with the precepts of religion, and now, in manhood, his conscience
rested on these and upon the states wrought therefrom in the
impressible substance of his mind. Try as he would, he found the effort
to push aside early convictions and early impressions a simple
impossibility; and, notwithstanding these had been laid on the
foundation of a far more literal interpretation of Scripture than the
one to which he had just been listening, his maturer reason accepted
the preacher's clear application of the law; and conscience, like an
angel, went down into his heart, and troubled the waters which had been
at peace.

Mr. Braxton was a man of thrift. He had started in life with a purpose,
and that purpose he was steadily attaining. To the god of this world he
offered daily sacrifice; and in his heart really desired no higher good
than seemed attainable through outward things. Wealth, position, honor,
among men--these bounded his real aspirations. But prior things in his
mind were continually reaching down and affecting his present states.
He could not forget that life was short, and earthly possessions and
honors but the things of a day. That as he brought nothing into this
world, so he could take nothing out. That, without a religious life, he
must not hope for heaven. In order to get free from the disturbing
influence of these prior things, and to lay the foundations of a future
hope, Mr. Braxton became a church member, and, so far as all Sabbath
observances were concerned, a devout worshiper. Thus he made a truce
with conscience, and conscience having gained so much, accepted for a
period the truce, and left Mr. Braxton in good odor with himself.

A man who goes regularly to church, and reads his Bible, cannot fail to
have questions and controversies about truths, duties, and the
requirements of religion. The barest literal interpretation of
Scripture will, in most cases, oppose the action of self-love; and he
will not fail to see in the law of spiritual life a requirement wholly
in opposition to the law of natural life. In the very breadth of this
literal requirement, however, he finds a way of escape from literal
observance. To give to all who ask; to lend to all who would borrow; to
yield the cloak when the coat is taken forcibly; to turn the left ch