knit; and my fecond fon, Billy, has got a loom, which our worthy 'Squire gave him, and weaves very tidily; and my wife always keeps us well mended: fhe can put on many a patch, but the will never let us appear ragged; but then, mafter, we get all this by living in the fear of God.

F. Why, Thomas, you live fo orderly, I fhould be glad to ftop a little longer, that I might hear more of your way of living.

T. Why, mafter, it would look fo much like bragging and boafting, were I to tell you about our poor way of ferving God in our cottage, fince he has changed my heart, that I fhould be quite afhamed of myself.

F. Nay, but I must hear it, that I may tell it to my wife and daughters: perhaps they may mend their ways, if I tell them of yours.

T. Well mafter, if Madam Littleworth and your daughters can get any good by it, as you infift upon it, I will tell you how we live, both on week days and on Sundays. When I am call'd to labour, as foon as my wife and I are out of bed, I kneel down and go to prayer by the bed-fide; then I go to work; fhe dreffes the children and fets the houfe in order: when I come home to breakfast, the milkporridge, or what my wife can get for us, is all ready, we never have any tea, but on Sundays, for it won't do for a hard-working family, and many of our neighbours call it fcandal broth.

F. Ah! Thomas, I fear you are right there, for when my wife and daughters have their goffips, and our little Sam, the plow-boy, puts on his livery, that we may look like gentlefolks, I hear nothing else.

T. Well, mafter, then I make my eldest boy ask a blesfing, and then the victuals goes down with a blessing, Next I make the children fay a hymn, or fome other good leffon out of the books that our Minifter gives us, and one of the other children returns thanks. After that my wife takes down the Bible, and reads a chapter, and I go to prayer: then I go to work; and, as you know, master, take my eldest fon Thomas with me; and he helps me wonderfully; and 1 do think I can do almoft double the work fince I have had him with me. I really think, mafter, your daughters would not be able to spend so fast, if I and my fon did not work fo hard; but I love to work for a good mafter.

F. Well,

F. Well, Thomas, I fhall have no objection against raifing your fon's wages, for he is a good lad.

T. Thank you kindly, mafter, for the times are very fharp, and my fon is a growing hungry boy.-But I will tell you what we do next; I come home to dinner. Now you know, mafter, as we have a bit of a garden, which I dig up at odd times, and we keep a pig, which we kill in the winter; what between the pickings out of the garden, and the acorns the children pick up out of the 'Squire's park, and a little barley meal, it does not coft us much to keep it; fo that we can get a flice of bacon, and that relishes the potatoes, and garden-ftuff; and I really think we are as thankful for that as many a lord is for twenty times as much; then 1 make one of the children read a bit of the Pilgrim's Progrefs, or fome other good book that Mr. Lovegood gives us; and then I go to my work; and mafter, if you please, I'll tell you the thanksgiving hymn I fing as I walk along.

F. Well, Thomas, let us hear it, for I am told you could fing as merry a fong as any of us before Mr. Lovegood came into your parish.

T. Well, then, mafter, this is my fong:

My heart and my tongue fall unite in the praise
Of Jefus, my Saviour, for mercy and grace;
He purchas'd my pardon by fhedding his blood,
And bids me inherit the peace of my God.
My lot may be lowly, my parentage mean,
Yet born of my God, there are glories unfeen;
Surpaffing all joys among finners on earth,
Prepared for fouls of a heavenly birth.
Redeem'd from a thousand allurements to fin,
I find in my cottage my heaven begin;
And foon fhall I lay all my poverty by,
Then manfions of glory for ever enjoy.

By the fweat of my brow, while I labour for bread,
Yet guarded by Him not an evil I dread;
And while I'm poffefs'd of all riches in Thee,
My poverty comes with a bleffing to me.

My labouring drefs I fhall foon lay afide,

For a robe bright and fplendid, a dress for a bride;
A bride that is married to Jefus the Lamb,

Shall be clad in the robe which is ever the fame.

Yet fav'd by the mercy of Jefus I'm blefs'd;

Fresh ftrength for my labour on earth he bestows,
And above I fhall bask in eternal repose.

F. I

1

F. I confefs, Thomas, you fing better fort of fongs than we fing at our Christmas merry-makings; but let us hear how you end the day?

T. After my work I return home. Down I fit, and all my children come round me. I muft confess, master, I am a little too fond of the twins, they are a pair of brave children! So I put one on the one knee, and the other on the other; then I give them all a kifs, and my hearty bleffing, for I love them dearly, and could work my skin to my bones to fupport them; then I afk them what work they have done, how they have behaved to their mother, and to each other; then I make the children read out of fome good book, and I tell them what it means, and inftruct them as well as I am able. Next we have a bit of fupper, as the times will afford, and then my wife reaches down the Bible, and reads a chapter; next we fing an evening, or fome other good hymn, and I go to prayer after my poor fashion; and then our beds feel fweet to us; for, the Lord be praised! we have nothing to fear, for poverty keeps the door from thieves, and a peaceable mind foon fets us all asleep.

F. You have told me how you live, I confess I should be afhamed to tell you how we live; but Thomas, I don't pretend to be a Saint; but the houfe would be all in an uproar if I was to call my family to fay their prayers as often

as you do.

T. Many and many a man may fay prayers and never

pray.

F. Ah! true, Thomas, and fo I thought when Mr. Doolittle came to our houfe, while our daughter Polly was likely to die of a brain fever; I thought it was fhocking when he came to fay his prayers to her, that the man who could come with Madam Doolittle and his children to our houfe two or three times a year to fupper, and cards, (what games and rackets we ufed to have !) and now he was to fay his prayers, which I am fure he would not have done, if Polly had not been fick; but oh! how it fhocked me to hear her afk, for fhe was out of her mind, after he had done: If they might not have a game at Whift? Thomas, I think I must have your parfon with me when I die, if I do not like him fo well as I fhould while I live.

T. But, mafter, if I may be fo bold, what came of it when Mifs Polly recovered? If you fent for Mr. Doolittle to pray with her, did you not fend for him when she got better, to return thanks?

F. Oh!

F. Oh! no; we forgot all that: but the parfon fent a card, as my daughters call it, to tell them that he and his family would come and fee them upon Polly's recovery : and fuch a piece of work there was to make out a proper card in return, how they fhould word it, and how they fhould fpell it; for my daughters having been bred up in a farmer's houfe, and then fent to a boarding-fchool, are neither farmer's daughters nor gentlefolks; but, however, religion was never thought of then.

T. Well, mafter, I muft not find fault with your parfon, and I think you cannot find fault with mine; but by your defire, I am next to tell you how we fpend the Sunday.

F. Why every day feems to be a Sunday with you, but as do not then go to work.

you

T. But, mafter, we have fomething better ftill on the Sunday.

F. (Taking out his watch) I can't walk very faft, and I muft not ftop any longer, as it is dinner-time; but I'll be here again to-morrow, and then you thall tell me how you ́ fpend your Sundays, and here is a fhilling for your boy.

T's Son. I thank you, mìafter, and be fo good as to thank young miftreffes for the fix pence they gave me when I brought the band-boxes from Madam Flirt, the milliner's.

F. Ah! band-boxes! fince my daughters have come home from boarding-fchool, they have all turned out fuch fine miffes, that the family is all in an uproar. Such newfangled fashions and cuftoms I never faw before. I rue the day I ever fent my daughters to that boarding-school : but I muft go-good day, Thomas!

T. Your fervant, mafter.

Surry Chapel.

[The Second Dialogue in our next.]

R. HILL.

*Thefe Dialogues will be printed alfo for The Religious Trac Society and fold at their Depofitory.

MR. EDITOR,

ON DEEDS OF TRUST.

A Correfpondent in your last Number, favoured your readers with information upon the forms of trufts for money appropriated to religious purpofes, which there is reafon to believe will be a uteful directory in future cafes; and it appears to me that it might be equally acceptable,

to

to many country congregations, if fome profeffional or other gentlemen, were to furnish, through the fame channel, a sketch of the most eligible form of a truft-deed for fecuring places of worship, to the uninterrupted ufe of their refpective congregations.

CONGREGATIONALIST.

LEARN TO STOOP;

An Anecdote. *

The celebrated Dr. Franklin, of America, once received a very useful leffon from the excellent Dr. Cotton Mather, which he thus relates in a letter to his fon, Dr. Samuel Mather, dated Paffy, 12th May, 1781.

"TH

HE laft time I faw your father was in 1724. On taking my leave, he fhewed me a fhorter way out of the house, through a narrow paffage, which was croffed by a beam over head. We were still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning towards him; when he said haftily-STOOP-STOOP! I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never miffed an occafion of giving inftruction; and upon this he faid to me-You are young, and have the world before you: STOOP, as you go through it, and you will miss many hard thumps. This advice, thus beat into my heart, has frequently been of use to me: and I often think of it, when I fee pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people, by their carrying their heads too high."

Dr. Franklin, in the fame letter, obferves that he was firft ftimulated to the improving his time and talents by reading an effay of Dr. Cotton Mather's, On doing good. The writer of this article has often heard of this book, but could never obtain it. Would it not be a public benefit to re-print it? The times require every exertion of this kind, and the public mind feems difpofed to beneficence.

G. B.

Extracted from a note annexed to "The Agency of God in Human Greatness," one of the Sermons in a volume of excellent Difcourfes, by Dr. John Erskine, of Edinburgh. 1798.

RELIGIOUS