Bishop George had attended the Methodist General Conference at Philadelphia and was now on his return journey. Places for lodging at night along the way had been appointed him, as was the custom in those days. Arriving rather late one evening at one of these, he found a mirthful company in which a young minister was playing his part in frivolities-now chattering, now bandying foolish jests with a young lady, now engaged in trifling repartee with another, while nothing becoming a minister of Christ escaped his lips.

The stranger had come in with his saddle-bags, without giving his name. He sat in a vacant chair, alone, where he could see and hear all that was going on, and his anxious eyes showed that he was no careless observer of what was transpiring around him. Grieved and shocked at what he saw and heard, he asked for a candle and to be shown where he was to spend the night. There, for sometime he found comfort and refreshment of spirit from a well-worn Bible he had drawn out of his saddle-bag:after which he kneeled, and was still engaged in prayer when the young minister, whose room and bed the old man was to share, came in, and was arrested by the last few fervent pleadings that he heard. In silence he went to bed, and the old man having risen from his knees, slowly undressed and got into bed beside his companion.

"And how far have you come to-day?" asked the young man, whose conscience, no doubt, was ill at ease.

"I've come thirty-five miles."

"Indeed! So you must be tired after so long a journey for one of your age."

"Yes, this poor old body is well worn with constant travel."

"You do not belong to Springfield then?"

"No, I have no permanent abiding place here."

"And how far have you traveled on your present journey?"

"From Philadelphia."

"From Philadelphia! The Methodist General Conference was in session there a short time since. Had it broken up when you left?"

"It adjourned the day before I started."

"Ah, indeed! Had Bishop George left when you came away?"

"Yes, we started in company."

"Indeed! And how did the bishop look? He is getting rather old and feeble, is he not?"

"He carries age tolerably well, though he begins to show signs of failing strength."

"He is expected this way in a week or two; how glad I shall be to shake hands with the old veteran! But you say you left in company; how far did you come together?"

"We keep company and travel together."

"You, intimate with Bishop George?"

"Yes, why not?"

"Bless me! I should like to have known that! And may I enquire your name?"

After a moment's hesitation, the stranger replied, "My name is George."

"George! Not Bishop George, surely?"

"Yes, they call me Bishop George."

"Bless me! Bishop George!" exclaimed the abashed and astounded young preacher, springing out of bed. "I will call up the family. Why did you not tell us who you were? And have you had any supper?"

"Stop, stop, my friend," said the bishop. "I want no supper here. It is of the family I am thinking who profess to have set up God's altar here. The Lord had sent them a weary old man, but they were too much occupied with other things, and making merry."

A night of severer mortification the young minister had never experienced. The bishop kindly admonished him, and warned him of the great necessity of his adorning the doctrines of Christ, by following Him sincerely and humbly. Gently, but earnestly, he endeavored to win him back from his wanderings of heart, and directed him to seek and serve God instead of himself.

In the morning the bishop prayed with him long and fervently, before he left the chamber; and was glad to see his heart melted into contrition. Soon after the bishop descended, and was met by the heads of the family with a thousand sincere apologies. He mildly silenced them, and asked to have his horse brought out. "But surely, Bishop," urged the distressed matron, "you will not thus leave us? Wait a few minutes, breakfast is on the table."

"No, sister L., I cannot take breakfast here, but re member the words of Christ our Lord:'Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to Me.' "

Thus Bishop George departed, leaving the family and young minister in confusion and sorrow.

Six months from this time the Ohio Annual Conference met at Cincinnati, and the young minister was to present himself for ordination as a deacon; and Bishop George was to be the presiding bishop.

On the first day of the assembling of Conference our minister's heart sunk within him as he saw the venerable bishop take his seat. So great was his grief and agitation that he was soon obliged to leave the room. That evening, as the bishop was seated alone in his chamber, the young minister, Mr. — was announced, and the bishop requested that he be shown up.

The Bishop grasped the young man by the hand with a cordiality which he did not expect, for he had made careful inquiries, and found that since they had met before, a great change had been wrought in him. He was now as humble as he was before self-sufficient and worldly-minded. As a father would have received a disobedient, repentant child, so did this good man receive his erring but contrite brother. They mingled their tears together, while the young preacher wept as a child, even upon the bosom of his spiritual father. At that session he was ordained, and he is now one of the most pious and useful ministers in the Ohio Conference.

From an old Magazine.