planting it all over with these thistles." "Thistles," I exclaimed, "Why, yes," said Hodge, with the look of a man who has solid reasoning on his side-"I was walking the other day upon the common, thinking, as one may do, upon my fallow field, and how much money I wanted of, enough to buy manure for it, when my eye was taken by some tall, red flowers, growing in plenty on the waste. They looked very beautiful. The fine broad leaves lay gracefully folded upon the turf, while their fringed heads shone in the sun-beams, with colours that might have shamed the rainbow. Thistles are of no use, I know; but then my ground will bear nothing better at present-they will look pretty from the window, and will do no harm for a year or two: so here we are all at work-I have fetched them from the common; seed, roots, and all, and next summer we shall see." "Friend," said I, I have seen many men dig up thistles, but I never thought to see a man planting them." "But, perhaps," said Hodge, with conscious superiority of wit, "you have seen them plant things not half so pretty." "But your corn, good man-how is your future crop to grow, if you fill the ground with thistles?" "Bless your heart," said Hodge, with a look of contempt, "why then, to be sure, we can dig them up again-time enough yet-may be you an't used to digging." It was vain to resist the goodman's last argument, with all the hidden meanings with which his air invested it-viz. that I had better mind my own business-that I was talking about what I did not understand-that I never had a field-and that if I had, I should en attendant plant it over with thistles-therefore I passed on. So did summer heats and winter's cold, and blithely the thistles grew. The common never bore a finer crop; and, with all my prejudice, I was obliged to own the flowers looked very pretty.

Meantime the goodman's store increased-the funds were forthcoming-the field was ploughed and sownthe wheat came up, and so did the thistles. A chancery r f

VOL. VII.

suit could not have ejected them after so long possession. They had all the advantage; for while the wheat was to be sown afresh for each succeeding year, the thistles came up of themselves. Then they were goodly men and tall-they lifted their heads to the sun-beams, and scattered their seeds in the breezes, while the sickly wheat lay withering in their shade. I did not question my goodman of his crops. Every spring I saw him rooting up thistles, and every summer I saw the thistles blow-and for every one he left, there next year came up twenty. Whether as years advanced, they became less numerous, or whether he lived to see them exterminated, I cannot say I have left that part of the country.

Do my readers not believe my story? Is my goodman's folly too impossible? Let them consider a little— for I have seen other labourers than he, who sow a harvest they would be loath to reap, and trust to future years to mend it. Of those who doubt the sanity of my goodman Hodge, many may thoughtlessly be doing the same thing; whether they be parents, whose fondest charge is the education of their children, and their fondest hopes its produce; or whether their one small field be the yet unsettled character of their own youthful mind. In my extensive listenings, I have seen many things that have surprised me only less than the reasonings by which they were defended; but I would rather speak upon the general principle, than particularize in the application of it; except it be some few instances. by way of illustration. I believe the application can scarcely, in any case, be equivocal. Every careful mother knows, every reflecting woman knows, what is the moral produce she desires of the mind she has to cultivate-or rather let me say, every Christian knows, what are the fruits the absent Lord of the domain expects should be rendered him, by those whom he has left in charge. If these fruits be purity and holiness of heart, simplicity and sobriety of mind, pious consistency

of purpose, and a life of determined separation from all that is sinful in the practices of the world, what are we to say of the honesty, or of the competency of that steward, who, to produce them, sows the seeds of folly, and plants the root of pride, and encourages the growth of earthliness, and cultivates a taste for things forbidden? I have talked, or listened to many parents on this subject, during the education of their families. I have seen a father encourage his boys to fight out an amateur battle, for the right of possession to a puppy-dog, and yield it to the victor-and when I asked him if he intended his boys should in after life take possession by force, of what they could not prove a right to, he said, No-but boys must learn courage-it was their nature to fight, and it was good exercise for their limbs--they would know better when they were men. I have seen a mother take her daughters to a dancing-school, to be taught every fashionable manoeuvre of the ball-roomand when I asked her if she meant her daughters should be introduced to amusements she did not herself approve, she said, She hoped not-the principles she laboured to instil, would, she trusted, prevent it-but till they were of an age to feel their influence, she must let them do as others do-there was no harm in children's dancing. I have seen a teacher bring tears and blushes upon the cheek of a pains-taking booby, by showing him the achievements of his brother, assuring him, that while the younger brother was sent to college, he, for his stupidity, must go behind the counter. I asked him if he wished that, when that boy became a man, he should be pained by the superiority of others, or ashamed of the station to which providence assigned him. He answered me, Nay-but emulation was the finest thing in the world-it was impossible to make anything of boys, without the stimulus of rivalry. I have asked a lady, whose children I saw every evening playing at cards for half-pence, and vehemently contending for success, whether she was bringing them up to

be gamesters, or to waste their hours in frivolous pursuits and unwholesome excitations of temper and feeling. Half laughing and half angry, as at a foolish question, she said, of course not-but it did not signify how children amused themselves. Of another, who was cramming her children's minds with most pernicious nonsense, in the form of books; I asked her if she meant that they should be weak, ill-judging, and romantic women-She too said, No-but children did not understand sensible books-she was glad to get them to read at all, and should give them better books when they were older. A few times in my life, I have seen parents take-no, not take, for they would themselves have been ashamed to be seen there-but send their children to the theatre, and other publick places, which they had taught them to consider as inconsistent with the spiritual requirements of the Gospel, and the safe conduct of a corruptible nature through a corrupting world-alleging that it was desirable at a certain age, to let young people taste these pleasures, that they might better appreciate the nature and tendency of them.

A

Let me pause a moment. Of those who are reading this, some will say, "But we do not think there is any harm in publick places, in dancing, in boxing, and all these things you talk about." I answer, that makes not to the question. What I particularize applies only to those who do think these things objectionable, as leading into sin, and who wish their children should grow up in this opinion. To you these instances may not applybut if there is anything in the world you do think wrong or unbecoming in man or woman, suppose that to be the thing I have instanced, and the case will be in point. I meant not to blame any one for planting the root of which he wished to gather.

One word to those young persons, who are free, or are allowed in some measure to judge for themselves→ and perhaps a few years more of age, may not make the words unapplicable. What is it you intend to be? A

child of God, a purified jewel of the Redeemer's crown, a heavenly plant, bearing seed a hundred-fold-walking not after the course of this world in the vanity of your minds, but in meet and holy preparation for the bliss of Heaven? Do you desire to fulfil the purport of your baptismal vow, to renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the carnal desires of the flesh, so that you will neither follow nor be led by them-obediently to keep God's holy will and commandments, and walk in the same all the days of your life-even as you have pledged yourself to do, in these words or others of like import? These are great fruits-your fallow field is ill-disposed to bear them-the air about you is well prepared to blight them. O! why are you so bold? Why do you reason so absurdly, and act so foolishly, as in many cases you are seen to do? When you insist on going once, but to see you know it is wrong-you do not mean to make a practice of it. When you seek companions and employments you know will dissipate your thoughts and unsettle your habits-when you poison your minds, and stimulate your passions, and heat your imagination, and pervert your taste, by every species of pernicious reading and unhallowed talk, by ambitious schemes and unsanctified desires? Would you be persuaded, would those who have the management of others but consider— how hard a thing it is to purify and make meet for glory a spirit born in sin and conceived in iniquity, prone to evil as the sparks fly upward, but to all good unwillingly a soil that bears indigenous every bitter and unwholesome weed, but will only be cultured into fruitfulness by toil and care, favoured with the dews of heaven and the sunbeams of celestial grace. We must have had small experience in life, and less in religion, if we do not know the difficulties, the miseries, the conflicting feelings entailed upon us by the tastes and associations of our past lives. How very difficult it is, with every motive and inclination to the work, to subdue one evil propensity, or