world? Is there one family in ten that does? Nay, is there one family in this town that docs, except that good man over the way there, the clothier?

Tom. Yes, my father does, I never knew him omit it in my life, if he was well; and our minister does, and some that I know in the town: nay, I know none that do not.

Jour. I am sure I know twenty families in the town that do not, and yet call themselves good Christians too; and I never believed our master did.'

Tom. I'll never believe such a thing of my master; besides, han't I heard the little children say to one another, they must go up to prayers?

Jour. Nay, then, to be sure he does; I am very glad of it. I wish he would call us all up.

Tom. No question, if my master knew you wished so, he would; but we don't live as if we desired it. I believe that is the reason we are left to live like heathens, as we are,

1 Prex. I am sorry we have given him so much cause to think so, and indeed, Thomas, it is but too true,

Jour. Well, for all that, he might have gone to prayers. Tom. So he does, I tell you; but does not think us fit people to join with him.

Jour. Why, the worse we are, have we not the more need of being prayed for?

Tom. But I cannot, but say he might have good reason to shut us out, that our bad example might not be shown to his children.

Jour. Why, thou makest us worse than heathens, boya what do you mean? Do you believe, that if my master should come now, and say to us all, that though he finds we do not regard such things, yet that he resolves to go to prayers every night and morning, and we may come if we will, that we would not all say, we would come with all our hearts? I am sure I would for one.

1 Pren. I am sure I'd down on my knees, and thank him for it; for I am more concerned at seeing how we live now, than ever I was,

Tom. I am sure I'd thank him, and thank God for it too, and think it the best day that ever I saw in my life.

2 Pren. I have heard all your discourse, and have said but little; but I tell you, I'll never jest with any body for praying to God again, while I live. I wish my master would begin with us, and try.

1

Any one may judge how the master, who heard all this discourse, was moved with it; being before affected with the sense of having lived in a total neglect of his duty to God and his family, and having thus providentially, the great obstruction to his duty removed, by hearing all his men servants, whom he thought refractory and ungovernable, declare themselves touched with a sense of their loss, in being shut out from the worship of God, professing their willingness to join in a religious regulation, and their desire of having their master begin it.

Wherefore, coming hastily out of his closet into the place, and the young men rising up to be gone, ho bids them all stay and sit still. "I have heard all your discourse," says the master," and I bless God that I have heard it. I am very well pleased with every part of it. I do own to you all, that it has been a hindrance to my desire of setting up the worship of God in my family, that I thought my young men, having their full liberty in the world, mado no account of such things, and might perhaps mock at me for it, as I heard you have done at the poor clothier over the way. And though it was my duty to have done it, however you had behaved, yet I confess it has been such a snare to me, as has kept me back from what I knew to be my duty. But since I have providentially heard your discourse upon this subject, and that you seem to be sensible of your own duty, and of your loss in the omission of mine, and appear willing to join in a solemn manner in familyprayer, I will not be wanting to you, nor wanting to myself, in not performing my duty any longer, but, according to my duty, and your desire, call you all up, together with the rest of my family, to worship God, and pray to him for

missing. I hope you will convince me you are in ear

today. In vour attendance at that time.”

Deurneyman told him, yes, for his part, he would

win at his heart.

De arst prentice told him, that since he had heard him upon his knees, he would per

Muse a prvense to thank him

mike and kneeling down, he thanked God that he had pun bis heart; and thanked his master as he had proand assured him the very thoughts of it rejoiced his

Poor Thomas, the youngest 'prentice, his heart was so fell, he cried for joy, and could not speak a word.

The other 'prentice told his master he was very sorry he he had been one of them that had hindered him before, but assured him it should be so no more.

The good man went up with joy to his wife, and giving her an account how his second difficulty was thus providentially removed, told her the whole passage. The pious lady rejoicing at the thing, and willing to prompt him on to put his resolution in practice before it might cool and fall off again, persuaded him the same evening to call his family together, and, beginning with reading the scriptures, to go to prayer with them, which he did; and from that time forward he had always sober religious servants, and kept a most regular family-worship, instructing und catechising both his children and servants, to the great encouragement and increase of true godliness and holy living in that town, by his extraordinary example.

PART III.

f

AT

THE FIRST DIALOGUE.

T the end of the first part of this work, the father of the family having effectually set about reforming his house, and brought all his children, except his two eldest, to conform to his new regulation, this part gives something of an historical account of the two refractory branches of that family, viz. the eldest son, and the eldest daughter. The son pursuing the dictates, not of his reason, but of his passion, and having some estate independent of his father, gratifies his disgust at his father's imposing upon him, as he calls it, and goes abroad to travel. His conduct, as a pattern or warning to disobedience, is followed by continual judgments, disasters, and distempers; till his estate is wasted and gone, he is brought to humble himself to his father, and submit to him, however unwilling and unrereformed, not as a true penitent, but for mere subsistence, and for want of bread.

This is improved to be instructive of many things, both to children and parents.

1. It shows something of the mischievous consequence of leaving estates to children entirely independent of their parents, especially where no visible objection lies against the trust being reposed in the parent; and tells us, that though in some cases it may be necessary to do thus, yet it ought to be avoided as much as possible; it being, in ge

neral, a fatal obstruction to paternal authority, a foundation of children refusing instruction, and especially of ibeir not bearing reproof; besides, that oftentimes the consequences are such, that the children had better be without such estates.

2. This example warns children also, that though they may, by provision from friends, be made independent of their parents, they are not thereby discharged of their duty to their parents in the least; and great judgments from heaven generally follow those who totally cast off the subjection they owe to their parents on that account.

3. First or last, a contempt of paternal instruction is nothing else but laying on a great stock for repentance.

The daughter, who of the two appeared the most obstinate, and could not bear the restraint which her father's new discipline obliged her to, got leave of her father and mother to go and live with her aunt, her father's sister, who lived at some distance from them in London; where, though the family was strictly religious, as is before noted, yet being there but as a guest, she could better comply with it than at home, where she had been used to liberties, and left to herself; and where the change being by con straint, was the harder for her to stoop to.

Her aunt, a sober religious gentlewoman, and her uncle, a grave, pious, good Christian, treated her with great kindness and courtesy: and, as she had been very well bred, good manners obliged her to return it. Here an unforeseen providence gave a turn to the whole course of her life. The young lady being of a good natural temper, a modest handsome carriage, and an agreeable person, her uncle's eldest son, by a former wife, fell in love with her, and, by a consent of his father, a proposal of marriage was made between them: and this part is made public in this manner, because the circumstances of this marriage have something in them very instructing to young married people, to let them see how much it is their unquestioned and indispensible duty to make the good of one another's souls