leave her mother, she's so ill that she can't help herself.

Poor Martha, indeed, we might say, if we looked only to her sorrows; but she has a witness of her filial piety who will not be unmindful of her. You know her well, Thomas, how I will she behave towards her father?

Why, Sir, you see her natural temper's very passionate and hot; but she's been taught so long the sin of it, and she's found by experience the mischief of it, that I think on that account she behaves milder and gentler than a meeker natural spirit would. There's this in it, that she's obliged to seek for grace, and throw herself on God, or else she couldn't do as she does. I remember she said to me once, after she had been telling me of the subject of the lessons they'd had on the fifth commandment, "Oh, Thomas, it's very hard to learn to honor my father when I see him so wicked; but my teacher said I must honor him as my father, and for that reason must obey him in all things that were not contrary to God's word. 'Hate his

sins,' she said, ' but try to turn him from them; pray for him and honor him as your father.' It's very hard, Thomas; but I'll try by God's grace to do it."

Poor girl! many a time she has run in here to hide the rising of her passion, and to try, by talking of God's word and her duty, to get the better of it; and then she's gone away like a meek lamb-like child.

Cannot we do anything for her, in this strait that she is in just now?

I believe, Sir, it's best to let her alone, she's experienced in these things, and she says the Lord often softens her father's heart when she thinks it the hardest; she'll take some opportunity of getting in when the door is opened for somebody else. Perhaps he'll fall asleep with liquor, and she'll get in at the low window if he's at the other side of the house.

It is a pain to me to leave her so; but if you think it best, we will not return that way.

I believe it would be best, Sir; for she suffers a deal of pain when her father's exposed; and he's often doubly outrageous if he thinks any one interferes.

As this was the case, however unwilling we felt, we did not trouble her by any more observations; and going another way we met a number of children of different ages at play in a very rude manner, and quarrelling at the same time about something that had taken place. Amongst them I was very sorry to see the two school boys with whom I had been before engaged; they recognized me immediately, and pulling another boy by the sleeve, made signs to get away over a gate by the road side.

Help me, I said to my friend, spread out your arms, and let us stop the way. We did so, and I demanded to know how they all came to be there at school time. They in general looked bold and indifferent to my inquiry. I shook my

head at my two former acquaintances, who only feared that the same thing might take place as before. We questioned them all individually, as to their names and places of abode, and on getting the answers we let them go, after having reasoned with them on their conduct; and then I proposed that we should go to their parents to see if we could trace out the true causes of this indolence and bad habit in the children.

The first house we came to was that of John Tomlins; he was a cobler, and we found him at work.

John, I came to tell you that we met your two boys and their little sister all playing truant; for suppose you ordered them to go to school.

I

Why yes, Sir, I told them to go; but they're not fond of school, and this fine weather, you see, is a bit of a temptation.

But you don't approve of their disobeying your orders, do you?

Why no, Sir; but it's not quite disobeying ; they know when I'm in earnest; I tells them, Sir, you see, but I winks like at their not doing it; I remembers being a lad myself

But that's a bad way of bringing them up; to tell them to do one thing, and then to wink at their doing another.

I don't know, Sir; but if they make as good. a man as their father, they'll get on in the same fashion.

I do not pretend to say what sort of a man their father is, as this is the first time I have seen

you; but I think it might be as well if they were better men than their father.

May be, Sir, he said, tapping the sole of the shoe he was mending.

You seem rather indifferent about their improvement?

Nay, I think I shall be able, through interest, to get 'em into a Charity to put 'em out 'prentices. But what sort of 'prentices will they make, if you have never taught them to serve God, or to be obedient to you?

Oh it will all come in good time, Sir, I

warrant.

I saw the character of the man, and that he was one of those that do not care to hear reason, and as we had little time we did not stay.

The next house was Betty Dobson's. We went in; she was just sweeping up the hearth and making the room tidy.

We are come to tell you, Betty, that we met your little girl playing truant with some other children. I dare say you thought she was at school?

Thank you, Sir, for telling me. I wish my girl would do better; but she's like to please herself; she must take the course she likes best.

That is being very cruel to your child; for children do not know what is best for them. Why, Sir, I never puts no constraint upon her, and then she can't quarrel with me. Do you always let her please herself?

I finds it best, and then we've no words, and

all goes on quietly; for if I offers to control her, there's such an uproar and riot, that all the neighbors would think I was killing her.

Do you think your reasons are good? Surely it is your duty to teach your children to honor and obey you?

Why, one may teach 'em, but one can't make 'em do it.

But if you endeavored in the name of the Lord to do it, you might find that he would help you; and he would lead them right.

You see, I should be very glad for some things; but it makes our house in such a tumult when her passion's up, that to keep quietness it's better to let her alone.

But are you not afraid of the consequences? What sort of a house will you have when she grows bigger and stronger, and all her bad passions and idle ways grow stronger too?

Sometimes I'm a bit afraid, but one puts off the evil day; and if I can get her out to place before she's very big, she'll get a bit broke, if I could get her with a spirited mistress.

Oh, what sad arguments are these with which you deceive yourself! I then endeavored to set before her, her duty to her child, according to the Lord's appointment; but I fear with very little impression.

As we walked on to the next house, my friend said, You see what I told you was right no discipline! no discipline!

Because no love of the law of the Lord, and