child against the parent, when its eyes come to be opened.

Note. Such is the beauty of a religious and conscientious life in those that practise it, that those who can taste nothing of themselves, yet have a value for it in others. The profane boy's father told him he loved his master, because he was a good man; and that if he (the boy) would take his master's advice, he would make him a better man than his father.

Note. The aversions which want of instruction in this youth had bred in him against the religious behaviour of his master, and against the public exercises of religion in his family, were so foolishly grounded, that they would bear no weight in his discoursing it, even with a child; and therefore the religious youth presently objects against what he says, and he himself sooner sees the folly of his own discourse; and yet the author of this work is just also to the thing itself, for that really our ridiculous notions in contempt of religion will admit no better argument to excuse them.

Aversions to religious duties grow naturally, either by disuse of those duties, or by the disaster of an ill education, even where the poor hardened child may think no harm, or design any wilful rebellion against God, ignorance being the natural consequence of want of instruction.

Observe here, when the wicked boy, being convinced, asks his comrade what he must do, he goes back to tell him what his own father used to teach him. Whence note, that well instructing our children, makes them capable to instruct others, as occasion presents; and consequently their children, when they come to have families of their own,

From the beginning of the wicked boy's convictions, note, that sense of danger is the first thing that ordinarily discovers itself in conviction of sin, and this leads to inquiring after what we are next to do; as the jailor, whe "What must I do?

first came in trembling, then asks,

When the boy, after his first conviction, recollects

things by himself, while his companion is goħe for the Bible, he is struck with horror at his condition; but the Spirit of God working graciously in him, lays the promise of God, as it were, full in his way, in order to give him. hope; and, at the first appearance of hope, he breaks out vehemently in prayer; when his comrade returns, and innocently inquires about what he said, it appears from him, that his prayer was a kind of ecstasy, moved by a supernatural power in his heart, that affected him in a violent man⚫ ner, so that he hardly could give an account of it himself; but says wildly, he trembled, and cried out.

There are, no doubt, such strong impressions of the Spirit of God accompanying true convictions, and the great regenerating work of grace in the heart, as may be inexpressible, even by the persons themselves, yet far from enthusiastic or affected. Nor are these impressions to be slighted, much less ridiculed. Perhaps this may be in part signified, in regeneration being called a new birth, though the main intent of that allusion be to signify the entire change of the state.

From the whole of this dialogue may be observed, the great duty and advantage of young men spending the hours they have to spare for conversation, in religious discourses, and inquiring of one another about things relat ing to heaven, their duty here, and their way thither. This, no doubt, was enjoined in the same text, where the instruction of our children is commanded. Deut. vi. 7. "Thou shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way;" that is, they shall be the general subject of your conversation and communication one with another.

Note. The advantages of religious conversation are many; the present case is brought to describe them. The young, untaught, uninstructed youth, who came out of the hands of his parents to be an apprentice, as perfectly naked of knowledge and instruction as he came naked into the world, becomes a convert by his keeping company and N

conversing with a religious, well-instructed companion, and became afterwards an exoellent promoter of knowledge and piety in the place where he lived.,

THE SECOND DIALOGUE.

The young lad who was put apprentice to the religious tradesman above mentioned, though he had no education from his parents, was, as you have heard in the past dialogue between him and the youth, his comrade, brought to a condition quite different from what he had always been brought up in. He had a full conviction of the desperate condition he was in, by reason of his sinful nature and life. He had received some light from the little instruction his young, but pious, companion was capable to give him; and his conscience was thoroughly awakened. His little instructor had been providentially made the instrument to lay a foundation of hope in him, and to encourage him to pray to God, and to read the scriptures, and to believe that God would receive him, and not reject him for his sinful life, or for his sinful nature, but would grant him whatsoever he would ask: aud upon this confidence, in his first agony he breaks out, as before, in a short, but vehement prayer, being the first he had ever made in his life; and which, as it was made from a heart deeply touched with the danger of his soul, so it left great impressions upon his mind, as I have noted; and having gotten a Bible from his companion, he goes away with two happy resolves-1, to read; and 2. to pray.

The alteration this made in the youth, could not be long bid in the family where he was placed; where his wicked way of living, his profane tongue, and his contempt of religion, had made him not very well received; and made his conversation so much their aversion, that the master of

the house, and the mistress too, had warned their ittlechildren from conversing with him; and they had somet discourse together, about turning him away, finding him of a temper, as they thought, too refractory to be wrought upon by advice, past the benefit of example, and who had several times made a jest of, and a scoff at their attempts to instruct him.

But the boy being changed within, as it is noted above, it could not be that such a work could long conceal itself in his conversation. He appeared pensive, retired, and grave in his deportment,-was observed to sigh very often, and look as if he had been crying. As soon as his business was over, he was never to be seen, but always hid in the dark among the work-houses, of which his master had several. He was observed to be always ready at the times of family-worship, and on the Lord's-day. When his master examined him about the sermons he had heard, they were all surprised at him, for the ready account he gave of what the minister had preached. His master and mistress, who could not but observe this alteration in the boy, took the more notice of him in his conversation the week after, where they found him diligent at his work, more than ever, but nothing of the mirth and sport his fellow-servants used to have with him. They observed he had left off all his ill words, and wicked expressions, swearing, cursing, and the like. He played none, laughed none, and hardly was seen to smile. Several of the servants and workmen that observed it also, had been jesting with him, asked him what ailed him; but he gave them no answers that were to the purpose, so that it was hardly guessed at in the family, at least not among his fellows.

But his master and mistress, who, from his behaviour, as above, had entertained some notion of it, or being willing to hope the best, had pleased themselves with some 1'houghts of the child's being grown rather serious than meancholy, made it their business to observe him more nar

rowly; and seeing him one evening take a candle, and go up into a room over their workhouse, by himself, the mistress silently followed him, and placed herself so as she might perceive him, and he perceive nothing of it.

As soon as he came up, he set down the candle, pulled a book out of his pocket, and turned over the leaves, fold. ing up here, and folding down there, but not reading long in any one place. She observed him to sigh grievously all the while, and at last to throw down the book, and burst out into a vehement fit of crying, sitting down upon the ground, wringing his hands, and the tears running down his face, but not speaking a word.

While he was in this agony, she discovered herself to have seen him, and begins as follows:

Will, what's the matter with you, child?

The boy, surprised, snatches up the book hastily, and put it in his pocket.

[His mistress speaks to him again.]

Mist. Will; what's the matter, Will? tell me.

Will. Nothing.

[Offers to go away.]

Mist. Come, Will, do not be backward to tell me what trouls thee; for I have seen all you have been doing. What book's that you had there?

Will. No book of any harm.

Mist. Child, I do not think it is a book of any harm, I believe it is a good book. Is it not the Bible, Will? Come, tell me.

Will. Yes, it is.

Mist. Let me see it, Will.

Will. You may believe me, it is the Bible; I hope you'll not be angry.

Mist. Angry, child, I am glad to see you looking in the Bible. I am not angry, I hope you are minding good things.

[So his mistress sits down by him.]

Will. Oh, it is too late now!