Ald. You have a great advantage, neighbour, that I have not; I am in such a continual hurry of business, that I cannot look after my family as I would do. I have no leisure to discharge my duty to my servants. You have leisure, neighbour, and your servants have the advantage of it.

Clo. Truly, Sir, if I have leisure it is my loss, for my livelihood depends upon my being employed, as well as my servants; but they that are taught to know their duty, will always find leisure to do it. I doubt not, Sir, but you discharge yourself better that way than I can do.

Wife. It is seen plainly in your servants themselves that you do your duty to them, Sir. Sure never any body had such servants as you have.

Ald. Nay, neighbour, I do not say I discharge my duty better than you do. God forgive me! I do not discharge it at all; I mean to my apprentices; I take no care about them.

Wife. That is then because they are so good, and so religious, and they need no inspection; for you know, Sir, we are to instruct our servants as well as our children.

Ald. Well, I cannot say that I have made that much of my concern; for our apprentices generally come of pretty good families, and bring money with them, and they think themselves above being talked to about such things.

Clo. Then they are among those who Solomon calls fools, that despise instruction; and if they reject your offers to instruct them, I cannot see what you can do in that case; that was my very case with this boy.

Ald. I perceive you have had a great deal of trouble

with him.

· Clo. Yes, indeed, I had so; I was quite weary of him.

Ald. He had the report of being a very wicked boy.

Clo. Indeed I was ashamed to have it said such a boy was in my house.. I was afraid any of the neighbour's chil dren should come near him.

Ald. Indeed, I have a young man I believe is not much the better of him. I have been chiding him a little about it; but is he really changed and reformed, think you?

Clo. Indeed, that he is, and most wonderfully too. I bless God for it.

Ald. I question not but you have taken a great deal of pains with him; but are you not deceived? is he not a cheat, and plays the hypocrite?

Clo. If ever there was a true convert in the world, I believe he is one.

Ald. You are very happy that God has so far blessed your endeavours with the child.

Wife. Not our endeavours, Sir, at all, we were denied that blessing. It comes all from you, Sir, the blessing is from your housc.

Ald. What do you mean?

Clo. It is a plain case, Sir.

Wife. If I understand you right, 'you spoke as if some of your servants had received no good from our William. If that be so, I know not; but I am sure William has received good from some in your house.

Ald. Yes, indeed, I found that a young lad I had newly bound was acquainted with this boy of your's, and that he was often abroad with him; and it has caused some disturbance among us; for knowing your lad was so wicked a boy, I forbade him to go in his company.

Clo. Pray what do you call this lad you speak of?
Ald. His name is Thomas, he is my youngest appren

tice.

Wife. I know not what harm he may have received from our boy, but I can assure you our boy has received much good from him.

Clo. Ay, that's the youth that God has made the instrument; he is a wonderful child.

Ald. He the instrument! How is that possible?

Clo. With God, Sir, all things are possible: assure

yourself, Sir, so it is; and such a convert as this child is I neither ever saw nor read of.

Ald, Why, our Thomas is a poor, melancholy, diseontented boy,-a mere child.

Clo. He is such a child, Sir, as I never met with the like. I find you do not know him.

Ald. Why, I never thought there was any thing in him, He is but young, and indeed we all thought him young in every thing. It is true, he is a sober, modest sort of a boy, and talks pretty well; but I never saw any thing extraordinary in him. He is so melancholy and discontented, we thought him distempered; and I have been at the point of turning him away.

Clo. You know, Sir, the scripture says, that "out of the mouths of babes and sucklings he has ordained praise." This child, as you call him, is an excellent Christian, and beyond his years capable of showing it. Perhaps, Sir, you never tried him.

Ald. No, indeed, not I, as I said to you before neighbour, I have no time to trouble my head about apprentices, I mean as to such things.

Wife. And as I said to you before, Sir, you have no need for it, for your apprentices are fit to teach others.

Ald. I am glad to hear it so; but I confess you surprise me with the thing. How are you satisfied with the truth of these things?

Clo. My wife can give you an account of the whole matter, if your worship pleases to have patience to hear it. Ald. I'll hear it with all my heart.

[Here the mistress relates the whole passage, and the discourse between her and the young man in the room over the work-house.]

But

Ald. I am amazed at this account you give me. pray tell me, was all this begun by his keeping company and conversing with my young man ?

Clo. Yes, all of it: he was the general mocker of every thing that was good, and began to do so in your young

man's company; and he was the first that reproved him for it; and he did it so seriously, and so effectually, that it has pleased God to work upon him as you see.

Ald. Then I have done that young man of mine a great deal of wrong.

Wife. If you have thought any evil of him, you have wronged him, indeed; for he is such a young man as will be a blessing to any family he comes into.

Ald. Indeed I have wronged him very much, especially if you can give me satisfaction about one thing; and which, to be free with you, was the principal reason of my coming to visit you at this time.

t

Clo. We will give you all the satisfaction we can, Sir.

Ald. Why, then, I'll tell you, that first, as I said before, I had some uneasiness at my young man's keeping company, as I was informed he did with this boy, who I heard you say was so wicked, that you knew not what to do with him, and talked of sending him to the correction house. But this was not all; I found my young man grew melancholy, and appeared discontented, as I told you just now, as if he did not like his business, though we cannot say that he omits or neglects any thing; but every morning, before day, he rises up in the dark, and goes out some where or other, and stays about half an hour, and then comes in again, and sits by himself all the rest of the time, till business begins. Every night he is missing again till about nine o'clock, and all the house takes notice of it. When I came to examine him about it, it was a long time before he would give me account where he spent his time; till at last I acquainted his father with it, and threatened him I would find out the bottom of it, unless he would make an ingenuous confession; then he gave this for an answer, that he was over the way at your house here. This increased my suspicion, because the hours he kept, I was sure, must be in the morning before you were up; and I concluded this wicked boy of your's, and he, spent their time together in some clandestine wickedness or

other, and the boy would be ruined; which I was very sorry for, his father being my very good friend.

Clo. I hope, Sir, you need not be apprehensive that he should get any ill in my house.

Ald. No, indeed, neighbour, I should not so far as you know of it. But what could their morning meetings be for, before you or your family were up?

Wife. What time is it exactly, Sir, that you say he comes and goes?

Ald. As I understand it, he goes about six, and is back between six and seven; which looked to me as if he came hither before you were up; and as soon as he found you beginning to stir, comes off again, and would not be

seen.

Clo. That cannot be the case, Sir; for we are all of us up every day, if we are well, before six, and at our work presently after six.

Ald. Well, but does he come at those hours in the morning, and about eight o'clock at night? Is he here as he tells me, or is he not?

Clo. Yes; I cannot deny but the young man is here at these hours very often.

Ald. Nay, if you do but know of it, I am easy to be satisfied, especially if this had been his business.

Wife. I hope your worship will not be angry with us for the young man's coming hither.

Ald. Not at all, if you are assured what his business is. Clo. It is not for us to say we are satisfied: he is your servant, Sir, and if we are not satisfied, I should be very sorry to have him come hither against your mind.

Ald. I say, if you are satisfied that his coming hither has been as you relate it, and that he has been a means of doing the young man so much good, I shall be satisfied, to be But what need is there of his coming so early in a morning, and so late at night? That indeed I do not understand. It seems to leave me in the dark a little, and this makes me ask if you are sure of the thing.

sure.