Litchfield enquirer., 1829-12-24

had lost his sight by disease. Ibis blind leader of the blind used to lecture on delsm In what was called the Assembly Room, in William.streol. William was led by some of his now associates into this dun. gcon of despair and drunk deep In their dark and choerless doctrine. ln short time he came out flaming delst, and ln- stead of going with his wife and children to church, he Tod thom to Long Island, or the folds in Jersey, or ho went, by himself, to a low tavern and hHrangued on Tom Paine's Ago of Reason, to any set ofblock- heads, who would hear him. His children as they grew up, being left to wander us they pleased, soon associated with bad company, and turned out worse than good for nothing. llo had commenced business for himself, and for some tim0 was in a very thriving way. But now, every thing was forgot in his zeal for plopagating hiS new principles. You might find him in every street and corner, pouring out his new light and so vulgar and brUtish was tho language in which he blaSphemed eVe- ry thing which society in general holds sa. cred, and moderate men of any principle got disgus,cd--shunned his compuny and shop, and his worldly circumstances began Co fall into decay. As old-shopnatcs, he and I ever havo boen, and now are, on tho most friendly terms when wo meet aud from tho beginning havo I expostulated and warned him of the ruin he was bring. ing on himself and family in this world laying the next aside. Though he could not deny the truth of what said, yet ho seemed like ono who had gone so far that he was ashamed to recode. One morning about ten o'clock, few weeks ago, he called on mo and asked for something to buy his breakfast, as he had not tasted any thing that day. looked on him with sor- row, almost crying. Says I, William, has it really come to this with you? Ho said he had not cent--a friend, or child, to help him in the world. l asked for his sons and daughters, by namc--they had all gone to ruin, or were dead. The few old friends of the William.street Illuminati, now that he was poor, know him not. gave him small sun, and told him to call on me in his extremity. Says 1, William, there aro my sons and daughters ; they arc an honor to their parents, being all use. ful members of society. Your children and mine were brought up neighbors to one an. other--what should mako them to differ Ho was silent. Says l, l told you thirty. four years ago, your mad principles woult beggar youself, and ruin your family.- While you carried your children to tht
 fields, or left them to wander in tho roat
 of destruction, l carried mine to church
 whero they were not exposed to bad com
 pany; and now they walk in the ways 0 wisdom, which are pleasan,ness and peace I added, you must now be convinced lha religion is the best thing for this world and in the next, they who profess ie vii Do as we'll off as you. But if the Bible i true, you may say with the miser, [ wa.
 starved in this, and damned in that which
 is to come. He confessed had the bes, ofthe argument, and said he might have been rich man if he had stuck to the principles he had brought with him from England. He said he thought of going in- to the alms-house--it was a good last.re. treat; and for this, says l, William you have to thank Christianity; where the 'Bi- bio is not known, they have neither alms- house nor hospital. 1 have only to add, that this story is no fiction, nor combina- ton of characters that may have existed ; but it is literally truc. My friend Will iam now lives, (you know him,) he is a man of truth, and will vouch for what I have said, were he asked. If any one doubts, you may give them my name. will point them to some of tho mon, still alive, ofwhom speak. Yours, CARDUs. ..Onc of the young mon of whom speak, was baker; in fit ofiDtcmperance, while working dough in the trough; alone, he lost his balance, tumbcd in with his head bur,ed in dough- and in this situation was found dead. This fact is known to scores o his countTymeD now in this city.