A man who had once been a thief, and was afterwards converted, wrote an account of his life. Among other stories he told this: “Three of us, one winter’s evening, were marking the house of a man, in which we were told there was a good deal of money, and which we intended to rob that night. As we came near, however, we heard singing; and when that was over, the family kneeled down to pray. We heard the father pray that God would protect them from all harm and danger. He prayed for the neighborhood, and for all mankind, that sinners might be turned from their evil ways, and made to know the Saviour, in whom alone peace and salvation were to be found. I saw that my companions were startled; but they tried to turn it off. For myself, I could not get over the effect of what I had heard. It made me feel very uneasy. It brought back the remembrance of the instructions I had received when a boy. I felt that I couldn’t do anything that night. “Let us go,” I said; “we’ve seen enough.”
“But we haven’t seen the back of the house,” said one of my companions, “and we don’t know the best way to get in. Don’t you mean to come tonight?”
“No,” said I, “this is no place for us;” and, as I was the leader of the gang, we went away.
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