deed. On the supposition, however, that the facts recorded in the bible are true-that God will punish the wicked and reward the righteous. What will become of you, dying in a state of impenitence and unbelief?

Freeman looked grave, and paused; at length, he exclaimed, 'Well, well! there is something in your last sentence certainly; but, my dear fellow, Paine's arguments are so strong, and he is so great an advocate for freedom in politics and religion, that

Melville.-Excuse me, rather say licentiousness, than freedom, for He is the free man whom the truth makes free.' I have often heard my dear father say, that great reformers are generally great tyrants, and the history of the French Revolution proves it; I need only mention the name of Robespierre, I remember a man who lived near us, once a zealous professor of religion, but afterwards warped by the writings of Paine, whose constant cry was liberty and the Rights of Man; but his vicious practise explained the nature of his principles. While he had his own rights, he cared not for the rights of others, and when he departed from religion, he departed from order and decency; the poison of asps was under his lips, and his mouth was full of cursing and bitterness; he was a tyrant in his family, and displayed the same character in bis conduct generally.

The Porter enters.-If you please, Mr. Freeman, there is a person who wishes to speak to you; he says he must see you directly; he has a paper in his hand, and, I think, looks like a constable.

Freeman.-Why did you not tell him I was not in the house?

Porter. No, no, sir! (shaking his head) I will not tell a falsehood for any one; I wonder that a gentleman like you should wish me to do so.

Freeman blushes, and walks into the warehouse muttering.-Well, sir! what is your business?

Constable.-Read that paper, sir! (Leaves the warehouse.)

(Freeman reads.)—' Mr. Arthur Freeman; you are hereby required to attend at the Police Office this day at 12 o'clock, to answer to certain charges brought against you by the watchman of the north division, &c., &c.

Melville.-Was it really a constable, Mr.

Freeman?

Freeman.-An unlucky business, indeed! After we left the tavern last night, where we drank rather freely, one or two of the party were rather in for it, and, unfortunately, molested the watchman in his box; I wish it had not happened! what excuse can I make to Mr. Le Monde for my absence?

Melville.-Tell hin the truth, and act more wisely in future.

Freeman.-No, no! that will never do.(pauses.)-Now I have it; I will tell him my uncle wants to see me on urgent business. Melville.-Ah, Freeman! sin brings sorrow; this is one of the evil effects of late hours; is this what the religion of nature teaches you? Will such things as these induce me to imitate your conduct? No, sir, my fanatical principles, as you have termned them, teach me to regard the truth-to be temperate in all things, to

Freeman.-I cannot stay to hear the rest of your sermon; give Mr. Le Monde that note, and tell him I will return very soon-(retires). Le Monde enters.-All alone, Robert; where is Freeman?

Melville.-He desired me to give you this note, sir.

Le Monde reads.-His uncle! I very much question the truth of this, but I will take no notice of it at present. We are now alone Melville, and it affords me a high degree of pleasure to express my satisfaction at your behaviour since you came hither: I am sorry that you have some very bad examples before you, but although I am not religious myself, God help me! yet I know how to value those that are really so, and, I am persuaded, that if

you pray to the Almighty, he will preserve you from being ensnared in any temptations; as to Freeman, he is a worthless fellow, and has, I fear, nearly ruined Elworthy, but I assure you, I am not to blame, for I have given them both good advice, and charged them to avoid bad company, taverns, and theatres, but in vain; they appear to be bent upon their ruin; they despise religion, and I have no confidence in those who do not esteem and follow its admirable dictates.

Melville expressed his thanks to Mr. Le Monde for his advice and good opinion, and assured him, that although he had not seen much of the world, yet he was determined, by divine assistance, to adhere rigidly to the instructions of his dear parents.

Freeman found his thoughtless companions at the Office, and, after a strict examination, the magistrate threatened to commit them for assaulting the watchman, until they found bail for their appearance at the Quarter Sessions; the watchman was, however, prevailed upon to make up the affair, upon receiving a compensation from the offenders, and after the sitting magistrate had given them a severe reprimand, they were suffered to depart.

Mrs. Elworthy's health continued still to decline; she had been attended by one of the most eminent physicians, but his efforts were

ineffectual, and, as the last resort, she was advised to remove into the country, and try what change of air might produce. Never did the consolations of religion appear stronger than in the support they administered to her mind; her faith in the son of God inspired in her a lively hope of the glory and felicity of the world to come, “I have no fear," said she, "of dying, for death will be my eternal gain; one thing only depresses my spirits, it is the visible change in my son's conduct, oh! my son! my son! And is it possible, that the prayers and instructions, and dying admonitions of his dear father, will prove ineffectual? May we not claim the promise made to Abraham, 'I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee!' "

"Madam," replied the Rev. Mr. Singleton, who had called to see her, "there is the greatest encouragement for you to hope that your son will be reclaimed, and brought to seek his everlasting salvation; but you may not be permitted to see this; your case is not singular; many eminently pious characters have been grieved by the unruly and rebellious conduct of their children, and some of God's honoured servants have sighed in the bitterness of their spirit, on account of their wayward family; an only son, whose pious relatives have ardently desired to see walking in the