2 Bro. Hark! you are called just now; you will be of another mind when you come back, I'll warrant you. [The eldst son is called to come to his father.]

1 Bro. Never, as long as I live.

[Goes out.]

2 Bro. If my father's reasons do not persuade him, I can assure him his authority will, for he is resolved upon the thing.

Sist. What thing is it, brother? What is our father and mother going to do with us? For my part, I cannot imagine what they mean.

2 Bro. Why, really, sister, I find they have begun with the youngest first; for my father has been upon me, and my mother has begun with my sister Betty; but, you will have your turn too.

Sist. I think my mother has begun with me already; for I was but humming over a new song this afternoon, though church was done, and all over, and every body come home, but my mother was in such a passion with me that I never had so many words with her in my life. She would not let me go to the park, and had much ado to keep her hands

off me.

2 Bro. I heard she was angry with you: but it seems you answered her rudely.

Sist. I said nothing but that I would go to the park. 2 Bro. Well, but you told her you would go to the park whether she would or not.

Sist. Why, was that such a crime? And so I would say again.

2 Bro. Well, but if you did, you would not say it was well done, would you? And it seems she told you then, so I can satisfy you now, she would not take it from you, nor none of us, as she has done.

Sist. It may be so, and I have found it otherwise already.

2 Bro. What, has she not taken some books out of your closet?

-Sist. Some! Nay, she has only taken all my books

away.

2 Bro. I warrant she has left your Bible and prayer

books, and such as those.

Sist. Ay, those! What does that signify? She has taken away all my plays, and all my songs, and all the books that I had any pleasure in.

2 Bro. Yes, I have heard of it.

Sist. But I will have them again, or I'll lead her such a life, she shall have little comfort of me.

2 Bro. Truly, sister, you may fancy you may have them again; but I can satisfy you, most of them are past recovery; for I saw them upon the parlour fire before I came

up.

Sist. The fire! I'll go and pull them out before her face.

[Here she is raging, and in a violent passion at her mother, and makes as if she would run down stairs.]

2 Bro. Come, sister, you had as good be easy; for I find both our father and mother are agreed in the thing: and I must own I begin to see they have reason for it. For my part, I am inclined to submit to all the measures; for I think in my conscience we have all been wrong; and if my father and mother see reason to have me alter my conduct, and especially when I am convinced it is to be the better too, I think it is my part to submit,

Sist. I'll never submit.

[The sister cries again.]

2 Bro. Perhaps you will be persuaded, when my mother talks a little calmly to you. I believe my sister Betty is of another mind already.

Sist. I have had talk enough already. My mother tells me I shall not go to the park, nor to the play-house, nor patch, nor play at cards; I think this is talk enough. What, does my mother think to make a nun of me?

2 Bro. No, I dare say she does not.

Sist. No; and if she does, she will be mistaken; for I

shall not be hindered of my innocent diversions, let my mother do what she pleases.

2 Bro. But, sister, I do not think you find my mother unreasonable in what she desires, if you will but allow yourself leisure to think of it a little.

Sist. Unreasonable in her desires!

Pr'ythee can you

tell me what it is she does desire; for I cannot imagine what my mother would be at?

2 Bro. As for my mother I cannot be particular; but if you are willing to hear me, I'll tell you what my father said

to me.

Sist. You may tell me if you will, though I don't much care; I won't be made a fool of. What, I an't a baby to go to school again.

2 Bro. Why, look you, sister, you may stand out, if you will, a great while; but I warrant you must be content at last, for I do not see how you will help yourself.

Sist. I warrant you I'll help myself.

2 Bro. Then you must renounce your father and mother, and leave the family: and I do not see what good that will do you, for I am satisfied my father is resolute. I was going to tell you the short history of it, if you would have patience.

Early this morning, before we went to church, my father called me up into his chamber, and, after inquiring several things of me about my learning, my company, and my behaviour in the world, to which I made as good an answer as I could, he told me, with a great deal of tenderness, that he loved me so very dearly, that he intended to do very well for me, and that he had a particular kindness for me, that he had but one thing he desired of me, and that this was for my own good too, and desired to know if I was disposed to comply with him. I told him, I was very willing to do any thing to oblige him, who had been so good a father to me. He told me all he desired of me was this:-He had observed, that his family in general were running on into all kinds of levity and looseness,

which he was satisfied would be their ruin: that he had been remiss in his duty of instruction and reproof to his children; but that he begged God's pardon for that omission, and would do his best to make us all amends. He concluded with asking me whether I had rather be a rake or a sober man? I answered, I hoped he did not expect any reply from me to that, and that I hoped I had not gone so far as to make him doubt in the least that I did not design to be a sober man. Why, son, replies my father, you have no other way to do this, but to conclude, that if there was no divine law, no future state, no rewards or punishments; yet, regarding the honour and character which you expect in the world, you ought to be sober, if it were only to preserve your reputation. He told me, that I knew he had designed me for the practice of the law; that though he would do what he could for me, yet, as he had a great many other children, I must expect to live, or at least to advance myself, by my own merit and industry; and that a lawyer, like a virgin, having once lost the reputation of his virtue or sobriety, no body will meddle with him.

"I not only listened very attentively to my father's discourse, but, looking steadily upon him, I thought I saw more than usual tenderness and affection in him, all the while he was speaking. Whenever he mentioned his having omitted his duty to his family, I thought I saw tears standing in his eyes; and to hear him say, he begged God's pardon for the neglect of it, brought tears into mine. When he told me he would make us all amends for the future, it suggested to my mind, that my father supposed that this want of more early instructing us, who are his children, was our loss, as well as his fault, and that we were not such children as we should have been if we had been better taught. I must own to you, sister, these thoughts have since made a great disturbance in my mind. I thought I saw the two young ladies at the next door, and their brother too, look quite another sort of people than we did; they appear so modest, so sober, and yet so decently and

genteelly affable and pleasant, that I think they live quite another life than we do; they never swear, nor use lewd and profane words in their discourse; they never sit up all night at cards, or go a visiting on Sundays, nor do a bundred foolish things that our family makes a trade of; and yet they live as merrily, comfortably, sociably, and genteelly as we do.

"I must own to you, though I have often laughed at them, and ridiculed them before, yet my thoughts often told me they lived a more rational life than we did: and when I heard my father talk thus, it presently came into my thoughts, that if my father took the new course with his family as he talked of, we should begin to like them, and I thought that would be very well for us all.

"Well, after my father had gone on thus, and paused awhile, I suppose to hear whether I would say any thing to it or not, I told him I would be glad to do any thing to answer his end, and desired to know what it was he expected of me. My father said, the chief end of his discourse was then to convince me of the reasonableness and necessity of an alteration in my life, and of the advantages of a religious family, and of a sober and religious education; and for the rest, if I was first satisfied of the general, he knew it would be easy to bring me to comply with all the measures he should take to bring it about.

"We had a great deal more such discourse; but I told him I was very well satisfied that he designed nothing but our good, and I should be ready to observe all the injunctions he should lay on me. And truly, sister, now I begin to reflect upon it, I find a great deal of satisfaction in it; for, upon my word, I think we have lived very oddly all along; whether it were my father's fault, or our own, I don't inquire; but if we know no more, none of us, of the town, than we do of religion, we should be a very unfashionable family."

Sist. Pr'ythee don't fill my head with all this canting stuff; I don't value it a farthing.