"Few men stood more in need of Christian graces," said I. "If he is,
indeed, numbered with the saints, there is cause for rejoicing."

"By their fruits ye shall know them," responded my friend. "I will
believe his claim to the title of Christian, when I see the fruit in
good living. If he have truly passed from death unto life, as they
say, he will work the works of righteousness. A sweet fountain will
not send forth bitter waters."

My friend but expressed my own sentiments in this, and all like
cases. I have learned to put small trust in "profession;" to look
past the Sunday and prayer-meeting piety of people, and to estimate
religious quality by the standard of the Apostle James. There must
be genuine love of the neighbor, before there can be a love of God;
for neighborly love is the ground in which that higher and purer
love takes root. It is all in vain to talk of love as a mere ideal
thing. Love is an active principle, and, according to its quality,
works. If the love be heavenly, it will show itself in good deeds to
the neighbor; but, if infernal, in acts of selfishness that
disregard the neighbor.

"I will observe this Mr. Gray," said I, as I walked homeward from
the company, "and see whether the report touching him be true. If he
is, indeed, a 'Christian,' as they affirm, the Christian graces of
meekness and charity will blossom in his life, and make all the air
around him fragrant."

Opportunity soon came. Fletcher Gray was a store-keeper, and his
life in the world was, consequently, open to the observation of all
men. He was likewise a husband and a father. His relations were,