Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1830-04-07

believe, was then the pastor lie contlued a
consistent professor, attending church regularly
with his wife and children. But, William was a
warm politician a democrat as red-h0t the iron
he hammered. lie was soon found out by the
radicals of that day. About this time there came
to the city man by the name of Palmer, who
was either born blind or had lost his sight by disease
This blind leader Of the blind used to lecture on
Deism in what was called the Assembly Room,
in William-street. William was led by some Of
his new associates into the dungeon Of despair,
and drunk deep in their dark and cherries doc
trine In short time he came out flaming
Dcist, and instead of going with his wife and chill
dren to Church, he led them to Long Island, or
the fields in Jersey or he went by himself, to low
tavern and harangued on Tom Paines Age of
Reason, to any set of blockheads who would hear
him. Ills children he grew up, being left to
wander as they pleased, soon associated with bad
company and turned out worse than good for Moth
ing lie had commenced business for himself,
and for some time in n very thriving way.
But now, every thing was forgot in his zeal
for propagating his new principles. You might
find him IN every street and corner, pouring out
his new light and so vulgar and british was the
language in which he blasphemed every thing
which society in general holds sacred, that noder-
ate men of any principle got disgusted-shunnedh his
| company and shop, and his worldly circumstances
began to fall into decay. As old shOp-mates, he
| and ever have been, and now are on the most
| friendly terms when we meet and from the be-
| ginning have expostuated and warned him Of the
ruin he was bringing on himself and family in this
world, laying the next aside. Though he could
not deny the truth of what said, yet he seemed
like one who had gone so far that he was ashamed
| to recede.
| One morning about ten o'clock, few weeks
II .I,.I IN
buy his breakfast, as he had not tasted any thing
that day. looked on him with sorrow, almost
| crying. Saws |, William, has it really come to
this with YOU He said he had not cent-a
friend, or child, to help him in the world. l ask
| ed for his sons and daughters, by name-they had
| all gone to ruin or were dead. The few old friends
| of the Willam-street Ilhminati, now that he was
| poor, knew him not. l gave lrn small sum,
| and told him to call on me i'll his extremity
Says l, William, there are my sons and daughter
they are an honor to their parents, being all useful
members of society. Your children and nine
were brought up neighbors to one another-what
should make them to differ He was silent
Says l, told you thirty-four years ago, your mad
| principles would beggar yourself, and ruin your
family. While you carried your children to the
| fields, or left them to wander in the road Of des-
truction, | carried mine to church, where they
were not eApOSeu W uuu "hu Nv" eioy
| walk in the ways Of wisdom, which are pleasant
hess and peace. l added, you must now be con-
vnced that religion is the best thing for this world
and in the next they who profess it will be well
off as you But if the Bible be true, you may say
| with the mser, was starved in this, and damned
in that which is to come. lie confessed had
the best of the argument, and said he might have
been a rich man if he had stuck to the principles
| he had brought with him from England. He sid
he thought Of going into the alms-house-it vas
a good last-retreat and for this, says !, Willim
you have to thank Christianity where the Bible
is not known, they have neither ams-house nor
hospital have only to add, that this story is no
fiction nor combination of characters that may have
existed ; but is literally true. My friend William
now lives, (you know him. he is man of truth,
and will vouch for what have said, were he ask
ed. Ifany one doubts, you may give them my
name. | will point them to some of the men, still
alive, of whom speak Yours, CARDUs.