gold lying over the table, and they seemed to be gambling in earnest and for large amounts. The devotion of this old man to cards or gambling was so remarkable that I confess I was somewhat surprised to see him enter the ballroom with his wife among the first of those who assembled to hear me preach on the Sabbath. I had preached at a court-house, a few miles away, in the morning, and returned here to address the people at four in the afternoon. There was a general attendance of the visitors, including the well-known professional gamblers, and all gave me as respectful a hearing as I could desire. I was furnished with a Bible for the occasion, but there was no hymn-book. I expected to resort to the expedient of "lining out" some familiar hymns, which was the most frequent method of singing in this region. But the old card-player came forward to the table where I was sitting, and handed me an Old School Presbyterian hymn-book, which I had seen his wife bring into the ballroom, and which she sent up for my use, as she saw there was no hymn-book on the table. Some months after I recognized the aged couple in a large city congregation to which I was preaching, and was afterward told by its honored and beloved pastor that the old man was one of the most regular and attentive attendants at his church, and that his habits as I have described them were widely known. His manner was so apparently reverential, and his attention so marked, that strangers preaching there often got the impression that he was one of the elders of the church. So strange and paradoxical are the "characters that make up the world."