When Isaac T. Hopper lived in Philadelphia, his attention was drawn to a colored waiter, called Cain, who was remarkable for profanity. Neither persuasion nor rebuke had any effect to change this bad habit. One day Hopper encountered him in the street quarreling and pouring volleys of oaths that made one shudder. Having faith in fines and constables, Hopper took him before a magistrate, who fined him for blasphemy. Twenty years after, Isaac met Cain, whom he had not seen for a very long time. His outward appearance was much changed for the worse; his garments were tattered, and his person emaciated. This touched the Friend's heart. He stepped up, spoke kindly, and shook hands with the forlorn being. “Dost thou remember me,” said the Quaker, “how I had thee fined for swearing?” “Yea, indeed I do; I remember what I paid as well as yesterday.” “Well, did it do thee any good?” “No, never a bit; it made me mad to have my money taken from me.” Hopper invited Cain to reckon up the interest on the fine, and paid him principal and interest. “I meant it for thy good, Cain, and I am sorry I did thee any harm.” Cain's countenance changed; the tears rolled down his cheeks; he took the money with many thanks; became a quiet man, and was not heard to swear again.—Sel.