“He told me” replied Mr. Leyton, “that he had a son whose fate tormented him more than his punishment. Indeed his mind was so distracted respecting the youth, that he was scarcely able to understand my exhortations. He entreated me with agonising energy to save his son from such a life as he had led, and gave me the address of a woman in whose house he lodged. I was, however, unable to find the boy in spite of many earnest inquiries.” “Did you hear his name?” asked the wife. “George West,” was the reply. At the mention of his name, the boy ceased to sob. Breathlessly he heard the account of his father’s last request, of the benevolent clergyman’s wish to fulfil it. He started up, ran towards the door, and endeavoured to open it; Mr. Leyton calmly restrained him, “You must not escape,” he said. “I cannot stop here. I cannot bear to look at you. Let me go!” The lad said this wildly, and shook himself away. “Why, I intend you nothing but kindness.” A new flood of tears gushed forth; and George West said between his sobs, “Whilst you were searching for me to help me, I was trying to burn you in your house. I cannot bear it.” He sunk on his knees, and covered his face with both hands. There was a long silence, for Mr. and Mrs. Leyton were as much moved as the boy, who was bowed down with shame and penitence, to which hitherto he had been a stranger. At last the clergyman asked, “What could have induced you to commit such a crime?” Rising suddenly in the excitement of remorse, gratitude, and many feelings new to him, he hesitated for a moment, and then told his story; he related his trials, his sins, his sorrows, his supposed wrongs, his burning anger at the terrible fate of his only parent, and his rage at the exultation of the crowd: his desolation on recovering from his swoon, his thirst for vengeance, the attempt to satisfy it. He spoke with untaught, child-like simplicity, without attempting to suppress the emotions which successively overcame him. When he ceased, the lady hastened to the crouching boy, and soothed him with gentle words. The very tones of her voice were new to him. They pierced his heart more acutely than the fiercest of the upbraidings and denunciations of his old companions. He looked on his merciful benefactors with bewildered tenderness. He kissed Mrs. Leyton’s hand then gently laid on his shoulder. He gazed about like one in a dream who dreaded to wake. He became faint and staggered. He was laid gently on a sofa, and Mr. and Mrs. Leyton left him. Food was shortly administered to him, and after a time, when his senses had become sufficiently collected, Mr. Leyton returned to the study, and explained holy and beautiful things, which were new to the neglected boy: of the great yet loving Father; of Him who loved the poor, forlorn wretch, equally with the richest, and noblest, and happiest; of the force and efficacy of the sweet beatitude, “Blessed are the Merciful for they shall obtain Mercy.”