Ben used to say, many years afterwards, that this conduct of his friend Ralph put him in mind of an anecdote he had some where heard, of good old Gilbert Tenant: the same that George Whitefield generally called HELL-FIRE TENANT. This eminent divine, believing _fear_ to be a much stronger motive with the multitude than _love_, constantly made a great run upon that passion in all his discourses. And Boanerges himself could hardly have held a candle to him in this way. Nature had given him a countenance which he could, at will, clothe with all the terrors of the tornado. And besides he had a talent for painting the scenes of dread perdition in such colours, that when aided by the lightning of his eyes, and the bursting thunders of his voice, it was enough to start the soul of lion-hearted innocence; what then of rabbit-livered guilt? The truth is, he wrought miracles in New-Jersey: casting out devils--the devils of drunkenness, gambling, and lust, out of many a wretch _possessed_. Among the thousands whom he thus frightened for their good, was a tame Indian of Woodbury, who generally went by the name of Indian-Dick. This poor savage, on hearing Mr. Tenant preach, was so terrified, that he fell down in the meeting house, and roared as if under the scalping knife. He lost his stomach: and even his beloved bottle was forgotten. Old Mr. Tenant went to see Dick, and rejoiced over him as a son in the gospel;--heartily thanking God for adding this INDIAN GEM to the crown of his glory. Not many days after this, the man of God took his journey through the south counties of New-Jersey, calling the poor clam-catchers of Cape May to repentance. As he returned and drew near to Woodbury, lo! a great multitude! He rejoiced in spirit, as hoping that it was a meeting of the people to hear the word of God: but the uproar bursting upon his ear, put him in doubt.