This narrative brought tears to all our eyes, and joy to our hearts. I visited some of the grog-shops around the village every day to supply their customers with temperance tracts. In the village proper, no liquor could be sold, as in all the deeds for lots there was a temperance clause that forfeited the property if liquor was sold; but all round the village the grog was abundant, and customers plenty. Passing one of these drinking places one day I saw several customers in, and entered the bar-room with my tracts. The liquor-sellers had got to know me, and often looked daggers at me. A good-looking man, well dressed, and about half drunk, was approaching the counter to get a six-cent drink. Said I, “My friend, I can give you something for six cents that will do you much more good, and no harm.” He asked me what it was, when I presented to him Baxter’s Call. I told him the liquor might kill him, and if he would read that book with prayerful attention, it might save his soul. He said he would buy the book if he had the money, but that he had only six cents to pay for that glass of liquor, which by this time was standing on the counter. We both came up to the counter, when I laid the book beside the glass, saying, “Here is life or death for six cents.” The grog-seller said I had no business to come there annoying his customers, and injuring his business. I urged the man at the risk of losing his soul to buy and read the book. The struggle seemed to be between life and death. At last he handed me the money, took the book, and went out of the room. I then handed the landlord a book worth more than the whiskey, and told him to read it, and then sell it to make up the loss. This is only a sample of every day occurrences in village and city colportage. Eternity only will reveal the results. At the request of the proprietors of a large rolling-mill, I visited those in their employ. Among them was a man that professed to be a kind of Universalist preacher. He was a boss over a number of hands, and I was told was shrewd and fond of argument, and was doing much injury in propagating his opinions. Late one evening I called at his rooms. There was no one in but his wife. I conversed with her some time, and found her a pious Christian woman. I asked her about her husband. She burst into tears, and said he was a kind husband, but a wicked man; that he preached sometimes, and was a Universalist. While I was urging her to labor and pray for his salvation, a fine-looking man, of a haughty mien and deportment, came in. I arose and introduced myself, and asked if he was Mr. V----, the gentleman of the house. He replied that he was. I then told him I was a colporteur visiting from house to house, selling and giving books, and talking and praying with the people.