that way in my life.

life. I have never heard any such thing as praying to God, or reading the scriptures in the house, since I came thither; and yet, when I came to him, I was told he was a mighty religious man.

Will. Why, that's what I say, he is counted a religious man, and they say he goes to the meeting-house too.

Tom. So much the worse for him, if he appear religious only, and his practice makes him appear to be otherwise: however, I will not say what he is privately, but this I am sure of, it does not appear in his family; we that are his servants see nothing of it, nor his children neither.

Will. Why, that is as I would have it to be at our house: he is a very good man, every body says so, and what need he trouble you with it? I don't like this making such a show of religion; cannot they be religious, but they must trouble all the family with it? I believe your master is a very honest good man, Tom, though he makes no show of it as mine does.

Tom. You talk profanely again, Will. I am no more for making a show of religion than you; but if there be no religion where there is some show of it, to be sure there is no religion where there is no show at all of it. But what do you call show? Is it not every Christian man's duty to teach his household and family to serve God? Do you call that a show? Every one ought to make such a show of religion; and if he does not, he plainly makes a show of having very little religion himself. I might give you a great many places out of scripture for this; but it seems you have not read much of the Bible.

Will. Why, what would you have your master do! You would not have him make such a rout as my master does, would you?

Tom. I would have him serve God in his family, as other religious good people do.

Will. Well, but you say they all serve God on Sundays.

Tom. What's that to his family, We may run abont

M

where we will all for him, Sabbath day, or any day or night, he never takes any thought of us. If we are but in the counting-house next morning when he wants us, we may serve God or the devil, 'tis all one to him.

Will. That's what I want now, I wonder you should be uneasy at it.

Tom. I have not been used to such a life, Will, though you have. It terrifies me so, I cannot bear it.

Will. Why, what would you have?

what your master does?

What is it to you

Tom. A great deal. God has said, "He will pour out his fury upon the families that call not upon his name,” Jer. x. 25. and I am one of the family now.

Will. Well, but.can you not say your prayers by yourself.

Tom. Truly I have no manner of convenience for that neither, for we all lie together in a room; and at first [ used to kneel down and pray by myself, but the rest of the apprentices jcered me out of it, and made such a noise at me, I was forced to leave it off; and now I go to bed and rise like a beast, as they do: but it grieves me so, I cannot tell what to do, for I am sure it is a sin to do so, and I am afraid God should show some judgment upon me for it.

Will. Why, is there any danger of that, Tom. Why, I never prayed to God in my life.

Tom. Then you are in a sad condition, Will; and so am I too. Sometimes I think it will break my heart. I think my father has put me in the devil's mouth, and I am going the straight road to hell, I am sure he does not do so himself.

Will. And so you have left of saying your prayers, Tom, now quite, han't you? and then you live as bad as I do, don't you?

Tom. No, I han't left off praying neither; for, if my master does but send me an errand, I pray as I go along the streets; and sometimes I get up into the hay-loft

over the stable, or any where I can be private. But this is so seldom, and it grieves me so, that when I come to pray, I can do nothing but cry, I can't speak a word hardly.

Will. I do not understand these things. Sure I am a strange creature. Why, it never troubles me. 1 don't know what it is to pray to God. I never knew there was any harm in not doing it. I wish I could learn, I'd say my prayers too.

[The boy begins to be touched with the discourse.]

Tom. You have a good master to teach you; I have a master will do nothing but teach me to forget all that my good father and mother have been teaching me these fifteen years.

Will. Why, if what you learned is good, what need forget it?

you

Tom. Why, I'll tell you, Will, when I was at home, and had all the encouragement in the world, by the example and instruction of my father, and the exhortation of my mother, telling me my duty, and strictly charging me never to lie down and rise without praying to God, in the evening for protection, and in the morning for direction; yet I found a wicked inclination within me, of prompting me to omit my duty; and now, when I want these helps of example and instruction, and instead of them have had so many discouragements, and find it so difficult to get a retired place för it, I find that wicked inclination to omit my duty increases, and sometimes I am for persuading my. self I have a sufficient excuse to leave it quite off; and I am afraid some time or other I shall do so, and grow an atheist, and then I shall live without God, like a heathen, as you do, Will.

Will. Indeed, Tom, I have lived like a heathen all my days, I begin to see it now. But what must I do?. How

can I help it now!

Tom. Do, Will! you must leave it off, and learn to live

a better life,

Will. But, brother Tom, how must I do that? I am a poor ignorant wretch,-I know nothing at all,-I have never been taught any thing in my life. If to live as I do, is to be a heathen, my father is a heathen, and my mother is a heathen, and my brothers and sisters are all heathens.

Tom. You are in a sad condition, Will, as I said before, and I think I am in a worse.

Will. How can that be, Tom?

Tom. Why, you have been taught nothing, and I am in a fair way to lose all I have been taught; and I think my condition is worse than your's.

Will. No, no, you know what to do, and what you ought to do. You have been well educated, Tom. I have nobody to teach me any thing. Tell me, dear brother, what must I do? Teach me what is my first duty; I begin to see something very desirable in religion, that I never valued before.

[The first motions in an uncultivated mind generally are, to see a beauty in the ways of God, and to have a desire to imitate them.]

Tom. Why, Will, I am but a boy, as well as you, and can't teach you much; but I can tell you what my father used to tell me, and what he taught me to do.

Will. Do tell me that then, for I long to hear it.

Tom. Why, he used to tell me, that God made me, and that being born in sin, and liable to eternal death for sin, Jesus Christ redeemed me.

Will. All that I have heard too, though I do not understand a word of it.

Tom. Then he told me, I must every day pray to God to bless me, to preserve me, and to pardon my sins for Jesus Christ's sake; that I must give thanks to him for my life, and preservation in health, and for all things that I re: ceive; that I must pray to him for my daily bread, and to give me wisdom and direction in all I go about.

Will. How can I do this?

Tom. I remember I asked my father that very question, and he answered me thus:-Do you not come to me, child, when you want clothes, and ask me for them; and to your mother when you are hungry, and ask for victuals; and do you not do this without teaching?

Will. And what did you say?

Tom. What could I say? I kneeled down every night and morning, and said over the Lord's-prayer; then I got a good prayer out of a book, and said that, and sometimes a word or two would come into my thoughts, that I would say of my own head, as I thought of such things as were proper.

Will. I shall never learn: why, I can hardly say over the Lord's-prayer without a book.

Tom. I'll tell you, Will, if I thought you were in earnest, I would do my endeavour to teach you; but you that kave led such a wicked life, and cry out against your master and mistress so much about praying, I don't think you mean any thing but to jest with me.

Will. No, but I do not jest now: you say it is so wicked a thing, and I am in such a dangerous condition, that you looked for the ground to open, and swallow me up. Why, you can't think I would be willing to have the devil take me away, whatever I may say sometimes. But I am a poor ignorant boy, how shall I know what

to do?

Tom. Truly, Will, and I also am but ignorant, as I said before, and unfit to teach you. I am but a boy, you know; but this I know, and have been taught, that God has made me. Do you believe that, Will?

Will. Yes, sure.

Tom. Well, if God made you, then he can destroy

you.

Will. That is plain.

Tom. Then sure it is your interest to serve God, as well in thankfulness to him because he made you, as that he may not be provoked to destroy you.