Early piety, or, Memoirs of children eminently serious


Material Information

Early piety, or, Memoirs of children eminently serious interspersed with familiar dialogues, emblematical pictures, prayers, graces, and hymns
Portion of title:
Memoirs of children eminently serious
Physical Description:
72 p. : ill. ; 13 cm.
Burder, George, 1752-1832
Mozley, Henry
Henry Mozley
Place of Publication:
Derby (Brook-Street)
Publication Date:
New ed. -- enl. and improved, by the author.


Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Christian education of children -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1816   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1816   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1816
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage:
England -- Derbyshire -- Derby


General Note:
At foot of upper board: Price sixpence.
General Note:
Pagination includes frontispiece.
General Note:
Preface is dated July, 1808, and signed: G.B. George Burder.
General Note:
Title is repeated on lower board.
General Note:
Contains verse and prose.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 026519555
oclc - 270107871
PML 82839
System ID:

Full Text




The Baida n Llhram i
L'i,ir.'ryrl /

, -1 _. ,., --- ... .....



CO ME, join with me, companions dear,
To bless our Saviour's name:
And everlasting honours rear
To God and to the Lamb.

for Children (0 what wondrous grace 1)
The Lord was crucify'd ;
For Adam's vile apostate race
The Saviour bled and dy'd.

Here we may love without restraint,
Nor I'ear to prize too high;
Christ ik Ihe song ofev'ry saint
On eaFlh or in-the sky.

Lord, %ilh thy grace anoint mine eyes,
Throughout my darkness shine;
0 make me to salvation wise,
Jl y A LL, be ever mine!








Hearest thou what these say ?
Yea, hav e ye never read, Olt of the mouth of babe aind sucwig.
th/au hast perfectedpraise? Matt. xxi. 16.




My dear young Reader,
THIS little book is written with a design and a
desire, at once to profit and please you ; by
showing in the examples of children, young as
you are, the great happiness and advantage of
Real and Early Piety.
That you may read it to profit, you must take
notice of whatever was good in the children you
read of to imitate it; and of whatever was bad,
in order to avoid it.
You will find that the good children loved pray-
er, that is to teach you to love it too.
They hated sin very much, that is to teach you
to hate it.
Many of them died very young (not that they
died the sooner because they were good, but be-
ing good, they were the sooner fit to die) now,
you yourself may die young too, therefore pray
earnestly to the Lord, for the pardon of all your
sins, and beg for grace to make you fit to live,
and then you will be fit to die.
July, 1808.




M ASTER Billy and Miss Betsey Goodchild were
sent by their parents into the country, to a
genteel boarding-school; where they were put
under the care of Mrs. Lovegood, a lady of sin-
gular piety and wisdom : remarkably fitted for
the education of youth; for she dearly loved lit-
lie children, was very indulgent to them, and ne-
%er failed graciously to reward them, whenever
they did well; especially, when she observed them
diient in reading their bibles, in learning their
rateehism, in secret prayer, or when they could
give a good account of the sermons they had
heard on the Lord's day. Upon such occasions she
would not only commend and reward, but would
indulge them tilli ome useful piece of knowledge
that was new to them.
And so by the blessing of God upon her instruc-
tions, and the diligent and dutiful behaviour of
her scholars, it was truly surprising what a quick

progress they made in learning and politenes.
Mrs. Lopegood could by no means conceal the
improvement they made from their kind parents,
and therefore wrote several times to acquaint
them with all the particulars; and nothing could
be more welcoe to them than such newt, I as-
sure you.
You may imagine, by observing your own pa-
rents, (my dear reader) that it greatly delighted
their hearts, to hear of the welfare and good be-
has iour of their dear little ones; and made them
exceedingly abound in thankfulness to God, who
had directed them to so good a school, and who
had bestowed upon their children such lovely dis-
positions. They even thought it long till holiday
time came, n hen they expected again to see them.
Well, Christmas came at last; and, for my
part, I cannot tell you, whether parents or chil-
drti were most pleased with its coming.
The appointed day for Master and Miss to re-
turn home was now arrived: and they took leave
of Mrs. Lovegood, with tears of affection and
love, begging her prayers for their safe journey
to town; where they got safe and sound in the
evening; meeting at the inn in Aldersgate-street,
with their papa's servant, whom he had kindly
sent to conduct them home. And home they
came, but it would be in ,vain for me to attempt
to tell you what a pretty sight their meeting was.
When they entered the room, after making
tIleir obeisance, they ran, and both falling on

their knees, begged their parents' blessing. Mam-
ra could not speak for crying; she w1s so af-
fected with joy. But Mr. Goodchild, raising
them up in the most tender manner, May Jesus
bless you both 1"-and kissing them, added,
"God be praised for this mercy, in giving me to
"'see my dear children again !"
After they had drank tea, Miss Betsey gave her
mnamma an account of their rules and orders at
school; how happy they lived there, how kind
Mrs. Lovegood was to them ; and how she taught
them morning and evening prayers, which they
repeated. And as you kmy little reader) might
like to know them, and it may be to use them
yourself, I will set them down. The morning
prayer was as follows:
"0 Almighty and most merciful God, who
"hast made me, and preserved me to this hour;
" look graciously upon me, and have mercy up-
"on me. Thou hast promised, 0 Lord, that
"those who seek thee early shall find thee ; and
"I am now come to seek thy face and favour.
"Dear Jesus, when on earth, thou didst suffer
" little children to come unto thee: and I am
"come, 0 take me into thy arms of love, and
"make my young heart soft and tender ; afraid
"of sin, and its terrible consequences! 0 make
"me highly to prize thy love in dying for sinners I
"and, Lord, be pleased to give me a share in that
"lore. Make me humble, teachable, and holy.

"Accept my praise for another night's preserva-
Stion, and be pleased to continue the same care,
Sand protection all this day. Instruct me, 0,
" Lord, in all useful and necessary knowledge, es-
, specially that which concerns my eternal peace.,
" Whatever I do to-day, may 1 do it to thy glory..
" While I live, may 1 live to God ; and when [
" die, may 1 sleep in Jesus I and after death admit
" me to heaven, to ascribe glory to Father, Son,
" and Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen."
" OUR Father," &c. &c.


"0 Lord, my God, most high most holy !
Sand most gracious I Thou searchest all hearts,
and well knowest all that 1 have this day done,
said, or thought amiss forgive all most freely
for the sake of Jesus Christ. Clothe my naked
soul with the spotless righteousness of Jesus thy
"dear Son : wash my unclean soul in his cleans-
ing blood ; sanctify my unsanctified tempers
"and dispositions, by thy Holy Spirit. Watch
over my body and soul this night while I sleep.
Graciously defend me from every danger. Pre-
serve also, 0 Lord, all that dwell under this
"roof: and bless my dear parents, and all my
relations; prosper and increase the ministers
of thy gospel: and may every one of my friends
and acquaintance acquaint themselves with Ja.
smus, and be at peace with him. Glory be to

' thee, 0 Lord, for my creation, preservation,
" and all the comforts of this life, but much more
" for the gift of gifts-a precious Jesus. May
"cmy soul be found in him, both now and for
"evermore. Grant all my petitions, and accept
"my praises in the name and for the sake of Je-
"sus Christ, who, with the Father and Holy
" Ghost, is one God over all, blessed for ever.
1 A men and Amen."
These prayers you see, are both very short and
suitable; but at times they used other petitions,
not set down here, according to their various
wants; as when they were ill or had got well
again ; when they were going a journey, or the
Master Goodchild also informed his parents,
that at school before family prayer, a chapter
used to he read; and when it was done, each
scholar was expected to repeat some verse or sen-
tence, that they remembered, and this kept up
their attention. And there they used to sing very
pretty hymns, which, if you should like to learn,
you may find them at the end of this book,
Well, before supper, when Mr. Goodtild's fa-
mily were called up to prayer, you cannot think
how glad all the servants were to see Master and
Miss again ; from which I conclude, that they be-
haved well before they left home. Their sweet
voices made an agreeable addition to the song of
praise, that every evening ascended from that
happy (because pious) family. In short, it was

as the house of God, and the very gate of fieaven.
For my part, I wish that those people who have
no prayer in their families had been there; mne-
thinks it would have made them much desire to
repeat such pleasant scenes under their oi I roofs.
Jer. x. 25.

M ASTER and Miss Goodchild, behaving them-
selves so well, deserved indulgence; and they
had what they deserved :-for they had not been
at home long, when a great man, John Benevo-
lent, Esq. hearing of them, invited them to his
country house, at a very pleasant village near
London ; and he sent his own coach for them too.
They were most cordially received, and kindly
entertained indeed. Among the many curious
things they saw, nothing pleased them better than
a gallery of fine pictures, each of which had a
spiritual meaning; and the squire was so obliging
as to point out to them the instructive lesson
they were designed to teach.
The first picture, which struck their attention
was a beautiful historical piece, very highly finish
ed by a capital hand.
No. I. Ttie little folks (as you will natural]
suppose) were anxious to know the meaning of i
-which gave rise to the following dialogue.

Master C. Pray, Sir, what does this picture re-
present ?
Squire. My dears, you perceive a poor man al-
most drowned.
.Miss. G. Yes, Sir, and how came he there?
Squire. He was going over that great piece of
water, in a little pasteboard boat. Being deluded
by a man in black (who ought to have known
better) he foolishly thought that his boat would
keep out the water, and convey him to the op-
posite shore. But as soon as the wind blew, and
I he waves arose, his boat overset, and the man fell
into the water.
Miss G. Poor man but pray, Sir, who is that
gentleman on the bank ?
Squire. My dear, that is a tender hearted good
Prince: though he looks so plain, he lives in yon-
der fine palace on the high hill; and seeing (for
he can see a great way) this poor creature fall in,
he ran immediately to his relief-flung him a rope,
and bade the poor man lay fast hold, and he would
draw him out.
Master G. Dear Sir, how kind! how very kind
Ihat was!
Squire. It was indeed.-The man can never be
sufficiently thankful to him.
Miss G. And how excessively tight he seems to
hold the rope!
Squire. My dear, he would not let it go for all
the world ; his life is at stake-and if it had
not-been for the gentleman, he must certainly

have perished.-And now, children, (added Mr.
BenevolenI) I'll tell you what spiritual instruction
it is intended to convey. The man in his paper
boat, is to show you how every man by nature
(till taught of God) is ready to think that he may
get to heaven, by what he can do himself. But
it is absolutely impossible, for this reason : The
holy law of God insists upon perfect obedience, and
nothing short of that will do.-But noman is now
able to obey perfectly.
Therefore, unless the perfect righteousness of
another is imputed to him, he must fall under the
curse of the broken law-his own best righteous-
ness will fail him, as this man's paper boat has
done-and if immediate assistance be not afford-
ed, he must perish for ever and ever. But that dear
Prince is lo represent Jesus Christ, the King of
kings, and Lord of lords, who came from glory on
purpose to seek and save the lost. The rope shows
you how we are saved by Faith There is no
merit in the man, nor in the rope, nor in his hold-
ing the rope. His deliverance from death is en-
tirely owing to the Gentleman ; and thus the
whole glory of salvation is due alone to Christ.
Master G. I dare say the poor man will not
brag of saving himself.-1 am sure he ought to
be very thankful.
Suire. You say right, and so he was. The
GeAleman took him afterwards, and gave him

Faith is taking God at his word.

fresh clothes, his own handsome livery, white
turned up with red-and he dwells now in his pa.
lace, as happy as a prince.
Miss G. I believe, Sir, I know the meaning of
that-Thus Jesus brings to heaven, all whom he
converts and forgives ; so that he can say-Vot
one of them is lost.
Master G. How dearly the man must love him,
how desirous must he be to please him I dare
say the Prince has no need to bid him twice to do
any thing, or to threaten to turn him out of doors
if he is not good.-I1 think if I was in his place, it
would be my meat and drink to do his will, and I
should want no other wages than his approbation.
Squire. Well said indeed.-O my dear children,
remember then, thus cheerfully to love and obey
a precious Saviour, who has redeemed us from the
curse of the Law, by becoming a curse for us.
No. 2. In the next picture you see two boys;
he on the left-hand is named Passion, the other's
name is Patience. You may perceive, Passion is
much disquieted ; but Patience sits, with a bible
in his hand, as quiet as a lamb ; and he is so happy
because he is content to wait till next year for
several pretty things his guardian has promised
him. But Passion is thus disturbed, because he
is determined to have all now. He is indeed a
very wicked child-he is descended from Dives,
whom you read of in the Bible; and Paliere iq
descended from Lazarus, a very good, though a
very poor man. They take after their ancestors

very Such ; for, as Mr. Bunyan informs us in
his pilgrim's Progress, a man came and brought
to Passion a great bag of money, which he seiz-
Sed with prodigious eagerness; and, at the same
time laughing at Patience, calledohbm a sorry
beggar: but, however, it was not long before he
spent all he had, in riotous living; lost his friends
e and hiscash together, and has been seen himself
not long ago begging about the streets. Where-
as Patience, in time, by diligence and industry,
t got a very comfortable estate, upon which he
Lives, and does a great deal of good with it.
Master G. And pray, Sir, what is this to teach
us ?
r Squire. My dear, it is this-Never to covet pre-
sent things, things which regard only this world,
but both quietly to wait, and patiently hope for
your portion of better things in a better world.
All this world calls good or great must either
leave us, or be left by us ; and, it is better to
have our portion in heaven than on earth, for
this reason also, because, if it be on earth, we
are going from it; but if it be in heaven, we are
going to it.
No. 3. Squire. What do you observe, Mis
Goodchild, in this next picture ?
Miss G. Sir, I observe a man with a rake in
his hand, raking together all the muck and straw ;
and he seems to be very busy indeed.
Squire. But do you not observe something

S Miss G. Yes, Sir, there is an angel orv his
head, that seems to want him to look up at a
S fine crown in his hand. How sweetly the angel
smiles I but the man takes no notice. Will you
please, Sir, tojell us Ilie meaning?
Squire. My dear,-The man who seems so bu-
sy in raking together nothing but dirt, is an em-
blem of the men of this world, who rise early and
sit up late, eating the bread of carefulness, and all
to get money. The angel represents the faithful
ministers of Jesus Christ, who are using all the
means they can, to engage poor careless sinners
to think of eternal things ; and showing them
what a crown they are despising for mere trash.
-But after all, as you observed, the man takes
no notice of the angel, nor of the glorious crown,
though it is worth a thousand times more than
he will ever scrape together as long as he lives.
And thus, dear children, too, too many labour
and study only for the meat which perishetb,
while they neglect the unspeakable important
concerns of Salvation; and thus ministers labour
in vain: and spend their strength for nought.
Few believe their report, and to few is the arm of
the Lord revealed.
The very kind gentleman, after having shown
them several other pictures of equal merit, dis-
missed them, with some pretty presents, especi-
ally a neat pocket bible to each, which (to them)
was the most precious gift they could possibly re-


When they returned home, they gave so dis-
tinct and pleasing an account of all they had seen,
as highly delighted their parents: especially as
they took care to remember the instructive expla-
nation of each piece, and were not, like lost
children, pleased with them merely as pictures.
Master Goodchild particularly observed to his
papa, with what earnestness the man in the water
kept hold of the rope: and said, He hoped the
Lord would help him to hold Jesus fast by faith,
as his Saviour, with the same degree of steadfast-
Mr. Goodchild was so pleased with their re-
marks, that he promised they should see every
thing that might be likely to advance their best
interest: and accordingl, Ihe next day, they wivent
to the Museum. An account of which you have
in the following chapter.



MUST remark in the first place, that Billy and
Betsey whenever they were to go abroad to see
any fine sight, used always to pray for a blessing
upon it. And they never went to see any thing,
or engaged in any diversion, upon which they
dared not to ask God's blessing.- %nd for that
reason never went to plays, nor pla3)td at cards;
they knew that all such diversions were unlawful.
They had been told what rare curiosities of na-

ture and art were to be seen at lihe Museum, and
therefore they prayed, that from seeing the won-
derful things which God had made, and given
wisdom to man to make, they might be led to
adore the great Creator.
The first room they were led into, contained a
vast variety of serpents, snakes, adders, and such
like frightful creatures, many of which, though
beautiful to look upon, were terrible when alive ;
having had sharp stings, and mortal poison under
their tongues.
Miss Goodchild shuddered almost to look upon
them ; but Master Billy whispered his papa, and
said, these destructive creatures put me in mind of
that old and subtle serpent, who first persuaded
E e It -in against God, by breaking his commands,
and so brought death into the world, and all our
Yes, my dear, (said a venerable minister,
" aho showed the curiosities) and so it did ; but I
"hope youm know that Christ the friend of sin-
ners came, according to his promise, to bruise
"the serpent's head: so that death to those who
" believe in him, is disarmed of his sting, and is
no more hurtful than these vipers, now they
"are dead and bottled up in spirits."
They were then led into a dark room, in which
was a fine transparent picture of a burning moun-
tain in Italy, called Vesuvius; from the top of
which issued huge quanlihes of stones, and rivers
of liquid fire poured down its side. The sight

of such an awful scene, lhouth bul painted, fill-
eA every mind with solemnity, and every face
with fear.-And who can help thinking, said the
minister who accompanied them, of that dreadful
day, which our eyes must behold; no painted
fire, nor imaginary thunders then, but all real;
when the elements must melt with fervent heat,
the sun be turned into darkness, and the moon
into blood, when the Son of man shall comein the
clouds of heaven, in great glory, and all his holy
angelswith him; to take vengeance on his enemies,
and to sentence all the sons of Adam to everlast-
ing happiness or misery Oh! said the little girl,
Oh that this Judge may be our friend; then we
shall be safe. Here they were also shown all
manner of birds, and their nests-all sorts of but-
terflies, and other insects-curious helmets and
swords-all sorts of shells and leaves, and more
fine things than I could tell you of in an hour.
But nothing pleased Master Goodchild more than
an old manuscript of the Bible in vellum, which
the minister said was worth all the books there;
and so it was: for what would all the books in
the world be without the bible; other books may
make a man wise in worldly wisdom: but it is
only the Bible that can make a man wise to sal-
vation: this only /teaches him how to live, and
how to die ; this tells him, how he may be happy
here and for ever happy. Oh prize it, my dear
reader, never let a day pass without reading it;

and be sure, when you read it, you pray to God
to help you to understand it.
When they came home they made many pretty
remarks upon almost every thing they had seen:
and what was still better, their minds were so
much impressed as to lead them to pray for more
admiring and adoring thoughts of the great God,
who made all things with infinite wisdom: and
that they might ever stand in awe of him, and not
dare any more to sin against him. Thus you see
how they improved by whatever they saw; and
in the next chapter we shall show you, what sort
of company they kept: how they spent their time
together; and what use they had made of the
good books they read, by being able to relate with
so much propriety, remarkable histories of good
and pious children, whom you will do well to imi-

WVTHEN the young gentlemen and ladies, who
were acquainted with. Master Goodchild and
his sister, heard that they were returned from
boarding-school, they were very desirous to come
and see them, so a day was fixed on for that pur-
pose; and when should it be, but the Twelflh-day,
aad it happened that they were just twelve in
compin) .-Well; after they had dined, it was

proposed by Mr. Goodchild that instead of the
idle diversion of choosing king and queen, (which
he knew they were above) they should each tell
some pretty history which they had read, that
might tend to their mutual advantage. This
S being directly agreed upon, Mr. and Mrs. Good-
child withdrew, leaving only the young people
S together, that they might speak with the greater
S freedom.
S Miss Mild, being the eldest in company, was
t desired to begin, which she was just about to do,
w vi hen Master Prayerful begged leave to ask, whe-
ther it was not proper first to pray fora blessing
h on their conversation-Certainly, said Master
id Goodchild, for 1 have often read that text, which
says, In every thing, by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving, let your requests be made
known unto God. And I heartily acquiesce in
Ihe proposal, said Miss Candour, for it is the cus-
torn of some very honourable persons, where
mamma visits, after dinner to sing an hymn, and
unite in prayer, which they say prevents the con-
versation from turning upon the failings of ab-
0 sent friends.
d Master Serious Ihealsra3ed for a few minutes;
n after which, the little company being again seat-
e d, Miss Mild introduced her story thus:
I apprehend, my dear young friends, that
nothing can be more profitable to us, nor in-
a deed more encouraging, than to hear of those,
ikc us in age and capacity, whose early piety,

"and who.e happy deaths have witnessed, how
" much little children are the care of a compas-
"sionate Saviour, who permitted, when on earlh,
" such to be brought to him, and declared, that
" of such is the kingdom of heaven."
1 have read of a poor boy, who came all in
-dirt and rags to a gentleman's door at Ne, ming-
ton, crying for bread. Notwithstanding his fillhyi
condition, the Lord disposed that generous n*in to
take him in, and clothe him from head to foot,
and bring him up as his own child.
This boy was as-wicked as he was poor; he
used to take the Lord's name in vain, and curse
and swear in a shocking manner: indeed he was
guilty of all sorts of wickedness. But the gen-
tleman who had his eternal, as much or more
than his temporal good at heart, laboured to con-
vince him of his natural depravity-of his sinful
practices-of the worth of his soul, and the bit-
ter consequences of sinning against God-of the
uncertainty of life-the certainty of death, and a
future judgment-he used often to pray with,
and apart to pray for, him.
Nor were his prayers long unanswered : in a
few weeks' time, a great change took place in
the boy's outward heliaiiour : which was once
very uncivil, but now affable and courteous to
all. And the change affected not his outward
conduct only ; but he began privately to weep,
and mourn for his past offences; he would gladly
attend on prayer; would listen with great attel

t lion to all his master said, about eternal things.
And thus he continued to do, when the Lord vi-
sited him with sickness: he was taken ill: his
I body was full of pain: but the distress of his soul
was greater still.-His sins now stared him in the
n face; he would lay and cry out, 0 what shall I
do !-Wfhat shall I do !-I fear there is no mercy
y forve
0 fie was often told, there was mercy in Christ
fa. the chief of sinners; yet be was still afraid
God would not have mercy on him, he was so
e vile a sinner. But at length he was helped to
e lay hold on this promise-Come unto me, all ye
S that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest. And then he would bless and adore the
e free and rich grace of God, that such a wretch as
he should obtain pity and pardon.
S Thus he abounded still more and more in pray-
er and praise, longing to be dissolved, that he
e night be with Christ.
a Yet he had at times fears returning, lest after
allhe should be deceived. But the day before
he died, a gentleman came to see him, and blam-
i ed him much for giving way to doubts and fears,
n saying, it was as though all that had been tull
e him were lies, to deceive him.-You say, you fear
S Christ will not accept you; perhaps you are not
I willing to accept Christ. "Indeed I am," replied
the boy. Why then, child," said he, if thou
"art really willing to have Christ, Christ is a
thousand times more willing to have thee, and

s" ash thee inhis blood." Well! (said the hoy,
lea.iping up in his bed) Well! yea, all is well,
(hrist is willing, and I am willing too; and now
Christ is mine, and I am his for ever. He conti..
nued from that moment, to his last, triumphing in
full assurance of God's lover; earnest% desiring
his dismission, which next morning he obtained-
aind the last words he uttered were, Into thy hfdhi,
0 L.ord, I commit my spirit; and so he slept in
Jvsus. He was but just turned of nine ye;iarif
And oh, what a sweet smile of applause sal on
eisry countenance, when the story was finished !
each of the dear young people saying, 0 thal I
may die the death of the righteous, and Ihdl my
latter end may be like his!


I|NASTEH Timothy then obliged the company
Sixth the following history:
You have, doubtless, heard of the Orphan-
house, in Georgia, founded by the late Rev. Mr.
Whitfield. His heart, you know, always longed
for the salvation of precious souls, especially of
young people; and it was not long after the'
school there was settled, that the Lord % as pleased:
S to answer the wishes of his heart. For in Ihe
*, s

vear 1741, Mr. Barber, the superintendent ot"
ihelir spiritual affairs, wrote a letter to Mr. Whit-
ti-ld, which I shall take the libertyto read :

Bethesda, March 21, 1741.

My very dear Brother,
N NEVER-no never, did my eyes see such a
- sigbt, nor my ears hear such a sound, as in the
Sday past; and oh, how will your soul rejoice,
- lhen you hear what it was! it was nothing less
- i wonderful than a great number of little children
Sin your Orphan-house, crying out after the
, Lord. After dinner, brother Periam had left
h Iiem in the school, picking cotton: and, while
" they were working oneof them said to another,
t i, we do not believe in the Lord Jesus Ckrist we
shall all go to hell, and added, that the children
o qf God prayed to God. Immediately the boy,
' lo whom he spake, fell down upon his knees,
Sand began to pray; and then another, till they
Were all on their knees together, praying..-Pro-
' sidence so ordered it, that some of the family
heard them, and it was not long before the
" whole family were gathered around them. 0
" how did the awful and pleasing sight strike
- us, and melt us into a flood of tears !-The
"dear little lambs, continued crying out, with
SIhe trembling jailer, Ifhat must wve do to be
',,ured? They prayed, Lord God almighty,

"have compassion upon us; prick us to lhe
"heart, and pluck us as fire-brands out of the
"' burning; and, 0 Lord Jesus Christ, wash u
"in thy blood-0 Lord, take away our har
"stony hearts, and give us hearts of fle'h.-Am
"how did the little souls plead with God!
"Lord, hast thou not said, that those that see
"1 thee early shall find thee? and that thou wi
"not quench the smoking flax, nor break th
"bruised reed? And I heard one of Ihem say
"Lord, thou hast said, that we shall be all laugh
"of thee.-Thus they continued crying after Ih
"Lord, an hour or two, and I am convinced, no
C only by what I saw, but felt, that the Lord wa
"present with us," &c. &c.
Miss Lydia, his sister, being desired to relate
something, began thus: Since the coimpanI aF
pear so much and so justly affected with what in
brother has said, I shall attempt to tell ) ou as we
as 1 can, the substance of another letter from th
same person about half a year after.
At family prayer one evening, he read lthe 95
chapter of Matthew ; spoke a little from it, aboi4
the day of judgment, and had the pleaiire Iu oil
serve many of the children very attentive a
much affected.
After he had, as usual, lighted them to bed
and iclired to his own chamber, a child came a
told him, that one of the boys wanted lo spe.
with him ;--he went directly. Before he got
the chamber, he heard a noise, and wtn hlie can
in, fouted many pray ing, that the Lord Jesus h al


hi hare mercy on them. One of them told him He
h had a hard heart. He prayed with them; and,
u after he had left them, some continued praying
n in deep distress, great part of the night.
S When he visited them in the morning, asking
one what he wanted ; he answered with tears in
-el his eyes, he wanted Jesus Christ.
Vii After this, it was observable, that they sought
th all opportunities to be by themselves, and pray.
ay What then can we think of children that never
g pray to God, when all converted people begin im-
ih mediately to pray ? May this, my young friends,
0 quicken us all to more diligence in this delightful
s duty.
Miss Melody, not being able, then, to recollect
lal any history, obliged her friends with the hymn in
a the frontispiece of this book.


a MJASTER Samuel, whose Wrn it was next, said
he had frequently met with this observation,
e that contraries illustrate ; and Iherefore, asacon-
al trast to those pleasing histories already recited, he
hoped it might be profitable to relate an account
of a very wicked boy, in order both to warn us
against his faults, and excite our gralftude to God,

' and thankfulness to our friends, for his grace and
their instruction.
The boy, whose story I am about to lell, was
named Jack Perverse, and his nature was answcr-
able to his name.
Though his parents sent him to a very good
school, yet he was such a dunce, that he could
not read a single verse in the Testament without
blundering; and when he was reproved, used to
answer again with impertinence; and was so sulky
and obstinate, that correction only madile himu
worse. When any mischief was going forward at
school, he was sure to be found at the head of it :
by which means his book was neglected, his task
left undone, and then, to avoid punishment, he
would play truant: the consequence of vhich was,
that he was not only well flogged, but a heavy
log was also fastened to his leg, and a greatly fool's
cap put upon his head; so that he became [lie
sport and derision of all that beheld him.
His master, in order to reclaim him, would omenie.
times call him up and speak thus to him :-," C h'dd
"you should remember that your good fail her
"put you under my care, that you might niii
"prove in useful knowledge, and so be lit, whet
"you leave school,to enter the world w ith credit
but if you continue Nour bad ways and neglec
your learning, your dear father will be grievel
"and disappointed, I shall be discredited, and )o,
will be ruined."
i i Now, onuwould have thought thai such kin
advice as this would have had somegc'-hl witl

him: but alas! it had none: he still continued
idle and obstinate, despising both his master and
his couvel.

IL k


He was not only idle, but cruel.-He used to
Catch flies on purpose to torment them ; and was
I guilty of that horrid practice of making cockcha-
fers spin, by putting a crooked pin through their
tails and hanging them by a bit of thread, which
S puts them in terrible agonies.-When this was
r mentioned, several of the company immediately
burst into tears, they were so shocked at any
S thing that was cruel. And Master Tender could
not help saying, d10 am astonished at the hard-
ness of that heart, which can takedelight in
beholding the agonies of poor dumb creatures:
and it brings to my mind what I once read of
the wise Athenians, who condemned a boy for
4' putting out the eyes of birds with. if hot needle,
judging that such seeds of cruelty would neces-


"sarily grow up into more dreadful acls of vio-1
"lence, and endanger the lives of men and the:
"happiness of mankind: the boy was therefore
put to death.-But 1 beg pardon for this inter.
eruption "
Master Samuel then resumed his narration.-!
have mentioned already his bad behaviour at1
school, and his wickedness at his diversions ; I
shall only trouble you farther with an account of
his perverse conduct at home, and his irreverent
disposition at church : which I think together
make up a boy as bad as boy can be!
In the morning he would lie a-bed very late,
even after he was called ; hurry over ih*l pra3ers
like a parrot, and sometimes if he Ihouight lihe
should not be found out, would hioll). omit
them; and then if asked about them, he would
tell a lie to hide his sin, and so make it double,
you know.
When his papa was at prayer in the family, he
would be looking about him, instead of making
every petition his own ; and at evening pra~ei
was often found asleep. If he was sent on an er.
rand, he would loiter and play by the way, some.
times quite forgetting his miLesage, and someliime
deliverinja wrong one.
Ili% behaiiour to the servants was extrenelj
haughty and insolent, always speaking ill of tIhen
behind their backs, and laying his own faults te
their charge, and yet to their faces would fawi
S and flatter, if he could get any thing by it.
1: But the worst of all was his irreverence a

Church ; he did not go there, as good boys do, to
hle meet with God, and learn more of Jesus Christ
re and their duty, but only because he was obliged
r to go. He never prayed before he went, for a
blessing upon the minister, and that he might get
ood: and when there, he would stare about him,
at observe every body that came in, take notice how
Ihis and tfat person was dressed, but did not pray
in prayer, nor mind the sermon, but frequently
n laughed at it and the minister too. He little
Ie t thought of those wicked children we read of in the
od Book of Kings, who laughed at a great minis-
leir in those days, the prophet Elisha, calling him a
Inldhead, and making game of him whom they
h uight highly to have honoured; and the Lord
,*ent two great frightful bears out of the wood,
ul aud killed no less than two-and-forty of them.
ie \e may see, my friends, that God Almighty takes
r,,tice of, is displeased with, and punishes naughty
h buys and girls, as well as naughty men and wo-
in ,ien: and that he does so still is evident, for
Jack Perverse, one Sunday afternoon, after he
Shad been making game of the minister and his
S message, went with a boy of his acquaintance, as
e bad as himself, to bathe in the river, and there, he
getting out of his depth, and the other being
el seized with the cramp, were both drowned ; and
so taken away suddenly, with all their sins unre-
ipen led of and unforgiven, to stand before God in
S judgment: thus we see that the way of sin is
down-hill; and how children are hurried on from
crime to another, till all ends in the ruin of

soul and body. May God keep us all, said the
littlecpious company, from all the ways of sin aind
the least appearance of evil! Then they sung Iie.n
following hymn of Dr. Watts:

OUR tongues were made to bless the Lord.
And not speak ill of men ;
When others give a railing word,
We must not rail again.

The lips that dare be so profane,
To mock, and jeer, and scoff',
At holy things or holy men,
The Lord shall cut them off.

When children in their wanton play,
Serv'd old Elisha so,
And bid the prophet go his way,
Go up, thou bald-head, go,"

God quickly stopt their wicked breath,
And sent two raging bears,
That tore them limb from limb to death,
With blood, and groans, and tears.

Great God! how terrible art thou
To sinners e'er so young!
Grant me thy grace, and teach me how
To tame and rule my tongue.
Let the sweet work of prayer and praise
Employ my youngest breath ;
Thus I'm prepared for longer dajs,
Or fit for early death. 4




M|ISS Goodchild then begged leave to relate
some few passages from the life of Miss Car-
teret Rede, who was the daughter of a gentleman
in Wiltshire.
She gave remarkable proofs of her early piety;
for being asked, when she was no more than four
years of age, who was her greatest enemy she
replied, Sin was her greatest enemy. Soon after,
when reading in the second chapter of St. Lukers
gospel, about Joseph and Mary, thai there Uwas no
room for them in the inn, and that the BADE was
laid in a manger; she burst into a lobid of tears,
saying, H hat was tkere no room in the inn for the
Lord of glory, but must aH lie in a manger among
the beasts ?

One morning when she was not well, she began
her prayer thus, 0 Lord, look down upon mie, and
give me the knowledge of thyself: take sin out of
my heart, that I may be thy child; mith several
such like expressions.
When she had done, she said, I have a pretty
lesson in my hook, which is about God's sending
the Lord Jesus to die for poor sinner. At ano-
ther time, when sitting by the fire, she burst into
tears; and being asked what was the mailer, ahe
said, Ido offend the Lord in all I do. .\ another
time, I must be more afraid of sinninC asiainst
God than of being whipped, for it is God lithat ifes
us food and raiment and every thing.
One evening she went to her father, and said,
Pray for me, that God would pardon all m. 51ins,
nnsilhat he would take away this wicked hr irt, and
that I may be with God when I die. Jiit be lure
she was taken ill, she was reading the 5511h of
Isaiah, she stopt and said, ,Nothing bli the blood,
of Christ can cleanse me from sin. HIer inther
asked her, Whether she did not think that bmini
good, and doing good works would sate her ? She
replied, Our righteousness is a sinful rigiteounes.,
therefore it-cannot save us.
A little kinswoman and she being at |ili,. they
happened to fall out; but presently Carlarcl, re-
collecting herself, said to her Coutin. Don't tee
know hat Chri.t died for us, mimy should u'e fall
out ?
Soon after she was taken ill, and nai one even-
ing earnest with tears, that Christ might be re-

sealed to her: shesaid, I mst have Christ, I can-
not tell what to do without him. One said, Can-
not your prayers save you 1 Oh! no, said she,
none but Christ can do it. "
At another time, not long before her death, she
said, This seripUre is come to my mind, He will
have mercy on whoA he wilt hake mercy, and he
willhave mercy on me. Soon after, being asked,
Does God lift up the light of his countenance up-
on you she said, I hope he d#e An& you are
willing to go to Christ ? I hope I am. The agu.
nies of death coming ow, the last word. she spoke
to her father, was, Prayfor me.
While he prayed with her she lay very still, andi
about eleven o'clock on the 7th of December, 1701,
she fell asleep in Jesus.
When Miss Goodchild had finished the history
of Cartaret, which she told with great modesty,
they agreed to sing the following hymn :

HAPPY the child whose yorngest years
Receive instruction weltr
Who hales the sinnmer's path, and fern
The road that lead to helL.

When we devote oar youth to Ge,
'Ti. pleasing in his eyesj
A flower, when offer'd in the bud,
Is now vain frice.

'Tis easier work if we begin
To fear the Lord betimem

While sinners that grow old in sin,
Are hardened in their crimes.

'Twill Ave us from a thousand snare;,
To mind religion young;
Grace will preserve our following ears,
And make our virtue strong.

To thee, Almighty God, to thee
Our childhood we resign;
'Twill plase us to look back and see
ThatTur whole lives were thine.



yMISS Candour then obliged the company with
several particulars of a child, who died in the
Lord, no longer ago than in the year 1775.
Being ill, prayer was put up for him in the pub-
liec congregation; after which he said to some
about him, The Lord has answered prayer ; I
know now that the Lord loves me and will save m ;
God is my salvation; I will trust and not be
afraid. Before this he had strong fears of death.
One day he said, 0 how I love those two sweet
chapters, the 12th of Isaiah and the 20th of John-
God is my salvation. How I love my Father fur
Master Rogers of Brighlhelmstone.

teaching me to read the Bible! If I should live to
be a man, I would give every body in my house a
The Lord let him into a sight of the iniquities
of his heart: for he told one, Thai the last time
he had his new clothes on he was so proud, that if
his life were spared, he should be afraid ever to
put them on again.-On Easter Sunday he told his
father, I find we must have a better righteousness
than our own; for I have often, when hearing
preaching at the chapel, thought how good I would
ie, Ibat I nr'evr would be undutyful, or play with
noaughly bogs any more; but as soon as the next
day came, I was as bad as ever: so I am sure our
own righteous will not do.
He saw his mother weeping, and said to her,
Do not grieve; I can tell you of one who mad a
greater trial than you have: Abraham, you
know, was to offer up his son. Yes, my dear,
said his mother, but 1 have not Abraham's failh.
Ah, mother, replied he, God can give it you.
When he had been peevish and fretful, he
mourned over his evil tempers, and looking ear-
nestly at his mother, said, Mother, passion is my
besetting sin; but the Lord will pardon me, be-
cause he loves me.
He told the Rev. Mr. Peckweil, who visited
him, It was ungrateful in people to run away
from Christ. Mr. Peckwell, asked him how it was
that he did not run from bim-Hi% answer was,
Because the Lord-loves me. But if you get well
again, do not you think 3 ou shall run away from

him ? No, he replied, The Lord loves we too well
to letme. What would you say to yourplaymales.
if you could see them now ? I would call them to
How kind it was in Christ to die for me 0
I want to die, because the Lord loves me!
During his illness, he would frequently say, Lord,
look on a poor afflicted child. Mother, see your
dying child; I want to die and go to my sisters.
In the morning of April 88, he said, 1 shall be
gone before night. One asked, Where ? To hea-
ven, said be.-A little before his departure, he
cried out, Come down, my God, and take me up to
heaven ; and take that devil down to hell.
Soon after this he was released, and expired re-
peating these words, My God-My God-My
God I

THERE is beyond the sky
A heav'n of joy and love;.
And holy children when they die,
Go to that world above.

There is a dreadful hell,
And everlasting pains;
There sinners must with devils dwell
In darkness, fire, and chains.

Can such a wretch as I
Escape this cursed end ?
And nmy I hope, whene'er I die,
I shall to heaven ascend ?

Then will I read and pray,
While I have life and breath,
Lest I should be cut offto-day,
And sent t' eternal death.



WT E have seen, said Master Considerate (who
sat next) in a pleasing variety of inslances
thile power of divine grace in changing the hearts
of many little children like ourselves, and as we
have spoke so much of grace, it may not be
amiss a little to consider the Providence of God,
as very prettily held out in the story of a hermit,
which I have read in a book in my papa's study.

A certain hermit, who had passed the greatest
part of his life in the midst of a lonely desert, far

remote from mankind, whose food waq the fruilti
of the earth, and his drink the crystal founlain-
might have continued his repose and quiet, had
not this temptation arisen in his mind, Whi-lher
Providence guided the actions of men or nol ?
For, said he, if God really directs all things,
how happens it that good men often suffer many
injuries from the wicked, and wicked men so often
To clear up this matter, he determined, though
very old, to leave his retirement and visit Ihe
world. Accordingly he arose at break of dlay,
and after travelling a long time, he perceived a
beautiful youth casting across the plain. ,ootd
j. day to you, honoured father, said the youth;
and Good day to you, replied the sage. Very
agreeable conversation ensued, and they (ravelled
together until night approached.
Observing a stately palace just by, in w which
i dwelt a proud but hospitable knight, they slept
up to the door, and giving a gentle knock, were
S immediately admitted. An elegant supper was
Served up, and numerous servants wailed upon
S them; after which, being fatigued, they retired
to bed, and did not awake until morning.
They were then called up to a sumptuous break-
Sfast, and rich wines were handed round in a laige
golden cup. When they had eat and drank as
Much as they pleased, they returned many thanks
to the courteous knight, and were dismissed. No
Sone had reason to be sorry but the kind landlord,


for the young man was so ungrateful as to steal
the guoldean.cup.
They had not gone far before the youth showed,
the cup to the aged hermit. He stood astonished
at his ingratitude, almost wishing to get rid of such
a companion, but did not dare to mention his
wish ; however, lifting up his eyes, to Heaven, he
thought how hard it was, that generous actions
should be so strangely rewarded. .
The weather now became cloudy; the wind
rustled; the cattle scudded home for shelter, and
such a orm of rain fell, as made them glad to see
an old gentleman's gothic seal, upon a rising
ground, near at hand. They hastened to the
door, where they long knocked without admit-
tance. At last the miserly master of the house,
with slow and cautious steps came to the door,
which he opened with suspicious care. hey
were but half welcomed :-oly one little fagot
lighted the naked walls; a- poor pittance of
coarse bread, and some stale small beer were
brought for their refreshment.:-even this was
grudged, and as soon as ever it began to clear
up, tI hey were bid to be gone.
The hermit was surprised to think that a man
of such vast possessions should lead such a miser-
able life: and he almost blamed Fro-itlence, for
permitting so much wealth to lay useless in his
hands; but how was he ashowshed whea the
young man informed him that he had rewarded
the miser with the golden cup, which was stele
from their former generous benefactor I


Night again came on, and once more they
sought a place of rest. Looking round, Ihey
perceived a mansion not far off; it wai neither
mean nor grand, but seemed to speak Ihe mind,
of its owner, a man content and benevolenLt
Hither they repaired, and were kindly received i
they were not only well entertained as to refresh-
ment but the host talked like a scrMioniia pious
In the morning just before Ihcy departed, the
youth went to a cradle, in which was a pretty in-
fant, (the pride and joy of its aged fair) andi
broke its neck-But Oh how looked the her-
mit! strange return he cried for so much hospi-
tality I
Confused and struck with horror, Ihe old man
was determined at any rate to gel rid of so %ile
a companion. He fled-but Ihe 3oulh pursued
and soon overtook him. And as thie country} lay
wide and the roads were not easy to findl, a ser-
vant of their last host went before, to show Ihe
way. They had occasion at lasi to pass a river,
when the youth, who seemed to watch csery op-
portunity of doing mischief, approached the care-
less guide, as he watcrossing Ihe wooden bridge,
and pushed him into the river ; tie cried for help,
but in vain; he sunk, to rise no inmore I
The hermit's eyes now sparkled ith rage he
overcame his fears, and thus exclaimed-" De-
lested wretch !"-but before he could speak ano-
ther word-his companion seemed no longer a
man: he appeared as an angel from hcaten.

The hermit stood astonished, and knew not what
to say-The Angel thus addressed him : "' The
Almighty Creator has a right to do as he pleases
with his own-Learn the inmstery of Providence
-That vain man, who fared sumptuously every
day was too luxurious to be good; he was pmoud
of his side-board of plate, and forced his guest.
to drink morning draughts of wine: by losing hal
golden cup, he has broke off that custoi, but
still welcomes every stranger, though with less
pomp and expense.
As for that suspicious miser, with whom I left
the cup, he may learn, that if mortals will be
kind, Providence can well repay their benevo-
lence; conscious of this, his icy bosom now, for
the first time, feels the warmth of compassion.
The child of our pious friend had almost wean-
ed his affections from God; but to teach him bet-
ter, the Lord, to save the father, has taken the
child. To all but us, he seemed to go off in fits,
and I was ordained to call him hence. The poor
father, now humbled in tears, owns that the pu-
nishment was just.
But had the false servant, whom I drowned, re-
turned back in safely, wta fund of chariv
would have been lost! for he had laid a ph
against the life of his master, and this very night
intended to put it into execution-Thus then be
instructed, no more to dispute Ihe isdomni of Pro-
vidence; but humbly acknowledge the equity of
the divine counsels, and thy own inability tojudge
of them aright.

I remember, said Masler Josiah, that some good
men we read of in the Psalms have been under Ihe
sa"me temptation; for the I'Psalmisl says, That his
feet had well nigh stipt, for he was eniaous at the
foolish, when he beheld ithe proaperiti of the wick-
ed:, but when he went into Ilie house of God, and
learned their miserable end, he no more repined
at Providence ; but was content li be any thing
hete, so he might binrhate Heaven al last, anti
have Grace to carry him there.
They then sang this pretty Hyimn :


GOD moves in a mysterious ay,,
His wonders to perform :
He plants his footsteps in the qea,
And rides upon the slorm.
Judge not the Lord by feeble senate,
But trust him for his Grace :
Behind a frowning Prot idence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding eiv hour:
The bul may hMe a miller late,
But sweet will be the floui'r.
Blind unbelief issure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter.
And he will make it plain.

IN my father's library (said Master Prayerful) is
a most excellent little book, giving an account
of Amelia Geddie, from her infancy to her death,
which happened February the 2d. 1688, when she
was about sixteen. I can only promise you a few
particulars which I remember. It was remarked
of her, that before she could speak, if she had
been crying, or out of humour, (as you know lit-
tle folks too often are) if she perceived any of the
family where she was, were about to go to pray-
er, she would be perfectly silent in a moment, and
continue as quiet as a lamb, during the whole time
of worship.
As soon as she could speak, she would ask ques-
tions about God and the creation.-For instance,
Whether the sun shined on her grandfather and
grandmother; and when she was told that the
same sun gave light to all the world, she replied,
Ought we not then to love that God who made
all theje things and gave them to us.
Before she was three 3earsold, she used to ask
a blessing on her food, with words of her own.
One day, when her mother had reproved her
for nut giving a good account of her lemon, she
was afterwards fimnd weeping ; td being asMhed,
Why do you weep ? you were not'beat; she an-
swered, I had rather have been beat than anger
my mother ; the thought of my mother's being
angry makes me weep."

Being sorely troubled in soul, she went to a
good %nman of her acquaintance, who asked the
cause of her distress: to which she answered,
" The devil takes thle good word oit of the very
bottom or my heart, and often says to me, What
needs all this noise wilh }our religion P Other
children will get to Heaven as soon as you."
Being asked what she did when so tempted; she
replied, I know no other way than to go to the
Lord in prayer: and I desire God's people to
pray for me, for my pra)ers are of no strength,
nor theirs neither, without Christ."
One day being drcsied line in while and red
ribands; one said. I suppose you think yourself
very fine, sheanseredl, I hall never think thai,
until I get on the clean and fair robe of Christ's
imputed righleousuegs, and then I shall be truly
fine and clean."



She would frequently give money to the beg-
gars ; and follow them to the outward gate
the house where she lived, and unjed to instruct
then', showing them that there was a God and I

hell; she would reprove them for their wicked
lives, plainly telling them, That swearing, drink-
ing, and sabbath-breaking would bring them to
She was so earnest in secret prayer, thatevery
word she uttered seemed to come from the bottom
of her heart.
She learned much of the scripture by heart, and
could correctly repeat many chapters, particular-
ly the 8th of Romans, which she said was a whole
bible to her: also the 15th, 16th, and 17th chap-
ters of St. John's gospel, and IIth of Hebrews,
many of the Psalms, and almost all Solomon's
Songs, &c. She was asked, Why she got so
much by heart, seeing she had a bible at hand ?
She answered, I fear the time will come that I
shall want it, and 1 cannot live without the pre-
cious bible.
When she was exercised with strong pains of
the gravel, her patience was truly admirable;
never uttering a rash word, or giving the least
signs of impatience or weariness. 1 I have heard
(she would say) of many sick persons, who have
said, when it is morning, 0 that it were evening;
and when it is evening-0O that it were morning!
but as for me, 1 must confess, to the glhry of free
grace, that the time, night and day, is made plea-
sant to me by the Lord ; When it is evening, it is
pleasant; and % hen it is morning, I am refreished."
Being asked %hat supporled her, she answered,
I look upon my trouble as the fruit of my sin.
I am made to Monder iU has not been always so
with me.

I am helped to bless the Lord that it is no wore.
Means are used, and I look to him to bless tihemn
as far as he seems good.
I submit whether for life or death. And I
have the faith that it will be better, for I reckon
that the sufferings of the present limre are not
worthy to be compared with the glory that shall
be revealed.
Not long before she died, this scripture came
to her mind, Give me thine heart; to which she
replied, 0 reasonable demand-if t had a thou-
sand hearts thou art worthy of them all.
On the Saturday night before her death, she
often said, This following sabbath will be my
last; and expressed a vehement desire for an
everlasting sabbath.
Having slept till eight o'clock, and finding it
was so late, she said, She thought to have spent it
better than to sleep so long-After this 4he men-
tioned with admiration, almost all the names and
titles given to Christ in his holy word. She also
spoke something concerning every one to the
astonishment of all that heard her. He is, said she,
t7e chief of ten thousand, and added, the chief of
all to me.
Somebody thinking that she was just departing,
brought a light to see; but she smiled and said,
I shall not die just now-Bow do you know that ?
I miss that promised presence, which fur many a
day 1 have believed 1 shall get in the moment of
Through great weakness she had not been able
1 !1

to raise her bead up in bed, but now she arose and
sat straight up, prayed to God and pleaded his
promises, saying, Now let it be according to thy
precious word to my soul, for there is nothing in
me; adding, it is only upon the blood of the
Lord Jesus, and the faithfulness of God I depend.
After this, a little wine was given her, and she
said, Now no more of the creature; and imme-
diate desired her mother to pray. When her
mother was giving her up to God, she was ob-
served to smile, and as soon as prayer was done,
she closed her eyes and lips, as one falling asleep,
and so quietly resigned her soul to God.
Master Tender, who should have spoken next,
was so very much affected, that he begged to be
excused relating any history : he could only say,
I pray to God to make us all like Amelia GCddie.
-But however they sung the following hymn :

COME, children, learn to fear the Lord,
And that your days be long,
Let not a false or spiteful word,
Be found upon your tongue.

Depart from mischief, practise love,
Pursue the works of peace;
So shall the Lord your ways approve,
And set your souls at ease.

He bids his angels pilch their tents,
Round where his children dwell

What ills his heav'nly care prevent,
No earthly tongue can tell.
0! children, come and taste his love!
Come learn his pleasant ways,
And let your own experience prove,
The sweetness of his grace.

W E have hitherto, said Master Josiah, (Hho
sat next) heard of those whose lot was cast
(as most of God's people are) in the lower rank"
of life: but I have read of one most illu.rlouwi
prince, who was much more honourable by his
grace than his earthly dignities.
Prince Edward was but just nine years old,
when, by the death of his father, he became king
of England.
He was possessed of such extraordinary qualin.
cations, that the nation entertained (and very
justly, I think) the highest expectations of last-
ing happiness and prosperity.
It was among his least commendations, that h
was surprisingly learned for his age; he %a, abi
to speak-Latin fluently, and was well vrr.ed i
Greek, Italian, and other languages; in [he a
quirement of which knowledge, he wa- a Ia

Ready to leave his diversions, when the appointed
hour of study returned.
No sooner was he settled upon the throne, than
he promoted, by every means he could, the great
work of reforming England from popish idolatry
and superstition, by enacting good laws, and en-
couraging and promoting all pious, learned, and
diligent men, whether bishops or others, who
faithfully explained and enforced the truths of
the gospel.
The nation having but just shaken off popish
superstition and cruelty, retained still too much of
what always belonged to popery, I mean persecu-
tion for conscience' sake.
A warrant was brought for the young king to
sign, for the burning Joan of Kent, who was con-
demned as an heretic. He was extremely un-
willing to do it; but archbishop Cranmer, and
others, using many arguments, at last overper-
suaded him. When he had signed his name,
with tears in his eyes, he said, If I have done
wrong, Cranmer, you shall answer it al the day
of judgment.
At another time, the same archbishop had been
pleading with him to permit his popish sister
Mary (afterwards the bloody butcher of old'ss
people) to have mass performed publicly in her
house; he could not, by the strongest arguments,
be prevailed upon to consent. The archibihop
coming out of the king's presence, met wilh Mr.
Cheeke, who had been his school-master, and %a-
luted him thus-Sir, you may be glad all the da.s

of your life, that you had the education of such a
scholar; adding, that the king had more divinity
in his little finger than they had in both their
whole bodies.
In January, the beginning of the 71h year of his
reign, he fell sick, and in the time of his sickness
bishop Ridley preached before him, and much re-
commended works of charity, especially to those
who were rich and great. After dinner the king
sent for him, and after thanking him for his ser-
mon, repeated the principal parts of it; and then
added, I take myself to be chiefly touched in
your speech; for as in kingdom I am next under
God, so I ought to be most like him in mercy
and goodness. Therefore as you have given me
this general exhortation, direct me, I beseech
you, by what particular act, I may beft discharge
my duty.
The bishop being astonished, as uell he might,
declared to the king that he was not prepared at
present to answer so weighty a question but if
his majesty pleased he would consult wilh the
city of London, and return him their answer.
In consequence of this, the poor mere ranked in
three classes: for each of which, the king gave
some houses, and lands; and founded the Blue
S Coat School, and St. Bartholomew's Hoipilal, in
Smithfield, and the Bridewell, by Fleet-Ditch :
which being done, he thanked God, for prolong-
ing his life to finish the business.
But, alas! this pious prince, of whom England
was not worthy, was soon to be removed from his

H, I

earthly throne, to be crowned with never-fa"g
When he was about sixteen he was seized with
a consumption, which daily growing upon him,
goon threatened his dissolution.
Physicians and others tried all the powers of
physic in vain: he was given over, and death
hastily approached.
About three hours before he died, his eyes being
closed, and thinking nobody was within hearing,
he offered up this prayer :
0 Lord God, deliver me out of this miserable
and wretched life, and take me amongst thy cho-
sen ; howbeit, not my will, but thine be done:
Lord, I commit my soul to thee; 0 Lord, thou
knowest how happy it were for me to be with
thee; yet for thy chosen's sake send me life and
health ; that I may truly serve thee. 0 Lord,
my God, bless thy people and save thine inheri-
tance. 0 Lord God, save Ihy chosen people of
England; 0 my Lord God, defend this realm
from popery, and maintain the true religion, that
1 and thy people may praise thy holy name, for
thy Son Jesus Christ's sake.
Then turning his face and seeingsome nigh, he
said, Are you so nigh ? I thought you had been
farther off. Many fervent prayers he put up;
and his last words were these, I am faint, Lord,
have mercy upon me, aud take my spirit; and
so committed his pious soul into the hands of his
heavenly Father.
He died July 6, 1653, in his 17th year.

PrHY should I say, 'tis yet too soon
To seek for Heav'n or think of death ?
A flow'r may fade before 'tis noon,
And I this day may lose my breath.
If this rebellious heart of mine
Should slight the gracious calls of Heav'n ;
I may be harden'd in my sin,
And never have repentance giv'n.
What if the Lord in wrath should swear,
Whilst I neglect to read and pray,
That he'll refuse to lend an ear
To all my groans another day.

M/IASTER Goodchild being at home, was the
last to speak; and he told the story of the
Prodigal Son, which is related in the 15th chapter
of St. Luke.
You must undoubtedly, my dear friends (said
he) remember reading in the Bible of a rich and
great man, %6o had two sons. The younger of
them, though he had all the indulgence thai a
good boy could wish for, and more than a bad
one deserved, was nevertheless so naught) as to
wish to be from under his father's eye, and so be
able without restraint or reproof, to indulge him-
self in all manner of wickedness with greedints.
-Accordingly he applies to his father, and for

that purpose desires to have all that was intended
for him : and the good-natured parent, unwilling
to cross his inclination, consents to his request,
and gives him a great deal of money.
The rake, overjoyed with his success, scrapes
together all he could, and then sets off (Oh! I it
was lthe worst thing he ever did in his life) into
the country a great way off, where his father
might neither see nor hear from him: from
which, you see it is plaih he did not love his
parents, and so broke the fifth commandment.
Being now (forsooth) his own master, and neg-
lecting God, Prayer, and his Bible; and having
no kind father to consult-he gave the full swing
to all sensual lusts and passions: and like most
extravagant people, soon spent all he was worth
-lost his money and friends (such as they were)
together: and at the same time a famine happen-
ing, it is no wonder that he came to want a mor-
sel of bread.
In this distress, his pride being brought down,
he was glad of any employment to get him food;
so after having lived like a swine he was fain
to become a feeder of swine; and still, bread
being so scarce, he could not get a bit, then he
would gladly have filled his belly with the husks
the swine ate, but even these were denied him.
Oh! how little did he think, when at home,
with good clothes on hii hack, a plentiful table,
warn fire-side, and a comfortable bed, that by
one rash act, he -liould be brought into such dis-
tress, as to want clulhesfoud, fire, and lodging:




all these he wanted ; and instead of his pious fa-
ther, his brother, and other friends to converse
with, all his company were the grunting pigs,
Sand his best apartment a hog-styc.
S But however, when he came to himself, and
used that reflection he had been long a stranger
I to, he began to reason thus with himself: Fool
I that I am thus to remain in hunger and wretch-
I edness, when in my father's house there is a plen-
ty of every thing! where the meanest servant hav
More than enough!-I will arise and go to my
Father; though he might well reject me, frown at
Sme, and call me rebel, as I am, yet sure he retains
['. a parent's heart; his compassion will kindle when
he sees his son, and I won't conceal or deny any
i of my faults; but will say, Father, I have sinned
against Heaven, and before thee, and am no more
.' worthy to be called thy son: give me the meanest
place in thy house, and 4 will be thankful."

No sooner said than done. Up he gets; and
though he had now no chaise or horse to convey
him, he trudged as fast as he could on foot, nor
would any thing stop him till within sight of home.
The dear aged father, who had often cast a
wishful eye lowards that Jur country, whither this
poor boy was fled, was now, perhaps, walking
upon his house, or on some lofty terrace in his
garden, and sees-what ?-his son ?-yes: it was
his poor son: but 0 how changed I once, he was
a tall, handsome, healthy-looking lad, but now a
poor, meagre, ragged, filthy wretch. Neverthe-
less, the dear old gentleman runs, as fast as he
can, to meet the returning prodigal.
The youth filled with love and grief, falls
down before him, and with a weeping eye, a
blushing face, and faltering voice, owns all his
vast offence. The father now is so full of joy,
that he does not mention one of his faults; folds
him to his bosom, kisses away his tears, and calls
aloud for the servants : "Bring here-he eager-
ly cries-bring here the best robe %ou o :an fimil;
bring here the ring to ornament his finger, and
shoes for his feet; provide quickly an handsome
dinner, and let us and all our neighhonrs rejoice
-for this mny son was dead, and is alive again:
witas lost and isfound."
Here was a solemnn pause.-Who could have
helped crying, if Ihey heard in what a pathetic
manner the story was recited /-All were dis-
solved in tears.
At length Master Tender broke silence and

said, See here, my dear companions, the sad re-
sult'of despising and disobeying our pious pa-
rents; and what comes from the foolish desire of
being from under their care and authority!
Nor is this all, said Master Considerate, I have
heard the ministers say, that this returning prodi-
gal represents to us a repenting singer, who, by
departing from God and his ways, has plunged
himself into distress and ruin; but when helped
by the grace of God's Spirit to bethink himself,
and mourn for his offences, is like the prodigal,
encouraged by the well known tender mercies of
a compassionate Saviour to return and confess his
sin-own the justness of his misery, and receive
pardon, peace, and happiness, as a free and unde-
served gift.-May the Lord help us to go and do
Then with cheerful hearts and voices they unit-
ed in the following hymn:
WHAT blest examples do I find
Writ in the word of truth;
Of children that begin to mind
Religion in their youth.
Children a sweet Hosannah sung,
And bles Ihht ir Saviour's name;
They gave him honour with their tongue,
While scribes and priests blaspheme.
Samuel, the child, was wean'd and brought
To wait upon the Lord r
Young Timothy betimes was taught
To know his holy word.

Then why should I so long delay
What others learn so soon?
I would not pass another day
Without this work begun.
When the little pious assembly had sung this
hymn, Master Goodchild concluded the happy op-
portunity with solemn prayer-beseeching the
Lord to make them like the good children they
had been speaking of. And I hope, my little
reader, that your heart too begins to long to be
like them-does it not ?
0 then pray, and pray again nor rest content
till Jesus Christ make you to know and feel that
He has redeemed you with his precious Blood,
and that you shall live and reign with Him in
Glory everlasting. Amen and Amen.

Master and Miss Goodchild having thus spent
their holidays at home, in the most improving
manner, were, on the appointed day, again con-
ducted to school-to which they returned with
the utmost pleasure; well knowing the need they
stood in of farther instruction of every branch of
useful knowledge.
And there, for the present, we leave them, pur-
suing, with diligence and delight, the same excel-
lent course of study and devotion that we describ-
ed in the beginning of this book-and where they
are daily growing infavour with God and man.



RISE, my soul, adore thy Maker
Angels praise,; join the lays,
With them be partaker.
Father, Lord of ev'ry spirit,
In thy light, lead me right,
Thro' my Saviour's merit.
0 my Jesus I God Almighty,
Pray for me till 1 see
Thee in Salem's city.
Holy Ghost divine instructor,
Guide me still; let thy will
Be my sole conductor.
Thou this night wast my protector,
With me stay all the day,
Ever my director.
Holy, Holy, Holy Giver
Of all good, life, and food,
Reign, ador'd for ever.

Ere I sleep, for ev'ry favour
This day show'd by my God,
I will bless my Saviour.
0 my Lord! what shall I render
To thy name still the same,
Gracious, good and tender.

Leave me not but ever love me:
S Let thy peace be my bliss,
Till thou hence remove me.
Visit me with thy salvation :
Let thy care now be near,
Round my habitation.
Be my rock, my guard, my tow'rI
While I sleep, safely keep
Mie with all thy pow'r.
So whenever in death I slumber,
Let me rise, with the wise,
Counted in their number.


AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and early rise
To pay the morning sacrifice.
Redeem thy mispent time that's past:
Live this day as if 'twere thy last:
T' improve thy talents take due care;
'Gainst the great day thyself prepare.
Let all thy converse be sincere;
Thy conscience as the noon-day clear:
Think how th' all-seeing God thy ways
And all thy secret thoughts surveys.
Glory to God, who safe hath kept,
And hath refreshed me while I slept;

Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake.
Direct, control, suggest this day,
All I design, or do, or say;
That all my pow'rs with all their might
In thy sole glory may unite.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow :
Praise Him all creatures here below ;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.


GLORY to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, 0 keep me, King of kings,
Under thy own almighty wings..
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
Whatever ills this day I've done;
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere 1 sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed:
Teach me to die, that so I may
Triumphing rise at the last day.
0 may my soul on thee repose,
And with sweet sleep my eye-lids close:
Sleep that may me more vigorous make
To serve my God, when 1 awake.

Let my blest guardians, while I sleep,
Close to my bed their vigils keep:
Let no vain dreams disturbs my res ;
No pow'rs of darkness me nmolesl.
Praise God, &c.


SAFELY through another week
God has brought us on our way,
Let us now a blessing seek
On th' approaching Sabbath-day:
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
Mercies, inul1il)lyv'd each hour,
Thro' the week our praise demand;
Guarded by Almighty Pow'r,
Fed and guided by his hand:
Tho' ungrateful we have been:
Only made relurv of sin.
While we pray for paid'ning grace
In the dear Redeemer's name,
Show thy reconciled face,
Shine away our sin and shame:
From our worldly cares set free;
May we rest Ibis night in thee.
When the morn shall bid us rise,
Let us feel thy presence near;
May thy glory meet our eyes
When we in thy house appear:

There afford us, Lord, a taste
Of our everlasting feast.
May thy Spirit's voice resound,
Conquer sinners, comfort saints;
May the fruits of Grace abound
Bring relief for all our wants:
Thus let all our Sabbaths prove,
Till we join the church above.


BLEST day of God, most calm, most bright,
The first and best of days ;
The laborer's rest, the saint's delight,
A day of pray'r and praise.
My Saviour's face made thee to shine,
His rising did thee raise;
This made thee heav'nly and divine,
Beyond the common days.
The first-fruits do a btesing prove
To all the sheaves behind;
And they who do a Sabbath love,
A happy week shall find.
This day, must I for God appear,
For Lord, the day is thine;
O may I spend it in thy fear,
Then shall the day be mine.
Throughout the day, cease work and play,
That 1 to God may rest;

0 let me talk with God and walk
With God, and I am blest.
Let thy good Spirit help my soul,
With faith thy word to hear;
Be with me in the temple. Lord,
And let me find thee near.


WHEN, 0 dear Jesus, when shall I
Behold thee all serene?
Bless'd in perpetual Sabbath-day,
Without a veil between.
Assist me while I wander here,
Amidst a world of cares;
Incline my heart to pray, in faith,
And then accept my prayers.
Release my sol from every chain,
No more hell's captive led ;
And pardon a repenting child,
For whom the Saviour bled.
Spare me, 0 God, 0 spare the soul
That joins itself to thee;
Take all that I possess below,
And give thyself to me.
Thy Spirit, 0 my Father, give
To be my guide and friend,
To light my way to ceaseless joys,
Where sabbaths never end.



ONCE on a time, a paper kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where, giddy with- its elevation,
It thus expressed self-admiration:
" See how yon crowds of gazing people
SAdmire my flight above the steeple;
" How would they wonder if they knew
" AU that a kite, like me, could do!
"Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
"And pierce the clouds beyond their sight.
"But ah like a poor prisoner bound,
" My string confines me to the ground.
" I'd brave the eagle's tow'ring wing,
" Might I but fly without a string."
It tugg'd and pull'd, while thus it spoke,
To break the string ;-at last it broke;
Depriv'd at once of all its slay,
In vain it try'd to soar away ;
Unable its own weight to bear,
It fiutter'd downward through the air;
Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plung'd it in the tide.
Oh! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing,
How couldst thou fly without a string ?
My heart reply'd, 0 Lord, 1 see
How much this kite resembles me !
rorgeliful that by thee I stand,
lnipalienl! of the ruling hand,

How oft I've wished to break the lines
Thy wisdom for my lot assigns I
How oft indulg'd a vain desire
For something more or something higher
And but for Grace and Love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been mine."

PRITHEE, little buzzing fly,
Edding round my taper-why ?
Is it that its qniv'ring light,
Dazzling, captivates thy sight ?
Bright my taper is. 'tis true:
Trust me, 'tis too bright for you.
'Tis a flame, fond thing, beware;
'Tis a flame you cannot bear:
Touch it, and 'tis instant fate;
Take my counsel ere too late:
Buzz no longer round and round,
Settle on the wall or ground ;
Sleep till morning-with the day,
Rise and use your wings; you may
Use 'emr then-of danger clear-
Wait till morning, so my dear.
Lo my counsel nought avails,
Round, and round, and round it sails,
Sails with idle unconcern-
Prithee, trifler, canst thou burn?
Madly heedless as thou art,
Know thy danger and depart.
Why persist ?-I plead in vain,
Sing'd it falls and writhes in pain.

Is not this, deny who can ;
Is not this a draught of man -
Like the fly he rashly tries
Pleasure's burning sphere, and dies.
Vain the friendly caution : still
He rebels: alas! and will.
What I sing let pride apply,
Flies are weak, and man's a fly.


Before.-BLESS, Lord, these creatures for our
(Thy bounty from above)
But feed our souls with nobler food,
And let us taste thy love.
.4fter.-We thank thee for thy goodness, Lord,
We bless thy wondrous love ;
0 may we meet around thy board,
In realms of peace above.
Before.-Be present at our table, Lord,
Be here and every where ador'd:
These creatures bless, and grant that we
May feast in Paradise with thee.
.4fler.-We thank thee, Lord, for this our food,
But more because of Jesus' blood,
Let manna to our soul be given,
The bread of life sent down from heav'n.
Before.-Jesus, our outward wants relieve;
But oh, the food immortal give,
Our hungry souls to fill '

Sustain us by thy pard'ning grace,
And lead us through this wilderness,
To the celestial hill.
oJfter.-Happy the man to whom 'tis given
To eat the bread of life in heav'n
This happiness in Christ we prove
Who banquet on forgiving love.
MY God, who makes the sun to know
His proper hour to rise,
And to give light to all below,
Doth send him round the skies.
When from the chambers of the east,
His morning race begins;
He never tires nor stops to rest,
But round the world he shines.
So like the sun wonid I fulfil
The business of the day :
Begin my work betimes, and still
March on my heav'nly way.
Give me, 0 Lord, thine early grace,
Nor let my soul complain;
That the young morning of my days
Has all been spent in vain.

AND now another day is gone,
I'll sing my Maker's praise;
My comforts every hour make known
His Providence and Grace.

But how my childhood runs to waste,
My sins how great their sum I
Lord, give me pardon for the past,
And strength for time to come.
I lay my body down to sleep,
Let angels guard my head;
And through the hours of darkness keep
Their watch around my bed.
With cheerful heart I close mine eyes,
Since thou wilt not remove;
And in the morning let me rise
Rejoicing in thy love.

HUSH! my dear, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed i
Heav'nly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supply'd.
How much better thou'rt attended,
Than the Son of God could be, '
WVhen from heav'n he descended,
And became a child like thee !
Soft and easy is thy cradle,
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay;
When his birth-place was a stable,
And his softest bed was hay.

Blessed babe! what glorious features,
Spotless fair, divinely bright,
Must he dwell with brutal creatures
How could angels bear the sight?
Was there nothing but a manger,
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the heav'nly stranger ?
Did they thus affront their Lord
Soft my child I I did not chide thee,
Though my song might sound too hard;
'Tis thy nurse* that sits beside thee,
And her arm shall be thy guard.
Yet to read the shameful story,
How the Jews abus'd their King,
How they served the Lord of Glory,
Makes me angry while I sing.
See the kindred shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky ;
Where they sought him, there they found him,
With his virgin mother by.
See the lovely babe a-dressing;
Lovely infant! how he smil'd!
When he wept, the mother's blessing
Sooth'd and hush'd the holy child.
Lo, he slumbers in a manger,
Where the horned oxen fed;

Here you may use the word, mother, bro-
ther, sister, neighbour, friend, &c.

Peace, my darling, here's no danger,
Here's no ox a-near jhy bed.
'Twas to save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,
Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came.
May'st thou live to know and fear him,
Trust and love him all thy days I
Then go dwell for ever dear him,
See his face and sing his praise!
I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes,
Can to greater joys aspire.


I MUST pray-both night and day.
Before I eat-I must entreat
That God would bless to me my meat.
I must not play on the sabbath- day;
But I must hear God's word in fear.
I must not lie, I must not feign;
I must not take God's name in vain.
It is a sin to steal a pin,
Much more to steal a greater thing,


Henrs Mozley, Printer, Derby,