O! I have ruined all my children," says the mother. "No, no, you have not ruined them; it is I that have ruined them," says the father. "I have neglected my duty to them." "But I have been the cause of your neglecting

your duty," says the mother.

Here is a complete view for parents, both of the error, the repentance, and the reformation;-the disease, the effects of it, and the manner of the cure. And as these are the foundation of what follows, so the following dialogues are an exemplification of most of the things contained in these discourses of the two parents, and the connection of them will be taken notice of throughout the whole work.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE.

For the better understanding this discourse, it is to be understood, that the father and mother, according to their resolution in the last dialogue, had set effectually about the reformation of their family, and about proper methods for reducing their children to an obedience to and sense of their duty.

Their children were most of them grown up, and had run a great length; they had been indulged in all possible folly and levity, such as plays, gaming, looseness of life, and irreligious behaviour: not immodest nor dishonest. These they were not yet arrived to. But they were bred up in gaiety and gallantry, as being of good fortunes and fashion; but nothing of religion more than just the common course of going to church, which they did because it was the custom and fashion, rather than with any other view. And being thus unhappily educated, we shall find the instruction they are now to bear met with the more opposition in them; and we shall see how it had a various effect, according to the different tempers and constitutions of the children.

Their eldest daughter was about eighteen years old; and her mother, it seems, began with her first. Her mother found it a very difficult matter to deal with her; for when she came to tell her of laying by her foolish romances and novels, of which she was mighty fond,-leaving off her patches and play-books, refusing her going to the park on the Sabbath-days, and the like,-she flew out in a passion, and told her mother, in plain words, that she would not be hindered, she was past a child, she would go to the park, and to the play, and the like, aye, that she would.

But the mother, whose resolution was too well fixed, after such an occasion as has been said, to be conquered by her daughter, having tried softer methods to no purpose, took her roundly to task, and told her, that as she took those measures with her for her good only, and that she could not satisfy her own conscience, to see her ruined, body and soul together, so she was resolved to be obeyed; and that, since she would not comply by fair means, she would take another course. This course, it seems, beside other things, which will appear in the following part of this dialogue, was particularly, that it being Sabbath-day, after they came from church, when her mother began this discourse, her daughter called for her coach to go to the park, as their custom, it seems, had always been; but her mother would not suffer her to stir out; and, upon her being a little stubborn or resolute, had used some little violence with her in showing her resentment, and threatened her, as will appear presently.

Upon this repulse, she flings up stairs into her chamber, where she sat crying; when her elder brother, whom the father, it seems, had not yet begun with, came to her; between which couple begins the following dialogue.

Bro. Sister! what, in tears: what's the matter now? [She cries on, but makes no answer.]

Bro. Dear sister, tell me your grievances? I say,

me what is it troubles you?

[And pulls her by her clothes.]

tell

Sist. I won't. Don't trouble me: I won't tell me alone.

[Sobs and cries still.]

you: let

Bro. Pr'ythee, what is the matter, sister? Why, you will spoil your face, you won't be fit to go to the park. Come, I came to have you go out, we will all go to the park.

Sist. Ay, so you may if you can.

Bro. If I can! what do you mean by that? I have ordered Thomas to get the coach ready.

Sist. "Tis no matter for that, I assure you he won't do it. Bro. I'll cane the rascal if he don't, and that presently too. Come, do you wipe your eyes, and don't pretend to go abroad with a blubbered face.

Sist. I tell you, Thomas will not obey you, he is otherwise ordered. You will find, that neither you nor I are to go out to-night.

Bro. Who will have the impudence to hinder us?

Sist. I have been hindered already; and my mother has told me in so many words, I not only shall not go to-night; but never any more on a Sunday; though I think I shall fail her.

Bro. What does my mother mean by that? Not go to the park! I must go, and will go, as soon as sermon is done. What harm is there in't? I warrant you we will go. Come, get you ready, and wipe your eyes.

Sist. You'll find yourself mistaken in my mother. I'll assure ye, I told her I would go, as you do me; and she was in such a passion with me, she struck me, which she never did in all her life before, and then read me a long lecture on the Sabbath-day, and being against her conscience, and I know not what; things I never heard her talk of in my life before. I don't know what ails her to be in such an humour.

Bro. Conscience! What does my mother mean by that? Why, have we not gone every Sunday to the park, and my mother always gone with us? What, is it against

F

I'll go

for al

her conscience now, and never was against her conscience before! that's all nonsense. I'll warrant this new bustle you make about it.

you

Sist. I'd go with all my heart; but I tell you she is in such a passion, you had better let her alone; it will but make her worse.

Bro. Pr'ythee don't tell me: I will go to the park if the devil stood at the door.

What, shan't I have the liberty to go out when I please? Sure I am past a boy, an't I? Sist. I tell you my mother is very positive, and you had better let her alone: you will but provoke her. You may do as you will,

Bro. Not I, I won't provoke her at all, for I won't ask her: I'll go out without her.

Sist. Then you will go without a coach too; for I assure you, as I said before, you won't get Thomas to go.

Bro. Then I'll take a hackney, and go to the Mall.

Sist. Come, brother, we had better let it alone for once, my mother will be better conditioned another time,-I hope this will be over.

Bro. Nay, I don't care. Come, let us read a book then. Have you never a play here? Come, I'll read a play to you.

Sist. Ay, what will you have?

Bro. Any thing.

[She runs to her closet for a play-book, and finds plays, novels, song-books, and others of that kind, taken all away.]

Sist. Oh, thieves! thieves! I am robbed!

Bro. Robbed! What do you mean, sister?
[He runs to her.]

Sist. All my books are gone! they are all gone! all stole! I have not a book left!

[Here you may suppose her taking God's name in vain very much, and in a great passion.]

Bro. What, all your books?

Sist. Every one that are good for any thing. Here's

nothing but a Bible, and an old foolish book about religion, I don't know what.

[Her brother looks.]

Bro. I think, as you say, they are all gone. No, hold, ere's a Prayer-book, and here's the Practice of Piety,and here's the Whole Duty of Man.

Sist. Pr'ythee what signifies them to me? But all my fine books are gone. I had a good collection of plays, all the French novels, all the modern poets, Boileau, Dacier, and a great many more.

Bro. What's the meaning of this?

Sist. I'll lay a hundred pounds this is my mother.

Bro. I believe so too. I wish my mother be not mad. This is horrid. What can my mother mean?

[The sister falls in a great passion of crying; the second brother comes up to them, and the father had been talking to him.]

2 Bro. What is the matter with my sister? What, is she not well?

1 Bro. I don't know what's the matter very well; but my mother has been ruffling her a little, and put her out of humour.

2 Bro. What has she done?

1 Bro. Why, she won't let her go to the park; and when she said she would go, my mother struck her; and we find she has taken away all her books. I can't imagine what the meaning of all this is. I think my mother is mad. 2 Bro. No, no, brother, my mother is not mad. If she is mad, my father is so too. You will not wait long to know what the meaning of it is; for you will hear of it quickly too yourself, that I can assure you.

1 Bro. I hear of it! What, from my father?

2 Bro. Yes, from my father. He has told me his mind already, and the reason and occasion of it; and I know he is inquiring for you, to do the like.

1 Bro. He may talk what he will to me; but I'll do what I please for all that.