THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ADVICE DAUGHTER MARY, UPON HER GOING TO SERVICE; Ilf A &nit$ of H(gcoum0, DESIGNED TO PROMOTE THE WELFARE AND TRUE INTEREST OF SERVANTS, WITH Reflections of no less Importance to Masters and Mistresses. Uonlron : Printed by George Smallfield, Hackney, For the Unitarian Society ; AND SOLD BY R. HUNTER, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD, AND D. EATON, 187, HIGH HOLBORN. 1818. 1 CONTENTS. -* DISCOURSE I. GENERAL exhortations on the duty of prayer; the goodness of God as expressed in the works of the creation. DISCOURSE II. On the duties of the sabbath. DISCOURSE III. On the general duty, great advantage, and regulation of the hours of prayer. DISCOURSE IV. Some mistakes on the subject of prayer rectified ; advantages of religious conversation ; family-prayer ; respect for ministers. DISCOURSE v. On the person of Christ ; the state of the Jewish nation ; duty of receiving the Lord's supper ; some mistakes about it rectified. DISCOURSE VI. Some account of Mary's father; of her mother; the beauties of nature contrasted with a city life. ADVERTISEMENT. IT has been regretted, that amongst the variety of new books which every day make their appearance, there should be so very few which are at all calculated for the use and improvement of the youth in the lower classes of life. A few writers, however, have made it their business particularly to consider them ; and, in this way, not many have been more distinguished than the worthy author from whose works the following little book is chiefly extracted. Mr. Hanway has written professedly for the poor, and his memory will live and be respected in the character of Farmer Trueman, (and as having also been the promoter of many excellent cha- rities,) long after the period when all worldly distinctions will have ceased to be of any value. CONTENTS. DISCOURSE I. GENERAL exhortations on the duty of prayer ; the goodness of God as expressed in the works of the creation. DISCOURSE II. On the duties of the sabbath. DISCOURSE III. On the general duty, great advantage, and regulation of the hours of prayer. DISCOURSE IV. Some mistakes on the subject of prayer rectified ; advantages of religious conversation ; family-prayer ; respect for ministers. DISCOURSE v. On the person of Christ ; the state of the Jewish nation ; duty of receiving the Lord's supper ; some mistakes about it rectified. DISCOURSE VI. Some account of Mary's father; of her mother; the beauties of nature contrasted with a city life. DISCOURSE VII. On the importance of time ; story of the life and death of a fine lady ; calculation of the improbability of a long life ; thoughts on death. DISCOURSE VIII. The attainment of holiness our chief good ; deaths of Jonathan, of Richard, of Peter, of "Squire William, of a Gentleman, of Nicholas, of Sir Ralph, of Sir George, of Philip, of Mr. Abraham, of Cousin Thomas. DISCOURSE IX. The comparative character of the female sex ; death of Cousin Lucy, of a French lady, of Mary's mother, of Amelia, of Eleanor ; reflections on her death ; duty of exhorting and of comforting dying persons. DISCOURSE x. Further reflections on the certainty of death, on the resurrection, on the value of the New Testament, on the fateof t he ancient empires. DISCOURSE XI. On superstition ; story of Dame Tempest ; on enthu- siasm ; on melancholy. DISCOURSE XII. Charity for difference of opinion ; great importance Of a good conscience. DISCOURSE XIII. The advantages of humility ; of a low station ; the consequences of a virtuous or vicious conduct. Til DISCOURSE XIV. The advantages of patience ; the evil of censoriousness. DISCOURSE xv. The importance of truth. DISCOURSE XVI. On pride ; story of a prostitute ; on vanity ; on flattery. DISCOURSE XVII. On envy ; on malice ; on revenge ; on cunning. DISCOURSE XVIII. On the too eager pursuit of pleasure ; oi> amusement ; on the choice of company ; on conversation. DISCOURSE XIX. Generosity ; charity ; character of Mrs. Ann Saracen ; reflections upon it. DISCOURSE xx. On the reciprocal duties of masters and servants ; honesty in servitude ; story of William Stitch ; the necessity of keeping accounts; story of Theodosia Hope; the character of her mother; more reflections on the reciprocal duties of masters and servants. DISCOURSE XXI. The danger of change of service ; the danger of becoming a favourite ; duty relative to fellow-servants ; the probable way in which Mary will be treated by her mistress ; usefulness of looking at a person spoken to ; usefulness of keeping a memorandum book ; on the duty of cleanliness ; cautions in relation to fire. vm DISCOURSE XXII. The blessings of temperance ; on propriety of dress ; on the danger of crowded meetings. DISCOURSE XXIII. Duty of learning to read ; of reading the Scriptures ; on writing ; on frugality ; the necessity of caution ; fable of the lamb ; on modesty ; on bashfulness. DISCOURSE XXIV. On friendship ; on love. DISCOURSE XXV. Warning against seducers ; danger of going to London, of being fond of fine clothes ; duty of chastity ; the danger of listening to superiors in fortune ; story of Caroline. DISCOURSE XXVI. On marriage ; fable of the two hounds ; on jealousy ; story of Harry Winter ; story of Jane Sprightly ; tender- ness for children. DISCOURSE XXVII. Character of Mary's mistress, contrasted with that of my Lord Goodchild ; conclusion of the character of Mary's mistress. CONCLUSION. Duty to parents ; final exhortation ; prayers ; devotion, and hymns. ADVICE FROM FARMER TRUEMAN, &c. DISCOURSE I. ^ MARY, you have seen the good lady, Mrs. - : if she approves of you, I hope you will like to serve her. Come, sit down; I have much to say to you, if my heart is not too full. Your dear mother is gone before me, and has left me to act for her ; and happy is it for you that I am alive ; for young women, particularly of your condition in life, when left parentless, are so much at their own disposal, that they often dispose of themselves very badly. Methinks, MARY, a separation after seventeen years' tender acquaintance with thee, even from thy birth, is like parting with the blood that streams through my heart, especially as thou art going into a world thou art not so well acquainted with as I am. Believe me it is a world full of danger ; yet, if thou hast the wisdom, whenever possible, to avoid, and the fortitude, when un- avoidable, to withstand, the assaults of temptation, then will thy virtue be confirmed, thou wilt enjoy the heart-felt tranquillity of an approving conscience, and wilt feel the force of that beautiful sentiment of the psalmist, " Great is the peace they have who love thy law, O God !" Remember, MARY, thou hast a Father besides me, a far greater and better, to whose care I re- commend thee; and if thou couldst but always bear in mind that his eye is ever upon thee, that with him " the night is clear as the day," and hence learn to act always in his holy prescence ; and to ask thyself continually, " Will, not such company, will not such amusement, lead me into sin ? Durst I solemnly ask of God to prosper such or such an undertaking ?" Then would my heart rest assured that thou wouldst escape the evil that is in the world ; for those who walk in his fear he hath graciously promised never to forsake. O God, preserve my child.' keep her from presumptuous sins; and cleanse her from those secret faults which cleave to our imperfect nature t and make her acceptable to thee, whom I have sought to serve, by breeding up my children in thy fear. You cannot easily conceive how dear you are to me! but know, my daughter, that while I employ my thoughts and indulge my anxious wishes to preserve you, I also consult my own happiness with regard to both worlds : so hath the wisdom of the Almighty ordained, that good intentions and good actions are ever self-re- warded. Consider, my dear MARY, that whether you look up to heaven, or down upon the earth, if your thoughts are not dissipated like the thoughts of a child, you will see infinite reason to adore your Maker. There is nothing to discourage you in the duty of prayer ; there is no bodily labour in the dis- charge of it, unless it is spun out beyond measure, which it never ought to be. All rational exer- cises of religion would be highly pleasant, *were not men extremely degenerate. Far indeed from considering it as a task, I hope you will make such progress in the fear and in the love of God, as to know by experience that prayer is a very great privilege. I assure you, MARY, that when I retire, and pour out my heart in the presence of that Being to whose goodness I am indebted for every thing I possess, and upon whose favour hangs every future hope; I assure you, MARY, that those are the happiest moments of my life. Even contrition for past offences, and sorrow for innumerable remaining infirmities, when accom- panied by deep humility and due resignation of mind, diffuse over me a sweetness, a calm serenity of spirit, which the little interests of the present passing scene, its prosperities, or its adversities, can neither give, nor, in any outward circumr stances, however afflicting, can wholly take away. B 2 The gracious and awful presence of God, and the continuance of his blessing towards you, is not only necessary to your success, but also to your very being. When I go into my fields, MARY, I look up with joy towards the heavens; but where the stupendous height of them ends, is past searching out: I can only adore, and wonder. f -When I arise to my work, and behold the glorious appearance of the sun, I consider it as a " marvellous instrument of the work of the Most High" and eternal God. When I behold its effects shewn by day, I rejoice. When I consider it as the means whereby my blood circulates in my veins, and gives motion to my pulse and heart, I fall down in gratitude, not to the sun, but to him that made it and rules its power. This also is the instrument which ani- mates even the clods of the earth, making the grain shoot from its bosom, and in due time bringing it to maturity, for the use of man. Were it kept bound in the winter's frost, I need not tell you that my labour in sowing would be lost. But what is this compared to the beauty of the heavens and the clear firmament, when we enjoy fine weather? Is not your heart enraptured when you consider whose handy-work it is ? Do not the spring and summer charm you with the melody of birds, the verdure of the earth, and the refreshing stream ? .Can you see a rain- bow and not praise him that made it? " Very beautiful it is in the brightness thereof: it coin- passeth the heavens about with a glorious circle, and the hand of the Most High hath bended it." Hast thou not considered how often the showers refresh the earth when it is weary with drought, and, as they fall, bring with them marrow and fatness, to cheer the hearts of men and beasts ? The snow also bringeth plenty on the earth by the manure contained in it. " As birds flying, the Almighty scattereth it, and the falling down thereof is as the lightning of the grasshoppers. The eye marvelleth at the beauty of the whiteness thereof, and the heart is astonished at the raining of it." And hast thou never stood in religious reverence, though I hope with no childish fears or foolish dreads, at the noise of thunder and storms, which make as it were this globe of earth to tremble ? But when the lightnings come with astonishing swiftness, art thou not struck with awe ? Great, O Lord, and wonderful are thy works ! As the day declares the glory and power of God, so at night, when you retire to refresh your wearied limbs, consider every star hung out as a lamp to shew you his marvellous works. Con- sider that he also made the moon " to serve in her season" (as the months roll round) " for a declaration of time," and the sign that time itself will have an end. 6 All these wonders in the heavens remain in no less astonishing order, " and never faint in their watches." They move at the commandment of the Most High, and without his wise and incom- prehensible direction we mortals could not exist. We should be devoured by fire, or drowned in water, or chilled to death by cold. Thou, my child, wouldest fall like a leaf in autumn, even in the spring and bloom of thy life. Learn then, not by belief only, but by practice and a habit of thinking, that God is all in all. " When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as you can, for he will ever far exceed ; and when you exalt him, put forth all your strength and be not weary." Our praise is grateful, though it be weak. O my daughter, he is all in all. " He hath made all things, and to the godly he hath given wisdom." Thus far you may judge from what you see and hear, and surely blind are those who will not see the glory of God displayed in his works ; and deaf, when they will not hear his voice, either of reason or faith, though these proclaim their commission as received from heaven. DISCOURSE II. ABOVE all things I charge you, my daughter, to pay a strict regard and reverence to the sab- bath of the Lord. Let this be one of your first concerns, and remember that the sabbath is of divine appointment. The neglect of this day, in all civilized coun- tries, has been generally the great inlet to all manner of wickedness. It were easy by a variety of arguments to prove, that wherever the sabbath is broken, a whole tide of wickedness will flow in at the breach. And as God has blessed this day and hallowed it, so they unbless themselves who profane it ; and the keeping it holy is one of the great duties of both Jew and Christian. It. is the neglect or abuse of the sabbath to which we may impute many of the evils under which our country labours, in respect to sobriety and good discipline, reverence for laws, and such a regular, uniform conduct as becomes good sub- jects and good Christians. Rejoice, then, at the return of the sabbath, not so much that you rest from your labour, as I hope you will be permitted to do, but that you have so fair an opportunity of offering your heart to your Maker. The Almighty has declared, that he is pleased 8 with the incense of prayer and praise, offered by numbers of his rational creatures assembled for the same purpose, and to make joint-supplications for mercy for their offences. Go, then, with gladness, to the house of God, not only to worship him, but to hear his word from the mouth of his ministers. Our own hearts are deceitful, but be well assured that those who have pleasure in praying to God, and put their trust in him when they pray, instead of flying from his house, they will fly to it as the place of their highest comfort and joy : praise and thanksgiving will be their entertainment, and they will pour out their hearts in humble acknowledgment of their sins past, and renew their resolutions of amendment. The first and greatest object of religion, next to the belief in God, is to worship him. Now whether you do this in public or in private, take the wise man's advice : " Before thou prayest, prepare thyself, and be not as one that tempteth the Lord." Remember also that there are two branches of devotion, supplication and praise: The Jlrst is the confession of sin and misery, and petition for relief; the last is an angelical and heavenly duty. The distinction is obvious, but I fear it is not made so often as it should be, and the reason is but too plain ; people in general are not sufficiently attentive to their prayers ; they utter words, but do not therefore pray. The duty of attending divine worship being required of all Christians without distinction of persons, those who take the liberty to dispense with it, and seldom appear at the house of prayer, are generally ignorant and abandoned wretches, who loiter about seeking a miserable diversion of their thoughts, having scarcely ever meditated on the being of a God. As God has made a separation of the sabbath- day to himself, to distinguish it by peculiar acts of devotion and religion, and it is so happy a fence against impiety, it is a sad instance of the ignorance and irreligion of the present age, to see it so universally disregarded : neither is it sufficient merely to attend public worship ; for surely to spend the remainder of that day in unmeaning dissipation and unprofitable visiting, is not to keep it holy, (that is, separate or appro- priate to purposes, of religion,) but, to say the least, does much more defeat the gracious in- tention for which it was instituted, (namely, to call our thoughts to the things of God and our own everlasting interests,) than if it were spent in the regular exercise of our daily calling. God requires our obedience ; but it is one argument, amongst a great many others, of his infinite goodness, that he does not require it in any instance, where it will not eventually pro- mote our own happiness, and exalt our character. He requires, indeed, that we should sometimes B 3 10 deny ourselves a present indulgence or amuse- ment, but then it is only in cases where such present indulgence or amusement would be hurt- ful to ourselves or others, or would in its con- sequences be prejudicial to our more important and everlasting interests. Well, therefore, might the Psalmist cry out, " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits : who for- giveth all thine iniquities, and healeth all thy diseases ; who recfeemeth thy life from destruc- tion, and crowneth thee with loving-kindness, and tender mercies ; who filleth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's." Thy devotion should indeed fly on the wings of love to the God that made thee. It is the crime and misfortune of people in our condition, and perhaps of our betters also, that when we meet to worship God, we do not generally address him with that awe and homage which become rational creatures, and, as we justly style ourselves, miserable sinners. My dear MART, endeavour to impress your mind with some suitable ideas (yet imperfect and inadequate they must ever be) of his boundless grandeur and transcendant excellence ; and remember that however faulty some of our superiors may be in their stations, the greater part of us are gene- rally worse in ours, and therefore we should mend our own manners. There are many who know H their duty, yet do not practise it ; but when our betters do not shew us an example, it is in our power to put them to the blush. The false notions, joined to the rank hypocrisy, of some of the Jews, in our Saviour's days, ran so high, that they pretended to be much scandalized at his doing works of mercy on the sabbath-day. This he reprehended with severity, leaving us a silent lesson, that such employment ought not to be deemed as labour. Works of necessity are also warrantable, such as pulling the ox out of the pit. But what shall we say of those, who, having much time on their hands on this day, when the season will not permit them to walk abroad, employ themselves about any thing, rather than in reading the Scriptures and pious and instructive books ? Alas, how wretchedly do they murder their time !, An idle person at any time is a bad sight ; but absence from the great business of the sabbath, and during divine service, is monstrous indeed ! DISCOURSE III. OUR discourse yesterday was very serious, MARY, but I did not finish what I had to say. Indeed it demanded great attention, for it was in effect nothing less than a lesson of instruction to prepare for eternity. What a deplorable condition are those in, who live all their days as without God ! and those who do not pray to him cannot be said to live with him. How grievously painful it is to the human heart, not rendered callous by the habit of wickedness, to think of being afloat in a wide sea, without provision, compass or ballast ; tossed by the tremendous billows, and driven by tern, pestuous winds, uncertain whether to sink in the profound abyss, or be dashed against the rocks, or perish by some more dreadful accident I Yet, this is- their unhappy case, who never seek to become acquainted with, or to obtain the favour of God. This is their situation, who live as it were without him ; and, however they may be at present engrossed by the vanities and false pleasures of the world, believe me, they will feel, and fully comprehend, the wretchedness of their condition, when it is too late. May you, my child, never be amongst this number ! On the other hand, those who make it their 13 constant endeavour to obey the commands of God, and to worship him in spirit and in truth, <*ain such a filial trust and confidence in his O goodness, knowing that all their interests, pre- sent and future, and the interests of those whom they love, are perfectly safe in his hands, that they have scarcely any remaining solicitude, save only to do their duty ; and what was it but a temper of mind like this that enabled so many persons, recorded in the Scriptures, and other histories of the greatest authority, to triumph even in death, submitting cheerfully to the tor- ture, when the cause of religion called them to maintain the truth, and to seal it with their blood ? Prayer is an intercourse between OUF heavenly Father and our own hearts, and therefore it is impossible to worship him acceptably, but in spirit and in truth. This is so agreeable to the common sense of mankind, that it is very easy to understand why mere words, in which the heart hath no share, are called the sacrifice of fools, who consider not that they do evil. The pious Archbishop SHARP tells us, "Prayer ought to be the continual exercise of life; for it is to the soul, what meat and drink are to our bodies, their repast, their support, their nou- rishment. Prayer is the great universal instru- ment by which we fetch down blessings from above, and become possessed of whatever we 14 want. Prayer is our defence and preservative against sin, and against temptation. It is the wings of our souls, whereby \ve raise ourselves up above this lower world to tie God above, with whom, while we ttierein converse, we become the more transformed into his nature. Whatever anticipations of heaven there be on earth ; whatever foretastes we Christians have in these bodies, of the happiness of eternity, they are all heightened and improved by the means of prayer." Consider the necessity of being as active in your religious duties as in any other ; this is a matter of the highest moment. The laziness which occasionally invades a great part of man- kind, may happen sometimes to keep you so long in your bed, as to create hurry and dissipa- tion of thought, by sudden calls to your duty, which may prevent your morning prayers ; and you will set about your business without having offered up your devotion to the Almighty. When this is the case, as soon as you can recollect, repair the fault immediately in the best manner you can. We may pray in thought, nay even in words, without acquainting the world what we are about. If, after recollecting, you decline doing your duty, and any evil should befal you during the day, you will suffer this double self- reproach, that you first omitted your duty, and then increased your guilt by neglecting to ask 15 for the protection of heaven ; you suffered busi- ness, or some trifling object of amusement, to possess your mind, in preference to the God who made you. And if no distinguished misfortune should happen to you on that day, you will be the more subject to the omission on another day, and accumulate your guilt, and your sins to be repented of. Nothing is more true in general, than, the omission of good is the commission of evil, and it is true in this instance. Be therefore sure of your morning prayer, and rise early that you be not interrupted in this duty. Habit will soon render it familiar, and you will receive some part of your reward in the benefits of early rising, which I need not tell you who are accustomed to it. There is most respect, decency, and propriety in praying on our knees. Prayers in bed are usually called ejaculations, as when we are just falling into the arms of the death of sleep, or rising again as it were from the grave, when we awake. Make as sure of your evening prayer as of your bodily rest, without which you would die. My master once told me, that it is a proverb among the Hollanders, who are a busy nation, that " no one ever loses any time by praying, or is the poorer for giving alms." The first part is very obvious, and the last may be easily recon- ciled where prudence is exercised. 16 Among various excuses for negligence, you will hear some silly mortals plead want of time. This is as false in fact, as it is absurd in opinion ; for, if you should be interrupted in falling on your knees in secret, pray, as I have just men- tioned, secretly, as you sit, or walk, or stand, or work. But at all times when you pray, col- lect your thoughts, that your heart may keep pace with your tongue. This is as essential a duty as it is to pray at all; and for the same reason short prayers are pre- ferable to long ones. Our prayers are our true and faithful friends, who will never forsake us. They are our guar- dian angels. We may enjoy the happiness and advantage of their company in a palace or a dun- geon; and without their aid we cannot have the least security that we shall be constant to God, live like believers in him, or be obedient to the laws of Christ. If you do not seek for the mercy of God, you cannot expect to find it. You are commanded to seek, and promised that you shall find, if you do seek ; but not whether you seek or no. Consider, my dear MARY, the state of human life, and the dangers which surround you, and all the children of men. We are all subject, every, day and every hour, to pain and sorrow, sickness and death ; and should live prepared for whatever a day may bring forth. We are sub- 17 ject to a greater evil than the certainty of death ; we are subject to sin, and therefore must take heed, whilst we think we stand, that we do not fall. You are sure that life must end in a few uncertain years. It is impossible, being in your right mind, that you should not be anxious for the event ; what is to become of you through the numberless ages of eternity? We are all persuaded that we have souls, and believe they will be saved, or must perish. We are continually in hope or fear of something ; and for the same reason that we believe in a state of rewards and punishments after death, our fears and hopes ex- tend to objects beyond the grave. Every one knows this, who is not stupid : what then can you do, to take out the sting of your fears, and to render your hopes not only comfortable but joyful ? What can you do, but apply with all your heart and understanding, with all your mind and all your strength, to God, beseeching him that he will shew you the paths in which you ought to walk ; and moreover by comparing to- gether your own character, and the terms on which salvation is promised in the gospel, endea- vour earnestly so to conduct yourself as to come within those terms, or, in the apostle's language, " to secure to yourself a good foundation," and " to lay hold on eternal life." And, indeed, what is religion (of which prayer is one of the highest acts) but the knowledge of 18 the most excellent truths, the contemplation of the most glorious objects, the hope of the most ravishing pleasures, and the practice of such duties as are most conducive to our happiness ? Be well assured, MARY, and I think you have tried the experiment, that your inclination to serve God faithfully in your thoughts, words and actions, and your power of doing it will increase in proportion as you rightly perform the duty of prayer. On the other hand, if you should for- sake the paths of virtue, you will as certainly cease to look up to God, and your inclination to all goodness will daily decrease: of this I have known numberless sad and deplorable instances. Heaven preserve thee, my daughter ! DISCOURSE IV. MANY of us are apt to fall into a fault which seems to proceed from a right principle, though not rightly understood. Reserve is in no instance more proper than with regard to prayer; yet it is equally true, that a false reserve oftentimes betrays the cause of devotion. .When people are afraid or ashamed of doing what is right, they are in the more danger of being led to do wrong. There is a kind of resolution so essentially neces- sary to religion, that it can hardly exist without it. We must be firm on all occasions in doing our duty, considering it is an unchangeable obli- gation incumbent on all the children of men. You have heard of women, who, in the first ages of Christianity, exposed themselves to flames and tortures rather than give up their integrity, and this with as constant and intrepid mind as the bravest man that ever lived. There is nothing great without constancy ; and it is our duty to possess our minds with such resolution, that as no fear of pain should affright, so no temptation to pleasure should entice us from our duty. And without this habit of firmness and resolution, we shall never be able to withstand the many temp- tations to do what is wrong, or to neglect what is right, that we shall meet with from the false maxims and mistaken opinions that prevail in the world. We are commanded, it is true, by our great Lord and Master, to pray in secret, that we may not be seen of men ; that is, not to seek the praise of men as the Pharisees did. You remem- ber our Saviour expressly mentions the gross hypocrisy of those people in his time. However, do not turn away from the meaning of your divine teacher, and act as if you were ashamed of being found on your knees. The consequence of childish fear in this instance is, that many get into an habitual neglect, and do not pray at all. If two 20 persons meet together, both well inclined, and both timorous, or prejudiced to this opinion, they will both decline doing their duty; and. what a ridiculous, and at the same time tragical, figure will they make ! If they come to the point of never praying but at church, can it be expected they will really be attentive to their prayers when they are there? And can they pray at church without being seen? Custom makes it familiar to us to avoid all human eyes in private, but resolution and attention to the great business of devotion should render us superior to all inter- ruption or surprise when" we are praying. Your poor mother, good as she was, yet it was a long time before she surmounted that false modesty in which she was bred, which made it seem criminal in her eyes to be seen on her knees ; but I happily convinced her that it was our mutual security not to neglect the duty of prayer, and that as we retired to rest, and rose at the same hour, so we should likewise offer up the incense of our prayers with one heart and mind. You are sensible that, in order to fix any object on the mind, we must think, or read, or discourse about it. The two last include the first; but there is a peculiar charm in the conversation of sensible pious friends; we are sure of their heart. My master used to say, that according to the Persian proverb, " the conversation of a friend, 21 brightens the eyes" The familiar discourse of a virtuous friend is pleasing and advantageous ; but of all conversations, that is the most inter- esting which leads us into the path of ever- lasting happiness. Such as this can hardly come from any but the good and wise : those only de- serve the name of friends who are true to their own hearts, and confess the power of religion ; persons of a different turn can only do us kind- nesses, and be agreeable companions. If you would be wise, you must sometimes submit to be thought foolish. The first thing a wise man considers is the end of his being, the next how he shall attain that end ; and you may be well as- sured, whatever tends to promote the cause of true religion goes so far in the attainment of the true end of life, and exalts human nature. Yet, alas! MARY, whether it be amongst us or the great vulgar ; whether it be from fear of the im- putation of ostentation, or hypocrisy, or to avoid any other thing which the world least applauds, I do not find that it is a custom or fashion among the gentry to say any thing at all about devotion, neither as it relates to themselves nor their ser- vants. Some of the truly zealous, and some of the enthusiastic part of us talk of it occasionally ; but for want of distinguishing true zeal from enthusiasm, which is as different as light from darkness, most people are apt to draw one com- mon conclusion, namely, that those who speak of 22 piety are not pious, in the sense that piety is allowed to be amiable, good and praise- worthy. My master used sometimes to give his sentiments in company, in a rational and familiar manner, like a man and a Christian, as I thought ; but I am sorry to tell thee, MARY, his acquaintance, who were otherwise sober people, were generally as silent as the grave, as if it were a matter of no moment to them, or that they were totally inca- pable of uttering a single word on the subject with any propriety. In your tender years, you listened to my dis- course, as if you meant to engrave every word on your heart ; and when you prayed, you looked up to heaven, seeming to feel the force of your words, and to mean what you said. Cherish this custom, and hold it nearest to your heart. You have sometimes seen your mother on her knees, with streaming eyes, entreating the Almighty to pity your poverty and your sex, and shield your person from the merciless hands of the vile de- stroyers of female innocence. You are now come to years of discretion, and know your own dan- ger; therefore you must consider your own prayers as your surest guard : and if you pray to your heavenly Father with real devotion, (let the world go as it may,) he who heareth in secret will reward you openly. Among the various helps of performing the duty of prayer, I reckon it one of the greatest to 23 utter words slowly and solemnly, weighing their sense and meaning. Whether it be comfort or advantage, it must arise from a close attention to the object to whom you address your prayers. Your attention must be kept awake, that you may neither tire nor wander in thought. These infirmities are much alike, and human nature is much addicted to them. The more you perceive either of them, the more watchful you should be of yourself, and accommodate your prayers to your real powers of mind ; at the same time, do not deceive yourself, and under a fond notion of an unavoidable defect, in this particular, be- come habitually negligent. Our hearts are more treacherous than we are apt to imagine. It is certain that a multitude of words' will not avail ; but if you are indolent, cold, and unwilling to pray, you may think a few words are too many. In such circumstances you cannot be said to offer up your heart to God be your words ever so few. A consciousness of the weakness of our nature, respecting our inability to expand the wings of our devotion beyond a certain measure, naturally creates such an humiliation of heart, as is one of the essential requisites of piety, and constitutes a chief part of it. Family prayer is another means to help us in this duty of devotion. This seems to be a mutual security to every one in the fa- mily, that they shall say their prayers at certain 24 times, whether it be once or twice in a day. If such prayer is properly repeated, it will rouse the powers of the mind, and conquer that cold- ness, and unwillingness which is so apt to seize the heart in this instance, if we do not keep a strict watch over it. But such family prayer is so much out of fashion, that you will rarely find it I fear that servants receive but little benefit from their master or mistress in this instance. They think it enough that they have the proper authority over us as their servants, and expect from us strict justice and fidelity ; yet they sel- dom go so far as to inform themselves where the servant learnt to be just and faithful. The only solid security for justice or fidelity is founded in religion. But if every master supposes his pre- decessor performed his duty, young men and women, not duly taught by their parents, will be left to act at a hazard ; and thus it happens that many servants have little or no sense of moral or religious obligations. So that you see, then, this great business de- pends generally on yourself. Women are justly- called the devout sex ; and they are most distin- guished for piety, as well as for the duties of domestic life ; yet from a false delicacy, in which religion hath no share, 1 have observed that some ladies have thought themselves absolved from all demands relative to family prayer, because they 25 were not married ; and yet I do not remember to have met a single word in the New Testament which makes any such distinction ; on the con- trary, some passages suppose single persons most at liberty to promote the exercise of such reli- gious duties, those wh6 are married being obliged to obey their husbands. You see that people never want reasons, such as they may be, for doing whatever they like, or for letting alone what is not agreeable to them, and for being inattentive to their eternal obligation of wor- shiping God under their own roof. In the comparative view of private and pubKc prayer, you ought to consider, that although it is the custom of the world to follow example, ra- ther than precept or instruction, it would be much safer in most cases to follow instruction. It is an indispensable duty to worship God in public ; those who go to church merely from custom and decency, have seldom much incli- nation for devotion, public or private; and the same authority which requires public worship, requires private also. " The prayer of the humble pierceth the clouds, and till he come nigh he will not be comforted." This is not said of public or private devotion, for it is supposed that the same warmth and sincerity accompanies both. To pierce the clouds with our prayers, is a very strong and beautiful expression ; and it certainly must 26 be the importunity of our supplications, when they come from the heart, directed by the under- standing, and attended with fervency and zeal, which alone can be supposed to reach the ears of the Almighty, or afford comfort or joy to the mind of man. Amidst all the bustle of the world, I consider that person as the happiest of the chil- dren of men, whose addresses to God are the most acceptable. ; If you fear God, you will be led to respect the preachers of the gospel. The wise man considers it as a trial whether we love God or not, by our feverencing or forsaking his faithful ministers. And indeed it was natural for a wise man to draw this conclusion, because in common life, in pro- portion as we love the master, we shew a proper regard to his servants. You and I now stand before the everlasting Father and Sovereign of the universe, on a great and solemn occasion; very great to ourselves, however insignificant to the world. As a father, I command you ; as a friend, I entreat you, to pray constantly and uniformly every morning and evening. Be assured, my dear daughter, it is the *neans which will bring you a blessing and suc- cess in life, and without it you may easily stab my peace, and bring these grey locks with sorrow to the grave. If you pursue my maxims, and obey my precepts, though we should be visited 27 by the cold hand of adversity, yet our lives may be comfortable, and death, when heaven shall call us hence, will open a passage to a joyful'j'and glorious eternity. DISCOURSE V. ADDED to the arguments already urged in favour of the duty of prayer, I must not omit to- mention the example of Christ; and you know, MARY, what I have often told you, that your having been baptized merely, will not entitle you to the glorious promises of the gospel; you must obey the commands of Christ, and in self-govern- ment, piety to God, and benevolence to your fellow-creatures, you must endeavour to imitate his example. In the history of his life, we read often of his retiring to prayer. Luke v. 10. xi. 1. This was that mighty prince, who made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, not with the splendid show of an earthly prince, to please the fancies of men with a tinsel-glitter, but to fill the heart with joy, even to the hopes of heaven and happiness immortal. They shouted " Hosannah to the Son of David. Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord /"-^Blessed indeed was he c *_ w 3d to whom God had given power to open the eyes of the blind, who enabled the dumb to sing, and the lame to dance for joy. Yet such was the fatal blindness and perverse disposition of the rulers of the Jews, that they condemned this glo- rious prince of peace to die upon the cross. And what heart can conceive, or what tongue can utter the dreadful scene then represented on the theatre of the world ? This mighty prince and redeemer, this divine saviour was buffeted, mocked and spurned. He was dragged to execution like a felon, and nailed on the cross. There his heart heaved with agony of pain, and not less with pity; for he cried to God, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do ! He then inclined his head, and expired. You remember, MARY, what you have read in the New Testament, upon this sobject ; the earth trembled, the veil of the temple was rent, the rocks burst, many of the dead arose and appeared before men's eyes, all nature seemed for a time to be convulsed, and, as it were, expiring with the Son of God. But what was the consequence of this unparal- leled obstinacy and wickedness of the Jews, who were the voluntary instruments of this act of cruelty and injustice? Their famous city of Jerusalem, and their holy temple, which was of such immense value, were, forty years after, de- stroyed by the Romans. Jerusalem is now in the hands of the Turks, and of very little moment, though once the pride of the whole earth. And as to the Jews themselves, their state was de- stroyed, and the people dispersed over the earth ; and now for near seventeen hundred years, the Almighty hath not permitted them to collect themselves into a body, or form a government, being scattered in Christian, mahometan and pagan countries ; manifesting to the whole earth the truth of the gospel of Christ. You see some of their descendants, who live among us, they main- tain to this day their particular customs and manners ; they neither keep the same sabbath day, nor eat the flesh of animals killed after the same manner as ours. They do not mix with the world as soldiers, seamen, or husbandmen ; they intermarry only among themselves : in a word, they etand as monuments to remind us of this great event, though themselves are unbelievers, and still look for that very Messiah whom their forefathers crucified, as you declare in your belief. There are some of our condition, MARY, so little instructed in relation to prayer, that they do not distinguish the belief, or declaration of what they believe, from an address or prayer to the Almighty. There is indeed this likeness, that both are of a very serious and solemn na- ture, and require a very close attention to the sense of every word, that sufficient time be given for recollection and assent of mind to the full 30 meaning of them. This is the first step toward* religion ; the second is the knowledge of the commandments of God ; -the next thing is a firm and steady resolution of obedience to such com- mandments ; and lastly, our prayers being added, imploring the divine assistance, these obvious and plain operations of the mind mutually aid and support each other, and employ their joint forces to combat sin and triumph over the world. As you believe the resurrection of the dead, and the life everlasting, and that Christ is ap- pointed to judge the living and the dead, he will certainly judge you, and he will as certainly pardon or condemn you. If you shall have ear- nestly endeavoured to live according to your belief, and agreeably to the commandment of God, and the precepts of the gospel, you will be happy for ever ! really, truly, and substantially happy in the endless ages of eternity ! If you have not so lived, and die impenitent, we have the same authority to believe you will perish everlastingly ! And now, before we leave this subject, I must observe to you that it is trifling to talk of the religion of Christ, and to pretend to be one of his followers, and not to remember him in whatever he hath commanded. I have much reason to fear there are many who live and die without receiving the Scicrium-nt 31 of the Lord's supper. Some begin very late in life to receive it, and others leave it off very early. This negligence arises from very wicked or very foolish reasons, or no reasons at all. People stand in awe of this solemnity, as of a very good thing; but do not partake of it, be- cause they think themselves not good enough; and they act as if they were determined to be no better, or as if they did not think this could be any means to make them better, though it is required by Christ himself. If I was to invite my neighbour to sup with me, and he excused himself because he was not in a cleanly condition, would you not be asto- nished that he did not set about washing himself? But supposing that 1 were to furnish him with the requisites for making himself clean, might I not suspect that he was not heartily inclined to my friendship, and sought for reasons to excuse himself ? There is no miracle in the effects of this holy ordinance ; it neither saves nor destroys, but as it operates on the hearts, lives and manners of men like other religious duties. Our Lord and Master, in whom we profess to trust, invites us to his supper; as upon another occasion, he says, " Come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you." And do you think you can go to him, in 32 true sincerity of heart, and not find refreshment ? He directs us, on this occasion, the most solemn the world ever knew, to go. He, the Son of God, was going to suffer a cruel and ignominious death, and commanded us to do this in remem- brance of him ; and do you think, while memory holds a place in your brain, you should forget him ? He tells us why we should do this, and how it is to be done. He bids us receive the bread and wine in remembrance of his death and sufferings, of his body pierced and blood spilt, as a token of his wonderful love towards us ; and requires this mernoriai to be continued through every generation, until his coming again in any person in his right mind refuse sud| an invitation from the greatest and best friend jn the world, upon, so vast and important an occasion? Can apy one decline coming to this heavenly entertainment, without a neglect, vyhich is an affront to so great a Lord of so great feast? And if we consider the command, as from the great Captain of our salvation, is not our refusal to obey it of the same nature as a soldier's defence, when he disobeys his com- mander ? As to the intention of this ordinance, you may consider it in these several views : 1. It is to fix and imprint on your mind, in a 33 manner the most lasting, the remembrance of the death of Christ, as the strongest motive to your obedience. 2. It is a commemoration of his death, in a humble acknowledgment of its being the ground of your hope of eternal life. 3. It is a public declaration to the world of your faith in him, and that you on your part will endeavour to become holy as he was holy, and to continue down the memory of his love to all ge- nerations. 4. It is a high expression of your thanks and gratitude to God for his unspeakable mercy in sending his Son into the world for the redemp- tion of mankind from sin and death. 5. It is a confirmation, on your part, of the covenant which God hath made with us, and a thankful acceptance of those conditions vf pardon which he has offered, and whereby we acknow- ledge and renew our obligations to obey him. Now of all commands, it is natural to lay the greatest stress upon those which are given us by our friends a little before their death, especially if we really love them, and they particularly de- sire it to be done in remembrance of them. Let us suppose that the lady whom you are now going to serve, by an astonishing mark of her love and compassion for you, should preserve your life; suppose she should not only snatch you from the grave, but die herself in the attempt ; c 3 34 suppose likewise that she were to leave you a creditable maintenance upon the condition of your doing some particular act easily performed; would you not do it? Would not your neglect appear the blackest ingratitude, whilst your folly would be the derision of children, for you would lose your support by a negligence which would plunge you into poverty, and give you the character of a mad woman or an idiot ? And yet, alas ! what could she or any mortal do for you or any other? She might save your life for a few days or years, and render that life comfortable whilst it lasted ; but here all her kindness must end. As to the matter which frightens some, it stands thus : St. Paul reminds us that as we have houses to eat and drink in, we should not come to the house of God, and to the Lord's supper, not distinguishing a solemn act of religion from a common meal, which was the crime of some of the Corinthians. Well might he tell them this was eating and drinking their own condemnation, which he interprets by saying that God would be provoked to inflict several kinds of judgments upon them, if they continued to act so wicked a part. But what is this to the purpose of those childish and fantastical fears which a great part of us entertain in relation to the celebration of this act of devotion ? Solemn indeed it is, but when we fall down on our 'knees before God, or send up our hearts to him in prayer, is not this 35 also a solemn and awful duty ? As well may we say that we will never pray because it requires thought and seriousness, as that we will not receive the sacrament, for fear of offending God. Believing it to be the command of Christ, we offend God most surely by not receiving it; and if we are to come to the table of our Lord in charity with men, with an intention to lead a new life, do we not do just the same thing when we pray ? If not, we are guilty of mockery ; for we implore the mercies of heaven (as I have already observed), upon the very terms and condition of forgiving others, (which is far from being a hard task). And as we always mean to repent, we mean to amend ; and what is this but leading a new life ? Let people then look into the Lord's prayer, and it will stare them in the face ; they will be, astonished how they could live so long in neglect of the sacrament, for such a reason, and yet say this prayer once or twice every day of their lives! In regard to the frequency of receiving the sacrament, there is no time exactly pointed out. The doing it frequently seems to be implied by the words of our Saviour, " Do this as often as ye drink it in remembrance of me." For my own part I see not how any Christian can decently turn his back on the Lord's table. If you would maintain and keep yourself in a 36 constant general preparation for the holy com* munion, so as always to be fit upon the shortest notice to partake of it, (that is, if you would fealty endeavour to be a Christian,) be careful in the- observation of these following rules : 1. Be diligent in your endeavours to know and understand the several parts of your duty to God, to men, and to yourself, for which end you must be careful to make the best use you can of those means of instruction and knowledge which God has put into your power ; such as reading the holy Scriptures, and other good books, or hearing them read, attending upon the public offices of preaching, catechizing, and the like.* S. You must upon all occasions be industrious and zealous in avoiding every sin, and to practise and perform every duty according to your ability and opportunity for the same, t 3. You must very often think and meditate upon your ways, and all your particular practices, and examine whether or no they are agreeable to the rules of your duty; that whatever you find you have been deficient in, or done amiss, you may take the better care to rectify and amend, for the time to come. $ For which end and purpose, this following easy but very profitable task is recommended : namely, * Prov. iv. 5. John v. 30. 2 Tina. iii. 15. John xiii. 17. t Titus ii. 11 14. Matt. vii. 21. Luke xii. 47- Psalm iv. 4. and cxix. 59. Lam. iii. 40. 37 two or three times in the course of each day to carry your thoughts back, and consider what you have been thinking or doing, and how you have spent your time. As for example, ask yourself, When first I awaked, did I think upon God, and recommend myself to his almighty care and protection ? Did not worldly or sinful thoughts first take possession of my heart ? I was lately in such and such company ; how and after what manner did I behave myself; were all my words and actions innocent, modest and fitting ? Did I give no offence to God, or scandal 4x> the world, by any thing which I either said or did on that occasion ? &c. Such questions as these, if you would con- stantly and seriously put home to your conscience, while things remain fresh in your memory, what a mighty influence would they have upon you, to restrain you from evil, and to excite you to do that which is good with joy and pleasure ? And as to particular preparation, I. Whenever notice is given of the celebration of the holy communion, immediately resolve by no means to miss that opportunity of commemo- rating the sufferings of your blessed Lord and Saviour. But if you are careful every day, as you ought to be, to live as becomes a Christian, you will not need any other preparation. I would recommend to you, however, to re- member that the whole duty of a Christian is 38 reducible to three heads ;* and every time you receive the holy communion, you will do well to put, at least, these three questions seriously home to your conscience : 1. Do I effectually shew my love to God, by a due honour and respect to him in all my thoughts, words and actions? 2. Have I a true and sincere love for myself : that is, do I love my soul better than my body ? And am I more heartily concerned to secure my everlasting happiness in the world to come, than to compass my pleasure or profit in this life ? 3. Have I a real and sincere love for all man- kind, without exception ? And do I avoid hurting any person by word or deed where I can possibly avoid it ? And am I ready to do good to every one whatsoever, wherever I have ability and opportunity ? If you meditate on these three questions se- riously for a little time, there is scarcely any sin that you have been guilty of but it will occur to you. 4. When by the examination of your con- science you have set your sins in your view, and have seen what your particular deviations have been, then make your humble confession to Almighty God, and implore his assistance to enable you for the future to be more obedient to his commands, and to live more like the dis- * Matt. xxii. 37, &c. 39 ciple of the Master by whose holy name you are called. In respect to your behaviour at the holy com- munion, 1. Strive, as at all other times in the worship of God, as much as you can to keep your mind intent and fixed upon what you are about; and lay aside not only all vain thoughts, but likewise all such as are impertinent to the present busi- ness. 2. Take care to behave yourself with such out- ward decency and cornposedness as may be a sufficient token of that inward devotion and reve- rence which you bear in your heart, without gazing about, or any way unnecessarily moving your body, or whispering to any one that is near you, or doing any thing of the like nature. 3. While the service is performing, join all along with the minister and congregation, with your heart and thoughts lifted up to God. 4. Take care, likewise, to avoid all affectation, and not to behave yourself in such a manner as if you had a mind to be taken notice of for a person of extraordinary devotion. For which reason, whatever private prayers or meditations you may have to offer to God, put them up in your thoughts alone, or let not your voice be heard. While the bread and wine are distributing, 40 employ yourself with such meditation* and prayers as these : 1. Bethink yourself what those sins are to which you have been most inclined ; and, in the presence of God, seriously and stedfastly renew your resolutions of being careful to abstain from them for the time to come. 2. Consider what opportunities you ordinarily have for the doing of any good works, and sted- fastly purpose to be diligent hereafter in making use of them. 3. To this add the following prayer : " Merciful God, assist me with the help of thy holy Spirit, that I may always keep those vows and good resolutions which thou hast ena- bled me to make ; that I may never return to any of my former sins, but hereafter serve thee faithfully in the constant practice of virtue and religion, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 4. And here express your charity, by putting up a prayer for all mankind in this or the like form : " Lord, if it be thy gracious will, extend thy mercy and compassion unto all mankind. En- lighten the minds of those that are ignorant, and move the wills of those that are obstinate, that they all may receive thy holy truth, and carefully live in the practice of it. Pardon my enemies, O God, and bring them aad all of us throughout the whole world, to true repentance, that we may all Jive righteously here, and, in the end, be happy with thee hereafter, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 5. Then employ yourself with reading and meditating upon some select portions of the holy Scripture, until such time as the minister is ready to proceed with the public office. I need not here transcribe any particular texts, but will leave you to make choice of such as are most agreeable to you. If you should be at a loss, read the hundred and nineteenth psalm, where you will easily find proper matter enough to employ your devoutest thoughts upon this oc- casion. 6. When the service is ended and the congre- gation dismissed, depart to your home or place of abode, and as soon as you have a convenient opportunity of retiring into some private place, first look back, and consider whether or no, in the performance of this holy office, you have behaved yourself in all things as you ought to have done ; and if you find that you have been any way short or defective therein, resolve to take better care for the time to come. 7. And then conclude with this or the like prayer : " Lord, I desire to return my most humble and hearty thanks to thee, for all thy blessings both spiritual and temporal, which thou hast 4-2 vouchsafed to me. At this time, particularly, I praise and bless thy holy name, for the oppor- tunity which thou hast this day given me, of commemorating the sufferings and death of my blessed Redeemer, and also participating in that holy ordinance which he has appointed. Lord, pardon all the weaknesses and defects in the performance of my duty. And I beseech thee assist me with thy grace, that in the whole course of my life I may ever be careful to fulfil and per- form those resolutions which I have made of obeying thee better for all time to come, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." Moreover, endeavour, as the occasion arises, to call to tnind what you have thought, and said, and done, before and after the holy communion; and beg God to assist you, that you may remem- ber your Saviour with constant gratitude. And, that it may constantly restrain you from all manner of wickedness, upon the assault of any temptation, thus bethink yourself: " At such a time I received the holy communion, and then I seriously resolved, and solemnly pro- mised to Almighty God, that I would heartily endeavour, in all points, to live like a Christian. Shall I then, upon any account, lie, curse, swear, talk profanely or obscenely, commit any sin of uncleanness, steal, cheat, or do or think any manner of wickedness ? No ; God forbid ! I have en- gaged myself to God to amend my life, and to bt 43 another sort of person. And what can I expect, but wrath and indignation from him, if knovv- jngly or wilfully I should violate my duty and those promises which I so deliberately and stedfastly made to him ?" You have received the communion more than once : go on. I know too well, that servants are generally extremely neglectful of this duty. If it should be the case with your fellow-servants, I charge you, as you love the name of Christ, and desire to become his true disciple, that you do not follow their example, but strive to induce them to follow yours, in frequenting this holy ordinance, calculated to promote their present and future happiness. And in regard to yourself, tell them what your father said to you at parting. Remind them of the gross absurdity of supposing themselves wiser than the wisest, or more pru- dent than the soberest or best of mankind : let them consider if the high imprudence, the great folly, the gross iniquity, and the destruction which awaits the despisers of religion, be better for them than peace, and confidence in the mercies of God, and hope of everlasting joy. Remind them that they are as answerable to God for their neglect, as other Christians of the first rank and condition. They have actually fewer temptations than people who are rich ; and though they know less, they know so much that ignorance cannot be admitted as a plea. 44 If your companions should not be awed by your seriousness in this matter, but deride you as a young saint, you are not to reproach them, as if they were the contrary to young saints, but be patient, and go on unchanged in the way you are persuaded is right; and mourn over their foolishness and obstinacy, who perhaps would shut their eyes if all the terrors of destruction stood in array before them, and opened wide their tremendousjaws. Do your duty, I say, and still hope that others will do theirs. Thus you will approve yourself worthy, and, in good time, receive your reward. What can you do more than express your sorrow on this as on all other occasions, wherein men trangress and rebel against common sense, as well as the decrees of heaven ? DISCOURSE VI. You see, my dear MARY, how much I interest myself in your happiness. God knows what I shall be able to do for thee, in point of provision, after my death. Thou art a child of providence ; trust to it, using the means that providence hath pointed out. But above all 45 things let me caution thee never to expect solid, durable happiness from any thing this world can give. For my own part, I married the woman I loved beyond all others in the world. For a while, nothing seemed wanting to complete my hap- piness; and when you, my child, came into the world, my fancy represented to me that you would prove so good, I should have no reason to envy the greatest of mankind. Your mother became unhealthy : I sympathized in her pains and sor- rows; and all the beautiful structure of my happiness was thrown down, and blown away like the dust of which I am made. Soon after her death I lost my two little boys, your brothers. In my fancy they still hang round my neck, and their charming images live in my heart! Then fell my good old master! His last kind words still sound in my ears; it is true he made pro- vision for me ; but I loved and honoured him so much, that I suffered more anguish at his death, than joy in his liberality. Indeed his kindness but added to my grief. These sorrows (and some or other such all must expect) threw a cloud over my brightest days ! Such, however, has been the goodness of God, in Jesus Christ, that by enabling me to become in all things resigned to his will (who never afflicts his creatures but for their puriiication), I have, by degrees, attained suh a peaceful serenity of 46 niind, such a freedom from undue anxiety, as the world in its pursuits can never give. And, to a mind capable of enjoying it, does not every part of nature furnish matter for delight and gratitude ? The grass that grows in the fields; the leaves which shoot from the trees, and the fruit which they furnish ; the growth of every plant, and every animal, is full of wonder! Where wilt thou find the hand of art which can give the cowslips such a yellow, or to the violet such a blue? Hast thou considered how beauti- fully the rose is adorned, and how justly it is the emblem of the most captivating charms of female beauty ? Nor is the apple or the peach less grateful to the eye. Have not thy senses been often refreshed with the smell of new hay, and the sweet fragrance of herbs and flowers, and the blossoms of a thousand trees ? Nor is it only in the vegetable world : the bleating flock furnishes wool for the employment of many thousands, who again provide clothing for millions more. This makes me think myself of some importance; and, when I see yon ruddy Jass drawing streams of milk from the swelled udder of the useful cow, methinks I am the in- strument of heaven, in rearing the tender helpless infant, whilst the drooping grandfather blesses the hand that brings him milk. Survey the multitude of objects which Pro- vidence certainly intends for delight as well as 47 use. When I behold thee feeding my poultry ami my pigeons, I think, if a sparrow falleth not to the ground but by the knowledge and permission of the God of all, that he has honoured thee as the instrument of his bounty, in feeding these birds which are so useful to mankind. And if SOLOMON in all his glory was not arrayed like a lily of the field, what dost thou think of the natural beauty of the eye-set feathers of the strutting peacock, or the scarlet ornament of the prouder turkey? These are alike the work of thy hands, O God Supreme! O MARY, when thou hearest the early crowing of the cock, dost thou not think of him who calls thee to a vigilant and active life ? If thou considerest not what business thou hast on thy hand to-day, perhaps to-morrow ne'er will come. This bird is thy kind monitor. It is here we must enjoy the liberal feast that kind Providence hath provided : here every tree, and every bush furnishes something to the com- mon stock. We might live without great cities, but they could not subsist without husbandry. Nor do we barely live. See there the fragrant bean and pea in blossom ; do they not laugh and sing, and furnish pleasure as well as/bod , whilst the cheerful notes of birds on every tree fill the soul with gladness ? Is not this far beyond all the gay inventions of city entertainments, where health so often be- 48 comes a prey ; where fraud and enmity are so frequently concealed under the garb of friendship and pretended love ; and men, bewildering and bewildered, often seek happiness in paths which lead to misery? Alas! our vices here in the country are also too big to be overlooked. We are often vain and foolish ; but pride and folly seem more contagious in great cities, where thou wilt find numbers who know. not what to do with themselves, or have so little leisure from vain pursuits and empty joys, they hardly afford themselves time to think what course is best to steer to prevent intemperance and preserve their lives. They see not how rapidly life ebbs out in anxiety for things of no real value, whilst the great business of salvation grows heavy in pro- portion to their neglect of it. It is true, my days have been chiefly spent in the tumult and parade of great cities, where generally the worst as well as the best part of a nation are assembled, and where vice is much easier propagated than virtue. In spite of all the silken robes, or lighted tapers which I have seen, or the melodious music I have heard, I never had so many hours of true relish of life as I now nj<6y. Often have I lamented the fate of my good masters and their company. By meeting in such multitudes, they poison themselves: and in search of pleasure, and 1 the dissipation created by a crowd, ttoey at once rob themselves of two 49 of the choicest of blessings, pure air, and time for reflection. I do not mean to depreciate masters or servants, who are perhaps much wiser and better than myself: but in order to give thee right notions of a city life in great families, I will tell thee that I form my judgment from their real conduct. Wlren I was in service I had many oppor- tunities of making remarks : I often saw interest^ fancy, opinion, and above all, custom, govern so much, and reason so little, that I hardly believed some people were rational creatures. But let nothing dismay thee, my dear MARY! For although folly will never be put out of countenance whilst there are so many unwise people in the world, yet wisdom will always be justified of her true children. What is right and fit for us in our several stations in this world, considered as beings on our passage to eternity, will still be right and fit ; and the good will find such coun- tenance in the world, as is sufficient for their purpose. Thou, MARY, must take thy lot in the world. Gladly would I retain thee as my partner in these my toils and comforts, and lead thee through the dangerous paths of life, had it not pleased heaven to present so excellent a lady to thee for a mistress. I hope she will be a guide, a teacher, and a friend.- Alas, my dear MARY, there are not many such, nor many servants who know when 50 tliey are well off, or consider that state of servi- tude, wherein their morals and piety are most attended to, as the best place they can be in. Whichever way I turn my thoughts, I discover danger. Wert thou put out apprentice in some great city to an useful trade, with a view to a superior fortune, I know the world so well, thou lyouldjestbemore exposed than in a well-regulated private family. Think of the instruction thou hast received, and I trust thou wilt be safe. Use $ke means which God hath given thee, do thy duty, and he will be thy friend and thy defender. DISCOURSE VII. As Providence seems determined that we must part, let us improve every hour that remaineth, before the day comes, and hear me, O my daughter, with deep attention! Whether in sor- row or in joy, in good fortune or in bad, death ere long will separate us. Thou perchance wilt go to the land where all things are forgotten, before thou thinkest of it : I must go soon ! Let us both prepare for that journey, as the last thing which we shall have to do. I need not tell thee, 51 that even these transient minutes of our dis- course, which I pass with so much pleasure in thy company, bring us so much nearer to our end. In the great view of immortality, what ad- vantage can there be in living, but as we improve our time? Those days are lost, in which we do no good ; and worse than lost, in which we do evil. Whether alone, or in company, we must be provident of our time. We had better not live, than have bad thoughts, or spend our time in bad company. Those who seek for amuse- ments which are either foolish or wicked, with a view to what they call killing of time, Consider but little what a sad compliment they make to a guest, who, (hough we should court him with all the smiles of love, and all the tenderness and respect of friendship, is ever on the wing. There is no occasion to murder him to get quit of him. Yesterday is already dead ; to-morrow is not yet born ; and what have we then to expect to-day? And shall one poor day create such distress, to make us think of murdering our best friend ? How quickly fly the hours from morn till noon, and from noon till night ! And then we fall into the arms of sleep, which is the image of death ! How monstrous is it to treat with disrespect the best friend we have in the world ! This is the case with those who abuse time. Dear MARY, let me charge thee, as thou lovest 52 thy tender father, to remember how difficult it .is to be innocent, and at the same time idle. If thou seekest to he happy, be industrious. Is any thing more certain than that those who are pro- perly idle people, are more troubled and perplexed what to do with their time, than the industrious can possibly be, on account of the hardest labour they perform ? This is for the honour of industry. But it goes much further ; it proves the gracious design of Providence by putting the rich and poor more upon an equality than either of them gene- rally imagine. The poor fill up their time with work, such as is useful to themselves and the rest of mankind ; and the rich, such as are not industrious, nor employed in useful occupations, are perpetually laying out what to do with to- morrow, and continually labouring in thought by what means they shall fill up their time. They think they have a vast superfluity, because they cannot tell what to do with it. It is probable such will repent, as many a rich prodigal, who has squandered a large fortune and been reduced to poverty, hath done. Those who understand the value of time, treat it as prudent people do their money; instead of spending a great deal upon nothing that is useful, they make a little go a great way. It is the right use and application of time which not only makes life long, but renders it pleasant also, especially when we are brought to 53 delight in doing the will of God. What a shock- ing thing is it to hear people complain that their hours move heavily, when they should be working with their hands or performing some duty of charity, reading some pious or useful book, or doing something that will make them wiser and better than they were before! They are sure the hour will come when they would be glad to part with all the wealth in the world, were they possessed of it, in exchange for a single day. And this brings to my mind the history of a lady, once a great favourite of my master's, but on whom he could make no impression in the days of her health, who desired to see him when she fell dangerously ill. The interview affected him much, and he committed the conversation to writing. The lady in question had many amiable qualities, but she followed the train of fair triflers, and was devoted to others inferior to herself in understanding. She was sensible, af- fable and polite. Her frame was too tender to bear an incessant change every night from hot to cold ; and, like many others, she received her death's wound in a large assembly, which my master used to call a well-dressed mob. When this poor lady found herself in danger, her eyes were opened. She was not ignorant of my master's great partiality for her. She con- sidered him as her friend, and thought well of his opinion ; but, as a proof of her inconsistency, 54 she had not regarded it in practice. In this ex- tremity, she desired the favour of seeing him. Though much displeased with her conduct, he readily attended on the mournful occasion. After some compliments, she said, " You see me here in great danger of dying. You have been very good to me on many occasions. I am sensible of the sincerity with which you interested yourself in the most important concern of my life. Would to God I had taken your advice ! How dreadful is it to live and die in folly ! I am not indeed conscious of any thing which the world con- demns, but I now understand and feel what is meant by the world's being at enmity with God. How have I squandered away my time, as if I meant to give up the hopes of immortality for the plaything of a child ! Alas ! my much ho- noured friend, what pleasure can be found fit for an immortal mind, if immortality is not regarded? wisdom ! where was I when I should have sought thee ? The neglect of thy admonitions now aggravates my offences; why could I not discern the truth as well as you ? Or rather, why did I not practise what I knew ? I discerned the truth, but was so silly as to imagine (if I thought at all) that such as myself had a kind of privilege of exemption from the rules which you so earnestly recommended, and now how shall 1 be fit for that happiness to which I might once have attained ?. 55 " My guilt consisted in devoting my time to vain amusements and in neglecting the great business of eternity. And if it were even true that any one of these amusements, singly taken, might have been innocent, yet now I see clearly that to make them the business of my life was not innocent. I have shev\an a pernicious example of idleness and levity. O God, forgive me ! I have sought for happiness in places of public resort, but never found it. Had I sought his glory, who is the first and greatest object, he who is the merciful Father of mankind, I should now have been happy ! Alas ! how little did I think of that Saviour, whose example was so unlike toy practice ! I can scarcely persuade myself I seriously believed the terms on which he promised immortal happiness to his followers. Here I feel the sting; it pains me bitterly; how shall I extract the venom ? Tell me what I shall do. In what expressions shall I humble myself before God ? Where shall I seek a supply for my expiring lamp, or purchase the heavenly in- cense of a pious heart ? My time has winged its flight beyond the reach of mortal call. I have neglected constant, regular, fervent prayer. Tell me, I beseech you, how shall I, with such sins upon my head, now implore the mercy of heaven ?" O MARY, does not thy heart bleed at the recital ? And does it not convince thee of the 56 importance of those truths I have been pointing out? Those who. are much captivated with this world, or averse to the thoughts of parting with it, generally reckon upon years, when'they should reckon upon months or weeks, or peradventure upon days. They banish the thoughts of death, by considering him as an enemy, who will not come if he is not thought of: but this is far from being true. It often happens, when his mes- sengers, sickness or age, are at our doors, we do not seriously believe that he is coming. The reason of this I apprehend to be, that he takes such a variety of forms, we cannot well distin- guish till we feel his dart ; and therefore so many make this a reason for believing that he is always at a distance from them. In the ordinary course of things, green fruit often falls by a blast or violence, or the varipus accidents to which it is subject. This is the case of those who die in youth ; but as fruit that is ripened by time, and its proper season, must fall, so the aged must die. Death is the hus- bandman that gathers us all in. Perhaps it may administer to the establishment of thy virtue to know what I gathered from my master's books, confirmed by my observation when I was young. Dost thou apprehend that thy father is now trading on the last fifth part of his stock of life, as all men are who are past fifty ? * Thou seest me cheerful and in good spirits, but nature, the great agent of the Almighty, has sentenced me to death. I am one in four who are to die in five years, f It is true I do not know certainly within five years of my own death ; but this I know, that if I should live through five years, then a greater proportion than one in some other four must die, as it were, in my place. And what, think you, MARY, is your hazard ? Hear, and be not discomfited ! Your chance is nearly one in five to die in fifteen years ! J Look round thee ! See how swift the scythe of death mows down the children of men ! Figure to tliy- self the procession of human life ; observe the reality of what is passing before thine eyes; behold the rich and the poor, the wise and the foolish, the virtuous and the wicked, those who make much noise, and those who are never heard of beyond the circle of their acquaintance they all march on together to one common grave, which is always open, and never full. Thou, though yet so young, must, notwith- standing, have observed how quickly infants pass * Of 1000 born, 783 are dead by the age of 50, being- very near four in five, therefore only one remains. f From 55 to 60, 31 in 173 die, which is near one in four. J This is founded on 502 of 15 years old: of those, by the time they reached 30, 94 were dead, so that it comes to near one in five. D 3 into childhood, childhood into youth, youth into manhood, manhood into middle age ; this again into what we call advanced years, and from thence how soon we appear in old age! This progression of life, to people of observation, ap- pears amazingly quick. Thou hearest it from every one's mouth Good God, is it possible? It seems to be but yesterday that such an one was a child ! It is possible, for the fact is really so. The eldest, as well as the youngest of us, have designs and projects, hopes and expectations, which require time for the execution, perhaps beyond the chance of our continuance in life ; but in many cases this is necessary. The folly and madness is to live in sin, and defer repentance at the very moment that we see some one of our acquaintance drop almost every day, at every age, and knowing as we do, that our knell must toll ere long. What bustle do we make about life, and how often forget the end and design of it ! It appears but a small object, a mere sun-beam, playing in the air, disappearing as the light withdraws, to those who consider its duration in respect of eternity, though it may indeed appear consider- able to those who are uot accustomed to extend their thoughts beyond it, for these have no other happiness in prospect. Every distinct person flatters himself that he 59 shall not be of the number of those who die early. Providence is indulgent to tts ; for though every- day brings us nearer to our end, death never seems near: the hour befog concealed from us, we enjoy this turn of mind, and suffer no fruit- less pain, O God, how manifest is thy mercy and goodness, in all thy condnct towards man ! Think of it, MARY, and adore him with a grate- ful heart. Whether thou shah die young, or live to old age, remember " that honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that which is measured by number of years, but wisdom is gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age." The wise man means that wisdom which will teach thee to remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, and to apply thy heart so diligently to please him, that he may receive thee into everlasting joy. Let us be careful so to conduct ourselves, that we may not be disinherited for disobedience. Learn from such considerations how highly valu- able thou art to thyself. The great opportunity of improving in knowledge will be after this life ; but the only opportunity of fitting ourselves for that blessedness is now. This is the seed- time; that is the harvest. If thou takest care to improve this, thou art sufficiently secure of the other; but if this be neglected, all is lost. I have lived long, and wish that thou shouldst take advantage of my thoughts and experience ; and now is thy age of learning. In a variety of in- stances I feel and deplore how greatly I have erred ; but this good, at least, I hope I may have reaped from it, to bear with patience the many infirmities of others, being myself so very im- perfect. The longer I live, and the more I see of tht- world, its vanities and follies, the more I feel myself weaned from it ; and this will, I hope, be thy case when thou hast had the same expe- rience. In the mean time do thou endeavour to be every day more wise and more virtuous, and never tire in doing all the good that you can, in spite of the folly and ingratitude thou wilt meet with. And although 1 should never meet the perfection after which my mind aspires, yet it is my ambition, as I know it to be my duty and interest, to press forward " toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Jesus Christ" DISCOURSE VIII. I DID not finish yesterday all that I meant to say on the interesting subject we were upon. Thou wilt probably see me soon a lump of ina- nimate clay, and, with respect to this world, all 61 my thoughts perished. But thou hast the hap- piness of knowing, with full assurance, how God hath declared by the holy Scriptures that death shall open a passage to eternity ; a blessed eter- nity to the good, though to the wicked ever- lasting destruction. Those are hot Christians \vho do not believe in the promises made by Jesus Christ. Keep thine eye continually on the judgment to come, and thou wilt govern thy life by the rules of reason and religion. Think of the misery of not being able to look backward without shame, nor forward without terror. Think of that which will give thee comfort in the last extremity, for that last extremity will come, as surely as thou now livest. My prayer is, " Grant, O Father, and eternal God, that I may live the remainder of my days (whatever the number of them shall be) in thy fear, and to thy glory ; and let me die the death of the righteous ! Further, I implore thy favour and mercy to this my child, the choicest object thou hast been pleased to give me ! Grant that she may form her life and manners on this great principle, that holiness alone is acceptable in thy sight, and is therefore the su- preme good of mortals here below, in every station which thou hast assigned them. This petition I offer at thy throne, O God, in the name of thy Son Jesus Christ !" It may with the greatest reason be asked of (53 any one who trembles at the thought of death, or is enamoured with the love of life What is it that thou valuest life for? Is it for riches? These often make themselves wings, and oftener prove the more immediate causes of disease 'of hody and anguish of mind : they frequently create more cares than extreme poverty. Is it for honours? These fade at the frown of princes, and as often at the capricious applause of the people. Happily for such as you and I, evils of this kind cannot reach us. Is it for beauty ? This falls not to the lot of many, and often proves the parent of misfortune ; and it is *rue, even to a proverb, whatever good or evil it hath occa- sioned, it is but a flower that withers away. Is it health that enchanteth thee ? This is a blessing indeed, but it is subject to change, almost as the weather ; and the strength which attends it always abates as life draws to its close. Let it be the rule of thy life to make up thy accounts every night. Consider, my daughter, what thou hast said and done; nor let thy thoughts go unchastised. Thus wilt thou be able to state thy reckoning fairly; and, " if thy sins die before thee, thou wilt have nothing to do when death comes, but to die and fall asleep in peace." It is natural to hope for length of days, for a long life is surely a privilege, and when well im- proved is a great blessing. If the present life may aptly be compared to the seed-time, then 63 is a long life well spent the seed-time prolonged ; but to presume upon it, and to transgress any one of the laws of God in expectation that there will be time enough afterwards for repentance, is to trust our whole fortune on a bottom which had wrecked its millions, and is indeed the extreme of madness and folly. I have given thee many hints concerning death : I hope some of them at least will be of use to thee. I have often inquired how my friends and acquaintances went oft' the stage ; not how much they died worth, which is the usual question, but what sentiments they appeared to have. JONATHAN, whom thou rememberest, was an abandoned profligate wretch, and cared not into whose debt he ran, nor what dissension he lighted up, provided he could satisfy his wants, and gra- tify his appetite and his pride. He had not a silver tongue, yet he had so much wit and cunning in the art of making people believe he was in earnest, and so much resolution in the execution of his projects, and such skill in evading law, that he laughed at all the justices of the peace in the county. The wickedness of his mind shewed itself in a thousand evil deeds : when he died, he did not seem sensible that he must give any ac- count. O miserable condition ! Not so was RICHARD, though he had been guilty of many irregularities, and could not sa- tisfy his conscience on many accounts. I one 64 day asked him why he was so sad. I shall never forget his answer : he said, " The soul, my friend, is a most serious thing, and it must either be sad here for a moment, or he sad for ever!" I have reason to believe he die a penitent. PETEK was another of my acquaintance; he was a clever fallow, and fit for all manner of work ; he had lively parts, and was active and laborious in whatever he undertook: his great blemishes were inconstancy, disregard to truth, and the modern careless way of living. I saw him on his death-bed, and heard him say, " Good God, what have I been about, and ichere am I going?" From whence I hoped he was not devoid of sentiments of contrition. It was much the same with 'Squire WILLIAM. Indeed he discoursed with a reverend gentleman, concerning the immortality of the soul, and man's eternal state, and weeping said, " O my poor soul, whither wilt thou go ?" When his father came to visit him, he said, " Sir, your kindness hath undone me ; I abused the ample supply you gave me. Were I to live my time again, I icould feed on bread and water, rather than pamper my pas- sions, to hurry me into such monstrous excesses" Another gentleman, in this neighbourhood, who had been employed in many great offices for a number of years, in his last moments said, " After so many years' experience in business, noise and splendour, I think the greatest wisdom is- seriousness; the best physic, temperance; and the best estate a good conscience /" declaring that, were he to live over again the time he had spent in the world, he would exchange the court for retirement, and the palace for an hour's enjoy- ment of God in his public worship ; adding these words, " Now all things forsake me, except my God, my duty, and my prayer." I believe thou dost not remember NICHOLAS; he was a man who had maintained some cha- racter in the world, bul was much addicted to pleasure and sensual gratifications, forbidden by the law of Christ. He did not understand much of any such law, for he seldom went to church; and ttieu it seemed- to be rather to tind fault, than, in the spirit of humility, to receive instruction. He hardly ever looked into the A T e\v Testament; and I do not remember to have heard that he ever went to the Lord's supper. Upon the whole, it can with no propriety be said that he was a wise man : nor did it appear, when he died, that he had any faith in Christ, and consequently was not a Christian. Indeed he seemed much confused in thought, and said (as my other ac- quaintance, whom I have mentioned), Good God, where am I going? From whence you may judge that he believed in a God and a future state, though he seemed to have no solid foun- dation whereon to build his hopes or dispel his fears. This must ever be the case of those who (50 live in the contempt or neglect of the holy Scrip- tures and the commandments of Christ. I understood from Sir RALPH'S butler, a few months before his master died, that he desired the reverend minister to make extracts out of the sacred writings on the plainest and most exact way of making his peace with God, observing with a sigh, " How few men consider to what end they are born into the world, till they are near the time of leaving it.'" Sir RALPH had many virtues, but thou seest how inferably poor he was, with all his wealth, and how ignorant with all his learning. His intimate friend, the generous Sir GKORGE, with his last breath, spoke to his friends these memorable words, " Alas ! my friends, tht truest bequest I can make to you is, to entreat that you will govern your wills and affections by the will and word of God. I have lined in what is called the highest part of life, yet in me you may behold the end of this world, and all its vanities. I repent of all my life, but the part of it I spent in com- munion with God and doing good.'" The other day, when 1 went to see my acquain- tance PHILIP, thinking him on his death-bed, I asked him if he thought of God. I am shocked when I recollect his answer; he said, " it is not come to that yet" Still he flattered himself with a continuance in life; and being so much estranged from religion, he fondly imagined, on<- 07 Lord have mercy on me ! when his breath was departing from him, would be sufficient: and yet this man had often been advised by our worthy curate to amend his wicked and careless life, and read the Scriptures. When Mr. ABRAHAM inquired of the minister how he should proceed to make his peace with God, he gave this advice, " Read the New Tes- tament, there you will find the words of eternal life ; this book hath God for its author, salvation for its end, and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter." Thrice happy are those who read that book with care, and learn that divine charity which covereth the multitude of human infirmities. My cousin THOMAS, long before his death, often told me his opinion, that charity in its full meaning, and rightly understood, contained all Christian graces; he said, " Those who have not this divine principle have no good in them." His piety kept pace with his charity: I believe he died the death of the righteous. These last are striking proofs of the advantage of virtue. DISCOURSE IX. IN regard to thy sex, MARY, I cannot tell thee so much of them as of my own ; and perhaps there is not so much to tell of their difference of characters and difference of behaviour in their last hours. I believe the lives of women are comparatively more free from atrocious guilt; and that from a habit of obedience, they live more submissively to the decrees of heaven : perhaps, being less deeph engaged in views of avarice and ambition, and not subject to such a variety of temptations, they may be chiefly in danger from 'pride or vanity ; which, however, in their consequences, lead to hatred and envy, and many other vices extremely heinous, although, not being so conspicuous, they are mighty apt in every station to be overlooked, or not discovered, by the mind where they have gained the ascen- dancy. My cousin LUCY fell a sacrifice to the last of these. She was one among the many thousands who have some virtues blended with many faults ; she could not properly be called vicious, but she was very far from being virtuous ; in short, she did not act as if she remembered her end, and therefore could hardly avoid doing amiss. She seemed to delight only in mirth and festivity, 69 music, dancing, cards, public shows, Sec. Thus instead of improving her understanding, cor- recting her will, and becoming more attentive to admonition, and learning to be humble, devout and useful, she soon acquired the reputation of a giddy girl. In the same degree that she neg- lected these duties, they became tasteless and insipid, and she had no heart for them. Having forgotten wherein her highest excellency con- sisted, she could neither look back with any true satisfaction, nor forward with any joyful con- fidence. She thought very little of any thing but of the amusements of the present moment; and I cannot say she ever appeared to be much disturbed. Death at length surprised her; and surprised we all must be if we do not live as if the present day might be the last our eyes will ever visit. She went through the common cere- monies of physicians, nurses and friends, with as much decency as generally attends a death-bed, where the chief concern is to administer medi- cines to the body. God forbjd that 1 should sit in judgment on her; but neither could I ever find any solid foundation whereon to rest my hopes. She seemed to die as she had lived, in a state of insensibility. My master used to tell a story of a French lady, which always struck me as an instance of true generosity of spirit. Happening to be bled by a surgeon who entertained a secret passion for her, 70 the condition of the lady being much superior to his, upon uncovering her arm he was visibly con- fused. This was observed ; however, with great affability she desired him to go on with his work ; and he cut an artery, instead of opening a vein. He immediately discovered his mistake, and the lady was as soon sensible that she must die in consequence of it : but far from loading him with bitter reproaches, she saw with compassion the anguish of the unhappy man, and submitted to Providence. She went still further, for, thinking this event would injure bis reputation as a surgeon, she made a handsome provision for him in her will ; and died with that greatness of mind which a good understanding, supported by the noble sentiments of Christian piety and gene- rosity, inspires. Was not this great? Dost thou think thou shouldst have done the same, under the like circumstances ? With all their imperfections, women are called the devout sex ; and I have already remarked to thee, that there is nothing great and noble, even in martyrdom, wherein women have not been, in all ages, distinguished. * Why, my dear MARY, shouldst not thou be as ready to die for the glory of God and the welfare * Mrs. Askew, (among many others,) a single gentle- woman, aged 25, was cruelly persecuted, and at last suffered martyrdom, being burnt in Smithfield, in the reign of Henry VIII. She died praying for her murderers. 71 of thine own soul, as the greatest of the daughters of women ? Never shall I forget the manner of thy dear mother's death. She seemed perfectly reconciled, as if she was happily arrived at her journey's end, after travelling through the rough ways of penury, and weathering the storms of affliction. The truth is, she had lived an honest and a religious life, her mind was in peace, she was full of the hopes of the reward of the righte- ous, and she looked up to God with confidence in his mercy revealed to us by Jesus Christ ; she had constantly and stedfastly fixed her eye on a judgment to come, and this furnished her with such principles of action as can be learnt no other way. She had thought of death familiarly, and therefore she did not fear it. Indeed she was so truly pious and full of hope, that, to my imagination in those early days, she appeared to ascend the clouds in triumph. O ! my daughter, may thy death, whene'er it comes, be like hers ; I think thou wilt then most assuredly die the death of the righteous I Why do I wander back so many years, and set my wounds a-bleeding ? Thou, my child, art her image ! May thy vir- tues be like hers, that thou mayest at length shine as the stars of heaven ! Thou rememberest AMELIA. This was a young woman of the most excellent disposition : her modesty could be equalled by nothing but the gracefulness of her smiles, and the benignity of 72 her temper. Her dutifulness to her parents, and their judicious care and tenderness were become famous. She was never seen to be at a loss for employment, nor out of humour for any cross accident. Her own passions being always calm, she was a guide and monitor to all her acquain- tance. Unpractised in any art of falsehood or cunning, flattery or insinuation, by the resistless power of her discourse she commanded the affec- tions of all her acquaintance. She sung most sweetly ; but she was never tempted to wakes, or fairs, or kept any company but such as her parents recommended. Her winning softness was attended with a turn of mind, as serious as uncommon, and out of fashion. The sentiments she had committed to writing, which were found after her death, abundantly proved how justly she thought of her own dissolution, and how much her heart was devoted to her Maker. And as if heaven had marked her for its own, ere she had well seen twenty years, having filled up the measure of her virtue, she was called to the society of her kindred angels. O what a loss was sustained in her! Glad should I be, to speak so well of any man of my acquaintance, who, having died so young, was possessed of so much intrinsic worth ! Thou hast lately seen a fresh instance how precarious life is, and how it ought to be spent. I hope thou wilt remember it with thy expiring 73 breath. T.is but the other day, thy much-loved friend, and the companion of thy earliest days, AMELIA'S cousin, the sweet ELEANOR, took her flight also. Hardly to complete eighteen years, is young: though tialf who are born are dead by fifteen years, so many drop in infancy and childhood.* We cannot say this young woman lived not half her days; for she filled up the time that heaven had appointed for her. Her course of virtue was early run, and the great arbiter of life and death was pleased to call her to rest ! Travellers seldom complain that they come too soon at their journey's end ; and this young woman who died well, had surely lived long enough for herself; and as for the world in general, we must leave it in the hands of God. In the very blossom of ELEANOR'S life, her virtues were fragrant ! She was early at her duty, and as active as a bee; and the produce of her labour as sweet as honey : she was no less a mistress at her needle, than of what belonged to the dairy ; and industry was her pleasure and delight. In love .for her brothers and sisters, nobody excelled her. She was affable to every one, and always ready to plead the cause of pity and of peace : no one could be a truer advocate for misery and distress. When she had nothing else to give, her tears stood in her eyes ; but she * Of 1000 born, 498 are dead by the age of 15, 74 comforted herself by thinking that there is no affliction for which religion has not provided a remedy. She spoke of those whom she could not praise, with a tenderness that expressed her universal benevolence. She went to church constantly every sabbath-day, and read the Bible and Testament with such attention, as to under- stand what was necessary to her happiness in both worlds. At her leisure she read other good books, and as carefully avoided those dangerous stories which corrupt the heart, and pollute the fancy. Guarded against the extremes of melan- choly and carelessness, she possessed her soul in that happy cheerfulness and composure, which are the ordinary companions of innocence, and the best instructors how to die. In the gifts of nature she was not less happy ; being in temper sweet, in manners gentle, in conversation pleasing, and in voice melodious. Humility and the love of truth prevented her being given to affectation, for she had too much sense to be proud. With her sweetness of disposition, she had a large portion of courage, which she wisely thought necessary to the conduct of life ; well knowing, that nothing can embitter life so much as fear, nor any thing be more fantastic than false delicacy, as if women were not to be taught to die. She was sensible that nothing can conquer this un- manly passion, which is apt to shew itself in such various forms, but religion, and the exercise 75 of reason. With what glorious strength of mind and resignation did she speak of her own death ; shewing forth her confidence in the mercy of God, declared by Christ ! The same sentiments, and tranquillity of spirit, which rendered her life so amiable, attended her expiring breath. Thou knowest the manner of her death was truly desirable, and her life a glorious object of imitation. Dost thou weep, my dear MARY, at this detail ? Soft sorrows rather heal than wound the spirit ; and there can be no bitterness in thy grief. Thy tears bespeak thy tenderness ; but there are many reasons why thou shouldst wipe them, and be comforted. She hath happily escaped the dangers with which this life abounds. Calm and serene, she possessed the most peaceful purity, and un- mixed hope, and exchanged this world for one much better. Is not this a plentiful source of consolation; to think of being out of the reach of affliction ; and what is more, beyond the ^possibility of offending God ! Thou, my child, knowest not the dangerous smiles of a treacherous world. Comfort thyself ! " Tears will not water the lovely plant, to make it grow again. Sighs will not give her new breath ; nor canst thou furnish her with life and spirits by the waste of thine own." Complain not of the shortness of thy joy, nor let thy loss in her, turn to thy dis- v O Xj w 76' advantage. Be thankful to thy Maker that tliou enjoyedst it so long, and in thy sorrow forget not to pray, " Thy will, O God, be done!" " To her, virtue was gray hairs, and an unspotted life old age." Let the remembrance of her good qualities live in thine heart; and in proportion to thy love for her, let her still be thy friend and monitor. Think of her happiness ; and in that reflection, be happy thyself. Wipe thy tears ; and whilst thou ofterest up thy pious lamentation, let this instance of her well-spent life teach thee what is the design of God in giving breath to mortals ; and rather mourn for those who are living in sin, than for thy departed friend. It is a great unhappiness to deceive ourselves as to the probable distance of our death. Two of my acquaintance, lately dead, were both far gone in their disease, and deemed incurable : each thought the other would die very soon, and openly declared his opinion ; but neither seemed to imagine his own death near. Wise men correct their own faults by observing wherein others are defective : but with us, all things go by fashion ; and it is not the custom of our country to speak of the approach of death, or the state of the mind, not even in the most gentle terms. This is one reason why so many think so little about it, or have such confused thoughts on the subject. Instead of giving the 77 most assistance that is practicable to those who need it, we give the least that can be imagined, whether it be wanted or not. Were people of ability to talk the language of reason and religion upon these awful occasions, it would probably rouse the spirits of many a sick person, and make the approach of death less dreadful. If near relations were to endeavour by reading, prayer, or discourse, to inspire the dying person with courage to bear pain and death, the living would learn the better how to die. The approach of death, like other dangers, is apt to terrify the fearful. Now this being the last scene, it seems strange that the dearest friends should be quite passive, and do nothing towards brightening the hopes of a blissful immortality. We suppose that it will answer no good purpose to speak of death to one on a sick bed, unless the patient is a most abandoned, wicked person ; and yet to such it may be of the least use, of which I told thee some instances. Our indifference in this instance isstampt with such a mark of fashionable authority, that any conduct contrary to it, would be suspected of enthusiasm or hypocrisy. As a proof of this, how seldom are the ministers of God's word required to attend ; though good men, on such occasions, appear as angels to comfort. This is strange, MARY, but I fear it is too true ; and this, amongst other things, makes 78 the folly more apparent, in those who trust they shall repent, .though they know not when, nor where, nor how. They are sure they shall die sometime or other, and they observe that people usually die in beds, and conclude they shall have a chance of a death-bed repentance. O MARY, do thou live prepared for death, nor in a concern of such vast moment trust to thou knowest not what. Remember if thou puttest otf till to-morrow that which thou couldst do to-day, thou wilt not only be guilty of presumption, but it is highly probable thou wilt never do it. I will tell tfaee, MARY, why I think so. To-morrow, and to-morrow, creep on in a stealing pace, to the erid of our days. To-morroiv can never be to-day. We never can be sure of thinking to-morrow, as we do to-day ; but of this we are sure, that the lamp of life burns out, though behind the curtain ; and when the oil is spent, darkness must follow. The general consideration of death shews the folly of immoderate grief, as well as excessive joy, for any thing that befals us. It likewise shews the madness of the daring sinner, who mocks at the fear of God. His last day draws near, when he will stand trembling with terror before his tremendous judge. The approaching day of the good is also coming on, in the same pace ; but this will be to them a day of triumph, beyond the power of language to describe. " The sorrows of the poor and the despised will then fly away like the shades of night at the approach of the sun." That such glory, O my daughter, may be thine, shall be my constant prayer ! DISCOURSE X. I DARE say, MARY, thou hast thought seriously of the subject of our yesterday's conversation. I hope it will live in thy memory, as long as it shall please Heaven to give thee breath. Thou seest how sincerely I wish to promote thy well- being beyond the grave ; I would gladly do the same to all the children of men, and thus partake of all the good they may arrive at the possession of, in that country where all distinctions cease but those of virtue, I told thee thy chance of life for fifteen years, and my own for five ; yet hast thou not often heard people say, when they approach to sixty, " Threescore years ! that is no age /" They know perhaps that in a thousand born, a few remain 80 alive at. fourscore, * and yet the chance is, that half the people of 60 will be dead before 70. f A\&9,poor ten years, to strut in about the world ! And do they consider that these ten years are but broken fragments of time, divided out amongst the number of candidates of life ; some have only one or two, and others eight or nine; and one with another, they hardly obtain above six years of the ten ? Too many are so unwilling to die, as secretly to envy ignorance or poverty, or pain, where they think there is a prospect of length of days. Were it duly attended to, nothing could exalt us so much as the consideration of a life to come ; nothing is so noble, extensive, and delightful in contemplation. All the glory of this world is as nothing to it And indeed mortality appears so continually at our doors and windows, in our chambers and fields, that one would imagine we should fly to the promises of the gospel as to our only Telief, and as the only effectual preservative against the fear of death. But when we do not * Of 72 persons (the remainder of 1000 born) being 70 years of age, by the course of mortality 55 of them die vyithin ten years; and consequently only 27 of the 100O remain alive at the age of 80. t Of 135 (the remainder of 1000 born) being 60 years of age, before ten years are expired CS of them die, which is not far short of the half part to die before any one reaches to 70 years. 81 learn such lessons in our youth, we hardly come to a right understanding of them ; yet learn them we must at some time or other, or retire quite unprepared to give up Our account. If thou, MA;CY, wilt try the experiment, and make the next life the first object of thy thoughts, take my word for it, thou wilt, as thou advancest, enjoy a glorious and delightful entertainment which common mortals are strangers to. Indeed, I am afraid it is a secret to a great part of mankind, though evidently the leading principle of the gospel, and most intimately connected with our progress in holiness. It is impossible to live, and not to die ; and God hath made it impossible to die, without being happy or miserable after death. We hear of each other's bodily complaints, " till we grow sick of the subject ;" but when didst thou hear any one talk properly of the joys he hoped for after death ? How might we animate each other in this glorious pursuit, if our practice kept pace with our Christian pro- fession ! " The wise look forward into futurity, and consider what will be their condition millions of ages hence, as well as what it is at present." And how can the true spirit of Christianity be revived, unless we meditate on the happy immortality which it promises ? Such being the defects in the practice and 3 82 intercourse of nominal Christians, I know not what better advice I can give thee, than to con- verse with thine own heart ; to read, to think, to regulate thy thoughts, and observe the tendency of thy actions, calling thyself always to a proper account. The less thou examinest thine heart, the more deceitful it will become, and the more it will flatter thee. Yet when thou dost examine it, be not disheartened at thine own im perfections. Every thing may be reformed by grace, and improved by care. Compassion is due to our- selves ; a severity of self -chastisement, beyond the bounds which reason warrants and our trust in God demands, leads to melancholy or despair. Austerities, beyond certain bounds, have not the marks of true religion. We may be very wise, and yet in good spirits, cheerful, and good- humoured ; nay, piety itself implies an agreeable and pleasing quality. In many cases we ought to remember our own faults, and forget those of others/ yet, though conscious of our own im- perfections, we should take pains to consider ourselves in that light wherein it is most probable we shall benefit ; drawing this conclusion, that distrust of God is of all evils the greatest except despair. Endeavour, MARY, to conquer the world and the vanities thereof, or these will conquer thee. It is necessary to contend for victory in humble S3 confidence, that when thou hast done thy en- deavour, though thine own merit cannot save tbee, yet wilt thou be accepted. " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." Remember the counsel and admonition of our great Lord and Master when he bid his disciples, and consequently all his followers through all generations, to be of good cheer, for that he had overcome the world. If thou wilt walk in his steps, thou wilt overcome it too, as far as will be required of thee. Be assured that whenever the thoughts of immortality are habitually rejected, thou art either living in a sinful habit, in defiance of heaven, or thou dost not believe the promises of Christ, so as to look forward towards them with a grateful, a joyful, and a courageous heart. This great doctrine of the resurrection, is pro- perly an object of faith ; but now that it is revealed to us, nothing is more agreeable to reason, and the works of God give evidence to it, I know, that although the corn which I sow corrupts, and lies dead in the earth, it brings forth its seed in due season. These are the works of God, and we see the effects with our eyes, but how they are performed we know not. Thou seest them, and believest in them ; is it not highly reasonable to believe in his word also? We have the most undoubted evidence that Christ arose from the dead, and that he raised 84 the dead. The miracles he did, gave proof of the will of the Almighty, as well as of his power ; and we have the express promise of Christ (if we are really his disciples) that where he is, there we shall be also. St. John xiv. 3. If thou therefore meanest to deserve the glorious name of a Christian, be zealous for thy Master's honour. Examine into the circumstances of his life with care and attention, and shew thy love for him by thy obedience to his precepts : all other instructions compared to them are light in the balance. Thou wilt find it in the New Testament, most clearly marked out.* Keep * Instances of the life of our Saviour proposed to imitation. 1. His early piety. Luke ii. 46. 2. obedience to hi* earthly parents. Luke ii. 51. 5. unwearied diligence in doing good. Acts x. 38. 4. humility and lowliness of mind. Matt. xi. 29. r>. The unblameableness and inoffensiveness of his life and actions. Matt. xix. 27. 6. His eminent self-denial. Phil. ii. 7, 8. 7. contentment in a low and mean condition in this world. Luke ix. 58. Phil. iv. ii. 8. frequent performance of the duty of private prayer. Luke vi. 12 Mark i. 35. 9. affectionate performance of the duty of praise and thanksgiving. Matt. xi. 25. John xi. 41. 10. compassion towards those who were miserable and in distress. Matt. xx. 34. 11. spiritual entertainment, and useful discourse. Luke aciv. 7. xxiv. 13. 85 thine eye on this model in every action of thy life ; it will give thee more comfort and joy ia the end, than volumes of other reading, or all the pleasures the earth can furnish. And what hath been the fate even of whole nations, with rega d to this world? Where are the ancient people, the Jews, who made so great a figure in their time, as the sacred history informs us ? What variety of national punish- ments did their sins occasion, till they were cut off from the earth as a people! Where are the mighty empires of the Assyrians, the Babylo- nians and Egyptians? Where are the Romans, who were masters of the Jews, as the Scriptures acquaint us, when, under their ruler PONTIUS PILATE, the Lord Jesus Christ was put to death 12. His free, familiar, sociable behaviour. Matt. xi. Id. Luke v. 29. J3. patience under sufferings and reproaches. 1 Peter ii. 21, 22. 14. readiness to forgive injuries. Luke xxiii. 34. 15. laying to heart the sins as well as sufferings of others. Mark iii. 5. 16. zeal for the public worship of God. John ii. 17. 17. glorifying his Father in all he did. John xvii. 4. 18. impartiality in reproving sin. Matt. xxii. 23. 10. universal obedience to his Father's will, and cheerful submission to his Father's pleasure. Matt, xx vi. 99. 20. laws and practice of universal holiness, both in heart and life. Luke iv. 34. 86 upon the cross? Those mighty states are wiped off the face of the earth. And what will he the fate of the earth itself, and all the glorious lumi- naries that surround it ? The stars will fade away, and the sun he extinguished, at the com- mand of the Most High. But still, my daughter, thou who art as a worm wilt live for ever. If therefore at any time thy misery should be great, though great, misery is seldom the lot of the vir- tuous, still consider that it will not last long. It will soon cease, or it will make an end of thee by death, and death will crown thy constancy with everlasting happiness. DISCOURSE XI. IN contemplating the life of our Saviour, and the rules of behaviour which he hath taught, thou wilt find such hope and joy spring up in thy breast, as will banish all false apprehensions. Whatever thy lot may be, this will prevent thy falling into the blindness of superstition, the frenzy of enthusiasm, or the deplorable sighs of melancholy. There are many who pretend to genuine Christianity, and yet have foisted into their religion a vast variety of follies and ini- quities. It is necessary on this occasion to warn thee against them. 87 The Papists have carried their superstition to the height of idolatry, insomuch that they even pray to deceased mortals, and worship images made of wood and stone, pray to saints of their own making. I have heard my master say that he has seen in Popish countries, images carried about the streets, to which the people fell down upon their knees and prayed, ascribing to them the power of working miracles. To such heights of dotage and childishness may mankind be brought, when they have once deviated from the true worship of the one supreme and invisible God ! Canst thou think there are any in this land so blind as to entertain this absurd faith ? There are some so foolish, even at this time, when Papists themselves in several Popish coun- tries, are every day discovering their errors and delusions. To such a height may false fear and fantastic hope be carried, as to make people believe that such a male or female saint can do such and such things for them ; or if they make application, with liberal presents, at the church or chapel dedicated to such a saint, he will avert evils and give them success. These people also make vows and promises, as if God were to be bribed by their gifts and deeds of ostentatious charity. Learn from hence what evils mankind are ex- posed to ; and how happy we are in being bora in a land where the Scriptures are in every one's 88 hand, remembering that the greater our oppor- tunities, the greater will be our condemnation if we do not avail ourselves of them, and that it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for us ! See St. Luke x. 14. Perhaps thou art not aware that even right dispositions, if carried beyond their due bounds, and not regulated by reason, may degenerate into vices. And thus it comes that the fear of God, if unworthy notions are entertained of him, may produce superstition. In some countries this weakness has been considered as a crime; but surely, M ARY, it is rather an object of thy com- passion than of thy anger. Some to this day make every thing to be ominous, and in their foolish opinion, the most simple accidents threaten great evils witness the croaking of a raven, or the tickling of a spider or other insect, vulgarly called a death-watch. Thou hast seen some of our good neighbours much disturbed at the over- setting of salt on the table, and by laying knives across; and if there happen to be just thirteen in number in a company, they make it a reason for believing one of them will die within the course of the year ; and not knowing who it will be, they all imagine what they please, and take pains to torment themselves. There are a thou- sand foolish whims, the true growth of super- stition. It is hard to say whether there be most 89 folly or madness in this; but it certainly argues a distrust of the wisdom and goodness of God : for how can we suppose that the all-wise Ruler of the world will discover any of his designs to men, by means so trifling and insignificant, or torment them by doubts and anxieties, founded On such trivial circumstances ? Superstition prepares the mind to receive any impressions from artful persons, such as pretend to tell for- tunes, and others yet more wicked, who, deluding by false doctrines, and representing falsehood as truth, and vice as virtue, lead the unwary into great mischief, and sometimes into destruction. And thus superstition roots up the foundations of religion ; and in no instance has it been pro- ductive of more tragical effects than in the belief of witchcraft. Be assured, MAHY, that witches are nothing but the children of a sick brain. To imagine that the Lord of nature should make a poor old woman an instrument to " untie the winds, to swallow up ships in the waves, to blight the bladed corn, and to afflict a favourite child with fits or insanity," merely because she has been refused a trifle when begging at the door, is altogether weak and absurd. Our poor old neighbour, Dame Tempest, has been called a witch, merely because the variety of her wretchedness has made her a miserable object. Her eyes are covered with a dreadful salt and burning rheum ; she trembles in speech; 90 her hearing much impaired ; her garb is the em- blem of poverty, composed of various colours, being patches with .which industry and misery have loaded it. And yet this poor creature has seen better days ; but, outliving all her children and her friends, and condemned to a solitary cottage, she hath appeared as an outcast from the human race. She worked as long as she was able, but is now reduced to the miserable pit- tance of one shilling a week from the parish. Yet in the midst of all this accumulated distress, she possesses herself with patience and fortitude, looking forward to her dissolution with tranquil- lity and hope. When I visit her, she speaks to me with freedom and good sense. " You are as an angel sent from heaven," she says, " to support and comfort me. You think me miserable, but per- haps I am not so much so as I appear ; the evils that I suffer are some of them the inevitable lot of humanity, and as my conscience bears me witness that ' in simplicity and godly sincerity I have had my conversation in this world,' I look forward with hope and confidence to brighter and happier scenes ; the approach of death has not any terrors for me, nay, it even seems desi- rable ; and since it is the inevitable lot of all, is not this a privilege, think you, which it is worth the suffering something to obtain ?" Yet, MARY^ with all this Christianity about her, so weak does credulity make mankind, that 91 she is suspected of being what they call a witch. When fear of evil is founded in a sense of guilt, repentance and amendment of life only can sub- due it, and convert it into the genuine fear of God. There is, however, but one way of forti- fying thy soul against superstitious fear, and that is, by endeavouring, with singleness of heart, to secure to thyself the friendship and protection of that Being who disposes of all events, past, present and to. come; insomuch that not a hair can fall from thy head, but he knoweth it. I must give thee another charge with regard to false notions of religion. I have heard people talk of enthusiasts, who have totally neglected their families, their own health, and the concerns of this world, supposing this to be necessary to maintain an intercourse with the next. What a strange absurdity 1 In Popish countries, numbers of both sexes live on the spoils of the poor, and do nothing ; but religion is so far from supposing that we have not bodies to provide for, that there is hardly a lesson in it which does not teach something that regards the good of the body; and whoever neglects his family, or his own health, from a mistaken notion that he shall thereby more acceptably serve God, will find that he is most grievously mistaken, for this is volun- tary to leave undone, and to unfit himself for many of those duties which the Gospel requires. That there are enthusiasts of this untoward and 9-2 ridiculous turn of mind, I do indeed believe, but I am persuaded their number is very inconsider- able, and that these ought rather to be ranked as madmen, than merely as enthusiasts. " I was hungry and ye gave me food ; I was naked and ye clothed me; 1 was sick and ye visited me." These, our great friend the Lord Jesus informs us, are works which he wjll regard as done to himself, if we do them to others who are in need. And though they must flow from a good spirit, they surely relate to the body. Though i give thee this caution against a false notion which pious people sometimes fall into, I believe there are very few instances wherein industry is checked by piety, so as to neglect a provision for the body. The sobriety recom- mended by religion, naturally tends to promote industry. Another evil is melancholy : this sees misfor- tunes which never come, it anticipates those that will come, ajid it aggravates them when they are arrived : in effect, it runs to meet those cala- mities which we should rather fly from, or, by opposing them with courage, conquer them. Superstition and melancholy are nearly related, and generally meet in the same person. Upon the whole, we have all need of a faithful friend, or a severe enemy, to admonish and correct us, to persuade us to our duty, or shew us our faults, so as to make us ashamed of them. Happy are those who have such a friend ! In me, daughter, thou findest one whose fidelity thou mayest depend on. These evils are to be guarded against with the more care, as they often take the name of virtues; and few who are infected by them are s nsiMe of their disease: being the effect of gross folly or weakness of mind, the same weak- ness renders the remedy hard to come at. DISCOURSE XII. BUT worse even than superstition, enthusiasm, or melancholy, is the evil of uncharitableness in respect to others who differ from ourselves in opinion. Every people and language have no- tions of things peculiar to themselves ; but want of charity is the rock on which so many millions have run, when they have fondly imagined them- selves to be in a fair course. The opinions of men are as different as their persons ; and the rash manner in which we sometimes hear sen- tence pronounced on each other is no proof of wisdom, but, on the contrary, leads many into a labyrinth of uncharitable blindness. I believe, my daughter, that all mankind who act agreeably to the dictates of their conscience, according to the lights afforded them, will be accepted by God: I believe this, because I hope 04 the sincerity of my own heart will be accepted by him, though I should err ; and for the same reason that 1 would shew mercy to others, I hope mercy will be shewn to me. God forbid that thou shouldst look upon any one as a foe to heaven, merely because he differs from th.ee in opinion ; or be an enemy to any person who, as far as thou knowest, is a friend to God. Do not thou, who art dust and ashes, pre- tend to decide the fate of others ; nor let it affect the benevolence of thy mind, though others should presumptuously sit in judgment upon thee. Adore thy Maker for his boundless good- ness to all the children of men, whatever their situation may be. If thou hast a deep sense of such goodness, it will naturally inspire thy mind with the tenderest charity and the truest benevo- lence towards all thy fellow-creatures, by what- ever faith, mode of worship, or worldly interests they are distinguished. This is the way, my dear MARY, to follow the great Lord and Teacher of the Christian world. If thou thinkest thy neighbour in an error, which it is not in thy power to correct, it is enough if thou avoidest falling into the same mistake. Still, I say, be charitable, and leave him to that Being who is infinite in wisdom and mercy, and will most assuredly adjust all those differences which men so often, and so vainly attempt to regulate. 95 I have many times observed, my daughter, that, whether in religious or worldly concerns, " what men say for themselves, and what their adversaries infer, or represent them as saying, are generally two very different things ; and those who will not be at the pains to consider dis- tinctly what each side alleges for itself, but will judge of either by the character or representation made of it, will be for ever led into erroneous judgments concerning men and things, and con- tinue unavoidably ignorant of the true state of the matter in question." Experience has taught me this is so much the case, that I am always slow of believing vulgar report. As creatures of one common nature, endowed with such noble principles of action, anci yet limited to so short a time, one might suppose that nothing but love and harmony would be found here on earth; yet, unhappily, how con- stantly do we observe the contrary ! The gay world, whose pursuits do not allow them time for much inquiry, are too apt to reproach the most serious, be their faith and practice ever so pure, and frequently represent them as of some sect or other which they thrnk to be a reproach. The most ignorant are always the most conceited, or unable to discern their own folly, or the wisdom of others. If, therefore, it should fall to thy lot to be reproached for thy piety, as if, being pioas, there- 96 fore thou must have adopted some false opinion, bear it patiently : rather think it the misfortune of others in judging ill, than thy own .in being ill judged of; for most of us have a greater propen- sity to detect small faults than to applaud great virtues. In general, mankind live more according to fashion and opinion, which are very changeable, than according to the rules of wisdom, which are steady and lasting; and as they live them- selves, so they judge of others. Upon the whole, I hope thou wilt treat all foolish or unjust reproach with indifference; yet, as occasions offer, it may be not only warrantable, but necessary, to defend thyself, by explaining thy opinion, and recommending peace and good will. Contradiction expressed in gross terms inflames the passions, and passionate disputes hardly ever enlighten the understanding, though they often extinguish the light of reason. " In heat of argument men are commonly like those that are tied back to back, close joined, and yet they cannot see one another." My master used to mention an excellent rule to be observed in disputes : " That we should give soft words and hard arguments, and not strive to vex but to con- vince our opponents." *' There is as much wisdom in bearing with other peoples' defects as in being sensible of their good qualities; and we should make the follies 97 of others a warning and instruction to ourselves." This is the way to preserve the mind in charity and peace, to correct ourselves, and to reform the world. Thou, my dear MARY, art yet comparatively in a state of innocence. Mayest thou continue in it, and let me die in peace ! Remember that " it is always term-time in the court of con- science ; and every one committing a trespass is a prisoner of justice as soon as it is done,'* whether it be known or not. What even thy conscience but whispers thee to be wrong, there is so strong a presumption will be displeasing to God, that thou shouldst forbear and fly from it, lest it sting thee to death ; for " a wounded spirit who can bear ?" There is no remaining fixed to one point; thou wilt be always going on improving, or giving way and growing worse. Time never stands still: our nature subjects us to change ; and our change should always be for the better. Thus, though thou shouldst remain low in condition, thou mayest rank high in virtue ; but all the wealth in the world will not compensate for a bad con- science. Let a little time pass, and all the dis- tinctions about which mankind make such a bustle, and often hazard their conscience and their souls, drop into the grave. The earth will cover us all ere long, and she herself will be F 98 changed ; and therefore it is absurd to be exalted or dejected, beyond measure, about any thwg here below. I will venture to assure thee, from the variety I have seen in my own life, that reality scarce ever equals imagination. Our earthly delights are seldom so sweet in enjoyment as they are in expectation ; but the pleasures of the mind are always sweet in proportion as they arise from a quiet conscience and a mind full of hope. To be sensible that the conscience is wounded is one part of its cure, provided we keep the sore open till it heals effectually, and not as those who skin it over, or do any thing to divert the pain. " It fareth with men of an evil conscience, when they must die, as it does with riotous spendthrifts when they must pay their debts ; they have de- clined coming to account, from a distrust of their inability to pay, till the hand of justice overtakes them." Think, O my dear MARY, that divine justice comes with leaden feet, yet if we persist in our offences, it will strike with iron hands. Heaven preserve thy soul unspotted from the world ! DISCOURSE XIII. IN common life, MARY, we esteem humility one of the most excellent of moral virtues. It makes us love our fellow-creatures, and often attracts their affection, but can excite no malice or envy. It has one peculiar advantage adapted to all circumstances, for it sets us above the world in the truest and best sense ; for " he that is little in his own eyes, will not be troubled to be thought so by others." The consequence of which is, freedom from temptations to pride and envy ; whilst it bids fair to subdue anger, am- bition, and all other turbulent passions, which are so apt to inflame and disturb the human breast. Thus, what is most pleasing to God, is at the same time most productive of worldly happiness. " Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." Thou hast promised me in the most solemn manner to be humble, that is, to use thy endea- vours to be so. Our Saviour commands us to learn of him, for that he is meek and lowly ; and if we follow his example, we shall find rest unto our souls. From whence we may easily conclude that we shall not find any such rest if we are turbulent, ambitious, covetous, or discontented. One sally of anger, one emotion of envy, or unchaste desire, naturally begets another; and 100 till we conquer ourselves we certainly shall not be at peace. The mind is the seat of empire in the little world within us, and if its subjects mean to be at peace, they must be quiet. If any temptation create an extraordinary tumult in thy breast concerning what is right to be done, consult thy conscience, and humble thyself before thy God. In doing this we may possibly feel some smart, but this is of the kind we are sensible of on the dressing a wound by any salve which heals it. Humility hath amazing properties, and operates on the passions like a charm. If against thy better judgment thy in- clination pulls thee with the cords of iniquity, fly to thy prayers for succour. Think of the effects of ingratitude : consider the terrors of an offended conscience: bring that to thine eyes immediately, which must surely happen : and startle at the bitter pangs of remorse ! We often hear the sober part of mankind talk of the necessity of warring against nature; but they mean this of the corruptions of our nature. To oppose the evil propensities to which we find ourselves inclined, is the best proof of being friends to religion. If our passions rebel, we must war against them, and reduce them to obedience and reason. By whatever name thou callest thy evil inclinations, it is thy duty to oppose them. The task will become easy as soon as thou art accustomed to it, aud the struggle 101 will be crowned with victory. We are assured that the power of conquering will be given us, if we seek it with a sincere heart. If thou wilt take my advice, read the New Testament every day of thy life, though it should be but a verse or two, in order to supply thyself with some good thought. Lend a patient ear to these oracles of God. Transcribe what thou readest into thine heart, and cherish it in thy bosom. If the circumstances of the life and death of Christ, what he did and suffered, and what he hath commanded and forbidden, were made the rule of life, we should feel our existence in a very dif- ferent manner, and our days would pass in greater peace. Such lessons are necessary at all times ; but if we do not learn and relish them whilst we are in youth, how are we to form our taste and model our lives as we advance in years? If we dwell on the sense contained in the Scriptures, and consider them as the words of eternal life, we shall not be at a loss to find the road to a happy eternity. What years have I squandered! How often have I offended my reason ! From experience I now am qualified to be thy instructor: O my daughter, attend to my words, and be wise ! Indeed, MARY, I am under no anxiety as to what thy lot may be in this world, provided thy life be virtuous. I hope all other good will fol- low ; for, whilst thou art virtuous, thou ne*ver 10-2 wilt be forsaken of God, or totally rejected by thy fellow-creatures. Thy want of riches is, in many respects, freedom from temptation ; such is the kindness of heaven in that which is with- held as well as in that which may be given. When we see good men afflicted, which frequently happens to some during the whole course of a long life* for what can this be but to exercise their faith, and advance them in their progress to perfection? There needs no extraordinary- powers of understanding to reconcile such events. I learnt in my early days that even heathens conciwded, from the distress in which virtue is sometimes involved, and from the splendour in which vke frequently triumphs, there must be a state of rewards and punishments after death and accordingly my master told me that their an* cient poets represented this state in very strong ufld significant terms. They had no clear lights ;o guide them; we have such lights. No man <>n earth has been in heaven or in hell to tell us what is passing there ; but the word of God gives us as much information in this matter as can pos- sibly be necessary ; for if men believe it not, " neither would they be persuaded though one should rise from the dead." Could I, my dear MARY, " represent to thee the different states of good and bad men could I give thee the prospect which the blessed martyr ST. STEPHEN had, and shew thee the blessed ^ESUS, at the right hand 103 of God, surrotmded with angels, and spirits of just men made perfect could I open thine ears to hear the never-ceasing hymns of praise which the blessed above sing to him that mas, and is, and is tv come ; and to the lamb that -w'as slain, but livctk for ewer could I lead thee through the unbound* ed regions of eternal day, and shew the mutual and unbounded joys of saints, who are at rest from their labour, and: live for ever in the pre- sence of God ! or could I change the scene, and unbar the iron gates of hell, and carry thee through solid darkness, to the fire that never goes out and to the worm that never dies could I shew thee the apostate angels fast bound in chains, or the souls of wicked men overwhelmed with torment and despair could I open thine ears to hear the deep Itself groan with the continual cries of misery, cries which can never reach the throne of mercy, but return in sad echoes, and add even to the very horrors of hell," could I do this, my daugh- ter, 1 should rouse every faculty of thy soul, and arm thee with a triple shield to guard it against the dangers it is exposed to. What I have been saying to thee is not vision- ary nor fanatical; they are the words of a great divine,* drawn from the Scriptures, and thou niayest plainly perceive in them the most nervous sense and manly piety, devoid of all poetical fic- * Dr. Sherlock, Vol. I. Discourse 1. 104 tion, and free from the bitter sighs of melancholy, the false fears of superstition, or the irregular warmth of enthusiasm. Make it thine own by recollection, and live as if thou hadst the glories of heaven in thy view. Thus, by the mercies of God, thou wilt ere long arrive in those blissful regions which the learned and judicious prelate has so beautifully described, there to sing hallelujahs before the throne of the Almighty in the transcendent glory of the one Supreme, and partake of that happiness which surpasses all description, and will endure for ever and ever. !n DISCOURSE XIV I AM afraid, MARY, thou hast experienced so much tenderness under my humble roof, thou wilt think thy treatment the harsher any where else; but fear not: rather suspect that an excess of kindness may make thee proud, or lead thee into some other snare, than be discomforted, if some things should be displeasing to thee. Bles- sed are those who do not raise their expectations above measure ; for they shall not be disappointed. 105 Nothing is more natural to youth than impatience. Their inexperience flatters them into a belief that every thing ought to be according to their will. They forget the proverb, that " the furthest way about is the nearest way home ;" and are often in so great a hurry as to defeat their own purpose. They do not accommodate their minds to others as subordination requires, and yet they flatter themselves that others will submit to them. It is said that " hasty men never want woe;" and it is most true, that impatience often in- volves them in quarrels and great difficulties. I charge thee, MARY, to love patience. Carry these truths stored in thy mind. " A patient man will bear for a time, and afterward joy shalj spring up unto him. He will hide his words for a time; and the lips of many shall declare his wisdom. The sinner shall not escape with his spoils ; and the patience of the godly shall not be in vain." These, my daughter, are the senti- ments given in this case, by the wisest man, except one, that ever lived upon the earth ; and the experience of above two thousand years, has confirmed the matter. The government of the tongue also seems to be a branch of patience, for unseemly words are a great proof of the want of it. We have a common saying (of those who speak foolishly), " that a fool's bolt is soon shot." We have two ears, and but one tongue, as if Providence meant that we F3 10(5 should hear much and speak little. To use good words is an easy obligation ; but not to speak ill, requires only our silence, which costs nothing. When thou nearest evil reports, repeat them not, thou wilt then be sure of doing no harm to thy- self, nor injustice to thy neighbour : and this will afford thee more true satisfaction, than any plea- sure thou canst enjoy in telling a tale, the very repetition .of which carries with it some degree of evil. If there is no use in telling it, but merely for conversation, there is some danger ; and therefore let every one talk of it, before thou openest thy mouth ; and then do it with tender- ness and sorrow, rather than severity and satis- faction. If there is joy in heaven over a sinner that repenteth, there must be sorrow in heaven over every one that offends: and shall angels weep, and sinful man make a play-game of human misery ? O my daughter, let not my lessons of charity and compassion be given in vain. The day will come, when thou wilt think them of great value ; and how vastly shall I gain by this cultivation of thy heart, as well as my own, when I must leave my fields to another husbandman ! Believe me, there is nothing so dangerous, or so contemptible, as a satirical vein, and an over- bearing manner of treating friends or foes. " He that maketh others afraid of his wit, hath need be afraid of their memory." To despise those with whom we commonly converse, or turn them 107 into ridicule, is so ungenerous, I may say so treacherous, that it is shocking to humanity The best dispositions have many blemishes; and why should we speak of them to no good end? The artful way of mentioning some slight merits to gain credit for candour, and then come out with a but, and heavy accusations, is really abo- minable! Always think before thou speakest. In order to live peaceably, *' never construe that in earnest which may be considered as-spoken in jest, and be careful not to say that in jest which may be construed in earnest." It is a pro- verb, that " many a true word has been spoken in jest:" but whether it be jest or earnest, peo- ple, conceited of their wit, usually say what they think is bright and shining, let it cost them or their neighbour ever so dear. There is a time when nothing, a time when something, but no time when all things are to be spoken. Life and death are in the power of the tongue. Therefore take heed, my daughter, of whom, and to whom, thou speakest. The fondness which most people have of hear- ing themselves speak, and of entertaining each other, often prompts them to supply the defects of memory by invention ; I do not mean premedi- tated falsehood, but that in a flow of spirits they make their story good at ail events. Most people who attempt to tell stories, are apt to tell them too often, especially as they grow old : " a tale 108 out of season, is as music in mourning ;" ami many a good story ill-told, appears a bad one. Above all, let me caution thee never to close thine eyes in sleep without recollecting whether thou hast not said something wicked or foolish, too much, or perchance too little in the day past. Repent with shame and sorrow. There are some so unguarded and liberal 6f speech, and indulge their resentments so much, that their whole life becomes a scene of folly or guilt; and some who are so callous, they know not when they offend. Nothing creates variance so much as evil tongues ; and thy sex and youth make it more particularly incumbent on thee not to indulge thyself in much talking; it cannot be reconciled to modesty, and it opens such a field for famili- arity among servants, as is apt to breed hatred and contempt, or love out of season. Thou mayest observe, that people of no education are so much the less reserved in the decency and modesty of their discourse. Consider also thy particular situation as a servant. The superior station of thy mistress will naturally lead her to expect a degree of ho- mage from thee; and that thou shouldst not speak but when thou art spoken to, and then be as ready as thou canst with thy answer. If her regard for thee should incline her sometimes to speak familiarly, never forget she is thy mistress. If she should occasionally consider thee as her 109 bumble friend and companion, thy task will be- come the more difficult. If thou speak boldly it may be considered as impertinence; and if thou flatter her, as is the custom of female servants in such circumstances, she being a woman of under- standing, will look upon thee with contempt. In common life, we, who from birth and educa. tion have no view beyond servitude, are apt to grow useless^ if not impertinent, if we meet with much indulgence. If thy mistress should demand thy opinion of a matter thou dost not understand, to excuse thy- self as being ignorant is sufficient; but if thou art acquainted with it, relate the facts rather than give thy opinion of them, and leave her to form a judgment, declaring, in submissive teVms, how much more able she is to judge than thyself. This thou mayest do without the least violation of truth ; for, in all human probability, it will be the case ; but remember to express thyself in as few, not in as many, words as possible. 1 have said the more on this subject, not only with a view to teach thee how to behave in general, but as happiness in service depends so much on the government of the tongue. 110 DISCOURSE XV. FROM the government of the tongue, consider next, MARY, the importance of truth. I have heard my master say, that the Egyptians of old were used to wear a golden chain, beset with precious stones, which they styled truth, inti- mating that to be the most illustrious ornament. The sacred writings tell us that God is truth; and therefore, to pervert the use of our speech, which so remarkably distinguishes us from the beasts that perish, must be a high offence to him. " Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out ; it is always at hand, and sits upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before we are aware: whereas a lie is trouble- some, and sets a man's invention on the rack ; and one trick needs a great many more to make it good." Servants are but too justly accused of being guilty of this vice, yet unhappily it is not wholly confined to them. Alas ! my dear MARY, when I attended at table, I once heard a great lie from the lips of a fine lady ; every one stared as if they had been frightened, but nobody re- proved her. Amongst the first Christians, they counted it a most impious thing even to dissemble the truth ; and, when under persecution, scorned even life Ill itself rather than preserve it on such base terms. This was not enthusiasm, but sober sense and reason : they were followers of him " in whose lips was no guile." It may be thy fortune to live among people who make no scruple, occasionally, to tell each other in plain words that they lie. This has a harsh sound, and a severe meaning. There are many untruths advanced wantonly, or by mistake; in such cases, do thou reply in decent terms, as, / think you are misinformed, or, / believe you are mistaken : those who have any breeding often add, you will pardon me, or, you will excuse me. There are also many lies of vanity, which are deceitful though not intended to injure. People who are too wise to believe what is said look se- rious on such occasions, and make no reply. It seems to be a duty of friendship, as well as hu- manity and religion, among intimates, to admonish in private for such lies ; though I am sorry to tell thee, MARY, that mankind seldom have so much courage on the one side to give, or humility on the other to take, notice in a friendly way of any sort of lies. Whatever the case may be, to give the lie is a great fault, though thou shouldst be much pro- voked ; but it is a greater to tell one. Women should be at least as careful of their honour, in this instance, as men usually are. Amongst the gentry, there are some men who will tell a lie 112 without any hesitation; but if they are reproach- ed by another, in order to support a good name, they demand his blood. Thus many have fought, under a notion of preserving their honour, who had no good name, and consequently hazarded their lives for nothing! I tell ttiee this, that thou mayest know what is passing in the world, and civilize thy manners, as all people ought to do. My master used to say, there are some nations whom we affect to despise for their ignorance and poverty, more civilized than ourselves, and among whom there is less danger of suffering violence. There is a civility even in a carman which natu- rally delights, and makes one wish to be his friend ; as, when he is brutal, we long to see him chastised. Remember that people who are really honest at heart are clear in their discourse, and keep close to truth. " Lying is the vice of a villain, a coward, and a slave. If thou art dis- covered, thou becomest for ever suspected. AH that thou canst get by lying or dissembling is, that thou wilt not be believed when thou speakest truth." If thou tell a lie, thou wilt be tempted to support one falsehood by another ; and a con- tinued aggravation of guilt, or a bitter repentance, must follow. .1 am sorry to tell thee, MARY, that there are many servants now-a-days who scruple not to tell lies, and others who equivocate and evade the truth. They mean to support a certain character, 113 by appearing to have more virtue than they can make a just claim to, and yet degrade themselves by the infamous practice of lying. Those who have been brought up in the fear of God, and understand the vileness of a lie, must be extremely distressed when they are taken by surprise ; but to intend by such means to deceive is shocking ! Lying is a vice which walks abroad with gigantic strides. It prevails much among those who are in a state of servitude, as if they were ignorant that a lie is a crime of the blackest dye. SOLOMON says, " a thief is better than a man accustomed to lie, but they both shall inherit destruction;" and, speaking in his own person, says," I have hated many things, but nothing like 'A false man, for the Lord will hate him." Destroy truth among men, and they will become to each other worse than beasts ; for these, I believe, practise no deceit upon their own kind. The wise man says, " The lip of truth shall be estab- lished for ever ; but a lying tongue is but for a moment." All wise people hold their tongues when it is not proper to speak ; but never lie, deceive or equivocate; for this is practising in the works of the devil, who is the father of lies. My dear MARY, I hope thou wilt convince thy mistress, and every body else, that thou hast a soul superior to falsehood, and hast learnt to dare to tell the truth to those who have a right 114 to require it, though thou shouldst condemn thyself to the acutest suffering. It is thus thou inayest he sure of respect, and perhaps of promo- tion : " Keep thy word, and deal faithfully, and thou shalt always find the thing that is necessary for thee." The wise man does not engage that dealing faithfully shall make every one rich ; this would be impossible: but that it will provide one with what is necessary for them ; which is all that we can with any decency beg of the Almighty, or perhaps with safety wish for or desire. My dear MARY, if I should live to hear thou hast told a lie, it will be as a dagger to my heart All the labours of my mind in thy service, and all the hours I have spent in giving thee instruc- tion, though they will return into my own bosom, yet with regard to thee, they will be mixed with the bitterness of sorrow. O cherish in thine heart the love of truth ; I have told thee that God is truth, and therefore those that love truth love God, and will be beloved of him ; and however mean their condition on earth, they are the objects of his mercy, and will be made happy for even and ever! 115 DISCOURSE XVI. OUR last conversation, MAIIY, was upon the subject of truth ; I will now endeavour to point out to thee the hateful nature of pride. A very little experience will teach thee how fatal it is to the human breast and how contemptible it appears in the eyes of the beholders. What is it such wretched mortals as we are can be proud of? If we do well, it is but our duty. Observe how the wretched little pismire, man, struts about when he is proud! Behold what an extravagant opinion he has of his own merits, what an im- moderate conceit of his own genius, and how low he holds others in esteem, who probably may be more estimable than himself! How untractable are the proud, how seldom they yield to reason, and how often they involve themselves and others in difficulties which might have been easily avoided ! It is amazing to consider how such things of dust as men can indulge pride! If thou feelest this passion work in thy breast, despise thyself in dust and ashes, and pity others when they are guilty. When I receive a favour, done with an air of pride and disdain, it loses more than half its value ; and my heart almost revolts against the 116 expression of my gratitude, to those who deserve so little of my esteem. To be proud of knowledge is absurd, seeing that the wisest know so little : and as to riches, do not the greatest among men stand in need of the meanest ; and are not our labours at least as useful to them, as their wealth to us ? Pride is apt to lurk in every human heart; consider therefore what is passing in thine own bosom. Pride, when it exalts us in our own esteem, and temprs us to despise others, never fails to wound the peace of mortals, and frequently turns their brain. Thou hast read that it was the crime of fallen angels. The wise man says, " the beginning of it is, when one departeth from God, and his heart is turned from his Maker." Re- member, MARY, that thou art a Christian, a fol- lower of the meekest and greatest person that ever lived. Consider how the brightness of his humility darts forth rays which dazzle and con- found the pride of man. SOLOMON says, " that vengeance, as a lion shall lie in wait for the proud, but humility and the fear of the Lord are riches, and honour, and life." Thou seest that he considers humility as inseparable from the fear of God, and productive of worldly blessings. But he tells us, " the proud are hated of God, and as they plough iniquity and so w wickedness, they shall reap the same." Proud people are generally the most ignorant 117 of their own hearts; nor can we see ourselves whilst pride stands in our light. How many iu all stations has it brought to ruin ! I could relate a tale which would melt your heart: I remember a farmer's daughter in this neighbourhood who was sent to London, as you are now going. A place, which was thought a very good one, was provided for her ; but she, like a silly proud girl, and impatient of controul, thought she needed neither admonition nor in- struction, and in a petulant humour gave warning to her mistress. Unable to get so good a place, she declined a worse which she might have had, and was soon seized by the cold hand of poverty; and what was the consequence ? To relieve her wants she became a prostitute. She might have returned to her father; but neither would her pride allow of this. He heard of her evil, conduct, and wrote to her in terms that might have moved a heart of flint; at the same time requesting of me to seek her out, and expostulate with her. I thought myself fortunate in finding her, though in a brothel. After some other questions, for I spoke in the spiritof hu- manity, I asked her if she believed in a future life, and in a state of rewards and punishments after death, and if she thought the sin she lived in was not forbidden by the Christian religion, under the penalty of everlasting damnation, if she died impenitent. She looked stedfastly at 118 me for some time, as if she was at a loss what answer to make, and then said : " You may tell my father, I do not mean to go on in an evil course." However she continued in it ; and be- fore she had reached the age of twenty-two, died of a decay, the effect of the foul disease. In general, is it not enough to humble the proudest heart, to consider what sickness, pain, age, or misfortune may reduce us to ; and that a few years must bring us all down to the dust ? Of all human blindness and folly nothing can be more deplorable than pride ; in the rich, it is one of the most mischievous, among the poor, the most contemptible of vices. Pride will choak all thy other virtues. Among the proud themselves thou mayest observe that they hate one another, and are the first that complain ; for though a likeness of manners in all other instances gene- rally begets love, in this it produces hatred. Consult thine own welfare : think what the effects of pride usually are mockery, derision and reproach. From the same fountain flow unforgiveness, cruelty and the contempt of others. O MARY, despise not the meanest person on earth, nor suffer pride to hurry thee into resent- ment of the untoward behaviour of others. At first view it seems to be difficult to return good for eczV, but thou hast been taught, from thy youth up, that this is wisdom, and virtue and immortal glory. How many, through pride, shew the fiercest resentment for mere trifles! Yet thou wilt be told, perhaps, that a portion of prkie is necessary for a woman, and is the best preservative of her chastity. But such advisers mistake a reserve of behaviour, which often pro- ceeds from a principle of prudence, for that detestable vice. This reserve thou wilt generally do well to practise, but do not confound so ob- vious a distinction, as many are apt to do. Vanity and affectation are vices to which thy sex is in a particular manner addicted : it is necessary therefore to give thee a precaution against them. Vanity is the folly of foolishness, and affectation the crier that proclaims it. If thou mean to preserve thyself pure and untainted, dread vanity. When a woman grows vain of the charms of her person, or line clothes, or accom- plishments, she exposes herself to ridicule, and as it were, tempts vice ; for who expects resistance from those who have so little under- standing ? One would not imagine, MARY, that in our rank of life these vices should ever be seen ; but there are fools of all sorts, and I have seen young women in villages, as well as heard of them in courts, whom the looking-glass, or the flattery of men, have perverted even to turn their brains; and I believe the consequences are generally the most fatal in the lower state of life. They are more dangerously ill, MARY, who are drunk with vanity, than those who are intox- icated with wine. In the last case, a short time sobers them again ; but in the former, they some- times become incorrigible ; and you may be assured that every woman is defective in under- standing, in the same degree that she abounds in vanity. Take care, my daughter, how thou trustest to flatterers. The greater the commendation is, be the more on thy guard, and fall not a sacrifice to a few empty words, though there should be some truth in them. Believe not all the good that is spoken of thee, whether it be said to thy face or not. " The only advantage of flattery, regarding virtue or understanding, is, that by hearing what we are not, we may be instructed in what we ought to be." I have heard my master observe, that it is a very old saying, " that flatterers never lift any one up, but as the eagle does the tortoise, to get something by his fall ; and that crows devour only the dead, but flatterers the living." On the other hand, it is most true " that in the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh;" and some kind and tender words will fall from honest tongues, which, if not all strictly true, do not the less proceed from the heart. However, shut thine ears to flattery, from whatever quarter it may come. 1-21 As to us me, we are lavish in the praises of women whose personal charms make impressions on us ; but be cautious how thou listenest, lest thou shouldst fall thyself, where thou appre- hendest no danger. DISCOURSE XVII. CONSIDER further that pride and vanity lead to envy, and envy is apt to excite resentments even of virtue itself. Weak and wicked minds have often committed horrid crimes from mere envy : the envious poison themselves with tle virtues of others. SOLOMON says, " the envious man hath a wicked eye, he turneth away his face and despiseth men." The surest sign of a generous and good dis- position is to be without envy, but the base and ignoble are generally envious. In all the cata- logue of vices, none seem to be more foolishly wicked and abominable than envy, except malice and revenge. To pretend to lessen what we will not imitate, or to wish to humble those above us, because they are above us, has something in it so black, that I know not how to express the hatred which thou oughtest to have of it. Other pas- sions may claim a pretence at least to some G 122 pleasure or satisfaction ; but what can envy fur- nish but pain and vexation, at that which is properly the subject of joy ? Malice is nearly related to envy, and in its effects yet more abominable : what is said of one, may without much injustice be imputed to the other. And thou mayst constantly observe that those who are most inclined to do any injury, are for the same reason most disposed to malice / or in other words, least willing to forgive. If thou shouldst at any time so far turn thine eyes from heaven as to feel the impressions of malice in thine heart, look into thine own bosom and tremble! O my dear MARY, I can say nothing stronger than that malice is fit only for the ministers of the prince of darkness. Envy and malice are the genuine offspring of Lucifer, but revenge is his favourite child, and this passion is most apt to arise in persons of little minds. To indulge this passion is equally foolish and devilish. My dear MARY, learn to bear an injury, and consider an affront rather as injurious to the party who is guilty, than to thyself who art not guilty. If thy forbearance triumphs over the offence, thou art really the better, not the worse, for the affront ; it certainly costs more to revenge injuries than to bear them. I know an instance in which this passion has been gratified ; but it cost the party very dear. A girl of this neighbourhood taking offence, 123 robbed a man of his bride by telling a story which was not true, or very much disfuised. When the truth came out, it occasioned her losing her own lover, who was too generous in his nature to bear the thoughts of an alliance with a woman so dangerous with her tongue. Thou knowest that our divine religion com- mands us to be charitable and tender even to our enemies, and to do them good when they do us evil. SOLOMON was a Jew, yet he says, " He that revengcth shall find vengeance from the Lord, and he will surely keep his sins in remembrance." What then will become of such a miserable being, if, because of his revenge, his sins shall be had in remembrance against him ? Can we recol- lect too often that he that hateth his neighbour cannot love his God ? We are all likewise ad* monished to be kind to others, tender-hearted, forgiving, as God by Christ hath forgiven us. Cunning is also a crime, and 6ne that is im- puted most to thy sex, and to the very worst part of it, who are often dupes to their owil deceit. Thou mayst have heard of an artful woman, or in other words, a cunning woman, who has the talent of deceiving, or taking the ad- vantage of the ignoran^ or simplicity of other people. Cunning is sometimes mistaken for wisdom, but is as different in reality as light and darkness. Wisdom is truth itself, but cunning is a lie, artfully insinuated, and intended to de- G2 124 ceive, supposing that if truth be disguised the purpose will be answered. I must also warn thee of the danger of being too forward in believing, whether the matter relates to thyself or others. Consider what is said, and by whom it is said ; compare it with thy experience ; examine how far thy belief may concern thy interest; how it may hurt thy cha- rity or affect thy person. Nothing will sooner induce thee to believe a man than when he com- mends thee : nothing ought to alarm thee so much. Many a poor girl has become a sacrifice to the ready credit which she gave to the high commendations of her personal charms. If we examine the nature of praise in general, the partiality of some, and the inability of others to judge, there is great danger of its being often bestowed in the wrong place. What a bustle have we heard made by the multitude, in praise perhaps of the vainest or most vicious person ; whilst for want of virtue in themselves, they have totally overlooked the most virtuous cha- racters ! DISCOURSE XVlIt. I MUST next warn thee, my daughter, against the danger of a too eager pursuit after pleasure* Think what fools those are who give themselves up to idle pursuits, which are so very short in themselves, and must be attended with bitter repentance or endles torments ! A boy greatly smitten with the colours of a butterfly, pursued it from flower to flower with indefatigable pains. First he aims to surprise it among the leaves of a rose, then to cover it with his hat as it was feeding on a daisy ; now hoped to secure it as it rested on a sprig of myrtle ; and then grew sure of his prize, perceiving it loiter on a bed of violets. But the fickle fly continually changing one blossom for another, still eluded his attempts. At length observing it half buried in the cup of a tulip, he rushed forward, and snatching it with violence, crushed it to pieces. The dying insect seeing the poor boy chagrined at his disappoint- ment, addressed him in the following manner : " Behold now the end of thy unprofitable soli- citude! and learn, for the benefit of thy future life, that all pleasure is but a painted butterfly, which, although it may serve to amuse thee in the pursuit, if embraced with too much ardour, will perish in the grasp." 12(3 No man is a master of himself so long as he is a slave to any thing else. Reason grows stronger by the exercise of it, whereas our love of vicious pleasures acquires strength by our indulgence of them. Thou perhaps mayst think it more in character for me to preach than for thee to prac- tise. It is true, MARY, that I am in the declension of life, but for the same reason that I have tra- velled through it, I am the better able to inform thee, not only of the best roads, but also how to guard against falling from the precipices, or sinking into the quicksands with which it abounds. Now, my dear MARY, observe how the desire of pleasure creates secret wishes and expensive pursuits ; how it involves its votaries in diffi- culties ; how often these depart from their true interests, and at once sacrifice their virtue and tfceir happiness to an idol which at length falls down upon them and destroys them. Scenes of expense and jollity are frequently scenes of distress and misery ; and company-keeping, as we term it, has hurried many a young woman into destruction. I have heard some of my neighbours comfort themselves on their death-beds, that they never were company-keepers ; the very thing itself in their opinion, and as they saw others abuse the liberty of modest conversation, implying a degree of guilt. On occasions of jollity people seldom 127 know what they are about ; they warm their blood with liquor, and by the means of music and noise they banish reflection and what can be the consequence? Our great philosopher and friend says, *< The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of the fool is in the house of mirth ;" teaching us that wise men rather go where they can do some real good, and shudder not at beholding the most serious parts of life ; but that fools consider only how they shall be diverted ; and you may observe their aversion to every thing that requires thought. I have already told thee the danger of amuse- ment at improper times and in doubtful company. All the world knows that the fine lady and the country lass equally delight in dancing and singing; the difference is only in the manner. Now let me advise thee to avoid both in com- pany : singing is an amusement, and may be indulged in private or at church in psalmody; but idle songs will be apt to ensnare such a girl as thou art, especially if thou shouldst happen to excel thy companions. As to dancing, it is never practised but in company, and, in our sta- tion, dancing-company is, I think, generally bad company ; I mean that dancing in our station, is never conducted with perfect decency, and free from danger to young women. I know not if dancing be worse in town or country, but there 128 is no necessity to declare against it in such terms as to quarrel with thy neighbours who resolve to dance at all hazards. I wish that thou, my daughter, should be amused by walking, or any thing innocent, when thou art permitted to amuse thyself, rather than by dancing. These are the occasions, when such young women as thou art are least on their guard, and when men of evil intentions are most on the watch to carry their kicked designs into execution. Thou wilt always find amusement and instruction in reading, pro- vided thou makest choice of good and proper books, otherwise there is mischief also in these. This brings me to mention the great care thou shouldst take in the choice of thy companions. Be assured that wherever the speech is impure, the mind is corrupted. If thou mean to preserve thy religion and humanity untainted, it is time to withdraw when the discourse is wicked, inde- cent or slanderous. Consider thy company in a great measure as good or bad, as they are tender or cruel towards their neighbour. Always en- deavour to change the subject when others are ill spoken of. Soften the rigour of the sentence given by them, and avoid injustice towards a good name, as tbou wouldst decline a theft or robbery. If thou be satisfied from circumstances that the party absent is injured, plead their cause with a becoming warmth. In acting thus thou wilt do as thou wouldst be done by. Endeavour to accommodate thyself to the ca- pacity of those with whom thou conversest. If they be in a higher condition than thyself, the more silence and attention will be necessary ; with those who are lower, the more affability will be proper. Never affect being so much above the meanest as to treat them with inso- lence ; but whether superiors, equals or inferiors, if they be viciously inclined, avoid them : do it with as much decency as thy circumstances will admit of; but still, I say, avoid them. The very ** hatred of the vicious will do thee less harm than their conversation" Remember, MARY, that it is the second word that makes the quarrel. In thy intercourse with the world " be not easily exceptions, nor given to contradiction, for this occasions contention ; nor be rudely fami- liar, for this breeds contempt." " If any thing be not fitting, do it not : if it be not true, speak it not." Our tempers are frequently more easily discovered in little circumstances than in great ones. True Christians keep their temper on all occasions without any unbecoming warmth. You remember when the disciples of our Saviour were in a flame of resentment against the Sama- ritans, he rebuked them by saying, " Ye know not what spirit ye are of." An obliging disposition will always engage the attention of thy superiors; and take heed, MARY, G3 130 that as thou wouldst think it cruel to be con- demned as ill-natured, for being sometimes off thy guard, or out of humour, so as to express a hasty peevishness, do not expect perfection in others. This instruction is more particularly necessary in thy station, for as servants are more ready to make remarks on this subject than masters imagine they do, themselves should likewise be the more attentive to thsir own conduct, not to offend. DISCOURSE XIX. AND now that I am going to give thee rules for thy general conduct in life, remember that generosity ceases to be a virtue when it entices us to do offices of kindness beyond our power. Our virtues, as expressed in action, must be suited to our circumstances. The mind may vetain a readiness of disposition to serve others, and so far be as fruitful as the rain which cometh down from the heavens ; but where there is no water in the clouds, none can fall upon the earth. Whatever is in thy power, let it flow from a free hand and an open heart. The humblest 131 actions sometimes- carry vrith them a greatness of mind, superior even to the bounties of kings, and we must be contented when it pleases Pro- vidence to restrain us with regard to the means of relieving others, and think with gratitude of the relief we receive ourselves, still maintaining the generosity of our minds. The more prudent thou art, the more able thou wilt always be to assist any one who is in particular distress. Every one has some power; and as the widow's mite was considered by the Son of God as a great charity, thy little contri- bution may be useful to the distressed, and acceptable in his sight who sees the heart. If it happen that thou hast nothing which thou canst spare, God will accept the thoughts of the- heart. A tear offered up to misery, where only a tear can flow, will be pleasing to the tender Father of mankind, who in such cases accepts the will for the deed. When you can do it with a pro- bability of success, and with good manners, remember it is as essential a part of charity to warn people of danger to their souls, as it is to preserve their bodies. These are duties clearly deducible from the uniform conduct of our Saviour. It is better to be of a generous mind, though of the number of those who stand in need of relief, than of a hard-hearted disposition, though 132 in plenty. The same charity which among Christians makes men humble, just and watchful, to do all the good and avoid all the evil possible, makes them also courteous and obliging : and nothing can be more certain than one may be very charitable without having any thing to give, and very uncharitable, and yet, as St. Paul says, give one's body to be burnt. Chanty, as comprehending Christian love, is so absolutely commanded, and is truly so much the bond of society, that the neglect of it can never be dispensed with. And what can exceed the pleasure of seeing others made happy, except the making them so by our own means ? By taking a share in the miseries of others, we ren- der wretchedness the more supportable; whereas plenty amidst the frowns and contempt of the world, is but a splendid kind of misery. The miser is of all characters in the world, the most hated. There are various ways of being chari- table, besides giving money, and even in that respeqt much may be done by a very moderate fortune, where self-denial is used, and the heart is sincerely inclined. Thou hast often heard me mention Mrs. Ann Saracen. She lives in a cottage of three pounds' annual rent, but it is as neat and clean as any palace. When she dines at home, she feeds on the value of about threepence; she eats and 133 drinks of any wholesome aliment that comes in her way, but with such moderation, she never hurts her health by excess. From long experience, she understands the quality of many drugs, and the use of kitchen physic, dispensing the former with great judg- ment and success. By the superiority of her understanding, she is able to instruct her poor neighbours, influencing them by reason, and the books which she gives them to read. She visits prisons, and converses with condemned male- factors. She puts children to school, and employs them in needle-work, partly by making up old linen, which she begs of her rich acquaintance: this she again devotes to the use of the indigent, by assisting them with child-bed-linen; which is returned clean to her after it hath been used, and the same serves for the birth of many chil- dren. A 11 this is performed within the bounds of forty pounds a year. Thus amidst the checks of a scanty fortune, she acts like a gentlewoman and a Christian ; shining like a star to guide the poor, the afflicted, and the weary, to rest and comfort. When you praise her for her good deeds, she contracts herself like the sensitive plant, constantly referring whatever is excellent to God, who is the only true fountain of all excellence. She says moreover, " What do I that every Christian woman who is mistress of her time and 134 fortune would not do? If I am so fortunate as to have the favour of my superiors, I think I lay them under an obligation when I offer an oppor- tunity of their doing good. He that neglects such an occasion defraudeth his own soul. If I plead the cause of poor creatures who dare not appear to speak for themselves, I am so far an advocate in the cause of heaven, and act as a steward to the family of God. I must use the talents my Master has intrusted me with ; and when I have 4 on e, give the glory to that Being who is graciously pleased to make me the in- strument of his mercy. In this view I think myself preferred to a higher employment, than if I were the first lady of the bed-chamber to the queen. If the fine world be infatuated with such trifles as dress and diversion, and make these the business of their lives ; if the gay are carried on, as it were, by a resistless stream, swimming on the surface in a delightful phrenzy, and careless of the gulph which may swallow them up; what can I do more than send up my petitions to the throne of grace that their eyes may be opened to see their danger, and recovering their strength, get on shore in safety, if so it shall please the Almighty to avert his judgments? The world will be governed by appearances: happy are those who discern realities ;" and the time is surely drawing nigh when attainments in holiness will alone be of any avail, and when 135 those who have " turned many to righteousness will shine as the stars for ever and ever." MARY, what dost thou think of this character ; is it not charming? Yet such should we all be, if we were practically Christians ! I often think, MARY, when I take my rounds amongst my sick and poor neighbours, whose wants are greater than I can relieve ; I often think that if they to whom Providence has given affluence would but accustom themselves to be spectators of the miseries of vast numbers below them, they would surely sacrifice a little more to humanity and charity, and would not offer quite so much incense to the lust of the eye, and the pride of life. Thy mistress is a lady admirably inclined to offices of piety and humanity. Entreat her leave to inform her what thou knowest to be true, in regard to misery and distress. She will judge of what she ought to do.- She will not withhold her bread from the fartherless who are dying with hunger, nor behold those who are perishing for want of clothing, expire at her gates : She will not- make gold her confidence: The land will not cry against her, nor the furrows thereof complain ; but she will have mercy on the poor. Forget not, O my daughter, that charity will endure when time itself shall cease. O-my daughter, the earth, and all that we see of the objects around us, even the heavens, which are 136 the canopy of it, will pass away; faith will be swallowed up in sight, and hope cease with enjoyment: but charity is so divine and pure in its nature, that it will constitute part of the joys of heaven. DISCOURSE XX. THE connexion between thy mistress and thee is a solemn contract for mutual benefit ; and it is necessary each should be informed, and truly understand, what the other requires, that the discharge of this obligation with candour and justice may create mutual kindness with regard. In some countries servants are treated as slaves ; but we are all free, and our treatment is suited to our liberty. Some masters have a propensity to tyranny, and some servants are much inclined to insolence and disobedience ; but this proves nothing more than there are bad people in all conditions, and that the good ought to be -the more careful and vigilant in the exertion of those social virtues on which the general benefit of mankind so much depends. Thy first thought should be, not to put thy 137 master or mistress to an unnecessary expense ; yet nothing can be a grearer temptation to this, than the very reason that makes most against it, namely, the carelessness or ignorance of a master or mistress which render them subject to become a prey. Let me charge thee to be strictly on thy guard to take no advantage, or do any thing unjustifiable, because thou mayst perhaps be able to do it, and not be discovered. Fraud in this case would be an aggravation of guilt, a cruelty added to in- justice, and treachery to infidelity. There are some families who know well their income and expense, and are yet hurried on by custom and habit to live in perpetual distress for want of the means of such a supply as is necessary to put them on a level with those who are their most constant companions. Little dost thou know of the anxiety which attends the condition of many a master and mis- tress, to support their rank, in the maintenance of their servants: thou wouldst not envy them, if thou couldst see their hearts. As a faithful servant, rejoice to see thy mistress prudent, though thou couldst benefit much by her being extravagant. Thou wouldst be astonished, MARY, if I were to relate to thee a quarter part of what I know, in relation to the devastation of peoples' for- tunes, in keeping more servants than they can 138 afford, or by leaving things entirely to their management. If thou shouldst become an upper servant, or act in any capacity of trust, be equally just and exact ; nor, from a mistaken notion of charity, suffer the poor to be fed from the table of thy mistress without her leave, which on thy part would be downright dishonesty. Look upon every penny of thy mistress's money to be sacred and touch not a farthing for thine own use, though thou shouldst mean to replace it. Set down what thou receivest immediately on the spot ; and commit to writing what thou art paying, even before the money is out of thy hand. Do not trust thy memory as some do, lest thou should lose thy money, or charge at random. In regard to honesty thou canst not be too scrupulously strict. William Stitch found in the pocket ol Lord Noble's waistcoat, which had been put into his hands to new button, a bank- note of a hundred pounds. \\ illiam brought it home, and desired to see my Lord ; an , being admitted . into his presence, told him what he had found, and that he did not choose to deliver it to any one hut his lordship. 'I his noble lord commended his honesty, and desired William to accept of five guineas. " What, my Lord," says he, "take money for being honest! No; the 139 satisfaction of my own mind for doing my duty is a reward that abundantly repays me. God forbid that I should be ever tempted to withhold another man's right, or expect a reward for doing him justice !" Inquire of those who can teach thee the best and exactest method in accounts. Method is of such importance in accounts, that it stands next in rank to the fairness and justness of them ; and the more plain and easy these are to be read and understood, the more wilt thou be recom- mended to greater trust, and acquit thyself with the more honour. Carry this in thy mind, that as good masters and mistresses generally make good servants, so good servants not only preserve the tranquillity of families, hut frequently are the means of saving them from ruin. My masrer once told me of a friend of his who was obliged by misfortunes to contract his expenses. He had given credit to some of his acquaintance, who violated the most sacred ties of confidence between man and man, and left him in distress. In this situation, he was obliged in his old age, to discard all his domestics. Servants are generally ac- quainted with their masters' circumstances. This gentleman made no secret of his, he told them why he paid them off. One of them burst into tears upon the occasion, and spoke to him in these terms : " Sir, I have been your chambermaid 140 now five-and-twenty years. I have always hon- oured and respected you ; you have treated me with the greatest kindness of a master, a father, and a friend. I have saved some scores of pounds in your service, that 1 might neither die for want' nor depend upon the parish for my support ; but I can never live in peace whilst I think that you are in any kind of distress. To you, under the good care of Providence, I owe my life : to you I am indebted for much good instruction for the safety of my soul. I beg you will accept of my purse, and all it contains ; it is the bounty of heaven, and in heaven I trust. He that feedetK the ravens, and letteth not a sparrow fall unheeded to the ground, will not forsake me. I am yet able to go to service ; suffer me to attend your fortunes, and be your servant still ; perhaps you may not find one more faithful and affectionate !" They called her Theodosia Hope. She drew tears from her old master. He was not too proud to weep at the generosity of his servant, though he bore his misfortunes with fortitude, and found that resignation of mind is a more lasting fund of solid satisfaction than all the wealth of the Indies. Theodosia's offer of her service was accepted, and she remained with him. Not long after* a relation of his died and left him a good fortune; and when he died, he bequeathed her a very comfortable maintenance, 141 Her mother was an excellent woman; she lived to the uncommon good age of 101 ; she will be recorded in story, as long as marble shall endure, in these words.* Let it be remembered, That there is no station in which industry Will not obtain power to be liberal ; Nor any character on which liberality Will not confer honour. She had been long prepared, By a simple and unaffected piety, For that awful moment, Which, however delayed, is universally sure. How few are allowed an equal time of probation ! How many by their lives presume upon more ! To perpetuate the memory of this person, But yet more to perpetuate the lesson of her life, This stone was erected by voluntary contributions. If a servant is capable of the duty required, and the master not tyrannical, neither of them should be disturbed by little incidents. Each should make a candid allowance for the other's frailties. If master and servant dislike each other, or a servant is really unfit for a place, let ..them part with good wishes for their mutual prosperity. My master used to remark, that " the more servants a man keeps, the more spies he has oh * This ralates to the character of Elizabeth Monk, engraved upon a stone in Bromley church-yard, in Kent. him ;" and expressed his astonishment that any person should make work for many servants, or keep them from work, in order to make up a train. Solomon's advice to the master is, " Be not excessive towards any, and without discretion do nothing." And, speaking of a good servant, he says, " If thou hast a servant, entreat him as a brother, for thou hast need of him as of thine own soul; and if thou entreat him evil he will' run from thee ; and which way wilt thou go to seek him?" So far regards the common duty of humanity. But in order to understand this matter, MARY, observe what the same man of wisdom tells us in regard to the prudence of a master : *' If thou set thy servant to labour, thou shalt find rest; but if thou let him go idle, he shall seek liberty. Set him to work as is fit for him : if he be not obedient, put on more heavy fetters." It is very evident what is meant by heavy fetters ; he should be more confined for his own sake, as well as his master's. Disobedience and pride naturally produce idleness, and " idleness is the key of beggary." A servant may com- plain, but he who does not learn to obey as a servant ought, will hardly ever command as ,a master ought. The proverb says, an " ill servant will never make a good master." Humility is a virtue required in all stations, 143 but a proud servant of all God's creatures is the strangest inconsistency. Pride and vanity lead to the depths of distress. Half the wretched beings of thy sex, who live on the deplorable wages of iniquity for the short time they live at all, owe their being .discharged out of service to pride. Submission is another branch of the same duty. St. Peter recommends to us, with the force of a divine commandment, " Servants be subject to your masters with all fear, not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward : for this is thank-worthy, if a man, for conscience towards God, endure grief, suffer wrongfully. For what glory is it, if when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently ? But if when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God." This advice, which recommends patience and forbearance to the servant, does not authorize any tyrannical or inhuman conduct on the part of the master. It checks the resentments of the servant from flaming into rage or revenge, and teaches him to compassionate a master's infir- mities ; but it does not take away the servant's right of leaving a service, or appealing to the laws of his country, for any unjustifiable conduct on the part of the master. There are cases in which it is necessary " the knee should bow, though the understanding cannot."- This depends 144 on the prudence of a servant, as well as his com- prehension of the true nature of his situation. Always consider calmly what the evil is, and what the remedy may be. " He that shoots at the stars may hurt himself, but cannot endanger them." A master or mistress may admonish once or twice or thrice, but a continued repetition of the same faults or inadvertencies will tire out the most patient. My master was of a quick temper, and some- times said what he might as well have omitted ; but he was of a humane, friendly and pious dis- position, and generally corrected himself. He overlooked many of my faults, and therefore I was the more patient under his. If thy mistress is of a lively, quick temper, thou wilt often think her impatient, though she should have the patience to tell thee ten times a day of the same fault : but I charge thee to beware of impatience, lest thou shouldst make a pert reply, and at once show thyself ill-mannered and ungrateful, and ruin thyself in her favour. My advice to thee is, that instead of resenting thou shouldst learn to compassionate. Do not imagine that mercy and compassion were made to be exercised only by the great and wealthy towards inferiors; the rich and powerful them- selves are frequently as great objects -of pity as those who beg their bread. By no means pretend to be so wise as thy mistress : if there should be 145 good reason for believing thyself to be in the right, and her in the wrong, yet remember how much the chance is against thee, not only from thy want of age and experience, but from the lowness of thy education, and the want of those means of obtaining knowledge which she has enjoyed. Above all things avoid expostulation with thy mistress. It is too common a trick with pas- sionate persons, when reproached, to tell masters and mistresses that they understand their busi- ness, forgetting that their chief business is to obey. Consider what thou mayst lose, and how improbable it is that thou shouldst gain any thing by pert replies, and the gratification of talking. No master or mistress of spirit will bear to be flatly contradicted by a servant, or to argue with them about indifferent matters. In cases wherein thy virtue is not hurt, their plea- sure should be thy law, never forgetting any thing that materially affects their interest. If any difficulty arise in matters of fact, there is a humble way of asking leave to acquaint them how the case really stands. If thou art accused of any thing, as a fault, which thou really thinkest to be such, the honest confession is the surest way of obtaining pardon. It is good policy to observe attentively the temper a party is in, at a time when accidents happen. Use thy discretion in all things : forget not to H 146 avoid whatever has the appearance of sullenness, arid make ready and direct answers, to the best of thy knowledge and belief, looking calmly on the pferson thou art speaking to. To mean well is one half the business, and patience the other. If thou wert to lend an ear to many servants, thou wouldst say that they ought to sit at the head of the table instead of waiting at it. DISCOURSE XXI. IN these days of pleasure and dissipation, MARY, the most, part of the nobility and gentry of this island carry their families to London, where servants entertain each other with accounts of profitable places ; as, how much wages some have more than others. These do not consider so much the comfort and peace, the safety and good treatment they enjoy, as how much they can get, for it is not the lot of one in a thousand to be in such services as are represented to them ; nor perhaps to have abilities to keep such places, if they could get them. They are apt to judge of the best places, as people do of the greatest prize in a lottery ; and in hunting after an imagi- nary good, often plunge themselves into a real 147 evil. Let me advise thee to be contented, and learn when thou art well, ^nd not desrre to be better than well. If thou find good treatment, let this be considered as superior to any such additional wages, as thou mightst have the for- tune to obtain. In thy situation, as a very young woman, a fondness for change can hardly fail to produce mischief. I do not say but that in due time thou mayst naturally expect an increase of wages. If thou shouldst become a favourite, employ thy influence to keep peace in the family. Make open profession of thy resolution at once to be true to thy mistress, but not the less a friend to thy fellow-servants, when they do their duty. In all cases of difficulty let thy mistress be acquainted, and entreat of her to decide the matter. In any case favourites are generally more feared than loved : and more intrigues are formed to ensnare them than thou canst suspect. Our good qualities often expose us to more hatred and persecution than all the evil we do ; and yet it is not the less true that " honesty is the best policy." Truth will prevail in the issue ; and it is thy duty to do the best thou canst, fairly and honestly, to promote thy own welfare. If unhappily any of thy fellow-servants are emissive in their duty, remind them in civil and obliging terms. If they will not take the advice, thou hast nevertheless discharged thy duty. H 2 148 When evil consequences follow, by their not regarding thee, do not aggravate their misfortunes by taunts and reproaches, as weak-minded people sometimes do. All that should be said is, " / wish you had been of my opinion" Soft words and ready answers, with a noble ingenuousness, have a magic power to calm the most perverse.' If thou find any fellow-servant as well inclined as thyself, be her friend ; but from the moment she is guilty of any fraud or injustice, or enter- tains thee with discourse against the person whose bread thou art eating, thou maysf sus- pect that she is foolish, ignorant or perverse. It should be thy part to soften such discourse, and palliate the real faults, much more the foibles, of thy mistress ; but if thou condemn her when she is blameless, thou art guilty of injustice as well as ingratitude. Thou wilt generally find that those who com- plain most of others are most blamable them- selves. Reason calmly with them ; advise them to consider the condition of their service, to represent their grievances, not to condemn their judge before they appeal to him for justice. As I have the happiness to be known to the lady who will take thee as a servant into her family, 1 promise myself it will be so much the better for thee if thou art not wanting to thyself. She spoke in such obliging terms, and promised me so generously to be thy friend if thou de- 149 serve, that I hope she will be as a mother to thee. She will probably tell thee, " she knows thy father to be an honest man, and that she hath a respect for him, and if thou art a true daughter of his that thou wilt be a faithful and good ser- vant to her, and if thy conduct sheweth that thou art, thou mayst be assured of her friendship." Now, my daughter, if thou shouldst set out with such prepossession in thy favour, it will be a happy omen of success. There are some people whose thoughts are so dissipated, that one must repeat the same words, before they are awake enough to know what is said to them. This is a great unhappiness, and very irksome to a master; but it is not altogether incurable ; for if the servant have any delight in doing her duty, she will be attentive to the com- mands to which she is bound by every tie to be obedient. I have already mentioned to thee that one thing necessary to awaken attention is, to look at the person who is speaking to thee. The countenance demands respect, and helps the un- derstanding ; and seeing the motion of another's lips assists the hearing; whereas the want of this kind of attention is ill-mannered even among equals, and much more from a servant. Always take the first opportunity of mentioning what is necessary, particularly in cases wherein 150 thoti hast been commanded to do any thing, or hast received any message. Take for granted that thy mistress will not be informed of what relates to her interest and thy own duty, unless tho*i tell her, and consider it as injustice and breach of duty to keep her in ignorance. If thy memory is treacherous, keep a memo- randum book, and -by one act of recollection, which is to look into thy book, thou mayst be sure that nothing will be omitted. But as memory depends on the exercise of it, such assistance may be unnecessary, unless it relate to business to be done at some distance of time, or when there are too many particulars for the memory to retain. Experience must teach what confidence to place in thy memory, and what aasistanees are necessary to it. Never put off any business to any distant hour, but perform what thou canst immi diately. Take care not to shuffle or equivocate upon being -accused of negligence. The more con- cious thou art of neglect, the more thou shouldst beg pardon. But of all pretences, such as / thought this or that, when in truth thou didst not think at ail, are abominable in the sight of God, and virtuous persons. Dirt and fitthiness fall within the observation of every one ; but neatness and cleanliness, like comeliness in person, are silent recommendations. 151 These are to the body what purity is to the soul. Every young woman of sentiment naturally aspires at making a cleanly appearance. The decent and cleanly carry with them a pre- sumptive proof of a virtuous disposition. Industry is generally the companion of cleanliness. Even a cleanly beggar naturally engages a much higher attention than a dirty one. Consider what is proper to thine own condition, yet rather err on the cleanly side. A slovenly good servant of either sex is a contradiction. I must not conclude this discourse without warning thee ofc the many fatal accidents which happen by fire. Nine in ten are the eflects. of downright carelessness, and generally of servants, either from being in liquor, from gross ignorance, or unpardonable- thoughtlessness. I charge thee to consider what misfortunes, and miseries may be brought on others by this element, which is SQ admirable a servant and so terrible a master. Pestilence, sword and famine, do not make such sudden and outrageous havock as fire. There are some particulars, MARY, which, through the whole course of my life, I have observed with great exactness. Not to leave chimneys too long unswept. Not to burn papers, or by any other way to make a great blaze in the fire-place. Not to leave a drawing stove covered. Not to leave a poker in a fire. Not to leave a randle burning in a room. Not to leave linen 159 airing near a fire. Not to bring a lighted candle into a closet. Not to be any way busy with a candle where there is linen or paper. Not to carry a candle into a stable without a lantern. Not to venture even the lantern and candle in a hay-loft. And where the floor of any room is grown spongy and combustible by age, to keep the part so affected covered with something woollen, lest a spark should fall on it from the candle. In going to bed, use a short candle and a large flat candlestick, taking care in both cases never to be without an extinguisher ; and not to bring a lighted candle near a bed. These are rules which 1 recommend to th'ee to be observed, as thou regard est thy duty to God and thy neigh- bour, and as thou meanest to avoid the punish- ment which the laws of the land inflict on the careless as well as the wilful. DISCOURSE XXII. TEMPERANCE, MARY, is the friend to reason, the companion to religion, the child of virtue, and the parent of health. The wise man says, *' Sound sleep cometh of moderate eating, he riseth early and his wits are about him ; but the 153 pains of watching and choler, and pangs of the belly, are with an insatiable man." Nature is relieved by a little good food taken in t me, and we grow strong and healthy ; bijt eating above measure destroy eth health, wounds peace, and banisheth comfort from our hearts. Many act as if eating were their paradise. Regard not thy taste above measure, but acquire a habit of indifference : hunger will relish the plainest food, and thou wilt take the properest quantity. Daintiness in diet, in people of fortune, makes them contemptible : it is a proof of a sickly mind much oftener than it is required by a sickly body. But when servants are dainty, and not contented with common food, they betray their depraved inclinations, and become a nuisance to a family. High-cooked dishes are poisonous, they inflame the blood. SOLOMON'S advice is, " Eat as becometh thee such things as are set before thee, and devour not lest thou be hated." Consult the pleasure of others as well as thine own, and be not impatient to seize thy food, nor eat it faster than is decent and wholesome. In general we eat much too fast; and this acts doubly against us, for by such means we are the more easily betrayed into eating too much. Beer is our common liquor, and, when good in its kind, is excellent for those who work hard; but the pure element which nature affords, being H3 154 likewise good of its kind, is the grand medicine as well as an aliment of life. Hast thou not heard how it removes the fatal effects of intem- perance? What crowds of the miserable rich go to water-drinking places and recover, and then return to their former way of living, and die ten or twenty years sooner than they might, entailing the gout and other disorders on their children ! I have learnt by experience that water is the best preservative from diseases ; but people may drown their bowels by drinking too much of it. Even bad water may be rendered wholesome by boiling and infusing herbs of our own growth, * After mentioning the infusion of our own herbs, I cannot avoid taking notice how mankind grow fantastic in their appetites. Thou hast heard of a Chinese drug called tea, which for many years past some people have drunk because others did ; which numbers now condemn as hurtful to them, yet use it ; which people of the most different constitutions take in common ; and * Ground-ivy r mint, sage, or rosemary, being dried and infused in boiling water, and drunk cold, either of these infusions, commonly called tea, is incomparably better than bad sAall-beer, which the poor often drink ; and they would esteem it, but that the herbs are not properly gathered and dried, and the infusion is usually made too strong. I am now supposing places where water is not good ; but in England we are for the most part happy in this particular. 155 with which I have no doubt many destroy their health, even granting that it may be good for some, and that a little poison kill none. Servants also run mad about tea ; they spend a large por- tion of their wages in it, and squander too great a part of their time. As to the poor, they are stupidly insensible how they are galled in their health by the bad sort of tea which they often drink, by the habit of sipping instead of drinking, and by using so much hot liquor when cold would answer better to invigorate them. They also consume a large portion of their time, and their gains by hard labour make themselves wings and fty to China for this bitter draught, Would to God that they were wise enough to spend their money in sub- stantial food and raiment ! The single article of butter, which our fore- fathers used to eat only as a dainty, is become necessary to tea-drinking, though this also is as ill-suited to some constitutions as the tea itself. Female servants, like other people, have a right to their share of the improvements which time and riches, skill and industry, have made. But I am afraid, MARY, we travel too fast; young women in service aspire to dress too much like their mistresses, which gives them a wrong turn. If thy mistress should give thee any of her own clothes, consider what is proper for thee to wear, and in what shape, and what to sell. 156 Let me next warn thee against the deadly ef- fect of air, when rendered corrupt by too many people being in a place, or by being too much confined. The poor are happy that their doors and windows are seldom very tight, yet they are frequently kept shut when they should be open. Nature is so indulgent to us, that a minute will change the mass of air in a small room. Chimney- boards are also hurtful, as obstructing the free circulation of air. Even in the extremity of cold, the sleeping in a small room, with the chimney thus shut up, I have found to be very hurtful. When the poor are sick, they imagine that warmth is so necessary to their cure, that they frequently poison themselves with their own confined air. I have often lamented the hard fate of young ladies, in the height of their charms, who, if they had been farmers' daughters, or not poisoned in a bad air, nor chilled by flimsy coverings, might have lived to old age. My dear MARY, avoid shows in close places, and all such foolish enter- tainments, as are not worth the hazard of health to any body in their senses. 157 DISCOURSE XXIII. IT is the duty, my daughter, of every one to make the mqst of their education : in this free country, where women have the same privileges as men, they may with the same propriety be taught to read. The men who do the hard labour and drud- gery of life are not the most instructed, and therefore it becomes the more beneficial to a family that a wife should be able to assist the husband. If she is in any degree qualified to instruct her children, whilst the father is in the field, she will save so much, and probably teach them better than any old woman in the neigh- bourhood could do. We are commanded to read the Scriptures, and, for the same reason, obliged to teach our children to read. If all of us were so taught, no one could pretend to be above laborious employ- ments, for we should know, from the word of God, that labour is the condition of human life. The wisdom, which is the glory, of human na- ture, is within the compass of us all. The great end of learning, my dear MARY, " is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and obey him." Thou wilt perceive that in most instances which concern God, we cannot carry our thoughts so high, or find language proper to express them, 158 but as we borrow words from sense. The Scrip- tures, which were written for our learning, speak of the anger and love, the hands and the eyes, of God ; at the game time that we ^re to guard against gross conceptions, as we know that God is a Spirit, not visible to mortal eyes, infinite in purity, and devoid of passion. Such wisdom will avail us, when all the learning that our superiors can boast of, if not applied to the same purposes, or made a bad use of, will leave them in a much worse condition than if they had re- mained in the grossest ignorance. However necessary reading may be to learn our duty to our Maker, and occasionally to em- ploy our hearts agreeably to his will, as contained in the holy Scriptures, the same cannot be said of writing. It seems reasonable, in our rank ai\d condition, that women should be taught to write rather than men, and the more, as the duties of a shop may in general be as well performed by a woman as a man. In any case, a woman may be of equal service to receive or pay, take in or deliver out by weight or measure ; but she cannot act the part of a sailor or soldier, nor do the business of a ploughman, a carpenter, a smith, or a bricklayer. " Prudence is an universal virtue, which enters into the composition of all the rest. Judgment is its throne, and silence its sanctuary." Young people are more prodigal than old ones. Whether 159 thou hast little or much, take care of it, and do not expend it in vanity. Money may stand thy friend, when others fail thee. The caution holds stronger for those who have but little, than for those who have a great deal. In money affairs, MARY, remember that " often counting makes good friends." Charity seems to forbid our mistrusting any one, yet there can be no doubt but that it would be madness to trust those with thy goods or thy person who shew no fear of God, nor respect for the laws of their country. Let them talk as they please, " deeds are fruit ; words are but leaves," The more lavish such persons are in their pro- mises, the less they are to be depended on. The innocent silly lamb in the fable, was so credulous, that the wolf persuaded him he did not feed on flesh, as was vulgarly imagined, but on green pastures. " Why then," says the lamb, " we may as well feed together;" and' creeping from within his inclosure, joined the wolf, to be devoured, as you may easily imagine. Nay, I am sorry to tell thee, MARY, that it is no strange thing for people to put on the disguise of piety and religion, the better to ensnare those who, being honest and upright themselves, think well of the rest of mankind. Women who are really modest never make a boast of modesty, for that is in effect being immodest. A true sense of shame is founded on 1GO virtue, for we ought to blush in secret even at a thought which religion condemns. Cultivate such purity of mind, as may render thee accept- able to him, in whose eyes thy heart is open. Whatever thy company may be, take care not to offend against modesty, by any words or action; and avoid giving any smile of approbation, when words of a double meaning are spoken ; and still more if they are in direct terms indecent. Jest not against the rules of good manners ; rather study how to be useful to thy companions, than how to divert them. Solid sense is preferable to wit; the first is always beneficial, the last seldom fails to be dangerous. The wise man says, " If thou be invited of a mighty man, withdraw thyself, and so much the more will he invite thee :" intimating that modesty towards superiors is the ready way to be treated with respect. In the same mannner, when thou art conscious of ignorance, or when prudence forbids thee to speak, talking will at once dis- cover thy want of sense, as well as modesty. '* Too great a distrust of oneself, produces a base fear, which, depriving a man of his liberty and assurance, makes our reasonings weak, our words trembling, and our actions faint." But observe, that there is the same difference between assu- rance, considered as a reasonable confidence in what we say or do, and impudence, as between true modesty and bashfulness. 1G1 Those who desire to do what is commendable, and yet from bashfulness cannot shew themselves to the world, ought not be angry with it, if others less deserving promote their fortune in a more effectual manner. DISCOURSE XXIV. FRIENDSHIP being the strongest obligation to the practice of virtue, as it regards particular persons, and the greatest comfort amidst the various calamities of life, whatever thy fortune may otherwise be, I hope, MARY, thou wilt find a friend. There are not many who have sense and virtue enough to be capable of true friendship, therefore be careful with whom thou contractest an inti- macy. Sincerity of heartand freedom of behaviour often pass for friendship ; but to be a friend it is necessary to have a good temper and a steadiness of mind, with such a degree of knowledge as may enable one to give and take advice. Friends mutually compassionate each other, and they must render themselves a mutual support. They should never say or do any thing harshly when the same thing can be done with tenderness. If thou shouldst ever have a friend, avoid all such 162 kind of discourse in company as may undervalue her, though it should exalt thyself. Do not presume on any friendship so far as to use words of contempt or derision, lest thou shouldst give wounds which may not be so easily healed. Thou wilt easily judge how rarely such are to be found, to whom we may open our hearts without reserve, and without danger. O MARY, *' a faithful friend is a strong defence, and he thathath found such an one hath found a treasure." Friendship, such as we frequently find among virtuous persons, lightens our sorrows, and in- creases our joys ; warns us in danger, and delivers us in distress. The wealth of the world cannot fill up the measure of our wishes for a partner in our hearts; such wishes being implanted in nature. SOLOMON says, "all flesh consorteth according 'tp Hind, and a man will cleave to his like" Death itself hath been sought in friendship, and one hath contended with another, desiring to die himself to preserve his friend. I cannot tell but that the same may have happened among women. A slight acquaintance is apt to lead the unwary into intimacies, which often prove deadly in their consequences. Nothing is so dangerous as the pretended friendship of bad people: I say pretended friendship, for that which is real cannot exist upon bad principles. The counsel and advice of persons of superior knowledge and virtue, and who thou hast reason to believe are sincerely in- 163 terested for thy welfare, should make thee ambi- tieus, of rendering thyself worthy of their esteem, and perhaps in the issue these will prove thy best friends. SOLOMON tells thee, " Love thy friend, and be faithful unto him ; but if he betray thy secrets, follow no more after him, for he is a roe escaped out of the snare." Shame, or fear of thy resent- ment, will make him rly thee. Disclosing a secret under circumstances of the greatest temp- tation, will make a breach; but it may be closed by great repentance on one side, or great compas-* sion on ttie other. As to friendship with a woman of a blemished character, shun this, or thou wilt be suspected of entertaining the same sentiments. Young women are warm in their intimacies, and apt to shew more distinction to each other, as friends, than is consistent with civility to the rest of the world : such appearances should likewise be avoided. . If thou should happen to break with thy friend shew thy sorrow by thy silence ; and not, like a silly faithless girl, blab out all thou knowest of her. This is as wicked as it is weak, since thou wert trusted on thine honour without any condi- tion. Let her do as she pleases ; be thou fixed as a rock that stands the utmost force of dashing- waves or storms and tempests. My dear MARY, observe these rules! Be slow 164 in choosing a friend, and slower still to change, Be courteous to all ; intimate with few. Slight none for their low condition, nor esteem any for their wealth and greatness. Be not surprised nor dismayed, to hear plausible excuses, from those who are unwilling to do thee a service, if on the presumption of friendship, thou should venture to ask a kindness. In no case owe an obligation to one whom thou believest to be wickedj Never suppress that tenderness with which a good heart naturally overflows, when those whom thou hast ever esteemed are in real distress. Love, when supported by the judgment, seems to include friendships but in regard to friendship between the sexes, in youth it is rarely to be found, without a mixture of love on one side or the other; I mean that tenderness which is so na- tural to the heart. Among the elder, indeed, the flame may be so gentle and lambent as to change its name ; and when it is founded upon right principles, that is, when it takes, its rise from a heart-felt esteem for amiable and virtuous qualities, such as the piety, the integrity, the self-government, the benevolence, of our friend ; and when our affection "is further cemented by the exertion of these virtue.8, not in self-indul- gencies, but for the good of all to whom our kind offices can in any way extend, then may We be certain that such friendships will not expire with age, or be terminated by death ; for IG5 Christians are instructed " not to sorrow as those that have no hope." We may therefore rest assured, that such friendships will be revived and perpetuated in the future world ; and, indeed, without the prospect and hope of this, even heaven itself woul lose one of its sweetest attractions. Moreover, the bearing in mind con- tinually this hope and expectation, is of powerful efficacy to purify and exalt our affections, to animate our zeal in the Christian course, and to be especially concerned not to mix any thing in our friendships that will not bear the holy eye of God. As I would not omit any subject in which thou mayst be interested, I will put thee yet more on thy guard with respect to love; for, as this is well or ill-directed, it may render thee happy or miserable. Those who become wretched by this affection, plead that other passions are for the most part of a malignant kind ; but let me tell thee, MAKY, when the mind is infected with love, there is nothing so serious or comic, so generous or base, which may not directly or remotely proceed from it. The proverb says, " Follow love and it will flee thee ; flee love and it will follow thee." If this teaches modesty, it also informs us- that there is much folly and caprice in love. When we ascribe to the persons beloved qualities they do not possess, we, in effect, fall in love with the creature of our own 166 brain ; and this I take to be. no uncommon case. In our ordinary acquaintance, and yet more in our friendships, it is hardly probable but that the persons and conversation of some people should be more pleasing and delightful to us than those of others ; but to be unhappy because we are not in the company of a particular person, is at once a proof of love, and not less of the foolishness of that heart, the pleasures of which are so narrowly circumscribed. It is not uncommon for a woman to imagine herself the object of a man's love, whether she desires to be so or not ; as vain men often mis- take the civilities of women for love. Thou, my daughter, mayst be subject to a double assault^ either by the reality of thy affection or the vanity of a man ; and as a great part of my sex is not remarkable for honesty in love, thou shouldst be so much the more suspicious and doubly on thy guard. Nothing is so common in love as believing absurdities which favour the passions, except the lavish professions which are made on such occa- sions ; and hence arises the danger. The language of passion may sometimes express the integrity of the heart, yet it is not to be trusted without great caution ; and she who makes no preparation for a retreat in case of danger may be obliged to surrender at discretion, and find herself at length 167 in the hands of an enemy instead of a ftiend. Remember that nothing is more dangerous, in thy condition, than the unjust accusations -of a wicked man, except the professions of his love, by which he may shew fortfi his highest insolence. However blamable many an honest girl may have been in giving way to her affections, yet, being really honest, she hath preferred present sorrow and disappointment, even although it may have shortened her life, rather than do any thing which virtue forbade. People of the best understanding retain im- pressions longest, and often carry them to the grave. The most benevolent seem the most susceptible of love, and therefore should be most upon their guard. Love, as an affection of the soul which enlarges and improves the mind, holds affinity with angels; as an appetite of the body, it is common to brutes. True love hath its root in virtue. Constancy is united with it ; and where it subsists in the married state, ad- versity cannot divide it from the heart. The foolish and wicked of both sexes generally consort together, and are mutually influenced by each other. Many a young fellow have I seen going to the gallows on the account of a bad woman ! True modesty is equal in both sexes ; but by the custom of the world, -women are obliged to 168 be the most reserved in the discovery of their affections. Whether this is an advantage or not, I cannot tell. Advice is seldom welcome when it crosses a favourite inclination ; but is it not far better to feel a short pain in breaking off a dangerous treaty, than be punished severely all our lives for believing too well of any one against proof? Thou hast heard of some young women, and perhaps a few young men also, who, despairing of an union with their beloved object, or in a fit of frenzy, have done some desperate violence on themselves. Is not this converting love into a child of the devil ? Whether madness be created by a raging fever or a fit of love, it is still madness ; and whether it be in love or hatred, if we trespass against heaven, we shall suffer by it. Love having nothing to do with pomp, our humble condition is less subject to deceit than that of the rich, for people naturally follow affection when they are poor: and those who have no wealth, nor ever had any prospect of living in affluence, have reason to hope they may support love without any other aids than health, industry and virtue : and it certainly is more in favour of love to have no want but of money, than to want every thing but money. A man of a profligate character can never be a true friend to lo\e, whatever a distempered 169 imagination may suggest. The folly of such love will be as great, and probably more bitter in its consequences, than if thou wert to fix thine heart upon a man so much superior in condition as to afford thee no prospect of being united to him. He who his out of thy reach, and he by gaining whom thou wouldst probably lose, are to be avoided with the same care. DISCOURSE XXV. SORRY I am to be constrained to tell thee, MARY, (but it is necessary thou shouldst know the truth,) there are such vile wretches of both sexes on this fair earth as blushen the heavenly face of modesty to think of. Like the devil, they go about seeking whom they can devour; and when they have accomplished their foul ends, they laugh at the misery they have created, and spurn at the object they have deluded into de* struction. Some even traffic in sin, and blot the most beautiful workmanship of heaven with such hideous stains as might draw tears from the stony rock. These evil spirits in human form flatter and promise, and swear as prodigally as if they I 170 were to gain heaven, and are as false as bull, whence their deceitful speeches come ; they present the flattering show of pleasure before the heedless eyes of young women, and draw them on till they fall into the pit of destruction. These enemies to virtue attempt boldly to persuade a young woman that things which are really the worst in the world are the best. Little regarding the curse denounced against those who call evil good, and good evil, they practise the arts of the devil, when under a specious disguise he deceived our first parents. A small portion of sense and reason might shew the fallacy of all arguments, hopes, and expectations, in favour of actions which are contrary to virtue. Listen not to them, but remember " that virtue which parleys is near a surrender." Well do I remember some of my good neigh- bours' daughters whom nothing would please but going up to London, as if they were sure of making their fortunes. Some of them have lived virtuously, single or married, and succeeded in the world ; but it hath fared ill with several of the most distinguished for comeliness. As soon as they arrived in town, they fell into the snares of those abandoned procuresses who, under the pretence of getting them good places, brought them like birds to the net, or lambs to the slaughter ; witness , and , and others, who did not use the precaution, before they left 171 their parents, to correspond with such friends in town as they might trust themselves with till proper places could be provided for them. It is impossible that thou, or any country girl should suspect half the wicked arts which are played off to seduce young females. I must also caution thee, that in all cases, particularly if thou should apply to a public register-office, it will be ne- cessary to inform thyself exactly of the character of the person who proposes to take thee as a servant. I charge thee likewise, as thou lovest thy soul, not to indulge any desire of being gaudily attired. If thou shouldst feel thine heart incline to this vanity, get thyself cured of it as a disease which, if neglected, will provemortal. Childish as this pas- sion is, I know that it hath been the ruin of many thousands, and it may tempt thee to forget those lessons which I have sought so anxiously to im- print on thine heart. From the moment thoufixest thy fancy on dressing like a gentlewoman, I should tremble lest thy destruction should be at hand* What has been the fate of those who seek the trappings of folly as the wages of iniquity ? What numbers of young women, without any other inclination to wickedness, have been undone by the immoderate love of dress and pastime ! My master was not a debauchee, but he had oppor- tunities of knowing what multitudes of young women accomplish their own destruction by the 172 force of this restless vanity. Among abandoned women, intemperance and disease bring on con- sumptions and decay, and few of them live beyond the age of twenty-five. A las, my daughter! how deplorably are those fallen, who thus offer themselves as sacrifices at the altars of vice and impurity ! In all conditions, remember that Christianity requires nothing at our hands more clearly, or in a stronger manner, than chastity or purity ; and this consists in a fixed abhorrence of all forbidden sensual indulgence, in a resolute guard over our thoughts and passions, in a firm abstinence from the most distant occasions of lust and wantonness, in a consciousness or a deep sense of the perfect holiness of God, and of his being present every where. It likewise consists in a conviction of the certain truths of our religion, and that there can be no hope of salvation where this virtue is not cherished. Therefore be not entangled in the snares of deceitful lusts, for these do con- fessedly war against the soul ; and if this is conquered, all is lost ! It is common for mankind to shelter themselves under the flimsy covering of numbers committing sin, as if corporal punishments or ignominious deaths were the less evils because crowds of malefactors are annually condemned to a loath- some prison or the gallows 1 I charge thee, MARY, to be watchful of thy 173 words. Unguarded conversation generally opens the door to mischief; it looks like a design to throw down the barrier of chastity. From the moment thou permittest any man to be thy con- fidant, or al lowest thyself to converse with him alone, except where there is an honourable and suitable treaty approved of by thy friends, it is most natural to conclude there is some danger to such a girl as thyself. On the other hand, thou must exercise some skill in thy reserve, not to appear prudish, and subject thyself to ridicule. People of fortune generally observe a more strict decorum, than the condition of servitude will for the most part admit of; and domestics therefore stand in need of more caution. But without any comparison of conditions, build thy caution on this great principle that human nature is frail ; that religion doth not keep the generality of men in awe, in any degree equal to vyhat might be reasonably expected : rich men are apt to presume on the humble condition of poor girls, to mark them as their prey ; not con- sidering that the soul of a chambermaid is as valuable as the soul of a queen. If you are wise, MARY, let not your fancy loose to think of tying the knot for life, with any man above a farmer, or a tradesman, who is honest and not weak. If any gentleman should honestly or dishonestly commend your person, as if he wished to possess it, let it pass as words which he may be accus- 174 tomed to speak. In the first place, even if it should be his opinion, a truly honest and a gene- rous character would have concealed it; as the avowing of such sentiments, where nothing fur- ther is intended, can only lead either to something rery wrong, or to the makingboth parties unhappy : but if, what is most likely, nothing more is meant than mere flattery, it is then unquestionably a bait thrown out to deceive ; so that at any rate it will be your wisdom to shut your ears and to guard your heart against such addresses. The generosity of men in this case is not to be trusted. I can tell you a very tragic story of this kind, in which I acted a considerable part. The daughter of a yeoman of reputation in this county was seduced by a young gentleman ; he had promised to marry her, and she depended upon his honour. Her father was my old acquaintance, and intreated me to talk to him. I made him a visit, and amongst a variety of arguments told him, that he did not know the mischief he had done adding " I have heard her mournful tale ; I have seen the rising sobs that shake her soul ; her father's pillow is wet with briny tears; and her mother's cheeks redden with shame, whilst indignation prevents the utterance of her griefs ! O shame! shame! that man should fawn, and flatter, and mean what shall I say? Mean to be a villain ? You will pardon me, Sir. That men in such cases act like villians you must grant. 175 Cursed be die pleasure which is dyed BO deep in guilt, and creates so much pain and sorrow !" He told me he would make her a proper al- lowance but coukl not possibly think of marrying her, as he should disoblige his friends, and mar his fortune. She, on the otber hand, was not in want of a decent support, and would not accept his offer. Grief for such ill-treatment threw her into a consumption, and she died in a few months after. When it was too late, indeed, he repented, and was almost raving with the consciousness oi having acted so basely. *' O my friend," he said, " iionr shall L banish from my heart the remembrance of my dear Caroline How shall 1 forget, the last partingcene?" " It is but to die," she said," though it be a death of torture 1 . With my last breath will 1 pray tor your prosperity! It is the decree of heaven- that 1 should be thus chastised ; thy will, O God be done I May the remembrance of my sad fate never disturb your breast, unless it should bleed with sympathetic sorrow for my guilt, and prepare my soul for heaven!" Recollections like these harrowed up his soul. His reason was soon afterwards impaired. He was often seen walking by himself, and bursting into an agony, crying out, " Caroline.' Caroline! I was thy murderer !" He seldom slept above two hours at a time ; and as certain as he awoke, the same thought occurred to his mind. His eyes 176 looked hollow, his lips wore a livid paleness, as if he withered at the heart. His friends carried him into scenes of amusement ; these made him sigh the more. He died soon after with melan- choly. Attend, MARY, and take warning! I am as- sured of thy present iimocency : I know thou dost agonize whilst I am talking thus; but anxious as I am for thy safety, thou wilt forgive me, MARY, if I say too much. We are about to part, and it is fit I should communicate to thee my knowledge of the ways of the world, and the means of shunning the evils of it O my daughter, I now declare to thee, in the awful presence of the God whom I adore, 1 had rather see the blood stream from thy bosom than behold thee, in the arms even of a king, on any terms but an honourable marriage, such as divine and human laws appoint for the virtuous. If thou wert to stray from virtue's sacred paths, though floods of briny tears would fall from thy fond father's eyes, these could not wash thee clean ; but the day would come, when they would rise in judgment against thee. 177 DISCOURSE XXVI. THIS is the last day in which I may ever com- municate my thoughts to thee with such freedom and uninterrupted satisfaction as Providence has indulged us with since the time that thou wert capable of listening to the voice of reason, and of forming thy mind to a relish of such truths as I am able to communicate to thee. The subject of our conversation yesterday naturally leads to the consideration of marriage. The many mischiefs which may be imputed to the lawless commerce of the sexes seem to turn in favour of this honourable alliance. Marriage ought to be in high estimation, not only as the state most safe to virtue, and in which so great a part of private happiness consists, but as best calculated to promote the welfare of our own country. The Almighty, in the great order of his providence, having made the sexes for the mutual aid and support of each other, it is highly reasonable to presume, that when people come to an age of judgment, and are wealthy, or fit to get their bread by their skill or labour, marriage is the proper state of life; and nothing can be a stronger incentive to it, than the affections im- planted in the human breast 13 Happy is it when this union is cemented by a suitableness of disposition. Piety is undoubtedly the bond that can never fail ; but I have wondered when I have seen the sad effects arising from perverseness of humour, that even common pru- dence did not influence persons so connected to be obliging and condescending to each other. The extreme folly of the contrary conduct is well illustrated by the fable of the two hounds. They are represented as very fond of each other, but being young dogs, the huntsman coupled them, to prevent their following every scent, and hunt- ing disorderly. They expressed great uneasiness at their situation : if one chose to go this way, the other was eager to go the contrary, till at length they came to a downright quarrel. An old hound, who had observed what was passing, reproved them in these terms: " What a couple of silly puppies you are to be perpetually worry- ing at this rate! What hinders your going on peaceably and quietly together? Cannot you compromise the matter, by consulting each other's inclinations a little? At least, try to make a virtue of necessity, and submit to what you can- not remedy. You cannot get rid of the chain, but you may make it sit easy, and you will find by experience, that mutual compliances not only compensate for liberty, but are attended with delight." I have heard it seriously maintained, that the 179 misery of servants may be dated from their mar- riage day. Such an uncomfortable doctrine sup- poses that their wages are no ways equal to their expenses, when they have any children to provide for. This opinion proves too much, for expe- rience may be appealed to against it as weli as for it Those who are extravagant or indolent are hardly tit to be trusted in the marriage state; and the child born to such pareins comes into the world under a great disadvantage: but marriage sometimes awakens the attention of the most thoughtless, and every one may observe that the industrious and provident, and such as are vir- tuously inclined, generally succeed in wedlock. As to tiie proper time of marriage, if tUou haet a prudent offer, and no weighty reason to the contrary, marry in the early part of life; but if thou lettest thy youth and thy middle age pass without marriage, if thou art wise, thou mayst as well continue single. Whether thou marriest a young man, or one of middle age, coeult his temper, arid carefully avoid giving him otfeoce; and above all, I warn thee against jealousy. As there can be no government where there i ciO ruler, she, who hath more sense than her hue- band, will shew it by her prudence and fear of God ; ftiil yielding the superiority to him whom God liath set over ber: she may secretly govern him, but openly to assume the command, except 180 in vjsry extraordinary cases, is a proof that her understanding falls very short of the true mark. Rather think how to forgive real offences in thy husband than create imai inary ones. If once the mind is possessed with a jt-alous frenzy, it loses the exercise of reason; and every object that relates to love, is armed with the stings of scor- pions to poison peace. Give jealousy to the wind, and banish thy disquiet. Wert thou persuaded of real infidelity in thy husband, yet if thou hast a wish to share his heart, to regain all his affection, and turn .it into its proper channel, be assured, that if he hath any sensibility, thy tenderness and love, with his recollection of what religion requires, will subdue his heart, and by the stings of con- science convert him; and if he hath no sentiments of virtue, rage and resentment on thy part will only aggravate thy misfortunes, and make two evils instead of one, rendering thy condition the more distressful. As to the revenge which some take, it is not so much a proof of resentment as an evil inclina- tion ; it is a symptom of a Sick and crazed mind; it is like a man's murdering himself because another has attempted to kill him; for she who proceeds to the extremity of repaying such an injury by prostitution does but plunge a dagger into her own bosom, as if she was the aggressor, 181 and meant to seek her punishment even in the destruction of her soul. Command thvsc If, MARY; patient ami yood humour work inn-sines, and I hope these will always secure thy hushan.i's love, that tuy days may p;tss in uniutenupted tran- quillity; remembering that religion is then of most use when the greatest calamities invade us, and that calm resignation to the will of heaven is the grand medicine which cures all the evils incident to human life. If a woman discovers that meekness, modesty, and prudence, in living according to the circum- stances of her husband, are her truest ornaments, she will likewise find wherein her interest consists. The proverb says, " The foot on the cradle, and hand on the distaff, is the sign of a good house- wife." This teaches that a woman inclined to virtue and industry is at once able to manage her family and retain the affection of her husband, and educate her children according to her condi- tion. Nothing can be so desirable to a man as a good wife. Happy had it been for Harry Winter if he had preferred Sally Sweet to Rtbecca Wander! He acknowledged Sallys perfections; but, in his eyes, the air, the grace, the form of Rebecca, were irresistible, and at length he married her. She had been used to the triumphs of beauty, and never rightly informed of any thing. She is of so turbulent and impetuous a temper as not to brook 182 contradiction or disappointment. Her resent- ments are as keen as her vanity is uncontroulable. All her husband'8 wages an hardly sufficient to find her in top-knots, &c. Where is tneir mighty love? I bey are parting witu mutual disgust. Poor Harry is much to be pitied, tor though a " virtuous woman is a crown to her husband, she that maketh ashamed is rottenness in his bones." But in common oases, it neither are very w icked, it is with husband and wife as with master and servant, il but one of the part its faithfully perform their duty they can scarcely be extremely miser- able. As an instance of this, there is Jant Sprightly. She is young and lively, and much beloved by her husband; she desired him the other day to carry her to the fair, which he declined by giving her a variety of reasons for so doing ; adding, " My dear Jac,you look as if you were displeased, what are all the fairs in the world, or all the women that attend the fa ire, to me, compared to your smiles? I can bear any thing better than your frowns, except the consciousness of doing that which in its effects will hurt you : I would not do you harm for the world; not even at your own request; and no one can judge so well as myself what will hurt you." Jaw* has good sense and candour, and heard him attentively. He spoke with such persuasive eloquence, in regard to the sincerity of his love, she could no longer resist; but smoothing her brow with a sweet 183 smiling air, she said, " In good faith, my dear Joshua, though I had a fancy for the fair, it was but a fancy and I believe that tliou art in the right : give me thy hand as a token of calm obedience and sincere affection." She kissed it eagerly. Thus a proper exertion of prudence, though only on one side, my be of essential im- portance to both. To this end, I will give thee one lesson more, which thou wilt easily understand, for it is founded on the plainest sense and reason. The ready way to secure a husband's affection and duty is to be truly affectionate and dutiful as a wife, and always as agreeable as thou canst. There is another affection of the mind, which relates to society at large. Whether thou shouldst marry or remain single, cherish in thy bosom a tenderness for children. The woman devoid of an affection hardly deserves the name of a woman. Children are a large part of mankind ; and child- hood being without guile, they are at once the objects of our love and respect. Remember the regard which was. shewn them by the Saviour of the world, when, in allusion to their umocency, he declared, " Of suclr are the kingdom of heaven"! My master used to say, that no compli- ment ever pleased him more than that imputed to one of our poets : that he was a man of sense, but, in the simplicity of his manners, a child. 184 DISCOURSE XXVII. A truly rational and religious conduct being rare, always makes those wh<> are most distin- guished appear singular. The lady thou art to serve is called a vtry particular woman : the truth is, she hath so much religion ts not to be satisfied without prayers in her family every morning and night, as if she counted the days and. nights, " and numbered them so as really to apply her heart unto wisdom." It is upon the same principle she requires of all her servants to go to church, either in the morning or evening, every sabbath day ; and she absolutely will not keep any servant who totally declines going to the sacrament of the Lord's supper: she does not declare this in so many words, but if re- peated admonitions, and the most pious, humane and friendly advice, make no impression, she discharges them. In order to keep her servants virtuous, she keeps them employed, giving them this whole- some admonition, .'* Get thy spindle and thy distaff ready, and God will send thee flax;' adding this proverb, " Think of ease, but work on;" supposing that ease is the object which all mankind are naturally inclined to seek though they find it only in action. 185 Thy mistress has all the tenderness of a woman without the foibles usually attending thy sex ; her chanty flows from her religion, and is cher* ished by the compassion which streams from her heart, and is therefore steady and lasting. She judges always on the merciful side, distinguishing faults from crimes, and considers the condition servants are in as well as the kind of education they have had. All who ever served her, and have not been guilty in such a manner as to render them unworthy of trust, are sure of her good word, as far as she can give it with a safe conscience ; but she will never give a good character of a servant who has no title to it: declaring, that she considers deceit in recom- mending servants out of mere compassion and against truth, as robbing in order to give alms to the poor. What thinkest thou of a gentleman who, not- withstanding he knew his servant had robbed him, recommended him to another master? The consequence was, that he robbed him also; upon which he prosecuted the former master, who was accordingly condemned to pay the loss. Thy mistress is exact in money matters, and makes up her accounts every Monday morning, paying ready money for every thing she buys: by this means she lives elegantly and splendidly, with half, or at most two thirds, the sum which those spend who would never pay their debts at 186 all if they could cut off the long arms of the law. Her maxim in this respect is, '* Better go to bed supperless, than rise in debt;" intimating that many charges are contracted by things not neces- sary ; and that some necessary things must be given up, rather than run in debt for them. This lady dresses elegantly, according to her fortune, but she confines herself to a certain moderate sum yearly, expending more in charity than apparel. She is at no charge for hair- dressers, her daughter or her maid doing all she requires about her head. I have heard of some ladies who are at a greater expense for curling their hair, than will pay the wages of two or three chambermaids. Thou art also to know that thy mistress die- likes cards, yet not so but she will play for an hour, to oblige her friends, in a private family. Hair-dressing, preparation for cards, and the card-table, employ a considerable portion of the time of our finest people in these days, so small a price do they set on it, and all the other advan- tages of leisure. Often when I have observed the way in which they spend their time, have I felt with emphasis the force of our Lord's obser- vation, " How hardly do they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven!" It seems as if a desire of being distinguished in the gay circle first ensnares, and then leads them on, till at last they lose themselves in vanity and folly. 187 As a confirmation of this remark, thou hast often heard me mention the late Lord Goodchild ; alas, poor gentleman! what an affecting instance his life afforded of the truth of this remark! My master tenderly loved him, and used often to dwell, with a mixture of admiration and sorrow, on the lights and shades that formed his varied character. He was blessed with an uncommon understanding, had great strength of mind, and withal an acuteness of perception that at one glance comprehended whatever was presented to him. He was naturally compassionate, obliging and generous, and had withal a degree of sensi- bility that made his character peculiarly inter- esting. He was not born to the fortune he afterwards possessed, but at length a large estate was bequeathed to him, when suddenly, to the astonishment of every one, he was seized with the love of show and splendour, and completely carried away by them : and this at a time of life when even a vulgar mind, it .might have been expected, would have despised such tinselled folly. From this fatal moment his life was a perpetual round of fashionable dissipation. Not one polite assembly of folly and extravagance where you might not hear 'the name of my Lord Goodchild. He dressed, he trifled, and in short gave up every rational satisfaction, for no other purpose 188 but merely to obtain the temporary praise of the characters he despised. And, wouldst t hou believe it, MARY, with such incomparable endowments he sunk at last into contempt, and was even despised by these very triflers. He died after four days' illness. During this dreadful interval, he desired to see my master, who could never recollect, without painful sensibi- lity, the sad agitation of his then distracted mind. " O my friend ! I have slept," he said, " on a precipice: how dreadful thus to awake! My day of grace is past. O righteous Father, whither shall I flee from thy presence, that holy pre- sence, which was once my delight and crown of rejoicing? There was a time when I could have prayed. Alas! my friend, you know what I once was. You see what I now am. Oh that my life were written in characters of brass, that the sous and daughters of vanity might read and take warning ! 1 have had uncommon advantages. You know the various circumstances of my life, and at how. many different times great afflictions have been sent to call me off from these vanities; and that the Almighty has had, as it were, a controversy with his creature! But whither do my agitated spirits hurry me? What an account of my time, my abilities, and my fortune, shall I have to give ? Can I claim one gospel pro- mise, who have lived in direct violation of its most sacred injunctions ? My head turns round ; I see ; I feel ; O pray for me ; I cannot now pray for myself !" This lady's chief delight, on the contrary, is in promoting the welfare of her fellow-creatures, as far as she can extend her power. She reads divinity, history and travels, and some books of ingenuity ; seeking the conversation of sensible and virtuous persons of both sexes. As some variety is necessary, she changes the scene from books to needlework, and from thence to music, and has great pleasure in walking and riding out, esteeming the works of nature as they come immediately from the hands of God, far superior to all the powers of art. She hath a fine taste in the ornamental parts of life, but esteems this, jn comparison of the useful, as unworthy of praise. She is temperate in her diet, and re- markable in keeping good hours, paying for none of her amusements more than they are worth. Though she appears to have great sensibility, and is naturally of a quick temper, she speaks calmly, and has acquired such a command of her passions, that she seems to weep or rejoice, only as a just sense of things drawn from thought and experience have taught her. She has seen and felt what it is to be unfortunate, and says, that " No one knows better what good is than he who hath endured evil." The consciousness that she is endeavouring to pass her time on earth agreeably to the design of Heaven, gives a peculiar cheerfulness and sweet- ness to her manners. She often talks of death as the end of her days and her cares, and wonders to see such a bustle among people who have already one foot in the grave. She speaks of her dissolution in so familiar and unaffected a manner, that no one can doubt of her being perfectly reconciled to the will of Heaven. Whatever our fortunes may be, my daughter, we might all cultivate the same sentiments, and by degrees acquire the same happy turn of mind. CONCLUSION. WELL, MARY, remember that whether thou shouldst marry or continue single, thy real sum of happiness will be proportionate to thy pro- gress in virtuous attainments, and to the right performance of the several duties of that parti- cular station, whatever it may be, in which the providence of God hath placed thee. And amongst other things remember and respect my admonitions; forget not, " that whoso honouretli his father shall have joy of his own children; and when he maketh his prayer he shall be heard." These are high promises of the most exalted happiness. The wise man goes on to advise : " Honour thy father with thy whole heart, and forget not the sorrotus of thy mother,'* conveying a charming sense of the great love of a mother. He then reminds us of the curse which attends undutifulness : *' The eye that mocketh his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it." This is a beautiful allusion to that blindness and perverse- ness which leads some to neglect and some even to insult their parents, denouncing the judgment they may expect, either by some temporal cala- mity which will befal them, or by the vengeance 102 of Heaven which will overtake them: such offences are of the blackest dye. '* Our parents can never be requited :" such is the nature of our obligations to them. Do not forsake me, MARY, if I should need thy help : God only can tell what may happen ! It is not the custom of our days lor children to be so attentive to their aged parents as is required by the laws of God and the obligations of society. In our condition, I fear some old people are thrown on the parochial charity whose children might provide for them. There are many coun- tries where, although the inhabitants are far short of us in some respects, yet excel in the duty of children to parents. I remember to have heard my master say, that the Gallicians, who are labourers in the great cities of Portugal, and the Russians, who do the same offices in their own country, are never so happy as when they carry home their gains to assist their aged parents. Children ought to honour their parents at all times, that their children may help them, and that the great father of mankind may be their friend, and their days be long in the land wherein God hath given them life and health, to enjoy these blessings, in the stations which his pro- vidence hath appointed them. Heaven knows I have little to give thee but my good advice, Do not, however, think this a 193 misfortune, for the riches of the wealthy often prove temptations to great wickedness. There have been young persons so impatient to possess the goods of their parents, as to think they live too long ; but it is to be hoped that we, who are poor, are in less danger of this great iniquity. Whatever sufferings thou mayst undergo, be courageous ; remember that thy great Lord and Master lived in poverty and died in pain. Never forget his life and death ! To give thy mind true and just impressions of Christianity, hath been the main scope of my design; this hath been the bent of all the care and instruction which I have bestowed on thee ; and whatever the great may apprehend to the contrary, I think this of such consequence, that no education can be called good where it is wanting. To-morrow we must part, but I trust that in the love of God and goodness we shall ever be united ! My solemn request is, that as often as the day begins and ends, thou wilt not barely say thy prayers, but endeavour to offer up the real desire of thine heart in prayer ; and as a help or assistance to the performance of this duty, I will give thee a small collection of prayers, also an abstract of the general train of devotion, which I would earnestly recommend, and a few hymns which may likewise be useful. Surely thou mayst have some idea of the mighty privilege of being thus, as it were in an especial K 104 manner, admitted into the holy presence of the universal Father of angels and of men, and of making known thy requests unto him! What wouldst thou think of the folly of a person who, having an offer from some mighty monarch of his friendship and assistance upon all needful occasions, should, from indolence or insensibility, decline to avail himself of it ? Yet what is the greatest potentate that ever lived upon earth, the wisest and the best, in comparison of Him who endureth from everlasting to everlasting; who sitteth in the heavens over all ; upon whom the whole universe is dependent, and in respect of whom even the noblest beings in that universe are as nothing ! O MARY, there needs no further messenger from heaven to tell us what we ought to do, and that except we repent and are obedient, we must all perish, ; but we see how merciful our Father is, if we do repent. Learn of St. Paul to reason like a rational and accountable being : " If God spared not his own Son but delivered him up for us all t how will he not with him also, freely give us all things ?" Is not this an argument that the weakest may understand, and which the wisest must admire ? PRAYERS, DEVOTIONS, and HYMNS, PRESENTED TO MY DAUGHTER MARY, aged SEVENTEEN, On Occasion of her first going into Service, By her affectionate Father, THOMAS TRUEMAN. 1. Morning Ejaculation, on waking. UNTO thee I lift up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens ! Early in the morning do I cry unto thee. Incline mine heart, O Lord, that I may call my ways to remembrance, and diligently obey thy commandments, through Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 2. Ejaculation for Night, on the approach of Sleep. KEEP me, O Lord, under the shadow of thy almighty power, and preserve me from the dangers of this night. Blot out my transgressions, and when my last hour shall come, let me gently pass from life to death, as I now pass into sleep : and receive me, O God, into thy eternal rest. AMEN. PRAYERS. 3. For the Morning. MOST merciful God, the mighty guardian and protector of mankind, who hast safely brought K2 196 me to the beginning of this day, I beseech thee to continue thy mercies to me ! And, as I am going into a world surrounded by snares, and beset with temptations, grant that this day I may fall into no sin, neither run into any kind of danger ; but that all my doings may be so ordered by thy governance, that I may do always that which is righteous in thy sight. This I beg, O merciful God', in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 4. For the Evening. O GOD, the sure defender of all who put their trust in thee, I most humbly beseech thee to keep me this night under the shadow of thy pro- tection ; let thy almighty power shield me against all dangers ; defend me against all assaults of my spiritual or bodily enemies, and make me to dwell in a safe and peaceful habitation. Pardon whatever thou.hast seen amiss in me the past day, and enable me to serve and obey thee better for all time to come. Grant this, O Father, according to thy gracious promises by Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 5. For Humility. MOST gracious and merciful God, who in thy great goodness didst give thy beloved Son to be our guide unto eternal life! grant that the ex- Ample of his meekness and humility, his incom- parable sweetness and condescension, may make 197 the deepest impressions on my heart! Mortify in me all proud thoughts, and every vain opinion of myself, that I may neither boast of any thing which thou hast permitted me to possess, nor be unmindful of the- hand from whence it came. Make me to know my own infirmities, tliat I may never seek my own praise, nor delight in that which may be offered me by others. Help me to rejoice in discharging my duty to thee, and in shewing due honour to my fellow-crea- tures, and to do them all the good in my power, that at length I may receive the crown which thou hast prepared for thy faithful servants, in thy kingdom of eternal glory, and hast promised by Jesus Chrirt, my blessed Lord and Redeemer. AMEN. 6. For Obedience to Parents. O ALMIGHTY LORD and heavenly Father, who delightest in the obedience of thy children, I beseech thee give me a humble, meek and contrite spirit. Inspire my heart with au utter abhorrence of the dreadful guilt of unduti fulness and disobedience. Let no falsehood or evasion ever enter into my heart, or hinder me from confessing the truth to those who have a right to require it of me. Make me patient under reproof, and daligent in performing my duty. Let my gratitude and submission to my parents be ac- cepted as obedience to thee, my Father and 108 my God! Grant this, I beseech thee, O Lord, for thy mercy's sake in Jesus Christ our Lord. AMBIT. 7. For Fidelity in Scroitude. GREAT God, thou righteous Judge of men! let thy fear be always before mine eyes, that I may discharge my duty with faithfulness and zeal. Let my conduct towards my superiors* express my gratitude for all the mercies which thou hast vouchsafed unto me. Thy all-piercing eye can see my inmost thoughts and minutest actions ! Let my fidelity and respect towards my superiors be apparent in their f sight, that I may delight in promoting their prosperity ; and I beseech thee to give them such a just sense of their eternal obligations to justice and piety, temperance, and all other virtues, that their con- duct may not disturb the repose of my mind, but our endeavours be united in the advancement of thy glory arid of the good of mankind. This I beg, O merciful Father, of thine infinite good- ness, by Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 8. For Patience, particularly in Servitude. MOST merciful God, and tender Father, I be- seech thee, in thine infinite goodness, to remove from me all pride and haughtiness of spirit, and teach me how to support myself under every circumstance of life ; that with patience, resolu- * Master or mislress, or both, t His, her, or their. V09 tion, and singleness of heart, I may overcome evil with good, and ever possess my soul in tran- quillity. Grant me grace to imitate the humility of my blessed Lord and Saviour, that 1 may obtain such a peace of mind and rest of soul, as the world cannot give. Let my conscience be always void of offence towards thee and my fellow-creatures; that amidst all the follies and iniquities which surround me, I may acquit my- self with applause in thy sight, O God, and receive the great reward which thou hast pro- mised thy faithful servants, by Jesus Christ. * AMEN. Q. For Application to Business, and Resigna- tion to Providence. ALMIGHTY Lord, who hast ordained by thy unchangeable decrees that man shall eat his bread in sweat and labour, give me, I beseech thee, an active and industrious disposition. Let my dili- gence and innocency go hand in hand and admi- nister to their mutual support; that my life may pass in safety, and my death be full of hope. Teach me, O God, an entire submission to thy will ! Give me so true a relish *)f my condition, that the glorious example of humility which Christ hath set before my eyes may appear as far beyond any earthly advantage, as the glories of eternity outshine the transcient splendour of this world. Thus resigned, O Lord, let me labour, with my hands, in stedfast hopes of future 200 happiness, through thy great goodness revealed by Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 10. For Chastity. MOST holy and eternal Father, I beseech thee, let thy Spirit descend upon thy servant, that my body may be undefiled from all impurities. Let no unchaste words pollute the tongue which thou hast commanded to be an organ of thy praise. Seal up my senses from all vain objects, that they may be fortified against the assaults of temptation; and that, by watchfulness and mor- tification, possessing my soul in true holiness, I may at length resign myself to death, in stedfast hope of being made partaker of a joyful resur- rection, through thy great mercy in Jesus Christ, my exalted Lord and Master. AMEN. 11. For Benefactors. MOST merciful Lord, fountain of all good to men and angels, I beseech thee, extend thy favour and loving -kindness to my friends and bene- factors. Reward them for the good which, through thy providence, they have conveyed to me. Guard them from all sadness and affliction, but such as may be instrumental to thy glory and their eternal comfort. Preserve their per- sons from ail violence; and let not the powers of darkness prevail against them. Guide them in thy paths, and make them the instruments of thy mercies to mankind ; that amidst all the taunts 201 and ingratitude of the world, they may stand as monuments of thy paternal tenderness and care, and finally be received into thine everlasting kingdom, through thy promised mercies to us in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ! A MEN. 19. Against Censorious ness. O TENDER Father of mankind, correct in me, I beseech thee, whatever is malevolent or cen- sorious ; restrain my tongue from evil, and my lips that they speak no guile ; that imitating the conduct of rny blessed Saviour, by unfeigned love and true commiseration, I may mourn over the offences of others, and by my best endeavours make them sensible of the errors of their ways. If it be thy pleasure, let me suffer injuries, but not do them. Teach me, O God, to enter into the recesses of my own heart, and take an im- partial view of my own sins ; that, avoiding all severe judgments of others, 1 may finally escape condemnation at the judgment seat of Christ, in whose most holy name I implore thy mercy. AMEN. 13. For Grace to resist Pride and Unquietness. MOST righteous and just God, to whose all- piercing eye ungodliness and wrong are open as the day, grant, I beseech thee, that whatever injuries or provocations I may meet with in the world, 1 may discern the folly and wickedness of pride and anger, and meekly commit my K3 202 cause unto thee, trusting in thine infinite wisdom and goodness for relief, through Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 14. For a Husband or a Wife. MOST gracious Father and eternal God, who hast consecrated the holy state of marriage, I beseech thee, let not the cares and inquietudes, the weaknesses and infirmities, which cleave to our imperfect nature, discompose my spirit. Give me, under all the accidents and vicissitudes of life, a cheerful and obliging temper, a strict attention to my duty towards thee, with truth, fidelity and affection to my husband (or wife). Give me thy grace, I beseech thee, that I may be a guide and good example to my family ; that all discharging their respective duties in quiet- ness, contentment and humility, thy blessings, O God, may rest upon them, and particularly on the person of my husband (or wife) : and grant, O Father, that we may both live in mutual love, to the end of a holy and happy life, and finally be received into thy joys, which thou hast pro- mised by Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord. AMEN. 15. For Pardon of Sins in Sickness. HEAR me, O almighty and most merciful Father, and extend thy goodness to thy servant. Sanctify, I beseech thee, all thy corrections to me, that the sense of my weakness, in my present condition, may add strength to my faith and 20,3 seriousness to my repentance. Give me grace so to take this visitation, that if my sickness shall end my present life, I may be removed to those regions where sickness, pain and sorrow shall be no more, even to dwell with thee in bliss eternal, through thy mercy in Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 16. For Recovery from Sickness and for Re- signation. MOST righteous God, in whose hands are the appointments of life and death, grant that I may perceive thy justice and mercy, and look up to thee for strength to bear, and grace to profit by my sickness. Let me consider it as a scourge for my sins, and a medicine to heal the diseases of my soul. Grant, O Lord, it may answer these ends, that, trusting in thy gracious promises, I may behave myself submissively, patiently and devoutly; and, if it be thy pleasure to restore me to health, let me constantly send up my heart in praise and gratitude to thee, and lead the residue of my days in thy service and to thy glory. But if it is thy will that I now shall die, O God, forgive my manifold transgressions, and prepare my heart, that I may stand accepted before thy throne. Receive me into thy favour, O Father eternal, according as thou hast pro- mised to those who obey thee, by Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 204 17. For a good Life and happy Death. O LORD and Father of my life, I behold my days passing away like a shadow ; shed thy in- fluence on my heart, that I may improve the remainder of them, and recover the precious time which I have lost! Instruct me, O God of wisdom, how to prepare myself for that hour, when I shall appear before thy judgment seat! that being full of the hopes of a blissful immor- tality, I may rather desire than dread my disso- lution. Thy eternal decree is past; and it is appointed to man once to die. O teach me to meet the King of terrors without dismay : teach me to receive him as a welcome messenger, and, whether early or late, let me joyfully obey thy summons! This I beg, as the disciple of Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 18. A Prayer for Divine Assistance in every Event of Life, and particularly with a view to Mar- riage. ALMIGHTY and everlasting Lord God, thou that dwellest in light inaccessible, and art in excellence most transcendent! how shall I, one of the lowest of thy intelligent creatures, venture to supplicate thy mercy, or in what language shall I address thee ? But thou art a God as of all power, so of everlasting mercy, and not only seest at one view all the nations of men that dwell upon earth, (and in thy sight all things 205 past, present and to come, are ever present,) but condescendest to direct the steps of those that fear thee ! " Not a sparrow talieth to the ground without thee, our Father." It is by thy Son's Gospel we are taught that our everlasting happiness or misery will depend upon our present conduct : teach me, therefore, O heavenly Father, not so much to seek the satisfactions of this world, as to attain that holi- ness of character, without which I must lose thy favour, and be wretched for ever. O save me, I beseech thee, from such an excess of woe! But as my future conduct will much depend upon the situation in which I am placed, be graciously pleased so to order the events of thy providence, as that 1 may be led to determine upon a single or married life, as may best conduce to my eternal welfare ; and that I may consider the marriage state, in all its real importance, not as a light and trivial thing, but as an event upon which the happiness of myself, and of my hus- band, may depend for ever. Teach me so to walk in l.hy fear, that I may dread the company of a profane, a drunken, Or a dishonest person,* knowing that by their ex- ample I shall be led away from keeping thy commandments : and suffer me not to give my affection to any one who is not also thy servant * When the view to marriage is onJy general. 206 Thou knowest that I am at this time sought in marriage, and that the person is very dear to me. If thou seest fit to approve our union, sanctify unto us, I beseech thee, this affection,* that in purity, simplicity and godly sincerity, we may have our conversation in this world, knowing that it is but for a time ! But above all suffer not the allurements of an earthly attachment to draw off my mind from its chiefest good, an attachment which must neces- sarily soon cease and be done away for ever. O suffer me not to set my heart upon any person or thing in this world, so as hereafter to think any of thy dispensations grievous, but grant that in all things I may now and for ever entirely resign myself, and all that belongs to me, into thy hands, knowing that I and my affairs are nothing, are less than a point in the midst of thy works, further than as thou makest me to fill one link in the chain which binds together thy intel- ligent creation. Grant this, O heavenly Father, in the way appointed by Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. AMEN. * When the affections are engaged to a particular person. 207 GENERAL DEVOTIONS. HEAR me, O Lord of life ! ponder my medita- tions, and consider the longings of my soul to serve and worship thee! When I look back oft thy wonders of old, and the mercies which thou hast shewn to all the children of men ; when I contemplate the preservation 1 have experienced in my own person, in sickness and danger, my heart is exalted with joy, and my spirit resteth in the hope of the continuance of thy goodness to me, even for ever and ever. Yet am I unworthy to stand in thy sight, () God, for my transgressions and infirmities are numberless! Give me thy aid to sue for thy pardon! Vouchsafe to grant me such a measure of patience and humility, meekness and temper- ance, fortitude and benevolence, that my thoughts being subdued by righteousness, my words and actions may be acceptable in thy sight. Purify my imagination, and banish the foolishness of my thoughts, which so often interrupts the repose of my mind. I am imperfect in nature, and not worthy to look up to Heaven ! Yet, O God, thou knowest whereof I am made : make me so watchful and resolute, that I may never fall again from thee. Thy judgments, O Lord, are right ; and in faithfulness dost thou cause us to be troubled. 208 The soul that is troubled, and the spirit that is vexed, crieth unto thee! Hear me then, O God, my Father, and turn thee unto me according to the multitude of thy mercies, Let tne lemem- brance or my past misdeeds be biotttd out, and cleanse me iron, my secret faults: let not the sins to which I am by temper and constitution prone, prevail against me. O Father Almighty, grant me such a measure of thy grace, that 1 may daily learn how tore- pent ; and so apply myself to the discharge of my duty, that when my feet shall slip, thou in thy goodness mayst uphold me. Give me a contrite heart, O Lord, that I may worthily lament my sins, and make such con- fession of them, as thou shall please to accept, in the way thou hast promised by the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let thy Spirit lead me forth, and direct my paths in righteousness; that with zeal and truth, purity and singleness of heart, 1 may discharge thy will on earth, so far as my imperfect nature will admit, as it is done in heaven. Grant that I may keep in constant view the life and death of the blessed Saviour of the world, that through faith in his promises, I may obtain remission of my sins. Let me consecrate every hour of my life to follow his example; and let all the glories of this transient scene appear as darkness and horror, in comparison of the wisdom 209 which springeth from hope in that immortal life which he hath promised ! Give me thy grace, O Lord, so as to improve my fleeting hours, that I may compass all the pious and rational designs at which my soul aspires. Let me act as a chosen instrument of thy mercies to mankind ; that in every condition, the happiness of others may be the constant sub- ject of my joy. Yet banish from me all anxious desires, that I may possess my spirit in freedom and resignation ; and suffer .not the noise and bustle of the world, or the deluding blandish- ments of sense, to captivate my heart ; but whilst my body tends to its original dust, may the strength of my mind grow to maturity, and my soul be exalted in the contemplation of the hap- piness of the just in the blissful regions of immortality. Cherish and strengthen my hopes, that what- ever thy vvisdom shall ordain, concerning the time which thou shalt permit me to live on earth, I may resolutely pursue that which is right in thy sight; an. whilst I enter into the recesses of my own mind, and compassionate the faults of others, let me pour out my soul unto thee, in whose friendship there can be no disappointment. Give me a true understanding of the honour and love which I owe to my king, my country, and mankind in general ; but let no flattery nor distinction, nor any false bias, sully the purity of 210 my love and gratitude towards thee, or divert the current of my thoughts from the fountain of reason and the source of felicity ! Let the ends of the earth remember thee, O God, and all nations fall down before thee! Although the host of heaven pay homage to thee, O Father omnipotent, reject not my humble praise ! Thou, thou art all! To thee, O God, I offer up my prayer, from the hour I rise from the death of sleep till- my senses are locked again in darkness. Let all my hopes and all my wishes centre in thee, O Lord, and be directed to thy glory. Fill my heart with such knowledge of thy wisdom, thy goodness, thy justice, that I may delight in thy laws, and dwell under the shadow of thy mercy ! Let my remembrance of thee be sweeter than the praises of an applauding world ; and the riches of thy wisdom beyond all the earth can afford. Let the knowledge of thy sacred word, trans- mitted down from age to age, guide and direct my steps; that, reason being enlightened by the gospel of truth, I may see and approve what is holy, just and pure; and love and fear and adore thy unchangeable perfections ! O make thy will appear to me clearly, that, discerning thy laws, I may inflexibly abide in thy statutes! Shed thy influence on my soul, O Lord Al- mighty, that I may possess such fortitude as will always keep me in thy paths. Thou, O God, art truth ; and all my researches in which I de- part from thee, are full of error and delusion. Strengthen the powers of my mind, O God, that I may learn and practise all things which are agreeable to thee, till the approaching time ar- rives, when, by thy mercy, I may behold the brightness of thy incomprehensible wisdom and glory. Teach me, O Lord, to meet my dissolution with a humble and contrite, but undaunted heart ; and, O my Father and my God, let me die the death of the righteous, that when L shall appear at the tribunal of Christ, whom thou hast appointed to judge the world, I may hear his sentence in ecstacy of joy, and become a partaker in his glory. O merciful, omnipotent Father! hear this my prayer ! Hear me, I beseech thee, and bring me to thine everlasting joys, through Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN. 212 HYMNS. 1. Hymn for Gratitude. When all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise. O how shall words with equal warmth The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravish'd heart ? But thou canst read it there. Thy providence my life sustain'd, And all my wants redress'd, When in the silent womb 1 lay, And hung upon the breast. To all my weak complaints and cries Thy mercy lent an ear, Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnl To form themselves in pray'r. 213 Unnumber'd comforts on my soul Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd From whence those comforts flow'd. Through ev'ry period of my life Thy goodness I'll pursue; And, after death, in distant worlds The glorious theme renew. When nature fails, and day and night Divide thy works no more ; My ever grateful heart, O Lord, Thy mercy shall adore. 2. For Protection from wicked Person*. To God I cried, with anguish stung, Nor form'd a fruitless pray'r ; O save me from the lying tongue, And lips that would ensnare ! Safe shall I go and safe return, While he my life defends, Whose eyes my ev'ry step discern, Whose mercy never ends. 3. Against Flattery. To thee I call ; O haste thee near ; My voice, great God, indulgent hear ; 214 With grateful odour to the skies As incense let my pray'r arise. And let my hands, uplifted high, With full acceptance meet thine eye, Let virtue's friends, severely kind, With welcome chastisement my mind Correct ; but give not these to shed The balm of flattery o'er my head ; Lest sudden from thy wrath I feel The stroke, that none shall know to heal. 4. On the Shortness and Vanity of Life. HEAR, Lord, my pray'r, and let my cries Accepted to thy throne arise ; O turn not thou thy face away, Nor longer my relief delay ; But mark my sorrow from on high, And pitying to my call reply. Fast as the mountain smoke decays, On Time's light pinion flit my days : As fades the shadow of the sun With quick decline my moments run, Just verging to their close : my face, Its vernal bloom, and youthful grace, Extinguish'd, withers on the eye, As plants beneath a hostile sky. But thou blest guard of Israel's fold, Shalt ages see on ages roll'd, And thron'd above to endless days Extend thy honour, name, and praise. 215 5. For Repentance and Trust in God. LORD ! to my wants thy ear incline ; Behold me as with grief I pine ; My hope confirm, and guard from ill A soul subjected to thy will. From rising to declining day, To thee with fervent lip I pray; Propitious, to thy servant's heart Thy cheering influence impart. To thee, to thee, I vent my care ; I know thee, Lord, nor slow to spare, Nor weak to vindicate from harm, The soul with pure devotion warm. My days with sorrow clouded o'er, Thy wanted succours I implore. Long as I breathe the vital air, Thy love my loudest praise shall share, Whose aid my soul with health has crown'd, And snatch'd me from the pit profound. 0. A Hymn. The Christian's Contemplation. IN vain the dusky night retires, And sullen shadows fly : In vain the morn with purple light Adorns the eastern sky. 216 In vain the gaudy rising sun The wide horizon gilds, Comes glitt'ring o'er the silver streams, And cheers the dewy fields. In vain, dispensing vernal sweets, The morning breezes play ; In vain the birds with cheerful songs Salute the new-born day. In vain ; unless my Father's face These gloomy clouds controul, And dissipate the sullen shades That press my drooping soul. Oh ! visit then thy servant, Lord, With favour from on high ; Arise, my bright immortal sun, And all these shades will die. O when shall I behold thy face, All radiant and serene, Without those envious dusky clouds, That make a veil between ? When shall that long-expected day Of sacred vision be ? When shall my soul impatient make A near approach to thee ? 217 7. Hymn on the Excellency of the Bible. HERE are my choicest treasures hid, Here my best comfort lies, Here my desires are satisfy'd, And hence my hopes arise. Lord, make me understand thy law, Shew what my faults have been, And from thy gospel let me draw Pardon for all my sin. Here do I learn how Christ has dy'd To save my soul from hell : Not all the books on earth beside Such heav'nly wonders tell. Then let me search thy Scriptures more, And, with renew'd delight, By day read all thy wonders o'er, And meditate by night. 8. Hymn. The Wisdom of God in his Works. I. SONGS of immortal praise belong To thee, almighty God ! To thee are due our heart, our tongue, To spread thy name abroad. L 218 II. How great the works thy hand has wrought ! How glorious in our sight ! And men in ev'ry age have sought Thy wonders with delight. III. How most exact is nature's frame ! How wise th' eternal mind ! Thy counsels never change the scheme That thy first thoughts design'd. IV. Nature and time, and earth and skies, Thy heav'nly skill proclaim : What shall we do to make us wise, But learn to read thy name ? V. To feer thy pow'r, to trust thy grace, Is our divinest skill ; And he's the wisest of our race That best obeys thy will. 9. Hymn. The Wisdom of God in his Works. I. GREAT God, the heav'n's well-order' d frame Declares the glories of thy name ; There thy rich works of wonder shine; 219 A thousand starry beauties there, A thousand radiant marks appear Of boundless pow'r and skill divine. II. From night to day, from day to night, The dawning and the dying light Lectures of heav'nly wisdom read: With silent eloquence they raise Our thoughts to the Creator's praise, And neither sound nor language need. III. Yet their divine instructions run Fair as the journeys of the sun : All nature joins to shew thy praise. Thus God in ev'ry creature shines: Fair is the book of nature's lines, But fairer is the book of grace. 10. Hymn. The Equity of the Divine Dispensations. I. FATHER of men! who can complain Under thy mild and equal reign ? Who does a weight of duty share More than his aids and pow'rs can bear? 220 II. With diff' ring climes and differing lands, With fruitful plains and barren sands, Thy hand hath form'd this earthly round, And set each nation in its bound. III. With like variety, thy ray Here sheds a full, there fainter, day ; While all are in their measure shew'd The way to happiness and God. IV. O the unbounded grace which brought To us the words by- Jesus taught! So blest, and with such hopes inspir'd, How much is giv'n ! how much requir'd ! 11. Hymn. Divine Providence. I. THROUGH all the various shifting scene Of life's mistaken ill or good, Thy hand, O God, conducts unseen The beautiful vicissitude. II. Thou givest with a Father's care, Howe'er unjustly we complain, To each their necessary share Of joy and sorrow, health and pain. 221 III. All things on eartb, and all in heav'n, On thine eternal will depend ; And all for greater good were giVn, Would man pursue th' appointed end. IV. Be this our care ; to all beside Indiff'rent let our wishes be : Passion be calm, and dumb be pride, And fix'd our souls, O God, on thee. 12. Hymn. The Perfections and Providence of God. I. HIGH in the heav'ns, eternal God, Thy goodness in full glory shines ; Thy truth shall break thro' ev'ry cloud Which veils and darkens thy designs. II. For ever firm thy justice stands, As mountains their foundations keep ; Wise are the wonders of thy hands, Thy judgments are a mighty deep. III. Thy providence is kind and large ; Both man and beast thy bounty share The whole creation is thy charge, The good are thy peculiar care. M BM IV. O God, how excellent thy grace, Whence all our hope and comfort springs ! The sons of Adam in distress Fly to the shadow THE END. George Stnallfield, Printer, Hackney.