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against your father, and I can have nothing to say to you till you have obtained his pardon: go away!" Henry was going to speak again, but his mamma got up and went into a closet, where she kept her books and work, shutting the door after her. Henry looked after her till she shut the door: then, throwing his grammar on the table, he ran out into the garden; and, running into an arbour, out of sight of the house, he broke out into a violent burst of tears, crying, "What shall I do? what shall I do? Oh, Papa! Oh, Mamma! Oh, Lucy! Oh, Emily!" Though he cried so loud, nobody came to comfort him; and though John passed not far distant, he took no notice of his cries.

Henry staid in this arbour, sobbing and crying, about half an hour: then, going out at a back gate, he went out into the lane, and turned to go up the little round hill, because from the top of that hill he could see every one who came in and went out of his papa's house. There he sat down on the bench under the trees, with his eyes fixed on his dear home. All about him was quite silent: there was no sound, excepting the buzzing of flies and the distant lowing of cattle. As he sat, he began to think of his behaviour to his papa; and the more he thought of it, the more he became sensible of his ill behaviour." And suppose," said he, "my papa should never take me into favour again, and should never let me play with Lucy and Emily any more, or my dear mamma should never love me again!" and then he broke out afresh in crying, and cried a long time. At last his attention was drawn by seeing some one walking among the trees in his papa's garden: it was his papa himself, who had been walking in the coppice, and was now returned. Mr. Fairchild went into the house, and soon returned again with Mrs. Fairchild, and Lucy and Emily, all prepared for walking. Henry watched

to see which way they would go: they turned towards the coppice, and he lost sight of them. Henry again began to think, and he tried to consider what he first remembered of himself, and of his papa and mamma, and sisters. The first thing he remembered of his mamma, was being fed by her with bread and milk, and afterwards being laid in a little bed by her, and kissed; and the first thing he remembered of his papa, was riding upon his foot, in turns with Lucy and Emily: he remembered also his mamma singing him to sleep with a hymn, and his papa reading him a little prayer, all which seemed to him very long ago. "And have I offended this dear papa and mamma?" cried Henry, bursting afresh into tears: "have I offended them by my wicked obstinaey? Oh! I will go and kneel before my papa, and beg him to forgive me. -And yet I dare not go! he is so very angry, and I have been so very wicked!"

Whilst Henry thought of these things, he saw his papa and mamma and sisters going up the hill where the hut stood, and where he had read to them the Story in Lucy's Book. The distance made them appear very small. Lucy and Emily did not run gaily before their papa and mamma, as they used to do when he was with them, but walked slowly after them. Henry thought of the many happy times when he had gone out a walking with his and mamma and dear sisters; " and papa perhaps," said he, "I shall never walk with them again! Oh, I have been very wicked!" He sat still, till he saw them go up to the hut and come down again; and when he had lost sight of them again, he got up from the bench to come down the hill, but by some accident he fell, and cut his knee and his lip against some loose stones. He got up: aud his first thought was, that he would go to his mamma for some nice plaster, which she always

used on these occasions; but he immediately recollected that his mamma would do nothing for him now, and he sat down again and cried very pitifully.

Whilst Henry was crying, he saw John coming that way. John passed under the hill, and looked at Henry Henry called out, "Oh, John! oh, John! I have fallen down and hurt myself." John turned, and stood at the bottom of the hill till Henry came down to him. "I have hurt my knee, John, and my lip."

"And do you not deserve all that has happened to you, you naughty boy?" said John. "Go home, go home, and beg your papa's pardon on your knees: perhaps he may forgive you."

Henry intended to do as John desired him-he went home: but when he got to the house, he found that Mr. Somers was come, and was with his papa, and he felt ashamed to beg pardon before Mr. Somers; so he went up stairs to his little room, and there sat down at the foot of his bed, crying. Several times he heard somebody running up stairs, and hoped that they were coming to him. At last Betty came with a piece of bread and a cup of water. Henry spoke to her, but she made him no answer, and went down stairs. He then got up, and stood at the window, watching to see Mr. Somers go, and thinking he would go and beg his papa's pardon as soon as Mr. Somers was gone; but Mr. Somers walked out with Mr. Fairchild after dinner, and came in to tea with him.

Whilst Mr. Fairchild and Mr. Somers were walking in the garden, somebody came up softly to the door of Henry's room and pushed a paper under the door, and then Henry heard the person run away. It was Lucy. Henry took up the paper: it was folded up like a letter, and Lucy had written these words upon it:

'Dear Brother,

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Emily and I must not speak to you; but we have been praying for you. I hope you are sorry for being naughty, and that you have prayed to God, and told all your wickedness to him. know that He will forgive you, if you ask Him in our Saviour's name! and that He will send his Holy Spirit into your heart. I have not time to 'say more.

'Your dear Sister,

LUCY FAIRCHILD.'

As he

When Henry had read this letter he looked for his little hymn-book, which he always kept, with his Bible, on a shelf just over his bed's head; and when he had sung a hymn, he prayed. prayed, all that remained of his proud and obstinate spirit seemed to leave him, and he felt nothing but shame and sorrow for his sins. He prayed and sung till it grew dark, and then he laid himself on his bed and fell asleep."

I shall put down Henry's hymn and prayer in this place, for the use of children when they are in disgrace with their papas and mammas, or their masters and teachers.

A Prayer for a humble Spirit under Correction, that we may be the better for Correction given us.

O Lord God Almighty, I am a very wicked child! I have made my dear parents angry, by disobeying their commandments; and when they punished me, instead of being humble, I was angry and proud. O Lord God, take this pride and obstinacy out of my heart, that I may feel that I have deserved this punishment, and indeed a much greater, had it pleased them to give it to me. Did not my dear Saviour bleed and die for my sins? and do I not know that there is not one per

son who is good; and that there is not a just man on earth, that doeth good and sinneth not? and yet, when any punishment comes upon me I am ready to rebel, and think myself very ill used! O holy Father, send thy Holy Spirit to humble my proud heart, to set all my sins before me, and particularly this fault that I have done to-day; that I may be truly sorry for it, and that I may bear my punishment with patience, and that I may remember this punishment, and be the better for it, all the days of my life.

HYMN XXV.

WITH humble heart and tongue,
My God, to thee I pray :

Qh! make me learn whilst I am young
How I may cleanse my way.

Now, in my early days,

Teach me thy will to know:
O God, thy sanctifying grace
Betimes on me bestow.

Make an unguarded youth
The object of thy care:
Help me to choose the way of truth,
And fly frem every snare.

My heart, to folly prone,
Renew by Pow'r Divine;
Unite it to Thyself alone,

And make me wholly thine.
Oh! let the word of grace

My warmest thoughts employ:

Be this, through all my following day,

My treasure and my joy.

To what thy laws impart

Be my whole soul inclin'd:

Oh! let them dwell within iny heart,

And sanctify my mind.

May thy young servant learn

By these to cleanse his way;
And may I here the path discern
That leads to endless day.

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