BX 
 
 7731 
 J57 
 

 
 $> 
 
 % 
 
 
 O-, ** 
 
 •^:-:-.% 
 
 %.<$ 
 
 ^■%v 
 
 
 
 tp 
 
 •V 
 
 u </><^ 
 
 
 
 
 "%C* 
 
 ^°- 
 

 
 V 
 
 
 <? 
 
 
 ,# ^ 
 
 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 
 °'^ 
 
 O, * 
 
 * IV 
 
 ^ ■ 
 
 %& -" 
 
 
 G V v* **v V 
 
 
 
 v^r^:%:^^^.o>v^v 
 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 

 

 
 
EARLY 
 
 IMPRESSIONS: 
 
 OR, 
 
 EVIDENCES OF THE SECRET OPERATIONS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 DIVINE WITNESS 
 
 IN THE 
 
 MINDS OF CHILDREN. 
 
 COMPILED BY JANE JOHNSON. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 T. E. CHAPMAN— 74 NORTH FOURTH ST, 
 
 1844. 
 
7'y / 
 
 "7T- 
 
 CHAPMAN AND JONES, PRINTERS, 
 Office of the "Friends 9 VL/*eekly Intelligencer, 99 
 
 No. 3 South Fifth St. Philadelphia. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 L**r 
 
 ¥? 
 
 The following narratives show that even 
 very young children are so cared for by their 
 heavenly Parent, that he gives them his own 
 holy Spirit to guide them along safely 
 through their infantile years : — and if they 
 yield obedience to its dictates, it will lead them 
 away from all that is wrong, and teach them 
 to do that which is right. 
 
 A beloved Friend, (Job Scott,) sensible of 
 the excellency of this gift, in his Journal thus 
 writes : — 
 
 " Oh ! that children and all people would 
 be careful in their very early years, and as they 
 grow up and advance in life, to mind the re- 
 proofs of instruction in their own breasts. — 
 This something, though they know not what 
 it is, that checks them in secret for evil, both 
 before and after they yield to the temptation : 
 
IV 
 
 often warning them beforehand not to touch or 
 taste, partake of or commit iniquity ; and af- 
 terwards condemning them if they do so : and 
 inwardly inclining them to a life of religion 
 and virtue." 
 
 " This is the very thing, dear young people, 
 whereby God worketh in you, to will and to do 
 what is right ; and by which he will, as you 
 cleave to it and work with it, enable you to 
 work out your soul's salvation. Despise it not ; 
 do no violence to its motions ; love it, cherish it; 
 reverence it: hearken to its pleadings with 
 you ; give up without delay to its requirings, 
 and obey its teachings. 
 
 " It is God's messenger for good to thy im- 
 mortal soul ; its voice is truly the voice of the 
 living God. Hear it, and it will lead thee; 
 obey it, and it will save thee from the power 
 of sin ; and will finally lead thee to the man- 
 sions of rest and peace in heaven." 
 
 Some of the incidents recorded in the follow- 
 ing pages, are very simple — They have been 
 
V 
 
 collected in the belief that they will be read by 
 some dear children, who, (like little Samuel, 
 spoken of in the scriptures,) have heard the 
 voice of the inward Teacher, but " wist not 
 who it was/ 5 
 
 Let these remember that all here spoken of, 
 who gave heed to the gentle intimations of 
 this good spirit, became obedient happy chil- 
 dren. 
 
AN ADDRESS 
 
 FROM A FATHER, TO THE READERS OF THIS 
 LITTLE VOLUME. 
 
 " Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
 Heaven" — This was the declaration of the 
 blessed Jesus ; and I am confirmed in the belief 
 that children feel the gentle touches of the 
 heavenly Father's love, much earlier than is 
 generally supposed. One instance I now re- 
 member, of a child but little more than three 
 years old, who, in a silent sitting in a Friend's 
 family, was so overcome with the influence of 
 Divine love, (which seemed to pervade all 
 minds present,) that she was melted into tears. 
 Having had a full opportunity of observing, 
 from a continued intimacy with this child until 
 she became a woman and a mother of precious 
 children, I may say, impressions from the same 
 Divine source have continued to attend her, 
 gently leading and guiding- her until the present 
 day; filling the mind with sweet peace, and 
 
the incomes of heavenly Goodness, as obe- 
 dience has been yielded to its monitions ; and 
 gently reproving when forgetful or disobedi- 
 ent. 
 
 What this secret something, this inward mo- 
 nitor is, little children seem often not to know, 
 though they feel it to reprove them for doing 
 wrong, and to speak peace when they do right. 
 It has many names : it is called the Grace of 
 God ; the Spirit of Truth ; the light of Christ, 
 or Christ within. It matters not what it is 
 called ; for, if we are obedient to its dictates, 
 it will fill the soul with love, whereby true 
 happiness is experienced. Oh ! that children 
 would early learn to yield to its teachings. 
 
 Read, precious children, the following narra- 
 tives of the early experience of others. Bring 
 the subject close home, ask yourselves this 
 question : — Have not I witnessed something 
 like this ; convicting me for doing wrong, re- 
 proving me for telling a falsehood, for using 
 bad words, or for deceiving others ? and, on 
 the other hand, when I have done as I was 
 bidden, when I have been obedient to what I 
 knew to be right, have I not felt comfortable, 
 
peaceful and quiet ? Well, dear child, these 
 feelings are the operations of Heavenly love, 
 which, if yielded to, will lead thee and guide 
 thee into all truth. 
 
 EARLY REMEMBRANCES 
 
 OF ONE NOW IN THE DECLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 The object of preserving these accounts, is 
 to show forth the goodness of the Almighty 
 in his dealings with me in my youth. May 
 they be the means of encouragement to all oth- 
 ers, to give early attention and obedience to 
 the dictates of his holy Spirit in their own 
 minds. 
 
 The first of my remembrance was, I suppose, 
 when I had attained my third or fourth year. 
 In those days, first-day afternoon meetings were 
 held; which furnished opportunities for little 
 children and young people to attend. I, among 
 others, was taken by my concerned mother, 
 who placed me by her side, and taught me to 
 sit still. The novelty and solemnity of the 
 scene, might at first have attracted my atten- 
 
10 
 
 tion : but there was also a feeling of the influ- 
 ence of good, which arrested my childish 
 mind. I well remember the sensations and de- 
 sires of my heart, though I was then uncon- 
 scious whence they were derived. The love 
 of goodness, and the desire to become a good 
 man, were seriously impressed on my childish 
 understanding. 
 
 At that time there was a Friend who was 
 an eminent minister of the meeting to which I 
 belonged ; and I now think it probable, that 
 even little children were baptized into an inde- 
 scribable feeling of something good, under his 
 ministry : but the impressions above alluded to, 
 according to the best of my recollection, were 
 made and often renewed, in silent meetings. I 
 loved to go, and to sit by the side of my dear 
 mother, whose care and example, as well as 
 her prayers, I believe have been a great bles- 
 sing to me. 
 
 I take it to be about the fifth year of my 
 age, that an incident occurred which was the 
 occasion of bringing my mind to an acquain- 
 tance with the Divine law of mercy, gentleness, 
 and tender-heartedness. I found it to be a 
 law of prohibition against cruelty, wantonness 
 
11 
 
 and thoughtlessness ; for I was now old enough 
 to think : but not thinking that animals could 
 feel as well as children, the thought occurred 
 to try, while in the innocent exercise of throw- 
 ing sticks, chips, and stones, whether I could 
 hit a chicken that was not far from me. 
 
 After various efforts in this trial of strength, 
 I succeeded in hitting the innocent chicken 
 with a stone. It fell ; it stretched back its 
 head in agony, and appeared to be dying. Hor- 
 ror and sorrow seized my infant soul ; and un- 
 der a sense of the cruelty I had committed, I 
 retired into the house and shed many tears. 
 My sympathy vas keenly awakened toward 
 the suffering of an innocent little animal, and 
 my remorse was great, being myself the cause 
 of it. When inquired of concerning the occa- 
 sion of my weeping, I was afraid or ashamed 
 to tell the real reason. The evil of the act was 
 now clearly shown me. I saw that it was 
 wicked to hurt any thing wantonly. My heart 
 learned to feel tenderness towards every living 
 thing that could feel pain, and I saw that in all 
 my childish sports and plays, I must avoid cru- 
 elty. 
 
 This Divine law, thus early impressed on my 
 
12 
 
 mrodj has been of great use to me. In my 
 youthful days, it preserved me from many evils. 
 It kept me from joining in many sports that 
 naughty boys are apt to indulge in. Many a 
 bird's nest has been left unmolested, many an 
 innocent butterfly or other insect has been 
 spared, because of this tender feeling in my 
 heart. And yet the example of others older 
 than myself, often operated to prevent the free 
 and full exercise of this heaven-born principle 
 of mercy and tenderness. Certain birr's were 
 considered noxious and cruel, — certain insects 
 and reptiles were said to be poisonous and dan- 
 gerous ; and therefore they ought to be de- 
 stroyed. Among the feathered tribes, king- 
 birds and black-birds came under this descrip- 
 tion. Their nests and eggs were often sacri- 
 ficed, regardless of the laws of mercy, gentle- 
 ness, and compassion. Their mournful cries 
 were disregarded, when plunder deprived them 
 of their nests, their eggs and their young. 
 Many an insect or reptile was killed without 
 remorse ; because the example and opinions of 
 men, overbalanced for a time the gentle impres- 
 sions of tender-heartedness and mercy. 
 
 Another circumstance occurred in my early 
 
13 
 
 youth, that tended powerfully to check the 
 growth of evil, and to produce serious 
 thoughts of the manner of my life, and 
 of my actions and conduct. During a se- 
 vere storm, a vivid flash of lightning, with a 
 heavy peal of thunder, had such an effect on my 
 aunt who lived wdth us, that she fell to the 
 floor, and screamed with flight. The children 
 supposed she had been struck with the light- 
 ning and was killed. Awful alarm and terror 
 pervaded our minds, and it was with some diffi- 
 culty w T e could be pacified. Our dear father 
 at length calmed our fears, by referring to the 
 Almighty power that could preserve, — telling 
 us that all the men in the world could not hin- 
 der or control the lightning. 
 
 The thoughts of death, and a sudden change 
 from this world to a lasting home, were sub- 
 jects that deeply absorbed my youthful mind. 
 My aunt, though somewhat stunned, was not 
 hurt, and soon recovered ; being affected by 
 the sudden shock, and not by actual contact 
 with the lightning, which struck a tree, twen- 
 ty or thirty rods distant. The effect of this 
 was not soon lost or forgotten. I was induced, 
 through the visitations of Divine goodness, to 
 
14 
 
 take heed to my ways, and to endeavour so 
 to live as to be prepared to die, even if my 
 death should be by means of lightning. The 
 thoughts of death were often renewed during 
 the summer season, when lightning was seen 
 and thunder heard, even at a distance. But 
 when near, solemnity and deep searching of 
 heart were known. 
 
 Many an instructive season of solemn silence 
 has been passed during thunder-storms. Much 
 tenderness of spirit has been witnessed at such 
 times. Nor was my heavenly Protector want- 
 ing, to show the path of duty, and to point out 
 the errors and omissions of my life. I now 
 look back with thankfulness for his fatherly 
 chastisements, and the visitations of his love, 
 manifested in seasons when under the influ- 
 ence of fear from these operations of the ele- 
 ments. 
 
 At another season, my father was very ill 
 with the small pox, insomuch that his life was 
 despaired of for some time. During his extreme 
 illness, my mind was seriously impressed with 
 the idea of his being taken away from us by 
 death. I began to feel what trouble was. I 
 looked to the Lord in my distress, and cried 
 
15 
 
 unto the Holy One of Israel. He heard my 
 prayers, and sealed deep instruction on my 
 mind, through this season of affliction and trial. 
 I renewedly felt the need of guardian care, and 
 of greater watchfulness, as well as concern to 
 fill up my duty faithfully. They were days not 
 soon forgotten, but it was good for me to thus 
 be afflicted. My covenant with my heavenly 
 Parent in the day of my distress, was remem- 
 bered afterwards to my profit, and he was 
 mindful of me. 
 
 I had inclinations to vanity and folly ; I had 
 temptations to deviate from the discipline of 
 parental restraint ; yet merciful Goodness for- 
 sook me not in the slippery paths of youth. The 
 visitations of the preceding years had left a 
 deep impression on my youthful tender mind. 
 I had become acquainted with trouble, and the 
 consolations of looking to heaven for support, in 
 seasons of trial. Hence, when deep conviction 
 followed my deviating from the path of recti- 
 tude, I only found peace in returning as a peni- 
 tent to implore forgiveness of my heavenly 
 Father. Nor was he wanting in the manifesta- 
 tions of judgment and of mercies to my soul. 
 When I turned at his reproof, he healed my 
 
16 
 
 wounds, and gave me to feel of his mercy, for- 
 giveness, and the sweet incomes of his love. 
 
 I think it was during the fourteenth year of 
 my age that I felt a concern to attend meetings 
 held near the middle of the week; for, although 
 mother was a diligent attender of meetings, 
 twice a week, father generally omitted those 
 on fourth-days, — especially in the busy season 
 of the year. I was also kept at home to work 
 at such seasons. But as this desire increased 
 in me to go to mid-week meetings, I at length 
 asked liberty to attend; and he gave me permis- 
 sion. This request had to be repeated several 
 times afterwards before he understood that I 
 considered it a settled duty to be diligent in 
 going to such meetings. Although it was a 
 task to my diffident mind to ask permission, yet 
 I do not remember ever being refused. At 
 length it appeared to have this effect on fa- 
 ther's mind, — he went more frequently, and in a 
 while became a steady attender of those meet- 
 ings. 
 
 Though in the slippery paths of youth I was 
 shielded from many exposures to evil, I was 
 not exempt from the trials and conflicts of the 
 cross, in the submission of my own selfish will. 
 
17 
 
 I ventured sometimes in my father's absence to 
 get his gun, and exercise myself, first in shoot- 
 ing at a mark, and then sometimes in trying 
 to shoot birds. It was well that no serious 
 accident occurred ; but I was no less blame- 
 able on this account. I wanted to learn to 
 shoot with a gun ; but I ought to have consul- 
 ted an experienced father. In this unjustifia- 
 ble and secret way, I amused myself for some 
 time, in learning to load and fire a gun. This 
 increased my desire to have one of my own, as 
 my father's was a very heavy one. With the 
 money raised from my own industry, I contem- 
 plated the purchase of a gun,- that I might have 
 one of my own. 
 
 Whilst I was waiting for an increase of my 
 funds, I procured a cow's horn from a tan-yard, 
 and finished it off for a powder-horn, to which 
 ashot-bag was fixed of my own make. Noth- 
 ing now remained but the amount of money 
 equal to the price of a new gun ; unless indeed 
 we except a mental feeling: for the nearer I 
 approached the completion of my project, the 
 keener and clearer were my convictions,of the 
 cruelty of gunning, and shooting innocent an- 
 imals for amusement. 
 
18 
 
 During the time of privately using my fa- 
 ther's gun in his absence, after my task of 
 work which he had assigned me was fully ac- 
 complished, I sometimes spent an afternoon or 
 part of one in the woods, the fields and hedges, 
 to seek for game ; and at times, with powder 
 and shot, destroyed some innocent lives. But 
 when I took a view 7 of my conduct, and seri- 
 ously meditated on the time thus mis-spent, the 
 reflections became increasingly painful. I of- 
 ten thought how much better the time might 
 have been occupied among my books and other 
 employments. These convictions produced by 
 the illuminating influence of the Light of truth, 
 mercy and goodness, so operated upon my mind 
 that before the purchase of a gun was accom- 
 plished, I totally relinquished the idea, and ne- 
 ver purchased or owned one. 
 
 I rejoice in my deliverance from this tempta- 
 tion to violate the tender sensibilities of truth 
 and compassion. I feel the sacred obligation 
 of gratitude to the Father of mercy and kind- 
 ness, who redeemed me from this delusive 
 amusement, in the days wben the ardour of 
 youthful desires w r as strong. I ascribe it to 
 his grace and good Spirit, producing that seed 
 
19 
 
 of gentleness, early unfolded in my infant 
 heart, in a tender sympathy towards innocent 
 animals. 
 
 Another memorable era in the annals of my 
 life, occurred soon after I had completed my 
 sixteenth year. In my father's family, and 
 so far as my limited observation extended 
 among Friends and neighbours, the practice of 
 making a solemn pause on sitting clown at table 
 to partake of the bounties of Providence, was 
 unknown to me. In Dilworth's Spelling Book, 
 I had read the church forms of what is called 
 "Grace before and after meat." But I had 
 never witnessed the forrh nor the substance, as 
 a practice among Friends. This subject closely 
 arrested my attention one day as I was following 
 the plough, when the powerful overshadowings 
 of Divine love were renewedly extended to my 
 soul. Under this precious feeling, it was given 
 me to see the necessity and duty of making a 
 solemn silent pause at table ; in which the mind 
 might feel reverently thankful, before partaking 
 of the blessings of heaven in the provisions 
 made for these bodies. I saw that hitherto, I 
 had been too careless, and unthoughtful whence 
 these good things were derived. I saw the 
 
20 
 
 substance of " Grace before meat" — that in so- 
 lemn silence I should look up to the bountiful 
 Benefactor, and partake of his blessings with 
 thankfulness of heart. A like pause after eating 
 or drinking, I saw w T as the substance of 
 " Grace after meat," and a duty opened for my 
 future observance. 
 
 The place w^here I was when these views 
 were opened to me, and the joy and sweetness 
 that attended my mind, remained a long time 
 fresh in my memory, and confirmed me in a full 
 belief of its being a revelation of the Father to 
 my poor soul. Joy and gladness filled my heart 
 for the unspeakable favour, so that my cup 
 seemed to overflow : and a cheering hope re- 
 vived that I should, through obedience and 
 faithfulness, experience an increase in the 
 knowledge of his inspeaking word. 
 
 As noted before, the practice of silent wait- 
 ing at table not being observed by others, it be- 
 came a close trial to nie to make a silent pause, 
 and be singular from the rest of the family. — 
 But as I endeavoured to be obedient in fulfill- 
 ing this reasonable duty, my heavenly Father 
 was not wanting at such seasons to solemnize 
 my spirit, and influence my heart with grateful 
 
21 
 
 sensations. Sometimes a short sentence of 
 thankful acknowledgment livingly ran through 
 my mind, and was silently offered up to Him 
 who sees in secret, and who rewarded me with 
 peace in my dedication. 
 
 My silence and example on the subject of 
 this duty to the Almighty, appeared to have an 
 influence on the family ; for, in course of time, 
 it became a common practice to observe a si- 
 lent pause at table, before beginning to eat, not 
 only in my father's family, but generally in the 
 neighbourhood, among Friends. 
 
 As I obeyed these manifestations of Divine 
 Truth in my own mind, I found the aid of his 
 grace was sufficient, when in sincerity I sought 
 it, to enable me to fulfil these duties. Not 
 only was a solemn and grateful pause to be ob- 
 served at dinner-time, but I found the need of a 
 renewal of spiritual strength, by and through 
 the exercise of waiting upon my Heavenly Fa- 
 ther, till I conld find access to his throne in the 
 spirit of supplication; frequently finding it need- 
 ful to retire alone, and sit in silence, waiting for 
 his arising in my soul. 
 
 As I kept my eye to the Divine light thus 
 operating on my mind, and honestly endeavour- 
 
22 
 
 ed to follow its dictates, my heart was many 
 times filled with the consolations of His love. 
 I had many heavenly openings in Divine things, 
 in regard to my everlasting peace and well-be- 
 ing. For these evidences of his condescending 
 goodness, my spirit did and still does praise and 
 magnify the name of the Lord, my Saviour. — 
 My heart was often melted into contrition, and 
 my prayers were offered up in sincerity and hu- 
 mility for his holy aid, direction, and protection 
 in the way I should walk. 
 
 ISAAC MARTIN, 
 
 OF RAHWAY, NEW JERSEY, 
 
 Gives this account of himself, desiring that 
 every tender sensation in the infant mind, arising 
 from a conviction of the understanding by the 
 Power of Truth, may be cultivated : — 
 
 " When I was about eight years old, I felt 
 the reproofs of instruction, to the tendering of my 
 heart. 
 
 Being tempted to take a nut out of a barrel 
 at a neighbour's house, I was, (when reaching 
 
23 
 
 after it) secretly smitten with a conviction that 
 it was wrong ; so that I durst not take it. A 
 clearer manifestation of the Divine witness ope- 
 rating in my heart, I have no recollection of 
 since. 
 
 Having related the circumstance in the family, 
 my dear father, like a tender parent deeply con- 
 cerned for my present and future welfare, in- 
 formed me what it was, — even the Spirit of 
 Truth, that had thus met with and reproved 
 me ; and he directed me always to take heed 
 unto it. 
 
 I often used to read Friends 5 books, particu- 
 larly their dying sayings, from which I receiv- 
 ed much instruction ; being animated at times 
 with desires to follow the examples of those 
 worthies, especially of children near my own 
 age, whose lives w T ere pious and their end hap- 
 py. The good Remembrancer — the holy Spirit 
 was near, to excite me to examine myself, to 
 see whether I was not short of them in purity 
 and also to animate me to a watchful circum- 
 spect walking. 
 
 Thus the Great Shepherd extends the crook 
 of his love to his children in their infant years ; 
 
24 
 
 even when, like Samuel, they are not yet ac- 
 quainted with his voice." 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF PHEBE WOOD, 
 
 OF PLYMOUTH, 
 
 When a very little girl as given by herself, 
 showing that through the immediate operation 
 of the Divine spirit without outward teachings, 
 she was convinced of the great truth, that 
 " there is a God, who ruleth in the earth." 
 
 " When six years old, being alone in my bed, 
 a feeling came over me which made me sensi- 
 ble of the existence of a Great First Cause; — 
 a Power to whom I owed my being. So pow- 
 erful and clear was this conviction that ever 
 after I was careful not to offend by transgres- 
 sion ; and knowing I was dependant on Him 
 for all things, I felt it right to pray to Him. 
 
 In the time of the revolutionary war, it 
 was hard to get many things ; and among the 
 rest, needles were very scarce and we had very 
 few. One day my mother was going from 
 
25 
 
 home, and gave me a task in sewing, which I 
 was to do while she was away : but I soon lost 
 my needle in the grass, and as I could not find 
 it, I was in great trouble. In my great dis- 
 tress, my thoughts were turned to Him, whom 
 my heart acknowledged to have been the giver 
 of many good gifts ; and I went away by my- 
 self, and prayed very earnestly that I might 
 find my needle. Next morning, as I was walk- 
 ing about, the needle stuck in my toe, and I re- 
 ceived it as an answer to my petition. 
 
 My father was concerned for the good of his 
 children, and tried to bring us up in much sim- 
 plicity. This was not pleasant to me ; for I 
 wanted to appear as those did whom I visited. 
 But the same impression through which I 
 had been made to know there was a great 
 First-cause, and to fear to offend him, so oper- 
 ated upon my mind that I could not indulge in 
 any liberty which I thought would disoblige 
 my parent ; though I sometimes wished he was 
 more indulgent like some other men." 
 
26 
 
 SAMUEL KILPIN. 
 
 In the following simple account given of him- 
 self by Samuel Kilpin, little children may see 
 that the same feeling or impression, which 
 operated on the mind of Phebe Wood to her 
 comfort, because she did that which was right, 
 operated upon his mind to his discomfort, be- 
 cause he did that which was wrong. But when 
 he acknowledged his fault and asked forgive- 
 ness, it then spake peace to him. 
 
 Many little children can, no doubt, remem- 
 ber times when the same good Spirit thus ope- 
 rated upon their minds, causing trouble when 
 they had done wrong, even though no out- 
 ward eye had seen the act, nor outward ear 
 heard of it. But this Spirit searcheth all things, 
 and if followed will lead into all truth and 
 happiness. 
 
 Samuel Kilpin says of himself, " When seven 
 years old, I was left in charge of the shop : a 
 man passed by, crying, ' Little lambs, all white 
 and clean, at one penny each.' In my eager- 
 ness to get one, I lost all self-command ; and, 
 
27 
 
 taking a penny out of the drawer, I made the 
 purchase. My keen-eyed, wise mother, asked me 
 how I came by the money. I evaded the ques- 
 tion by something like a falsehood, for I kept 
 back the truth. The lamb was placed on the 
 chimney-shelf, and much admired ; but to me it 
 w r as a source of trouble. Continually there 
 sounded in my ear (from the spirit-voice,) 
 ' thou shalt not steal — thou shalt not lie/ 
 Guilt and darkness overcame me ; and in 
 agony I went to a hay-loft, (the place is now T 
 perfectly in my recollection,) and there prayed 
 and pleaded for mercy and pardon, with groan- 
 ings that could not be uttered. With joy I 
 left the loft, from a believing application of the 
 text (offered by the good spirit-voice,) ' thy 
 sins which are many, are forgiven thee/ I 
 then went to my mother, told her what I had 
 done, and sought her forgiveness." 
 
28 
 
 TO THE YOUNG READER. 
 
 In early life, finding that to be happy I must 
 be good, it was my practice, on going to bed, 
 to offer a petition to my Heavenly Father for 
 preservation from evil, and for forgiveness 
 when I had deviated from the right way. On 
 one occasion (under a secret sense that this 
 was one of my weaknesses,) the petition was, 
 that I might be kept from vanity. Almost im- 
 mediately upon uttering the desire, I was made 
 sensible of the inconsistency of which I had 
 been guilty ; having been a few minutes before 
 engaged in putting my hair in pins, that it 
 might curl prettily the next day : thus nurs- 
 ing the feeling which I had so soon after 
 prayed to be delivered from. 
 
 Through this secret intimation, the swift 
 Witness showed me that if I would be helped to 
 overcome this vanity, I must help myself, so far 
 as not to encourage its growth. I yielded to 
 the impressions then made ; and I believe nev- 
 er again put a pin in my hair. And as this 
 witness for Truth was further attended to, it 
 
29 
 
 led gradually out of other vanities, and showed 
 me too, that I was created in order that by 
 walking with this heavenly Guide, my whole 
 life might speak the praise of our great 
 Creator. 
 
 So far as this witness for Truth, this gen- 
 tle intimation which first showed me the incon- 
 sistency of my conduct, has been attended to, 
 just so far have I been enabled to come up to 
 the mark set before me. It has been, when 
 taken heed unto, a sufficient protector in every 
 season of temptation, in every time of danger. 
 
 Surely I can speak of the excellency of the 
 secret monitions of Heavenly Love ; for it is 
 thereby only, that I have obtained any know T - 
 ledge of gospel truths or promises. For, though 
 blessed with kind parents who watched over me 
 to guard me from evil, yet it was the inspeak- 
 ing Word, the secret touches of heavenly Love, 
 which gently and gradually led my desires aw T ay 
 from hurtful things, and inclined me to seek af- 
 ter that which was good. So simply convincing 
 were the operations of the Divine Spirit, that I 
 believe I never doubted the influence under 
 which I at times acted, being a heavenly one ; 
 and, yielding (in my young days) submissively 
 
30 
 
 and unreservedly thereto, I practically acknow- 
 ledged, " It is the Lord." 
 
 AN INCIDENT 
 
 RELATED BY JOHN FOULKE, A FRIEND LATELY 
 DECEASED, WHO LIVED AT RICHLAND, PENN- 
 SYLVANIA. 
 
 " When very young, I was one morning told 
 by my parents to stay from school to plant 
 some beans. Being anxious not to miss attend- 
 ing school as usual, I went to work ; but in- 
 stead of planting them, as my father directed 
 me, I put many in one place, and hurried to 
 school. But a feeling of condemnation made 
 me very uneasy ; and I thought too that when 
 the beans came 7 ip, my parent would see that 
 I had disobeyed him ; so I concluded to pull 
 up a part of them. But now my distress in- 
 creased, until I gave up to acknowledge my 
 fault and ask forgiveness ; which was readily 
 granted." 
 
31 
 
 FROM A MOTHER. 
 
 FOR THIS LITTLE VOLUME. 
 
 Little children should regard the goodness 
 of their heavenly Father, because of his guar- 
 dian care over them. He makes them sensible 
 of the evils to which they are exposed, and 
 gives them to feel peace and comfort for every 
 good action ; such as obedience to the desires 
 of their affectionate parents ; kindness to all 
 around them, — and tenderness to all living 
 creatures ; not wilfully hurting or tormenting 
 any thing ; for He who is great and mighty, 
 who made the world and all that is therein, 
 condescends to be with little girls and boys 
 who think on Him, and secretly ask his help to 
 keep them from harm. He ^sees and knows 
 every action of their lives, 
 
 I well remember, when a child, the secret 
 reproofs of my heavenly Father when I had 
 done wrong, and the peace of mind I felt when 
 I looked to him for preservation. When quite 
 young, though fond of levity, the pernicious 
 tendency resulting from indulging in reading 
 
32 
 
 the trifling publications of that day, was so 
 strongly impressed upon my mind, that I felt, if 
 I would have that peace I desired, I must entire- 
 ly give it up. 
 
 One day,when in company w T ith several older 
 than myself, while engaged in reading a work 
 of fiction which afforded no instruction, I was 
 forcibly struck with the manner in which we 
 were spending our time ; and, after some in- 
 ward conflicts, I left my young friends and sat 
 down alone ; here my mind enjoyed a solemn 
 covering. Then did I desire that that Power 
 which had thus far strengthened me, would 
 continue to be my guide : and whenever I have 
 yielded to its blessed influence and submitted 
 to its clear manifestations, even in the days of 
 my youth, it has always preserved me from 
 sorrow, and shielded me from harm. 
 
33 
 
 SECRET CONVICTIONS. 
 
 Feeling inclined to preserve some account 
 of the dealings of the Good Spirit toward me 
 in early life, I note a seemingly small circum- 
 stance, but in its consequences sufficient to 
 serve as a watch- word to me, from that day to 
 this ; inciting me to observe a care, not know- 
 ingly to do wrong. 
 
 When young, I was placed apprentice where 
 there were a number of other boys, to learn 
 the tanning and currying business. Each set of 
 boys had certain little privileges allowed them. 
 Those in the tan-yard were permitted to tan 
 certain small skins, and those in the currying 
 shop to curry them, each on their own account. 
 One of the boys belonging to the currying 
 shop, not satisfied with his privilege, undertook 
 to invade the business belonging to the boys in 
 the tan-yard, (of whom I was one) by introdu- 
 cing certain green skins to be tanned. Feeling 
 offended at the imposition, one day when there 
 was no one present, I took the skins, and 
 threw them all down the common-sewer. — 
 
 B* 
 
34 
 
 There was considerable inquiry made for them, 
 and suspicions aroused as to what had become 
 of them. Thinking, as no one saw me, that 
 all was safe, I denied having done any thing 
 with them. But when all seemed over and I 
 had time for reflection, I began to view my ac- 
 tion in its true light : and although at first I 
 tried to justify myself for throwing the skins 
 away, because the boy had no right to invade 
 my interest ; yet for denying the act I could 
 find no excuse. It was cowardly, mean, and 
 showed an absence of all honorable feeling. 
 
 As those convictions continued to dwell with 
 me, (for they seemed to have taken their abode 
 there day and night,) they caused me sorrow 
 and condemnation ; under which I saw clearly 
 that it would have been better to have suffered 
 my small interest to be encroached upon, than 
 to have taken that means to redress myself. I 
 therefore became desirous to be relieved from 
 those feelings of distress. No other way of- 
 fered to my view, but to make a full confession 
 and restitution ; but I feared the shame of do- 
 ing so. This caused me to carry my burden 
 for the space of twelve or fifteen months, be- 
 fore I could give up to make the sacrifice. — 
 
35 
 
 During this time I often felt humbled, and 
 would gladly have given in lieu of a confes- 
 sion, any thing I had in possession, or endured 
 some hard bodily service. 
 
 At length, finding nothing else could wash 
 away those feelings of condemnation which 
 constantly marred my peace, I resolved to 
 make the sacrifice ; and, at a suitable oportuni- 
 ty, I confessed to my fellow-apprentice that I 
 was the person who had thrown his skins 
 away. I also told him the trouble I had expe- 
 rienced for so doing, and offered to pay him 
 double value. He appeared much surprised at 
 the information, and was so much touched as 
 to be scarcely willing to take any compensa- 
 tion : but at last, for my satisfaction, he took 
 what we considered the value of them. 
 
 My mind was now relieved of the burden I 
 had so long borne ; and instead thereof, was 
 filled with joy and peace. In addition to 
 which, I found I rose in a moral point of view, 
 in the estimation of all my shop-mates, and of 
 this individual in particular. 
 
 As now, by this act, I seemed to have assu- 
 med a new character, and was differently esti- 
 mated by my fellow-apprentices, I felt the re- 
 
36 
 
 sponsibility of my situation, and the necessity 
 of being more circumspect in all my actions. 
 
 It was not long before I had my faith tried, 
 in having to bear my testimony against a prac- 
 tice then in vogue, of each boy giving "what 
 was called his freedom treat, at the expiration 
 of his apprenticeship. This treat generally 
 consisted of strong drink ; and was often the 
 occasion of much excess. Those treats that 
 occurred after I had resolved not to offend 
 against my peace, and before my own turn 
 came, I simply declined to partake of, and felt 
 myself excused from bearing much verbal tes- 
 timony against them. But when I looked for- 
 ward to the time that I should be expected to 
 give my parting treat, I felt much fear and 
 weakness ; for I knew, were I to give one, I 
 would bring my mind into similar feelings of 
 sorrow and trouble, to those which I experi- 
 enced for the bad deed before related ; and not 
 to give one, would, as I thought, displease all 
 my shop-mates. 
 
 These thoughts caused much exercise of 
 mind, with secret aspirations that I might be 
 strengthened to do what was right. 
 
 At length, the morning of the day of my free- 
 
37 
 
 dom came. Upon reflection, I concluded to 
 state my difficulties and scruples to one of the 
 journeymen who was the most active promoter 
 of such practices, and told him they must ex- 
 pect nothing of the kind from me. In return, in- 
 stead, of being treated with jeers and scoffs, as 
 I feared, he told me they did not expect it ; of 
 which T was glad. 
 
 Thus, what for months had appeared to my 
 view as a mountain, upon a near approach 
 dwindled to a mole-hill ; as many of our diffi- 
 culties would do, if we met them under the in- 
 fluence of a right spirit. 
 
 A Friend. 
 
 The preceding account carries with it encour- 
 agement to confess our faults, rather than hide 
 them, and also to yield a simple submission to 
 the leadings or intimations of the inward Mon- 
 itor. 
 
38 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF 
 JACOB HITTER, 
 
 A MINISTER AMONG FRIENDS, 
 
 In which are shown the horrors of war and it 
 proven to be at variance with the Christian 
 Spirit, which, if allowed to influence us, would 
 bring peace on earth and good will to all men. 
 
 " It has been on my mind many times, to 
 leave some account of the gracious dealings of 
 the Lord with me from my youth up ; and now, 
 in the seventy-first year of my age, the remem- 
 brance of the following particulars has been 
 brought very fresh before me. 
 
 My parents were Jacob and Elizabeth Ritter 
 who came from Germany. When they arrived 
 in America, they bound themselves as servants 
 to pay for their passage. My father served 
 three years and my mother four years. When 
 the period of their servitude was over, they 
 married ; and, taking each a small bundle on 
 their heads, it being all their worldly wealth, 
 they went out into the woods and made a set- 
 tlement in what is now called Springfield, 
 Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Here I was 
 born in the year 1757. My parents were 
 
39 
 
 honest and industrious ; and I, being their first 
 child, was brought up to bear hardships, and 
 soon became accustomed to the use of the grub- 
 bing hoe. 
 
 When we had stayed some time at this place, 
 my father bought a small tract of land not far 
 off, and removed his family to it. I remember, 
 when we reached it, we found that the dwel- 
 ling house had been burned down, and nothing 
 but the chimney was left standing. My fa- 
 ther went out to work by the day at his trade of 
 shoemaking, in order to earn a little money ; 
 and my mother taking me with her, began to 
 clear the land ; and I became expert in chop- 
 ping down trees. Many times, after I had 
 been thus employed, I would sit down on a 
 stump, and eat my dinner of cold pork and 
 bread, with a. relish which no luxury could 
 give. The little birds used to hop about me 
 without fear, and I amused myself with scat- 
 tering crumbs of bread for them, and was re- 
 paid for it by their innocent songs and sportive 
 
 When about thirteen years of age, he notices 
 a dream, or impressions received during the 
 night, the substance of which is as follows : 
 
40 
 
 " I used to love to throw myself down on 
 the grass before my father's door, after I had 
 finished my daily labor, and look at the sky ; 
 and when I observed the bright moon and 
 stars, or the changing of the clouds, I used to 
 think, surely there must be some Great Pow- 
 er that created and formed all these things. 
 For, though I had often felt the secret touches 
 of Divine Love, yet I wist not what it was. 
 
 After an evening thus spent, I got up off the 
 grass and went to bed. During the night fol- 
 lowing, I received a visitation of heavenly 
 Love, which covered my spirit with great qui- 
 etness ; and on my arising the next morning, 
 my mother took notice of it, and asked me the 
 cause. On my telling it, she so far acknow- 
 ledged it to be a heavenly visitation, as to 
 counsel me to be a good boy and fear God, 
 saying, c he has a work for thee to do.' 
 
 Time passed on ; and when I was about six- 
 teen years of age, I was drawn into solemn si- 
 lence, and stood alone in the woods, when a 
 sight and sense came over me of the horrors of 
 war, though I then did not know the mean- 
 ing of it. However, when I was about twenty, 
 there was a muster of the militia in our neigh- 
 
41 
 
 bourhood, and the clergyman of the Lutheran 
 church to which I belonged, preached up the 
 propriety and necessity of standing in defence 
 of our country. So I was persuaded, against 
 my better judgment, to join the army ; and 
 taking up my musket, I entered the American 
 service. 
 
 I saw much of a military life, both in the 
 camp and in the field, and encountered many 
 hardships. The company and battalion to 
 which I belonged, marched down to Brandy- 
 wine at Chads-ford, and joined the army under 
 the command of Washington and La Fayette. 
 We had orders to work day and night to erect 
 batteries, in order to arrest the progress of the 
 English army. After several days hard labor, 
 we became so drowsy that nearly all the men, 
 except the sentinels, fell asleep. Washington 
 stood in the camp, and called out to us with a 
 loud voice, " Boys get up ; but be silent — the 
 enemy is nearly upon us." About day-light the 
 alarm gun was fired by the British ; then all 6ur 
 army made ready for battle. General orders 
 were given for every company to maintain 
 their ranks, and each man to keep in his place. 
 An awful pause preceded the engagement, and 
 some of us stood in solemn silence. 
 
42 
 
 I then remembered what I had seen and felt 
 of the mercies of God, and was afresh con- 
 vinced that it was contrary to his will for a 
 christian to fight. I was sensible in my own 
 heart, that I had done wrong in taking up arms ; 
 and the terrors of the Lord fell upon me. I 
 then secretly supplicated the Almighty for pre- 
 servation ; — covenanting, that if He would be 
 pleased to deliver me from shedding the blood 
 of my fellow-creatures that day, I would never 
 fight again. Then heavenly love was shed 
 abroad in my heart, and all fear of man was 
 entirely taken away. And throughout the en- 
 gagement I remained perfectly calm ; though 
 the bomb-shells and shot fell around me like 
 hail, cutting down my comrades on every side, 
 and tearing off the limbs of the trees, like a 
 whirlwind. 
 
 It so happened that the standing troops were 
 called into action before the militia ; of which 
 the brigade to which I belonged, was partly 
 composed. Towards evening, our battalion 
 was ordered to march forward, and our artil- 
 lery advanced to the charge. Our way was 
 over the dead and the dying ; and I saw many 
 bodies crushed to pieces beneath the wagons, 
 
43 
 
 and we were bespattered with blood. But no 
 orders were given to use our small arms ; and 
 thus I was enabled to rejoice that I did not dis- 
 charge my musket once that day. Forever 
 magnified be the God of my life, that I was 
 mercifully delivered from spilling the blood of 
 any of my fellow-creatures. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 Given by Jacob Ritter, in his public testi- 
 mony at Richland meeting, a short time before 
 his death, of the time when he first attended 
 Friends' meeting. 
 
 "When I was a lad, nine or ten years old, I 
 used to play with our neighbour-boys, for 
 boys love to be together. One clay they want- 
 ed me to go to meeting with them — so I asked 
 my father if I might go. He said " For what 
 do you want to go to their meeting ? They 
 have no preacher there, and there is no use in 
 going where there is no preaching. " " But, 
 (said he) you may go ; it will do you no harm, 
 if you come home as soon as meeting is 
 
44 
 
 over." So I went barefooted five or six miles 
 through the wilderness. 
 
 When we got there, they were all in ; so I 
 sat down behind the door. They were very 
 quiet, and I took very particular notice of 
 them. There was no preaching ; but Oh ! the 
 good feeling that I had ! It told me that the 
 love of the heavenly Father was shed abroad 
 among all his children and people every where. 
 So when meeting was over, I went home un- 
 der these good feelings ; and my father asked 
 me if we had any preaching ? I said no ; but we 
 had good feelings ;— and asked him why we 
 had not such good feelings at our church ? — 
 " Oh !" said he, " we have a minister hired to 
 do the work for us." 
 
 I am now an old man. I have had these 
 good feelings to-day ; and it has been by living 
 under these good feelings, through the good- 
 ness and mercy of my heavenly Parent, that I 
 have been preserved all through my life." 
 
 By reading the preceding account, given by 
 a Friend in his eighty-fifth year, we see the 
 excellency of stillness, and understand the com- 
 mand, " Be still, and know that I am God." 
 
45 
 
 For it was when he had left his play, and had 
 sat down quietly in a silent meeting, that he 
 was first made sensible of an influence which 
 he could acknowledge to be the presence of 
 Deity, or the overshadowing of heavenly love. 
 "We may also conclude, from what he said to 
 his father, that even at that tender age he 
 knew this feeling of good to be superior to the 
 effect produced by the teachings of man. — 
 This feeling of good was the operation of the 
 good Spirit in him, during a time of outward 
 quiet. Now if those who read this account, 
 w T ill also be willing to be still and hearken,th.ey 
 too w r ill hear the voice of the inward Teach- 
 er ; showing them what they should do, and 
 what they should leave undone ; and if they 
 obey it, it will preserve them as it did this 
 aged Friend, by leading them out of all that is 
 wrong, — into the secret and sweet feelings of 
 heavenly love. 
 
 Jacob Rttter died on tH 15th of the 
 12th month, 1841, aged near eighty-five years. 
 
48 
 
 THE INDIAN'S ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 
 OF THE DIVINE PRINCIPLE. 
 
 The following short account shows that the 
 holy Spirit, in its inward workings, as a re- 
 prover for evil doing, was felt and acknowl- 
 edged, even by the unlettered child of the for- 
 est. It is another evidence, that the love of 
 our heavenly Father is universal in its opera- 
 tions. 
 
 A poor untutored Indian, on hearing 
 the operation of the indwelling Principle and 
 its preserving influence simply explained, im- 
 mediately recognised its effects in his own ex- 
 perience ; saying, that while tarrying a few 
 days in a settlement of white people, to sell 
 their baskets, &c, some fine pumpkins in a 
 neighbouring field attracted his attention ; and 
 the desire to possess some, was so strong that 
 he clambered over the fence for that purpose. 
 But on taking up a large one, he was so sensi- 
 bly convicted of the sinfulness of the act, as 
 to replace it at once. Yet, on second consid- 
 eration, he thought there could be no great 
 
47 
 
 harm in taking one from the abundance, and he 
 needing it so badly too. It was therefore lift- 
 ed again from the ground, with the intention of 
 carrying it away : but again the inward Witness 
 met the feelings of his mind, and he laid it 
 down, and retired with the sweet reward of 
 peace. 
 
 The following " Counsel to a young person' 5 
 was not written for this volume ; but it is in- 
 serted, because it is adapted to the pur- 
 pose of strengthening in the young, the desire 
 after an acquaintance with the good in them- 
 selves. The effect of the excellent advice 
 therein contained, may be observed in the nar- 
 rative appended thereto, containing some ac- 
 count of the individual to whom the counsel 
 was addressed, and whose spirit was, and re- 
 mains to be eminently clothed with "meekness 
 and humility." 
 
 COUNSEL TO A YOUNG PERSON. 
 
 It is of very great importance to us, in our 
 passing along through time, to make a right be- 
 ginning in our early years. If, in the season of 
 youth, we lay a good foundation, by wisely 
 
48 
 
 considering the value of our precious time, and 
 habituating ourselves to a course of self-deni- 
 al and humility, we shall be likely to pass along 
 through succeeding years, with much more tran- 
 quility, peace and comfort to ourselves, and 
 more usefulness and satisfaction to our fellow- 
 creatures, than if the days of our youth are 
 wasted in trifling, unprofitable amusements, 
 our passions and inclinations indulged, and our 
 minds unsubjected to the cross of Christ. 
 
 Now, as to every one there is given a sure 
 direction, an inward guide, or holy principle in 
 the mind, to distinguish between good and evil, 
 and to lead the attentive mind in the way to 
 eternal life and happiness ; how necessary it 
 is, that we endeavour early to become ac- 
 quainted with the voice of this internal Teach- 
 er, and to give up our whole hearts in obedi- 
 ence to its requirings! The Lord loves an 
 early sacrifice. Let this be deeply impressed 
 on thy mind ; and also remember the gracious 
 promise : " They that seek me early shall find 
 me." There is, indeed, abundant encourage- 
 ment to give up in obedience to that which is 
 made manifest in the heart. 
 
 May thy mind be daily engaged in seeking 
 
to know what is the holy, divine will concern- 
 ing thee. Love retirement and stillness ; love 
 sobriety, and to meditate in the law of the 
 Lord, written in thy heart. Accustom thyself 
 to contemplate on the wonderful condescension 
 and loving kindness of infinite wisdom and good- 
 ness toward the children of men. Let thy 
 spirit be clothed with meekness and humility ; 
 for " the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit 
 is, in the Divine sight, of great price." Strive 
 always to dwell in the holy " fear of the 
 Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom/' and 
 which " keeps the heart clean;' 5 so shall thy 
 days pass on in quietness and tranquillity; and 
 that peace of mind which none of the plea- 
 sures and vanities of this world can ever pos- 
 sibly afford, will be thy happy portion, both 
 here and hereafter. 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIRS OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 " In looking over my past life, I have been 
 led to praise my heavenly Father for his kind 
 care over me in keeping me out of many evils, 
 and following after me when I was disposed to 
 leave Him. Many are the instances which 
 occurred when I was young, which go to con- 
 vince me of His goodness towards little chil- 
 dren 
 
 When about six years old, loving levity and 
 mischief, and being at play with my brothers 
 and sisters, I was suddenly stopped with a 
 feeling of sadness which came over me. Find- 
 ing the tears starting in my eyes, through a 
 fear lest they should see me I left the nursery 
 and retired to a room where I could be alone. 
 I sat down, and poured out a simple prayer to 
 my heavenly Father, to know why I should 
 thus feel. For though now very young, I 
 knew at an earlier age to whom to apply 
 in all my trials and sorrows. In return for my 
 petition, I was clearly shown that I ought not 
 to be spending all the time given me for play, 
 
51 
 
 in mischief and childish folly ; particularly 
 in those things which I knew to be wrong: 
 such as telling stones in jest, and Other 
 naughty tricks. My sorrow was sincere; and 
 though I felt sad 5 yet the desire to be good 
 "was strongs and I resolved to try and do bet- 
 ter in future. 
 
 Often have I had to acknowledge that the 
 Good Spirit was near me, to teach me ; and 
 when I listened to it, it never led me astray. 
 
 On one occasion my mother sent me to pay 
 for a dress, and gave me a dollar note, charging 
 me to be careful of it. But, being a wild 
 thoughtless child, I ran heedlessly along, and 
 stopped by the way to speak with a little girL 
 We were soon engaged in talking and laughing, 
 and I forgot my mother's charge and lost my 
 money. I now knew not what to do. I was 
 afraid to return, because I knew I had done 
 wrong ; and what could I say ? The note was 
 gone, and I could not find it. At first, I thought 
 I would go home and say the dress was not 
 done, and that I had left the money with the 
 person who was to make it. But then were 
 felt the convictions of the Good Spirit ; and 
 so clearly w T as the error of such a course point- 
 
52 
 
 eel out, that I resolved to go home and tell the 
 truth. My mother knowing my careless dis- 
 position, turned away, much hurt with me, 
 bidding me go tell my father. This tried me 
 much ; for I was a very timid child, and knew 
 that I deserved correction. Under this trial, I 
 sought strength from my heavenly Protector, 
 that I might not shrink from my duty. When 
 in great distress, I remembered an account 
 which I had read in my^ spelling book, of a lit- 
 tle boy who in his father's absence had diso- 
 beyed him ; and on his return, went nobly for- 
 ward, confessed his fault, asked forgiveness and 
 obtained it. This gave me strength ; so when 
 my father came in, I told him my trouble and 
 the loss I had met w T ith through carelessness. 
 I was gently reproved and forgiven. My 
 heart was comforted, and great peace was felt 
 for telling the truth. 
 
 Thus, as I grew in years, this heavenly 
 Teacher continued near me ; at times encir- 
 cling me with the sweet influence of his love, 
 to the tendering of my spirit ; and causing me 
 to feel for the afflictions of others. 
 
 When about eight years old, I was taken by 
 a sister older than myself, to see a c negro bu- 
 
53 
 
 Tying/ as she called it, unknown to our parents* 
 It was something new T to me, as I had never 
 attended a funeral ; and I looked for- 
 ward to it, as something that would cause 
 some sport. But soon were my merry feelings 
 turned into sorrow, on beholding a mother 
 weeping over the last remains of an only child* 
 My heart was touched. I sobbed aloud with 
 the mourners. My sister, mortified with me, 
 (many of our school-mates being with us) soon 
 took me home, using every effort to quiet me ; 
 saying c it was only a little negro baby ; the 
 mother did not care about it.' But the sorrow 
 of the mother was so impressed on my mind, 
 that it was not soon to be forgotten. The 
 forepart of the night was passed without sleep. 
 I petitioned my heavenly Father to be with 
 the poor mother and to comfort her ; and I 
 asked of him that if I lived to grow up to be a 
 woman I might go and visit poor mothers 
 who had lost their babies, and try to console 
 them. The feeling which then clothed my 
 mind was precious, and remained to be cher- 
 ished towards those who were sick and fee- 
 ble. 
 
 Perhaps two years after this circumstance, 
 
54 
 
 a poor woman living in our neighbourhood, who 
 had lost her husband, had a young infant very 
 sick. When I heard of it, the same desire pre- 
 vailed which was felt in the case of the co- 
 loured woman. I asked my mother to let me 
 go and help nurse it, and she consented. I 
 went, and found the poor little one in a fit. 
 The mother being sick, gave it to me, and 
 I nursed it until it died in my lap. I sat some 
 time holding it, for I knew not how to tell the 
 mother, as she was already overwhelmed with 
 grief. — My sympathy was excited and my 
 heart tendered. I went to her bed-side, and 
 pointed to the cradle where I had laid it. The 
 mother soon read the truth, and her sorrow 
 was great. Another child lay ill on the bed 
 at the same time. The scene was impressive. 
 Oh ! how I wished to see the poor woman wil- 
 ling to let her babe go ! I thought, if she 
 would only be still and quiet, surely her hea- 
 venly Father would comfort her, and I wanted 
 to tell her so ; but then I was only a child. 
 So T left her comfortless and ran home for my 
 mother, who came to her assistance. 
 
 These simple circumstances in my childhood 
 show that Divine Love operates upon, and in- 
 
55 
 
 fluences the youthful mind. If it be yielded to, 
 it will prove a preservative through life. But 
 on the other hand, should there be a disposi- 
 tion to turn from it, how rough is our path- 
 way made ! I know this to be so ; having re- 
 belled again and again. Yes; I turned away 
 from my inward Guide ; I chose my own way, 
 for a time, according to my own will. But 
 through all, my heavenly Father followed me, 
 reproving for every misstep. He also set be- 
 fore me that which was good ; he showed me 
 the beauty of holiness, and gave me to see, 
 that to walk in the paths thereof was peace 
 and joy; but that if an evil course was persist- 
 ed in, all would be sorrow and pain. I suf- 
 fered much, before I again yielded to his bles- 
 sed government. Then was he ready to aid 
 me in overcoming evil; filling my heart with 
 love, and teaching me his divine attributes of 
 tenderness, sympathy and kindness toward 
 others/' 
 
 Philadelphia, 1843. 
 
 The circumstances mentioned in the prece- 
 ding account, show that so soon as the mind 
 began to unfold to the perception of good and 
 
56 
 
 evil presentations,, so soon was the Divine 
 Power felt to be round about* checking for 
 every wrong thing, and giving peace for every 
 right action. No doubt, when this child first 
 retired from her brothers and sisters to seek 
 some quiet place, to know why she felt such 
 heaviness of heart, her heavenly Guide was 
 near, permitting her to realize the excellency 
 of silently waiting upon him for instruction- 
 
 She found it was good, sometimes to retire 
 from apparently innocent amusements into the 
 quiet,, where she might more clearly discern 
 the spirit-voice ; even as little Samuel heard it, 
 though he knew not who it was that thus com- 
 muned with him. 
 
 How much happier would be the days of 
 childhood, if the young mind would but listen 
 to its Divine Instructor ! However small or 
 gentle his intimations may be, if taken heed to,, 
 surely they would preserve from the many 
 temptations which may be presented. 
 
 It was in seasons when the mind of this 
 child was drawn from all outward things, to 
 hold communion with her heavenly Father, 
 that she perceived the incomes of his love 2 and 
 
57 
 
 felt it tendering her spirit, and leading her to 
 feel with the afflicted. 
 
 Here again, we see displayed the goodness: 
 of Almighty power and mercy, in unfolding 
 his gifts of tenderness and sympathy. Even 
 young children may soon learn, under their 
 influence, how to weep w T ith those who 
 weep, and how r to rejoice with those who re- 
 joice. 
 
 JOB SCOTT'S 
 Recollections and Reflections on the operations 
 of the Divine Principle in his mind in 
 early life. Extracted from his Journal. 
 
 I was born, according to the best account I 
 could obtain, on the eighteenth day of the tenth 
 month, 1751 — in the tow T nship of North Prov- 
 idence, in the state of Rhode Island, in New 
 England. My parents' names were John and 
 Lydia Scott ; who were accounted honest peo- 
 ple, though my father made but little profes- 
 sion of religion. My mother was more zea- 
 lous, and attended Friends' meetings, when she 
 
58 
 
 conveniently could, taking me divers times 
 with her, and I think a few times another or 
 two of the children, though we were all 
 young ; for I, being the eldest, was but ten 
 years old when she died. I can well remem- 
 ber the serious impressions and contemplations 
 which, at that early period of life, attended 
 ray mind, as I sat in meeting with her, and on 
 my way home. I even had longing desires to 
 serve God, as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob did, 
 and others that I read or heard of. 
 
 My mother endeavoured much to restrain us 
 from being in the company of rude and vicious 
 children, and would sometimes call us together 
 and labor to have us sit in silence with her, 
 which we did. Knowing the enjoyments and 
 benefits of true inward, christian silence and 
 waiting upon God, she was desirous that w T e, 
 her children might, in our tender years, be 
 made acquainted with at least some secret 
 touches of that Divine favour, which, 1 doubt 
 not, she experienced in such seasons of re- 
 tirement — and though I understood but little 
 about it then, I have since had reason to be- 
 lieve, it was a real advantage to me. 
 
59 
 
 I am fully persuaded of the great usefulness 
 to children and others, resulting from frequent 
 silent waiting on the Lord. I have seen live- 
 ly and convincing evidences of it, even in chil- 
 dren very young in years ; and fully believe 
 the impressions of Divine Goodness have been 
 such to their minds at some such seasons, even 
 when there has not been a word uttered vocal- 
 ly, as have lastingly remained and powerfully 
 tended to beget the true fear and love of God 
 in their young and tender hearts. An early ac- 
 quaintance with, and relish of Divine things, is 
 best learned, and most livingly and experimen- 
 tally sealed upon the soul, in a state of silent 
 introversion of mind. 
 
 I know some men argue, that all we know 
 about good or evil is by education, tuition, or 
 what we imbibe or receive from others ; but 
 my own experience, and I doubt not the expe- 
 rience of thousands, can testify against the fal- 
 lacy of this argument. 
 
 Thus, in very early life, I was made feeling- 
 ly sensible that certain thoughts and wishes in 
 my own mind, which no mortal else ever knew 
 any thing about, and concerning which I never 
 had any human caution, counsel, or instruction 
 
60 
 
 whatever, were of corrupt and evil tendency* 
 And I have a full belief, that in every quarter 
 of the globe, children at an early age have 
 good and evil set before them, by the shinings 
 of the light of Christ in their hearts, with 
 clearness and evidence sufficient to show them 
 their duty, if they honestly attend to it. 
 
 Almost as early as I can recollect any thing, 
 I can well remember the Lord's secret work- 
 ings in my heart, by his grace or holy Spirit ; 
 very sensibly bringing me under condemnation 
 for my evil thoughts and actions, rudeness and 
 bad words, (though not frequent in the use 
 of them,) disobedience to parents, inwardly 
 washing in moments of anger, some evil to such 
 as offended me ; and such like childish and 
 corrupt dispositions and practices which, over 
 and beyond all outward instructions, I was 
 made sensible were evil. I am satisfied, if the 
 teachings of men were never to thwart the 
 teachings of the holy Spirit, many things 
 would fix on the minds of children to be evils, 
 which they are instructed and persuaded to 
 think are innocent and commendable. 
 
 In regard to my own early acquaintance 
 with the holy Spirit's operation, though I then 
 
61 
 
 knew not what it was, I have now no more 
 doubt about it, than I have about the existence 
 and omnipresence of God, It is sealed upon 
 my heart with much clearness and certainty, 
 that it is the Spirit of the living God, and that 
 it visits, woos, invites and strives with all. — 
 Yea, so quick and powerful, so discerning of 
 the thoughts and intents of the heart, so just 
 and distinguishing in approving or condemn- 
 ing them, according as they are good or bad, 
 is this Spirit, Word and Witness in man, that 
 not only without the aid of human injunction 
 or information, but in direct dissent from and 
 disapprobation of the sentiments, advice, and 
 pressing invitations of my play-mates, and 
 those much older than myself, who confidently 
 declared to me that such and such things were 
 innocent, and that nobody thought them wick- 
 ed but myself, — the testimony of truth would 
 and did arise and live in my heart when very 
 young, through the shining of Divine light or 
 the influence of the holy Spirit, showing me 
 that those things were evil, were wicked : and 
 I thought, notwithstanding all those young 
 persons could say to the contrary, all good 
 people would think as I did. 
 
62 
 
 At about six or seven years of age, the in- 
 ward principle, which is the light and power 
 of God, lovingly operative upon the soul, so 
 wrought and shone, and moved within me, as 
 to give me a sure and certain sense of right 
 and wrong, good and evil, in divers particulars* 
 and in some things altogether independent of 
 human information. 
 
 Before I was ten years old, the workings of 
 Truth grew so powerful in my mind at times* 
 that I took up several resolutions to amend my 
 ways; though I was not one of the most vi- 
 cious of my years, yet enough so to be made 
 sensible of the Lord's controversy with me, on 
 account of the evil of my ways. 
 
 My mind became exceedingly disquieted, 
 when I went contrary to Divine manifestation. 
 If I had steadily obeyed the Truth, as inward- 
 ly manifested ; if I had attended singly and 
 faithfully to this Divine Monitor, my portion 
 would have been peace, my cup, a cup of con- 
 solation, and I might have rejoiced : whereas, 
 through inattention and disobedience, I have 
 had to mourn and weep ; for, as I grew to fif- 
 teen years and upwards, in violation o clear in- 
 ward convictions, in opposition to the dictates of 
 
63 
 
 the Holy Spirit, I indulged in many wrong 
 things; 
 
 Oh! that children would be careful in their 
 very early years, to mind the reproofs of in- 
 struction in their own breasts. They are 
 known to be " the way of life." 
 
 A TREE 
 a child's place of worship. 
 
 The subject of the following memoir lived in 
 the state of Delaware. Her parents were mem- 
 bers of the society of Friends, and were con- 
 cerned for the good of their children ; and as 
 they walked consistently with their profession, 
 the examples or influence by which she was 
 surrounded, w T as helpful to the growth of the 
 good seed in her infant mind. 
 
 Very early in life (being only five years old) 
 her attention was arrested by the secret oper- 
 ations of the Divine Witness. This seemed to 
 have been brought about by her being deprived 
 by death of several near relatives. She said, 
 
64 
 
 in reference to this period, "Being much affect- 
 ed at losing a beloved grandmother, I one 
 morning took my little chair out to a tree that 
 stood behind the house, where no one could 
 see me; sitting down, I leaned my head against 
 the trunk and gave way freely to my feelings. 
 After a little while, I felt peaceful and quiet, 
 and then was I first made sensible of a secret 
 something, operating in me as a teacher. I 
 was often passionate, and easily excited to the 
 indulgence of angry feelings. As I thus sat 
 under the tree, sorrowing for the loss of my 
 aged relative, this fault was brought to my 
 view, and an impression was received that if I 
 did not strive against my trying disposition, 
 all my friends would be taken away from me, 
 and I would be left alone in the world. This 
 afflicted me greatly, and I promised I would 
 try and not get angry. Those living in the 
 family would often worry me, being the young- 
 er. On such occasions, and indeed many times 
 in the day, I would go out under my tree, to 
 meet with, I knew not what, but a something 
 that strengthened me to be good. It was to 
 my then infant mind, a hallowed spot, for there 
 I loved to be still — I was gathered into a quiet 
 
65 
 
 peaceful state, waiting for the teaching of the 
 good Spirit. Often was I here met with, and 
 received instruction and strength to overcome 
 my trying temper. So precious to me were 
 the feelings when sitting under this tree, that 
 w T hen I went from home, and had to mingle 
 with other children, I was afraid lest I should 
 be drawn out of this quiet state. This fear 
 led me to seek unto my heavenly Guide and 
 ask him to preserve me during the visit. 
 
 When about ten years old, a minister travel- 
 ling through our neighborhood, being at meet- 
 ing, used the language * covenant-making and 
 covenant-keeping God. 5 It came home to my 
 infant mind, and I found that this was the 
 Power that had been operating in me, and 
 with which I had been engaged in covenant 
 morning and evening, and many times in the 
 day, though I had found no expression that 
 would convey the meaning. 
 
 About this time, mingling much at school 
 with children who were not Friends, I wanted 
 to use compliments as they did, and concluded I 
 would do so. Going to the shoemaker's for 
 my mother's shoes, I asked if Mrs — ~-'s shoes 
 were done. On thus speaking,. I was so clear-* 
 
66 
 
 ly shown that this was a departure from sim* 
 plicity of language, that I never again deviated 
 in this respect, from what I believed right for 
 me. 
 
 About my twelfth year, when at meeting 
 sitting with the rest of the school children, I 
 was impressed with the necessity of calling the 
 attention of the scholars to the death of one of 
 our little playmates. 
 
 What I had to say, was as plain before me 
 as though it were written in a book, and at one 
 time I was almost impelled upon my feet, by 
 the force of the feeling which rested upon me. 
 But I thought that as I was a child, I never 
 could speak before all the meeting ; so I conclu- 
 ded as soon as meeting broke, I would write 
 down what was then so plain to me ; but when 
 I went to do so, all remembrance of the lan- 
 guage to be used was gone, and I could not recol- 
 lect one word. Then I saw clearly that it 
 ought to have been given to the children, when 
 it was given to me for them* 
 
 Thus the good Hand led me along through 
 the paths of childhood; and having now at- 
 tained the meridian of life, I can in looking 
 back bear this testimony, that had I at all 
 
67 
 
 times simply yielded to its guidance, I should 
 have escaped much of the suffering which I 
 have experienced. " 
 
 NARRATIVE. 
 
 The following may be interesting to the read- 
 ers of this volume, and be a means of inciting 
 them to give heed to the wishes of concerned 
 parents. 
 
 8th mo. 1843. 
 My Beloved Friend. — In thinking of the 
 work thou art about to publish, I have felt de- 
 sirous it may contain something to encourage 
 children to regard the tender scruples of pa- 
 rents ; whether they consider them the effects 
 of education, or derived from the higher source 
 of principle. If they exist, they should claim 
 due respect ; and I believe it would be attended 
 with a reward far greater than many imagine. 
 I feel that I can speak of this with confidence. 
 When quite young, my mother observed to 
 me one day while arranging my hair, that she 
 wished I was willing to do without those side- 
 
68 
 
 tombs. I made no reply* but concluded as 
 there were so few superfluities in which I in- 
 dulged, I might be allowed this. And more 
 especially as I was going to attend a wedding 
 in a short time, I thought I would like to ap- 
 pear more like my associates, than I should 
 with my hair straight ; and as she merely 
 wished I was willing to do without them, I 
 thought I woujd retain them till after that. 
 But duty whispered, "Is the pleasure derived 
 from this indulgence, equal to that of making 
 a mother's heart glad by a compliance with 
 her wish?" I thought it foolish that so trifling 
 a matter should occasion any conflict, as I had 
 not felt it wrong myself. But I could not for- 
 get it — so to get rid of my uncomfortable feel- 
 ings, in a few days I laid the combs aside. 
 
 I would if possible convey to thee an idea 
 of the sweet peace which accompanied this 
 very simple sacrifice of my own will, to the 
 views of an affectionate mother. On several 
 other similar occasions, I have been humbled 
 under a sense of the kindness and love of our 
 heavenly Father, in furnishing so clear an evi- 
 dence of his approbation for these little dedica- 
 tions to parental care and anxiety. I there- 
 
69 
 
 fore feel desirous to encourage all my dear 
 young friends to take heed and listen to the 
 gentle persuasions and restraints of concerned 
 parents, believing a blessing would attend it 
 through life, and that it would greatly facili- 
 tate their search after true happiness. 
 
 In all the reminiscences of childhood, there is 
 nothing affords me purer delight, than the sub- 
 mission to my parents' scruples in these small 
 matters. I sincerely hope thou may'st meet with 
 something calculated to arrest the attention and 
 enforce this, in my view, important duty. 
 
 Thy Friend. 
 
70 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OFTHE EARLY LIFE OF 
 
 ELISHA KIRK. 
 
 It appears by a brief memorandum in his 
 own hand-writing, that so early as the fifth 
 year of his age, his mind was susceptible of 
 "the reproofs of instruction. " On one occasion, 
 having been guilty of disobedience to his fa- 
 ther, he says, " Afterwards, walking out 
 alone, I was led into a state of deep thoughtful- 
 ness about my situation, attended with an anx- 
 ious desire that I might so live in future, as to 
 obtain a state of happiness, when time to me 
 should be no more ; being at that time convinc- 
 ed that I could not inherit such a state with- 
 out obedience to my parents, even though in 
 the cross to my own inclinations." 
 
 Soon after this event he was put to school, 
 where his conduct gave evidence that the in- 
 struction received under his former exercises, 
 was not easily forgotten ; for he tells us, that, 
 u having been thus early convinced of the ne- 
 cessity of obedience and order, I don't recol- 
 
71 
 
 lect that 1 ever misbehaved, so as to require a 
 stroke or frown from my teacher.' 9 While the 
 other children were engaged in plays, he would 
 often retire from their company, and walk 
 alone in some secluded situation. 
 
 We are not, however, to conclude, from these 
 early evidences of religious concern, that he 
 was not subject to the temptations incident to the 
 season of childhood. It is manifest from his 
 own account, that he delighted in social plea- 
 sures, and sometimes gratified his inclination at 
 the expense of his peace. On one occasion, 
 several lads, his relations, paid the family a vi- 
 sit on first-day ; but, his parents being from 
 home, they spent the afternoon in sport and 
 play, contrary to his sense of propriety at that 
 time. In the evening, being alone, his mind 
 was filled with remorse and sorrow T ; and, in 
 this distress, he resolved to be more careful in 
 future. He had also to contend with the pas- 
 sions of anger and resentment ; but, conscious 
 of his weakness, he was led to seek the Lord 
 for strength to overcome these passions ; and 
 he did not seek in vain — for he says : " In 
 time I witnessed an overcoming ; and as I con- 
 tinued fervent in spirit, I often experienced my 
 
72 
 
 peace to flow as a river of comfort, filling my 
 whole heart. 5 ' 
 
 When about his sixteenth year, he spent 
 much of his leisure time in the perusal of re- 
 ligious books. Speaking of this kind of read- 
 ing, he says, " It afforded me satisfaction and 
 instruction in the way I had been for some 
 time desirous to walk ; for I had not before 
 known that there w T as any religious society 
 on earth, who enjoyed the same inward 
 communion of spirit with God, that I had at 
 times partaken of." In this situation, his soul 
 was drawn diligently to seek for strength from 
 the only Fountain that can " soothe the life of 
 man," and qualify him to meet every viscisi- 
 tude w T ith fortitude and composure. 
 
 When we take a view of the state of this 
 estimable youth at this time, enjoying the pure 
 and exalted happiness of a life early devoted to 
 that which is good, and compare it with a 
 mind rebelling against the known will of its hea- 
 venly Parent, how striking is the contrast ! 
 
73 
 
 Extracted from the " Annual Monitor' ' for 1843. 
 OBITUARY NOTICE OF CHARLES PARRY, 
 
 AGED TEN YEARS, SON OF CHARLES AND SARAH 
 PARRY, OF ROCHDALE. 
 
 This dear child was early instructed in the 
 school of Christ; and by yielding obedience to 
 the manifestations of Divine Grace, was, we 
 doubt not, prepared for a mansion in Heaven ; 
 verifying in his experience the scripture pro- 
 mise, " They that seek me early shall find 
 me." 
 
 He evinced much tenderness of conscience ; 
 feeling sorrow for his sins, and desiring forgive- 
 ness when he had done any wrong thing, not 
 only of his earthly parents, but of his heaven- 
 ly Father also. 
 
 He was fond of reading the Bible and other 
 religious books ; and often made very perti- 
 nent observations upon them. 
 
 During his illness he frequently requested his 
 mother to pray for him ; and, on one occasion, 
 when he was reminded that he must endeavour 
 
 D 
 
74 
 
 to pray for himself, he replied, " Yes ; I do 
 pray for myself every night, and many times 
 in the night." Throughout his sufferings, he 
 desired to be preserved in patience ; and ex- 
 pressed his belief, that when released from the 
 pains of mortality, Heaven would be his home. 
 
 THE DIVINE WITNESS 
 
 AS A PRESERVER FROM EVIL. 
 
 In most of the memoirs in this book, and .in 
 many others which I have read, there are feiults 
 and errors mentioned, which conscience reprov- 
 ed. This conscience or Divine Witness in 
 man, will, if attended to, show what is evil and 
 what is good. If we receive it as our moni- 
 tor, we will feel its reproofs when we have 
 done wrong ; and when we are innocent and 
 sin not, our minds will be peaceful, which is the 
 reward for good. This peaceful feeling was 
 generally my attendant in early life. I heard 
 
the voice of instruction ; and as I was taught^ 
 I tried to obev. When I was reproved, I tried 
 to do better ; and I was so happy in being a 
 good, kind, dutiful child, that I look back 
 upon that period of my life and call it my 
 " blessed childhood." 
 
 The remembrance of the tender care of my 
 parents, the love of my brothers and play-fel- 
 lows, the kind regard of my school teachers, 
 all assure me now, that I was then a good 
 child. 
 
 Yet, dear children who read this, do not 
 think that I never did wrong ; for I loved to 
 have my own w T ay, and "would get angry if I 
 could not. I would cry and stamp w^ith my feet ; 
 but I was told I must not be cross, but be gen- 
 tle and obedient ; and as I loved those who 
 were older, and who I thought knew better 
 what was right and wrong than I did, I tried 
 to do as I w r as bid ; and whenever I overcame 
 my temper, I w r as made happy; and in time be- 
 came more gentle and bidable. 
 
 I was also very venturesome ; going into 
 dangerous places, from off which, had I fallen, 
 I might have been killed, or lamed for life, I 
 knew this w r as not right, after it had been for- 
 
76 
 
 bidden ; but I thought if my mother did not 
 know it, there was no harm done. This was 
 very wrong, and my dear mother punished me 
 severely for my disobedience. But when I 
 promised her I would do so no more, I remem- 
 ber feeling a great love for her, and thinking 
 it was right that she should make me obey her, 
 though I did not see any harm in thus ventur- 
 ing. But when I grew older I understood it 
 better. 
 
 About the seventh year of my age, an extreme 
 illness which my father suffered, was an occasion 
 of deep instruction to me. There appeared to 
 those nursing him but little prospect of his recov- 
 ery. One night, as my brothers and I were 
 going to bed, we were called by our mother 
 into his sick room, and taken to his bed-side to 
 look at him. He did not see us, being too ill 
 to notice any thing. Though I scarcely knew 
 what death was, I felt a fear, (caused by see- 
 ing my mother weeping,) that he was about to 
 be taken away from us. I went to my room 
 and my bed ; and on lying down, an earnest 
 petition was offered unto my heavenly Father, 
 that He would not take my father away from 
 my mother, and from us children. So earnest 
 
77 
 
 was the desire that, in the fulness of my heart, 
 T offered my life for my father's. While in this 
 state of troubled excitement, a light seemed to 
 break in upon my mind, and peace spread over 
 it ; and a still small voice, or the Divine Wit- 
 ness which has been mentioned before, bade me 
 be still and hearken. As I heeded this intima- 
 tion, I received the impression that the prayer 
 of my -childhood was heard ; — that my father 
 would not be taken from us ; and that in re- 
 turn for this favour, I was called to be obedi- 
 ent to the Divine law, as I would from time 
 to time feel it to operate in my own mind. 
 
 On going down stairs next morning, I was 
 told my father had changed during the night, 
 and was better. I remembered my prayer 
 and the attendant impressions. I did not speak 
 to any one of what had impressed me, but ful- 
 ly believed I was called to greater purity of 
 conduct and conversation than other children. 
 
 This feeling continued through the remain- 
 der of my childhood, and made me very careful 
 and guarded in my behaviour. I sought daily 
 to hear the Divine voice in my own mind, and 
 I listened to its teachings. In the morning, I 
 commended myself to its guidance. In the even- 
 
78 
 
 ing when I went to rest, I sought after it, and 
 loved to feel that I had it for a caretaker thro* 
 the night. Through this attention to my in- 
 ward Teacher, I believe I led a very innocent 
 life. It kept me from giving way to anger, 
 and from doing any thing in secret that I 
 thought my parents would not approve, could 
 they see me. 
 
 One day, when my dear mother was ma- 
 king me a new dress, she said something about 
 the trouble of making little girls' clothing, as 
 she was then doing, sewing ruffles on the 
 sleeves, &c. " Well," said her little daugh- 
 ter, " mother, why does thee take the trou- 
 ble ?" " Oh !" she answered, " from pride." 
 "Pride!" said the daughter. " Mother, does 
 thee not know, that pride goeth before destruc- 
 tion, and a lofty spirit before a fall ?" My mo- 
 ther stopped, picked off the ruffle she had al- 
 ready sewed on, and from that time had her 
 little girl dressed in greater simplicity. 
 
 During these days of my childhood, my heart 
 was full of innocent affection ; and as I daily 
 tried to please my heavenly and earthly parents, 
 it is no wonder that I was a happy child, and 
 that mine was a blessed childhood. 
 
79 
 
 A SHORT ACCOUNT 
 
 OF ABRAHAM LOWER, OF PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 " A good boy generally makes a good man. 55 
 This saying was exemplified in the life of Abra- 
 ham Lower, who became a member and an 
 approved minister of the society of Friends. — 
 He died in 1841, aged sixty-four years. 
 
 It would be well for children to understand 
 what goodness is. It consists in obedience, sub- 
 mission, attention to duties, speaking the truth, 
 kindness and love one to another, and highest of 
 all, love to the universal Parent. If then a 
 little child early learns to obey, to love and to 
 be kind to all, and to attend to its little duties, 
 we may reasonably indulge the belief that this 
 good boy or girl will be of the same character 
 when arrived at mature age. Some children 
 are, in very early life, taught to do that which 
 is right. They have kind parents or friends 
 who teach them to be good, and to walk in the 
 right way. But there are others, who are 
 poor, destitute and neglected, and who, if they 
 
80 
 
 could speak that which they sometimes feel, 
 would say, there is none to show us any good, 
 no, not one. 
 
 Such was the subject of this brief memoir. 
 He w r as a poor child, who had never known a 
 father's love nor a father's care. His mother's 
 occupations were such, that she could not give 
 him that attention he needed ; and at the ten- 
 der age of five or six years, he lived among 
 strangers as a little errand-boy. 
 
 In his eleventh year, he was apprenticed to 
 a cabinet-maker. " Here," said he to the 
 writer of this, " I met with many hard things." 
 His master was an intemperate man ; his mis- 
 tress very severe. He was harshly used, Dly 
 clothed, and not well fed. But he tried to do 
 right, — to do as he was bid ; yet often felt his 
 desolate condition. 
 
 One day, after having for some hours car- 
 ried water many squares for washing, he stay- 
 ed longer than his mistress thought proper. She 
 reproved him severely for so doing, and his 
 master ordered him out of the house, forbid* 
 ding his return. " I wandered about," said 
 he, " all day ; part of the time playing with 
 other boys in the street, and when night came, 
 
81 
 
 I crept (without food) under a bench, in the 
 porch of my master's house, where I laid until 
 morning. I awoke early, and stood by the 
 post of the porch, looking toward the house. 
 I had no home, no place to go to. What was 
 I to do ? There was no one to care for me. — - 
 After having remained there for some time, en- 
 gaged in these sorrowful reflections, my mas- 
 ter opened the door. He looked at me, and 
 then said, 'Abe, get the basket and come with 
 me to market/ My heart beat with joy at 
 the command. Ah ! how quickly I went, and 
 how gladly did I obey." Such w T as his com- 
 ment, when a man, on this unfeeling and cruel 
 usage. 
 
 Poor child ! how great must have been the 
 feeling of destitution, and the sufferings of the 
 past day and night,, to have thus caused his lit- 
 tle heart to beat with joy at the prospect of be- 
 ing again admitted to such a home ! Let the 
 children who read this, compare their own sit- 
 uations with his, and number their blessings. 
 
 On the first-day of the week, his master 
 would occasionally send frm to meeting. — 
 Though he loved to go, he was ashamed to be 
 seen there in the day-time, because he was rag- 
 
82 
 
 gcd and not unfrequently without shoes, or 
 having on his master's old ones. He would 
 therefore wander into the country to escape 
 observation ; but when evening came, he w r ould 
 go quietly into the Market-street meeting-house, 
 where evening meetings were then held, and 
 sit down in some obscure corner, often under 
 the stairs. Here, amid all his poverty and 
 hardships, he was favoured with visitations of 
 Divine love, adapted to his lonely and destitute 
 situation, so that he could often say, " I am 
 comforted." Thus realizing the truth of the 
 scripture declaration, " When my father and 
 my mother forsake me, then the Lord will 
 take me up. 5 ' For it was none other than he, 
 the Eternal One, who, in these seasons of trial, 
 looked upon this lone desolate boy, and by the 
 secret influences of his own good Spirit, led 
 him to look unto him, to see what w T as good 
 and acceptable, and what was evil and to be 
 avoided. 
 
 O blessed Guide and Director ! O divine 
 Consoler ! how didst thou speak peace to his 
 soul ! How didst thou inwardly teach him of 
 thy law, and show him of thy love, until he 
 could take up the impressive language, " J am 
 
83 
 
 comforted /"—comforted by the inflowings of 
 Divine love and light, although as to the out- 
 ward, all was gloomy and trying — he being a 
 poor, friendless, oppressed child, with no one 
 to care for him. 
 
 In the year 1793, his master died of the 
 yellow fever, and he had to seek another 
 home. When about sixteen, he apprenticed 
 himself to another master. In his new home, 
 he knew for the first time what it w T as to re- 
 ceive kindnesses. He often said, "the change 
 was like going from a prison to a palace." — 
 The kind attentions and fatherly care bestow T ed 
 upon him by the worthy Friend to -whom he 
 had apprenticed himself, and the tenderness of 
 his excellent wife, afresh stimulated him to do 
 his duty faithfully. And as he continued 
 watchfully attentive to his heavenly Guide, 
 standing open to receive those visitations of 
 his love and light w 7 hich ministered to him in 
 his very low estate, when a child, and which 
 were mercifully renewed time after time, he 
 was so preserved that now, when his outward 
 comforts were abundantly increased, his hu- 
 mility and innocency were conspicuous in his 
 
84 
 
 daily walking, and he witnessed an increase in 
 heavenly treasures. 
 
 While yet an apprentice, he came forth as a 
 minister, bearing public testimony to the " ef- 
 ficacy of the holy principle of light and truth 
 placed in the heart of man," even that power 
 which, through its secret operations, had en- 
 abled him to overcome much evil, and which, 
 if obeyed, would redeem from all iniquity. 
 
 About this time, he felt a concern to go with 
 some Friends, who were about visiting an In- 
 dian settlement. Such was his stability, that 
 although young in years, he was allowed to 
 do so, and was furnished with a testimony of 
 the approval of Friends in this undertaking. 
 
 This testimony spoke of him as " a young 
 man who, by his solid religious deportment, 
 would hold up a good example. 5 ' He spent 
 some time with Friends there, and used his 
 knowledge of cabinet-making for their advan- 
 tage and comfort, by making tables, bedsteads, 
 &c. for their use. 
 
 A Friend who was one of Abraham's youth- 
 ful companions, relates a circumstance which 
 shows his watchful frame of mind, and atten- 
 tion to the intimations of the inward Monitor. 
 
85 
 
 He thus speaks of it : "Abraham preached his 
 first sermon at school. During intermission, 
 some of the boys were planning an amusement, 
 which being counter to the wishes or judgment 
 of their friends, was to be enjoyed clandestine- 
 ly. Abraham was observed to keep very still 
 for awhile, then said with seriousness, "When 
 sinners entice thee, consent thou not." The 
 Friend does not say, what effect this monition] 
 had on the boys w T ho were about to enter upon 
 forbidden ground, but doubtless the effect on 
 his own mind, of thus yielding to an impression 
 of good, was preserving. 
 
 In this short account of Abraham Lower, a 
 strong proof is furnished of the universality of 
 Divine Grace, early manifested to children. 
 
 Abraham was an orphan, a neglected out- 
 cast, whose outward opportunity of learning 
 any good was chiefly in the streets, yet his 
 heavenly Father was mindful of him. 
 
 The Divine principle of light and love was 
 placed in his heart, and it inclined him to good- 
 ness. As he attended to it, it taught him to 
 be a good boy, even though he had a bad mas- 
 
86 
 
 ter and mistress, who were cruel and unkind 
 to him. 
 
 See him in Market street evening meeting, 
 ragged, barefoot, seated behind the door, no 
 friend or caretaker, yet thinking of his heaven- 
 ly Parent, and secretly praying nnto him. See 
 his little heart comforted with the feeling of 
 something good, and his mind peaceful in the 
 consciousness of trying to be a good boy. 
 
 As he patiently and faithfully endured the 
 hardships of his first apprenticeship, the way 
 was opened for his release ; and in his second 
 master and mistress he found w r hat he had not 
 before known, the cordial of human kindness 
 and parental care. Surely the Lord made way 
 for him in the hearts and affections of his 
 friends, and he experienced the truth of the 
 saying, that " to be good is to be happy." 
 
 Let others do so likewise, and Heaven will 
 be their friend and their sure reward — their 
 lives will be useful and their end peace. 
 
87 
 
 NARRATIVE. 
 
 ILLUSTRATING THE BENEFIT OF ATTENDING 
 TO RELIGIOUS SCRUPLES AND CONVICTIONS. 
 
 The impressions of good, received during 
 childhood, are frequent, and they often produce 
 very salutary influences, affecting our future 
 actions, as we advance to maturer years. It 
 is in the days of our innocency that our hea- 
 venly Father sows his good seed. Happy for 
 us if we neglect not these evidences of his ten- 
 der care and regard, but receive them as his 
 choicest gifts to be occupied to his glory. 
 
 I remember w T ell some of these early impres- 
 sions ; they are so strongly fixed upon my mind 
 that time cannot obliterate them. They were 
 lessons deeply instructive then, in my childhood 
 and my youth: and although they were intend- 
 ed and suited for that day, yet I value them 
 none the less now; for they are still doing their 
 appointed office of promoting watchfulness and 
 care. 
 
 The first intimation of my heavenly Fa- 
 ther's regard, occurred when perhaps not 
 
more than three years of age. The circum- 
 stance maybe considered trifling, but as it has 
 ever been held important by myself, I will re- 
 late it. I was playing in company with a bro- 
 ther older than myself, when a large grasshopper 
 attracted my attention. The insect appeared 
 extraordinary, and rather alarmed me. In or- 
 der partly to express my fears, and the wonder 
 with which its size had impressed my mind, I 
 added, in a call to my brother to come and view 
 it, a word which then was and now is, consid- 
 ered profane. This word I suppose I must 
 have heard used by other children ; but it ap- 
 pears that I knew it was wrong, or it was then 
 first made known to me to be so ; for I immedi- 
 ately felt convicted for using it, and w T as much 
 troubled in mind during the day. 
 
 Although my brother had noticed my expres- 
 sion, yet he said nothing to me about it. In 
 the evening when our beloved eldest sister was 
 putting us to bed, my brother informed her 
 that I had spoken a naughty word that day. — 
 My heart being full, I immediately burst into 
 a flood of tears, confessing my fault, with a 
 promise to be more careful in future. My sis- 
 ter, who then acted the part of a mother, (for 
 
our mother had been taken from us perhaps 
 a year before,) gently reproved me, and coun- 
 selled me sweetly in relation to my future con- 
 duct. This confession and burst of grief great- 
 ly soothed my mind, and I felt myself again at 
 peace, and could go quietly to sleep. 
 
 Small as this circumstance may seem, yet I 
 look upon the frequent remembrance of it, as 
 one of the safeguards of my childhood and my 
 youth. Living at that time in what might be 
 ailed the suburbs of the city, we were sur- 
 rounded by a population, not remarkably care- 
 ful in relation to the manners of their children, 
 who in general were rude and uncultivated, 
 and many of them addicted to the use of very 
 improper language. With some of these chil- 
 dren I was frequently in company ; yet the 
 lesson I had received w T as never forgotten ; and 
 the utterance of profane words by any of them 
 would cause a shudder of horror to run thro' 
 me. 
 
 During all my boyhood, the impression re- 
 mained unabated, and proved a great preserva- 
 tion ; causing me frequently to leave associa- 
 ting with lads who indulged in such gross im- 
 piety. 
 
90 
 
 And now, having passed the middle age of 
 life, and having mingled among many people 
 and in many scenes, the same horror covers my 
 mind on occasions of hearing profane lan- 
 guage ; the feeling appears unabated, and I 
 presume will continue. 
 
 The recurrence of these emotions often leads 
 me to admire the goodness of my heavenly Fa- 
 ther, in thus condescending to instruct me in 
 my almost infancy ; pointing out a path to 
 walk in through life, — a path of purity, of 
 safety, and of peace. Blessed be his name. — 
 He remembers the little children, He loves to 
 bless them, for of such is his kingdom. 
 
 He frequently comforted me in my early 
 youth ; teaching me often of his holy will, 
 and giving me to understand that that will 
 must be accomplished to insure my peace. I 
 well remember, on one occasion, when about 
 seven or eight years of age, as I was sitting 
 by myself, it was clearly opened to my under- 
 standing that my heavenly Father would at 
 some future time require of me great dedica- 
 tion of heart ; and that I would have to make 
 known of his great goodness and love to the 
 people, in the manner that I had heard many 
 
91 
 
 valued friends declare in our meetings, to which 
 my father was alw T ays careful to take me. 
 
 The idea of thus appearing, seemed more 
 than I could bear ; but the impression was at- 
 tended with a sense, that when it would be re- 
 quired of me to enter upon this work, my 
 strength would be amply sufficient. 
 
 This little and somewhat singular intimation 
 was often brought into remembrance during 
 the days of my youth, and led me very fre- 
 quently into much serious reflection. 
 
 I loved to attend our religious meetings as 
 a general thing ; although sometimes 1 would 
 absent myself, even without the knowledge of 
 my father ; but whenever I did so, the rebuke of 
 love followed me. About this time, an anec- 
 dote was related by Thomas Scattergood, in 
 the North meeting-house, Philadelphia, in 
 one of his communications, which was often a 
 subject for reflection, and I believe it tended to 
 instruction, and to fasten upon my mind the ne- 
 cessity of maintaining a watchful care, as to 
 the fulfilment of this duty. He remarked on 
 the occasion referred to, M that he knew a man 
 who had large experience in the way of Truth 
 and salvation, w-ho had learned many lessons 
 
92 
 
 in the school of Christ, and had, in good «*<>*- 
 sure, lived up to that in which he had been in- 
 structed. In his usual emphatic manner, he 
 closed this part of the view of his condition 
 by saying, he well knew what were " the re- 
 proofs of instruction, which are the way of 
 life." 
 
 '" Having known so much, (he went on to 
 say) this individual concluded in an hour of 
 temptation, that no further necessity existed for 
 him to attend meetings, — that he had all within 
 him that was requisite for his future guidance, 
 and which would necessarily lead on to peace. 
 But the result did not prove his anticipations ; 
 instead of advancing, he went retrograde, until 
 finally he fell, and became an enemy to the 
 cause which he once loved." 
 
 This anecdote, with the peculiar language 
 which I then did not understand, — that " the 
 reproofs of instruction are the way of life," 
 was a subject that frequently occupied my 
 thoughts. I had a strong desire to know what 
 these reproofs were ; — and it was made clear 
 to me, that the instruction of Truth always 
 ministered reproof for disobedience ; and when, 
 in an unguarded moment, we wandered from 
 
93 
 
 the true path, it called us back ; and in that 
 sense it became to us a " way of life." I 
 thought I could then see how this individual 
 had fallen. Attention to religious meetings 
 Avas an incumbent duty ; and therefore the first 
 act he did in absenting himself, was one of dis- 
 obedience. He was going counter to the very 
 " reproofs" which he had professed to value 
 so much ; and every step he now took led him 
 out farther from " the way of life." 
 
 The impression then made upon my mind by 
 the recital of this circumstance, was of much 
 use to me during my youth ; and in later life it 
 often tended to incite me to renewed diligence 
 and care, in the fulfilment of the important 
 duty of public social worship. 
 
 When about fourteen years of age, the 
 thought of being considered singular by my 
 companions, in wearing a plain dress, became 
 exceedingly unpleasant, and I requested my fa- 
 ther to permit me to change my coat, in con- 
 formity to the fashion of those not of our So- 
 ciety. We reasoned the subject together 
 on several occasions ; he always express- 
 ing his dissatisfaction at the course I pro- 
 posed : but finally my importunities prevail- 
 
94 
 
 ed, and I obtained his consent to act as I 
 thought best. The coat was made and worn ; 
 but always worn with dissatisfaction and loss 
 of comfort. The impression became sealed 
 upon my mind, that in this act I had dishonor- 
 ed my beloved parent ; and that my refusal to 
 appear in a simple garb,which he himself wore, 
 was a reflection upon his wisdom and course 
 of life in this respect ; and that I considered 
 the principles upon which he had based his own 
 actions m thus appearing before the world,were 
 fallacious and unworthy my regard . Such reflec- 
 tions were frequent and painful to me, as I did 
 not wish to appear in opposition to a beloved 
 parent. 
 
 The next coat I had made was in conformi- 
 ty with the dress of Friends. When I first 
 appeared in it before my father, I thought he 
 looked somewhat sternly upon me ; which I at- 
 tributed to his considering me as unsettled and 
 vacillating. Yet I felt great peace and com- 
 fort in thus returning and taking up the cross ; 
 and I believe it was a great satisfaction to my 
 dear parent. I have good reason, to believe, 
 indeed I may say, I positively know, that the 
 giving up to this intimation of duty, although 
 
95 
 
 opened in the manner it was, proved through 
 the course of my youth, a blessed preservation ; 
 deterring me from associating with vain and 
 unsuitable companions, and resorting to places 
 of recreation and amusement, from whence I 
 could scarcely have returned uncontaminated. 
 About my fifteenth year, being then an ap- 
 prentice, I had many serious thoughts in rela- 
 tion to my want of care in using the plain lan- 
 guage. In our workshop eight or ten young 
 men were generally employed, — apprentices 
 and journeymen, who were mostly Friends' 
 children. The habit had become so general 
 and fixed, that we seldom or never addressed 
 each other in the plain language of Friends. — 
 My mind becoming uneasy on the subject, I 
 reflected upon it very seriously ; and, discov- 
 ering from the force of the impression, that it 
 was a concernment of no trifling nature, I en- 
 deavoured to be found faithful to it, although 
 much in the cross. My altered course was 
 soon noticed, a though no remark was made 
 calculated to wound my feelings. In a short 
 time, however, much to my surprise and relief, 
 I found my companions addressing me as I did 
 them ; and, in a few months, no one in the 
 
96 
 
 workshop, either journeyman or apprentice, 
 thought of using any other language ; and this 
 continued during the remainder of my appren* 
 ticeship* 
 
 How true it is, that to the dedicated mind 
 hard things become easy, and bitter things 
 sweet. I was greatly instructed by this cir- 
 cumstance ; it having an effect to increase my 
 faith and dependance upon an Arm of power, 
 which I thought I could perceive was stretched 
 out for my help. 
 
97 
 
 SARAH GRUBB, 
 
 Was the daughter of Mason and Hannah 
 Lynes, and was born near London in 1773. — 
 She received her education at Islington-road 
 school, to whieh she was sent when about eight 
 years of age. Respecting her early religious 
 impressions she writes thus : — " At school I 
 sought the Lord ; feeling his power in my 
 heart, operating against evil. Yet I many 
 times gave v/ay to corrupt inclinations, and for 
 this I was brought under great condemnation, 
 even so early as when nine years old ; so that 
 I bemoaned my condition, and begged and pray- 
 ed for a better state and a happier. 
 
 I went on, sinning and repenting for years , 
 still my love for good books increased, and also 
 for good people. We had but few books ; the 
 bible and one or two journals of Friends, are 
 
 \ all that I can recollect reading : and really, I 
 valued them as highly as I was capable of do- 
 
 I ing, in this my childhood." 
 
 About the fourteenth year of her age, she 
 removed to reside with our late friend, Sarah 
 
 E 
 
Grubb,wife of Robert Grubb, at Anner Mills ; 
 and, being under the influence of the humbling 
 and tendering power of Truth, she was an in- 
 structive example in the family. 
 
 In the seventeenth year of her age, after 
 passing through much humiliating conflict and 
 baptism of spirit, she came forth in the minis- 
 try. In reference to this subject, she wrote as 
 follows : — " With respect to my first appear- 
 ances, as one called to speak in the high and 
 holy name of the Lord, they were in great 
 fear, and under the feeling that my natural incli- 
 nation would not lead me into such exposure ; 
 for I shrank from it exceedingly ; and often 
 have I hesitated, and felt such a reluctance to 
 it, that I have suffered the meeting to break 
 up without my having made the sacrifice : yea, 
 when the Word of life, in a few words, was 
 like a fire within me. Great has been my 
 mourning for these omissions of duty. Al- 
 though but seventeen when I first gave utter- 
 ance publicly to a sentence or two, I had 
 opened my mouth in private many months 
 previously, under the constraining influence of 
 the spirit of Truth, without a shadow of doubt 
 that it was indeed required of me, poor child 
 
99 
 
 as I was. I had sweet consolation in coming 
 into obedience ; and after a while was sur- 
 prised to find, that although I stood up in 
 meeting, expecting only to utter a little mat- 
 ter that presented, more passed through me, I 
 scarcely knew how." 
 
 Thus, by obedience to the gradual unfoldings 
 of the Divine will, was our dear friend made 
 an able minister of the gospel of life and salva- 
 tion ; being a faithful labourer in the Lord's 
 vineyard, and remarkably qualified for service 
 therein. 
 
 EXTRACT 
 
 FROM THE c MEMOIRS OF THOMAS SCATTERGOOD/ 
 
 " Thomas Scattergood, son of Joseph and 
 Rebecca Scattergood, was born in Burlington, 
 New Jersey, on the 23rd of first-month, 1748. 
 His parents were members of the religious So- 
 ciety of Friends. His father was indentured 
 to Thomas Chalkley, to learn the business of a 
 
100 
 
 mariner ; with whom he performed several voy- 
 ages. After coming of age, he appears to 
 have sailed from Burlington ; but he soon left 
 this occupation and studied law. This he con- 
 tinued to practice until his death, which occur- 
 red in 1754. 
 
 After this event, the care of Thomas' edu- 
 cation devolved upon his mother,who manifest- 
 ed an earnest solicitude for his best welfare. — > 
 By tender counsel and judicious management, 
 she endeavoured to shield him from the snares 
 and temptations incident to youth, and to lead 
 him in the paths of piety. His literary in- 
 struction would seem not to have exceeded the 
 common branches of an English education, of 
 which he acquired a competent knowledge. 
 
 Of his boyhood, little is known ; though 
 from some hints he has left respecting it, he 
 seems to have been favoured, as early as when 
 six years old, with seasons of serious thought- 
 fulness ; but, not giving heed to the secret re- 
 proofs of instruction, nor to the admonitions of 
 his concerned mother, he formed associations, 
 the tendency of which was to alienate him 
 from a serious and self-denying life. His turn 
 of mind rendered his company particularly ac- 
 
101 
 
 ceptable to his associates ; among whom he 
 was generally a leader in their youthful diver- 
 sions ; and, although it does not appear that 
 his conduct was marked by any flagrant depar- 
 ture from the path of rectitude, yet he became 
 much estranged from the yoke and cross of 
 Christ. 
 
 About the fourteenth year of his age, he was 
 placed apprentice in the city of Philadelphia 
 with a Friend in mercantile business ; but the 
 occupation not suiting him, he remained in it but 
 a short time. He afterwards went to learn the 
 trade of a hatter ; and continued at it until he 
 was about nineteen years old ; when, his master 
 dying, he quit the employment, and learned to 
 be a tanner ; in which business he continued 
 during the remainder of his life. 
 
 The temptations to which he was exposed 
 in the city, led him still further from the 
 way of holiness ; but, amid all his deviations, 
 he appears to have been watched over and 
 cared for by that compassionate Being who is 
 a father to the fatherless, and whose gracious 
 visitations were at times powerfully extended, 
 in order to rescue him from the pit of pollution, 
 and make him a chosen vessel in his house. He 
 
102 
 
 was sometimes in the practice of spending first- 
 day afternoon with his companions, in sailing 
 on the Delaware — an amusement in which he 
 took great delight ; and on one occasion, when 
 employed in this manner, his mind became so 
 deeply impressed with the sinfulness of thus 
 spending the day, that he induced his compan- 
 ions to set him ashore before they reached the 
 place of their destination ; nor did he ever af- 
 terwards spend that day in a similar manner. 
 He was often heard to speak of this incident, 
 as a remarkable instance of the secret plead- 
 ings of the Divine Witness in the breasts of 
 even the young. 
 
 Another instance is related of him, showing 
 his tenderness of conscience and nice sense of 
 justice. When a school-boy at Eurlington, he 
 had occasionally taken some apples from an 
 orchard which lay on the side of the road lead- 
 ing to the school-house ; and when, in after- 
 life, he came to see the exceeding sinfulness 
 of sin, this circumstance became a burden to 
 his tender conscience. He therefore request- 
 ed a friend to ascertain who was the owner of 
 the orchard at the time he took the apples ; 
 remarking, that he should feel most easy to re- 
 
103 
 
 munerate him for the fruit he had taken with- 
 out permission. 
 
 It appears from the records of the monthly 
 meeting of which he was a member, that soon 
 after attaining to manhood, he was brought 
 into usefulness in the concerns of the church, 
 and employed in some important services for 
 the Society, 
 
 In the latter part of the " Memoirs of Tho- 
 mas Scattergood," is found the following re- 
 markable account, which shows that he became 
 a minister, and w r as made use of by Divine 
 Providence as an instrument to warn some 
 young persons, who (although he knew it 
 not) were about to engage in a frolic which 
 proved destructive of life to seven of them. 
 
 u At our last Quarterly meeting held at 
 Shrewsbury, our beloved friend Thomas Scat- 
 tergood, in the course of his public testimony, 
 in moving language warned the youth present 
 to beware of wanton behaviour, dancing, frol- 
 icking, &c. stating, that he had known several 
 instances of Divine displeasure being manifest- 
 ed to individuals who had attended such meet- 
 ings as these, and directly afterwards had 
 gone to horse races, or other sinful pastimes. — 
 
104 
 
 One instance he mentioned of a young man 
 who, on his way home from a favoured meet- 
 ing, falling in with a company of persons who 
 were collected for a horse-race, was urged 
 to ride one of the horses. He at first refus- 
 ed ; but being pressed by some of them, at 
 length yielded, and in the race was thrown from 
 the horse, which occasioned his death. He 
 said it appeared to be his business to wain the 
 youth present to beware of such conduct, lest 
 some of them might be made like examples. — 
 " I do not say," said he, " it will be the case ; 
 but I find it my place to proclaim a solemn 
 warning." 
 
 When meeting ended, twenty-seven persons, 
 chiefly young people, embarked on board a 
 boat bound for Sandy Hook. But before they 
 set off, it was observed that several of them 
 were discouraged and ready to give it up ; and 
 on their way it was remarked how dreadful it 
 would be, if any unfavourable accident should 
 happen, after having been at meeting, and 
 hearing the advice then given. This was on 
 third-day. On fourth-day they went to see a 
 monument erected over a person of distinction, 
 who with twelve others perished there not 
 
105 
 
 long before. On fifth-day they walked to the 
 light-house ; and on their return went on a 
 narrow reef of sand, which is bare at low wa- 
 ter, as also the way to it. On this they spent 
 some time. At length, observing the tide to 
 run fast, they were alarmed, and concluded to 
 return. But alas! the sea had hidden their 
 path, and covered all their way-marks ! How- 
 ever, they made the attempt ; and, as they 
 were pressing on, eleven of them suddenly 
 stepped into the deep, and were overwhelmed 
 as in a moment, and seven of them perished ! 
 The others, with the assistance of some of the 
 company who could swim, got to the shore, 
 though almost spent/' 
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 From the preceding account, the young read- 
 er may perceive that, through the secret oper- 
 ation or influence of the Divine Spirit, a sense 
 was given Thomas Scattergood, of tempta- 
 tions and dangers awaiting some of the young 
 people who were present ; and that he was led 
 to caution them from a motive of pure love, 
 in order that they might not be exposed to the 
 evil consequences ot improper diversions. 
 
 -E* 
 
106 
 
 When parents and rightly concerned friends 
 give counsel or admonition to children for their 
 good, it ought to be respected and attended to, 
 although such advice or caution may be oppos- 
 ed to the plans and specious pretences of amuse- 
 ments, that children and youth try to per- 
 suade themselves are innocent. For godly 
 parents and friends often know more of the 
 deceptions and dangers which attend youthful 
 inclinations to pastime and diversions, than the 
 ardour of inexperienced children allow them to 
 believe. 
 
 Happy might it have been for those young- 
 people, had they been willing to be restrained 
 by the solemn caution and warning given them 
 by Thomas Scattergood ! But they would not 
 be so admonished — they followed their own 
 vain inclinations, and how awful was the con- 
 sequence ! 
 
 It is most likely the plan of this party of 
 pleasure had been arranged before they went 
 to the Quarterly meeting, where T. S. was di- 
 vinely commissioned to give the advice and 
 solemn warning alluded to, and that some of 
 them felt it impressively. Had those who 
 " were discouraged and ready to give up" the 
 
107 
 
 excursion, been obedient to the advice thus 
 sealed on their minds, their firmness might 
 have been the means of deterring the others 
 from pursuing the project ; and thus the lives 
 of the " seven" who perished might have 
 been preserved, and all the grief of pa- 
 rents, brothers and sisters might have been 
 avoided. 
 
 May the harms of these young people be a 
 deeply impressive lesson of admonition to all 
 others who may read the affecting account, 
 
 GOOD IMPRESSIONS; 
 
 OR EVIDENCES OF THE HEAVENLY FATHER^ 
 LOVE. 
 
 When I w r as very young, (I do not know 
 what age,) my mother used to take me to meet- 
 ing, and set me down on the step by her — she 
 sat under the gallery. As I was sitting still, 
 looking at the countenances before me, the in- 
 
108 
 
 quiry arose, " What do we come to meeting 
 for ?" And frequently these queries were raised ; 
 Who is God ? What is a spirit ? And how 
 can He see and hear every thing ? These were 
 mental inquiries that were answered by the 
 Father of spirits, who opened my understand- 
 ing by his revelation to my infant mind. Some 
 of these seasons, with the places where they 
 occurred, are often instructively remembered. 
 I was often drawn into silence, and sought 
 retirement to indulge in the feeling of good ; 
 and being tendered, the tears would flow down 
 my cheeks when thus alone. These were pre- 
 cious seasons, wherein was known by my in- 
 fant mind the enjoyment of the heavenly Fa- 
 ther's presence. 
 
 After I came to the knowledge that it was 
 my Creator who made these impressions, I often 
 entered into covenant with him. This cove- 
 nant, made in the days of tenderness and inno- 
 cency, was afterwards broken, by indulging in 
 some youthful vanities that I knew were for- 
 bidden. Then, instead of peace and joy, I had 
 to feel sorrow and remorse. 
 
 But my heavenly Father did not forsake me. 
 He still followed after me, entreating me to 
 
109 
 
 give up to be guided by him who so early in 
 life had revealed himself unto me. Many trials 
 crossed my path, but still I clung to vanity, 
 until I was brought to a sick bed, and eternity 
 opened before me. Then I repented in ear- 
 nest, and turned unto the Father, and again en- 
 tered into covenant that if my life were spared, 
 I would be guided by his Spirit. 
 
 After I was restored to health, I again turn- 
 ed away from the reproofs of instruction, and 
 indulged in forbidden things for a time ; but in 
 mercy I was again met with as in a narrow 
 place, where I could not well pass by the hea- 
 venly visitation. This was a season of deep 
 contrition ; but I felt the banner over me to be 
 love unspeakable, and I again enjoyed the life- 
 giving presence of my God and Saviour. 
 
110 
 
 A FRIEND TO LITTLE CHILDREN 
 
 thus writes: 
 
 My mind has often been deeply impressed 
 with the manifestations of the love of my hea- 
 venly Father to me in early life ; and I give 
 the following relation of some circumstances 
 which occurred at that period. 
 
 I lived in a village called Wilmslow, in Che- 
 shire, England. The custom of the village was 
 to keep annual feasts, which were called wakes, 
 at which there were horse-races. The place 
 for running horses was about a mile and a half 
 long, as near as I can recollect. The inn-keep- 
 ers of the village had their entertainments 
 near the place, attended with the fiddle, re- 
 freshments, liquors, &c. I was at one of the 
 races when about eight or nine years old ; be- 
 ing under no restraint from parents, having no 
 mother living, and my father manifesting no 
 concern to keep me from such pastimes. 
 
 Thus, I had no uneasiness from the effects 
 of education. Yet in the midst of music and 
 all the other allurements, I was struck with 
 
ill 
 
 horror, when I saw the listing-serjeant with 
 listed boys. And although fond of the music 
 which the band played, and pleased with the 
 soldiers, yet every fascination that was held out 
 was not able to drown the tender throbbing of 
 my heart for these poor victims, who were 
 likely to become a prey to the devouring sword. 
 I tried to stifle my feelings, but all in vain ; 
 they felt like part of myself. 
 
 After considerable conflict with these feel- 
 ings, I resolved to go home, zm\ to leave this 
 scene of trial. Finding an inn-keeper's son 
 who was my innocent companion, I told him 
 how I felt, and that I must go home. He said 
 he would go with me ; so on we went to seek 
 peace of mind, which was so desirable to us 
 children. The boy who accompanied me, soon 
 died ; and I am now left to speak of the grace 
 and mercy of my heavenly Father, which pre- 
 served me in early life— not because I was so 
 taught, nor because restrained by tutors, but I 
 speak from an experimental knowledge of this 
 visitation of his love, although at the time I 
 knew not what it was that caused these im- 
 pressions, which secretly led me away from 
 evil. 
 
112 
 
 Another circumstance occurred when not 
 more than seven or eight years old. It was 
 in the case of a man having drank a quart of 
 brandy for a sum of money. The people gath- 
 ering around his house, attracted my attention. 
 I beheld the poor man whom I had known to 
 be very strong and healthy, now struggling for 
 the breath of natural life ! My feelings were 
 so clothed with pity for him, although I knew 
 he had brought it on himself by his own impru- 
 dence, that I wept much. He soon died, and 
 I heard of it. I went to bed, but could not 
 sleep. After struggling with my thoughts for 
 a long time, I at last broke out in a flood of 
 tears ; for it seemed as if I could not contain my 
 feelings any longer. My father hearing me cry, 
 asked me what ailed me. I then told him, I 
 could not sleep for the thoughts of Joseph Lee. 
 The impressions still live in my heart, as a feel- 
 ing that our Creator implants in us — of love one 
 towards another ; and it is certain that innocen- 
 cy and love cannot be separated, but are the 
 birth-right of Heaven. 
 
 I also recollect sitting by the fire-side with 
 my brother and two little sisters, feeling poor 
 and destitute in the things of this world, and 
 
113 
 
 my mind was covered with the mantle of Divine 
 love and peace ; w T hich comfortable feeling w T as 
 a source of true enjoyment, until I lost it by 
 transgression. 
 
 Jesus was much attached to the innocent, 
 teachable state of childhood. How impressive 
 upon the minds of parents should be his exhor- 
 tation : " Suffer little children to come unto me, 
 and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom 
 of heaven." Thus, parents manifesting this 
 living concern for their children, to bring them 
 unto the truth, — and the children yielding to 
 its monitions, they become blessings to each 
 other. 
 
 REMEMBRANCES OF EARLY LIFE. 
 
 I had the advantage of concerned parents, 
 who were assiduous in their endeavours to 
 guard my infant mind from every hurtful thing: 
 yet with all their care, I rcmember,when a very 
 little girl, how excessively fond I was of dress, 
 
114 
 
 and of often having clean clothes on ; teasing my 
 mother for them, when she thought them quite 
 unnecessary. My passion for dress did not 
 stop here. I soon began to wish for fine showy 
 things, from which I was altogether restrain- 
 ed ; our clothing being made in a plain man- 
 ner, which often caused me much mortification, 
 especially w T hen other little girls very hand- 
 somely dressed came to see us. 
 
 We were at this time, too young to compre- 
 hend why it was best, and often considered it 
 very hard. Then our dear mother, in order to 
 pacify us, would tell us she was willing to in- 
 dulge us in every thing she could, consistently 
 with the peace of her own mind; and she would 
 call our attention to some who were very good, 
 and encourage us to be obedient children that we 
 might grow up like them ; until by degrees we 
 would be reconciled for the time. 
 
 When about four years old, I had a dream : 
 it being the first one I had, distinct enough to 
 be remembered. I thought I was playing on a 
 large green plain by the side of a wood; on the 
 east side of which, came two roads running pa- 
 rallel up to the green plain where I was. One 
 of these roads was very broad, and full of gay, 
 
115 
 
 light, airy-looking people, riding very fast ; 
 the other was so narrow that I saw they had 
 to go one before another, but they were very 
 plain, sober-looking people. As I was looking 
 at them, there came up a person and told me 
 that that broad road leads to destruction, and 
 those I saw on it were going thither ; but 
 the narrow road leads to peace and happiness, 
 and those I saw on it were certain of attaining 
 it. This made me feel very sad ; for there 
 were so many more on the broad road, than 
 on the narrow one, and to me they looked so 
 much handsomer. This dream made such an 
 impression on my mind that I have never for-, 
 gotten it ; and it helped for a time to reconcile 
 me to my plain clothes. 
 
 Thus, at this early age, I was met with in a 
 manner suited to instruct my understanding : 
 and the remembrance of it had a restraining 
 effect on many occasions. Being the eldest of 
 several sisters, I soon began to observe the in- 
 fluence which my 0}%uons and ways had on 
 them ; which often caused me to desire to do 
 right. 
 
 1 well remember a time when I was about 
 nine, and my sister about seven years old, that 
 
116 
 
 mother was indisposed, and we were to go to 
 meeting by ourselves ; after which we were to 
 go to the dress-maker near the meeting-house, 
 to get a dress made for my sister. We talked 
 much about the fashion : and she was very de- 
 sirous to have it made in a way that I knew 
 would not please our mother, and seemed deter- 
 mined to give directions accordingly. I be- 
 came very uneasy, thinking the blame would 
 all fall on me. I plead with her (although it was 
 sorely against my inclination) to have it made 
 as would please mother; at which she wept, and 
 seemed very much tried. She thought we were 
 by ourselves, and would have it just as we 
 liked. I tried to comfort her, by telling her I 
 thought it was right to please mother rather 
 than ourselves ; and that we ought not to do 
 any thing that we knew would grieve her. — 
 We went, and had the dress made in the plain 
 manner we had been accustomed to wear. I 
 well remember how comfortable and pleasant I 
 felt afterwards, thinking I had been helpful to 
 my dear mother. 
 
 In those days I had frequent touches of Di- 
 vine love, humbling my spirit whenever I 
 would disobey or do any thing to cause my pa- 
 
117 
 
 rents displeasure and sometimes I would feel 
 that sweet, precious feeling withdrawn, when I 
 knew of nothing I had done to cause it to be so. 
 I remember once feeling so for several days to- 
 gether, and I became very uneasy ; so much so, 
 that I wept abundantly, thinking that I had 
 become so hard that I should never again enjoy 
 those sweet feelings. Then my whole mind 
 was drawn out in secret supplication to my 
 heavenly Father, for the inshining of his holy 
 presence ; which petition was very soon grant- 
 ed ; and I was shown that I must walk more 
 circumspectly ; that I must not talk and laugh 
 so much ; that I must watch my thoughts, and 
 not let them wander after forbidden things ; 
 and try to example my younger brothers and 
 sisters. I cannot describe the sweet heavenly 
 sensations that filled my mind; my mourning 
 was turned into joy, and I could mentally sing 
 of the Lord's goodness. 
 
118 
 
 From "Friends' Miscellany. " 
 
 MEMOIRS OF SAMUEL W. CLARK, 
 
 OF RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 This remarkable child was born of respecta- 
 ble parents, Ray Clark son of Ethan Clark, 
 and Celia, daughter of Christopher Green. In 
 early life he manifested a stability of mind, 
 very unusual for a child of two or three years 
 of age ; at which time he often accompanied 
 his grandfather when he attended meetings for 
 worship ; sitting remarkably quiet, and evinc- 
 ing a control over his own thoughts and pas- 
 sions, which is rarely possessed by those of 
 much riper age. To the most careful observer, 
 he" seldom manifested any perturbation or con- 
 fusion, when in the company of the middle 
 aged, and the aged ; but to the latter he was 
 peculiarly and familiarly attached ; and for the 
 last four years of his life, sought the company 
 and society of such, both social and religious 
 much more than those of his own age. 
 
 By the time he had attained the age of five 
 
119 
 
 years, he very earnestly attended religious 
 meetings on the first day of the week, when his 
 health would admit ; and living near two meet- 
 ing-houses, the weather seldom was such as to 
 prevent him attending, nor did he at this, or 
 any subsequent period of his life, stay at home 
 because none of his connections were going 
 to meeting. 
 
 He early manifested a decided preference for 
 the society of Friends, and although his mo- 
 ther, about that time, had united herself to the 
 congregational church, yet his predilection for 
 the society of Friends continued, and his mo- 
 ther and grand-father Clarke, with whom he 
 mostly lived, granting him perfect liberty, he 
 seldom attended any other meeting for public 
 worship. 
 
 After he had attained his seventh year, he 
 generally attended the meeting held in the mid- 
 dle of the week ; often when at school, obtain- 
 ing the consent of his teacher for that purpose. 
 Such was his attachment to the aged part of 
 the society, that he was scarcely known at any 
 time to leave the meeting-house, after the meet- 
 ing was ended, until the most aged (who were 
 usually the last) had left it ; and however 
 
118 
 
 From "Friends' Miscellany. " 
 MEMOIRS OF SAMUEL W. CLARK, 
 
 OF RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 This remarkable child was born of respecta- 
 ble parents, Ray Clark son of Ethan Clark, 
 and Celia, daughter of Christopher Green. In 
 early life he manifested a stability of mind, 
 very unusual for a child of two or three years 
 of age ; at which time he often accompanied 
 his grandfather when he attended meetings for 
 worship ; sitting remarkably quiet, and evinc- 
 ing a control over his own thoughts and pas- 
 sions, which is rarely possessed by those of 
 much riper age. To the most careful observer, 
 he" seldom manifested any perturbation or con- 
 fusion, when in the company of the middle 
 aged, and the aged ; but to the latter he was 
 peculiarly and familiarly attached ; and for the 
 last four years of his life, sought the company 
 and society of such, both social and religious 
 much more than those of his own age. 
 
 By the time he had attained the age of five 
 
119 
 
 years, he very earnestly attended religious 
 meetings on the first day of the week, when his 
 health would admit ; and living near two meet- 
 ing-houses, the weather seldom was such as to 
 prevent him attending, nor did he at this, or 
 any subsequent period of his life, stay at home 
 because none of his connections were going 
 to meeting. 
 
 He early manifested a decided preference for 
 the society of Friends, and although his mo- 
 ther, about that time, had united herself to the 
 congregational church, yet his predilection for 
 the society of Friends continued, and his mo- 
 ther and grand-father Clarke, with whom he 
 mostly lived, granting him perfect liberty, he 
 seldom attended any other meeting for public 
 worship. 
 
 After he had attained his seventh year, he 
 generally attended the meeting held in the mid- 
 dle of the week ; often when at school, obtain- 
 ing the consent of his teacher for that purpose. 
 Such was his attachment to the aged part of 
 the society, that he was scarcely known at any 
 time to leave the meeting-house, after the meet- 
 ing was ended, until the most aged (who were 
 usually the last) had left it ; and however 
 
120 
 
 long any of the meetings continued, whether 
 in silence or otherwise, he was not discovered 
 to manifest the least desire to hasten away. 
 
 For several years he was particularly at- 
 tentive to an aged friend, Paul Greene, who 
 was unable to walk without crutches ; and he 
 was careful at all times when present, in ren- 
 dering him such services as were in his pow- 
 er ; and he often visited at the house of the said 
 friend, in whose family he would spend several 
 days at a time with great pleasure. 
 
 About this time, he showed a particular de- 
 sire to attend those meetings, in which none but 
 members of the society are accustomed to sit. 
 The circumstances attending his first sitting 
 with Friends, during their transacting the af- 
 fairs of the church, were as follows : When 
 the first meeting closed, instead of going out 
 with others who were not members, he kept his 
 seat ; a friend seeing him, and thinking it prob- 
 able he did not observe it was time to depart, 
 went out, giving him a gentle push as he pass- 
 ed ; this he did not appear to observe. A se- 
 cond mentioned to him,that he believed the first 
 friend wished him to go with him. He then 
 followed him out ; and expressed a wish to sit 
 
121 
 
 through the last meeting, provided Friends were 
 willing, The Friend then proposed to him 
 to take a seat near the door; adding, that 
 if he sat quietly, he did not think Friends would 
 object to it. But this proposition did not seem 
 to coincide with his feelings ; he w T as unwilling 
 to go in again without the consent of the meet- 
 ing, The Friend then left him, and went in 
 and mentioned the circumstance, but in rather 
 a low voice, and there being other business 
 before the meeting, it w T as not observed by 
 many, and consequently not attended to. In the 
 mean time, Samuel was seen walking the yard 
 in a very thoughtful attitude, passing and re- 
 passing the door, (which stood wide open) and 
 frequently casting a wishful look into the house. 
 While walking in this manner, two boys were 
 seen coming towards him ; when he saw them, 
 he joined them and appeared to say some- 
 thing ; upon which they immediately turned 
 and went away ; soon after, another boy w T as 
 seen coming towards him, whom he met and 
 turned away in the same manner, resuming his 
 walk as before. By this time, a Friend who 
 had observed his movements, got up and men- 
 tioned his request to the meeting ; which being 
 
 F 
 
122 
 
 considered, it was agreed to admit him. He 
 was then invited in, took his former seat, and 
 sat through a long meeting, without the least 
 apparent impatience ; and from this time be- 
 came a diligent attender of meetings for dis- 
 cipline, as well as those for worship. 
 
 As early as at five years of age, he gave evi- 
 dence that his mind was not only impressed 
 with ideas of a future and different mode of 
 existence, but also of rewards and punishments, 
 as the result of the present life, whether virtu- 
 ous or evil; remarking of his grandmother 
 Clarke, who died some time before his birth, 
 that " if she was a good woman, she was now 
 happy ; but if not, miserable." At a subse- 
 qut nt period, being informed of the death of 
 one of his very aged neighbours, " well, grand- 
 papa/' said he, "he has had his day ; and if 
 he was a good man, he is better off now." 
 
 Being on a visit at the house of an uncle, 
 where lived an aged, pious black woman, he 
 expressed great concern at finding she could 
 not read the Bible, and seemed to feel it incum- 
 bent upon him to teach her to read, in order 
 that she might enjoy that privilege. Finding 
 this, however, too difficult and lengthy a work, 
 
123 
 
 he attempted to enlighten her mind by conver- 
 sation, and reading to her in the Bible ; telling 
 her that she had already lived to a great age, 
 that consequently her time here must be very 
 short ; and urged the necessity of preparing 
 for a future state. Whether this made any im- 
 pression on the mind of the black woman or 
 not, it did on that of her mistress, who died a 
 short time after. 
 
 Some one speaking in his hearing of visiting 
 a sick man who was in the habit of using pro- 
 fane language, he said to his mother, "he hoped 
 God would give him ft repenting heart before 
 he died. 5 / 
 
 Without any one encouraging him, he adopted 
 the plain language, in which he was indulged. 
 
 About the year 1815, he was seized with an 
 epidemic, which after eight or nine days severe 
 distress, put an end to his probationary state. 
 Thus closed the short, but interesting life of 
 one in w 7 hose death more are left who feel the 
 privation of his society, than most, if not any 
 other, who had not longer lived to form the 
 bonds of social and religious union. Yet none 
 have just cause to mourn, or rationally desire 
 his return ; he having given many unquestion- 
 
126 
 
 poor black boy, a slave) sent me to chop wood 
 on a hill side, out of sight of any house, and 
 he told me to cut clown every tree on that hill 
 side. When I went home in the evenings, I 
 often heard them talking of the Indians killing 
 and scalping people; so I began to think, like 
 enough by and by they would kill me: and 
 again I would hear of their coming nearer and 
 nearer, and then I thought, sure enough they 
 will get so near as to hear the sound of my 
 axe and will kill me, a poor black boy here all 
 alone. A thought then came into my mind 
 whether I was fit to die, and it was showed me 
 that I was not. This troubled me very much 
 and I felt very anxious — very desirous that I 
 might be made fit to die. 
 
 So I stood still, in great amazement, and it 
 seemed as if a flaming sword passed through 
 me. When it passed over, and I recollected 
 myself, (for I had stood so for some time) it 
 was showed me how I should be made fit to 
 die. 
 
 Thus, I was brought to mind and follow 7 that 
 that has been the guide and rule of my life — 
 that within me that inclined me to good, and 
 showed and condemned evil. Now I consider- 
 
127 
 
 ed I had a new master — I had two masters ; 
 and it was showed me (in my mind) by ray 
 new master, that I must not cut down a certain 
 tree on the hill side. I knew the tree well 
 enough. I had not come to it yet. But I did 
 not know what I should do, for my old master 
 had told me to cut all the trees down on that 
 hill side. I thought a great deal about it, and 
 cut on and on. By and by I came to the tree ; 
 but I cut on by it and let it stand. — One day 
 my old master brought out his axe and cut the 
 tree down himself, and never said, " William, 
 why didn't thee cut that tree down ?" — never 
 said any thing to me about it* Then I thought, 
 surely my new master will make way for me, 
 and take care of me, if I love him and mind him, 
 and am attentive to this my guide and rule of 
 life." 
 
 After the respectable and goodly old man had 
 given this interesting account of the way in 
 which he was brought to follow the guide of 
 his life, the following question was put to him : 
 " Well, William, has thee from that time till 
 now been so careful and attentive to thy guide, 
 as never to say or do amiss ?" To which he re- 
 plied, " Oh no : I have missed it — I have several 
 
128 
 
 times missed it." He was then asked, " well 
 William, in that case how did thee get along?" 
 He answered " Oh ! when I missed it — w T hen I 
 found I had said or done wrong, I felt very 
 sorry, and I tried to be more careful for time to 
 come — never to do so any more, and I believe I 
 was forgiven." 
 
 William Boen's guide and rule of life and con- 
 duct, his " new master" as he called him, rais- 
 ed him from the state of a poor slave, to be a 
 free man in good esteem, through habits of tem- 
 perance, sobriety, honest industry and integrity, 
 whereby he was enabled to become the respect- 
 able head of a family, and to acquire property 
 sufficient for their comfortable accommodation. 
 This " new master" who forsook him not 
 when he became old and gray-headed, was the 
 same Light that appears unto all ; and it would 
 guide every one in the right way as it did him, 
 if they would take it for their master and obey 
 it as he did. It was the guide of his youth — 
 became his Lord and master — preserved him 
 from evil — and conducted him safely through 
 the trials of life, to a good old age — and sup* 
 ported him through the closing hour, 
 
129 
 
 TO THE YOUNG READERS. 
 
 You have, set before you on the pages of this 
 little book, many testimonies respecting the 
 intimations of Divine love, communicated to the 
 mind in very early life. 
 
 I too could recount various instances of our 
 heavenly Father's watchful care over me in 
 my juvenile days, in admonishing me when 
 tempted to do w T rong, and in rewarding me with 
 sweet peace when I had done that which was 
 right. 
 
 It is not to convince you that this sure Guide 
 to happiness is with you, for I think you have 
 all felt its operations, and know it to be a re- 
 prover for evil and a rewarder for well doing ; 
 but it is to call you to a diligent heed to all its 
 monitions, that my desires are chiefly directed. 
 
 In order to stimulate you to begin in good 
 earnest to live according to its dictates, I will 
 tell you a little of the experience of one who 
 has finished his work on earth, and whose spirit, 
 I have no doubt, is gathered into those joys, 
 
130 
 
 prepared for the righteous, where the " morning 
 stars/ 5 (those who yielded up the morning 
 of their days in faithful obedience to the in- 
 speaking Word,) " sing together." He said, 
 " In proportion as I endeavour to do well, I 
 feel that I am enabled to do so. There is some- 
 thing within me that stimulates to good ; that 
 encourages me to persevere in what is good ; 
 and even tells me what is good. Oh! may I 
 ever listen to its silent, but most important in- 
 timations. May I ever follow that secret moni- 
 tor within me, and both desire and walk worthy 
 of its reproofs and persuasions." 
 
 I am now willing to give you, from my own 
 experience, one instance of our heavenly Fa- 
 ther's readiness to meet a sincere desire to fol- 
 low his teachings, however young in years we 
 may be. 
 
 At an early period of my childhood, I was 
 much afflicted in body. The skill of physi- 
 cians, medicinal springs and careful nursing, 
 failed to cure me. I was not ill. I could run 
 about and play with my brothers and sisters ; 
 but I felt very desirous to be as well as they 
 were. One day, my dear mother came to me 
 and said, "My dear child, all has been done 
 
131 
 
 for thee, that I can do : — now, if thou wilt try 
 to be a good girl, and ask thy Father who is 
 in heaven, to be with thee and strengthen thee 
 to do right, perhaps he will cure thee." 
 
 Her words made a deep impression, and I 
 immediately resolved to begin. I did not wait 
 for the coming morning. I watched over all 
 my dispositions, my words and my actions, and 
 endeavoured not to sin in any of these. I did 
 not know, till then, that it was such an easy 
 thing to be good ; and the reason was, I had 
 a will to be so, and petitioned my heavenly Fa- 
 ther to help me. 
 
 As I followed my internal Guide, and was 
 obedient to my dear parents, I was favoured 
 with clear discoveries of what was offensive in 
 the Divine sight. I saw that telling an un- 
 truth, even in jest, was sinful. It is not need- 
 ful to tell of all the little duties I was enabled 
 to fulfil, nor of the many errors I was taught 
 to shun. 
 
 Try for yourselves, dear young readers. 
 You will find this inward Guide will lead to 
 peace ; and as you pass through the cares and 
 snares of this life, you will have, nigh at hand, 
 
132 
 
 a never failing friend to rely on in every time 
 of need. 
 
 Be persuaded then to make your heavenly 
 Father your friend, by forsaking every thing 
 his spirit teaches you is wrong. I can tell 
 you, from experience, that every departure 
 from duty is a departure from peace. For 
 though I continued for a long time in the 
 enjoyment of that peace which attends well 
 doing, and was much relieved in body ; yet I 
 afterwards suffered my mind to w T ander from 
 the safe way. I coveted many things that I 
 saw, particularly in dress, which I thought 
 would add to my enjoyment. In this state of 
 mind, I encountered trials and vexations w 7 hich 
 I should not have felt, had I not let my mind 
 out after vanity; thus going counter to the 
 teachings of the inward Monitor. In this un- 
 settled state, I continued about one year, when 
 I met w 7 ith a close trial in the death of a little 
 sister. I mourned the loss I had sustained. I 
 often mentally followed her pure spirit into 
 the abodes of bliss, and desired to be prepared 
 to join her. 
 
 At this time, He whose mercies are new 
 
133 
 
 every morning, again made me sensible that I 
 was encompassed with his love, and that he 
 was with me. But I now found it harder work 
 to keep near him, than when I first entered 
 into covenant with him. The temptations to 
 transgress his holy law, written in my heart, 
 were also stronger; but after some months, I 
 was privileged to commune with him in spirit, 
 and I think I may say for your encourage- 
 ment, and without boasting, that I was ena- 
 bled, through obedience to the teachings of his 
 spirit, to worship him in his temple. — The 
 heart is his temple, where he loves to dwell, 
 when it is kept clean and pure. I was always 
 glad when meeting days came ; often did I shed, 
 tears then, though I knew not why — they were 
 tears of joy and of consolation. This was 
 about my thirteenth year. 
 
 Now, my dear readers, I am fully convinced 
 that the same Almighty Power that was able 
 to preserve me one day, or one hour faultless 
 before him, continues able to keep every day, 
 and through the course of a long life, the watch- 
 ful and sincere mind in a state of acceptance. 
 
 When I look back upon the years I have 
 numbered, I can trace my perplexities, morti- 
 
134 
 
 fications and troubles, to unfaithfulness to that 
 inward Monitor, which I ardently desire you 
 to consult upon all occasions — acting in accord- 
 ance with its dictates. Then will you know 
 the truth of the scripture testimony, that the 
 mind which is stayed thereupon will be kept 
 in perfect peace. 
 
 I am your friend. 
 
 BRIEF ACCOUNT 
 
 OF THE LAST ILLNESS AND EXPRESSIONS OF 
 
 JOHN B. BARKER, 
 
 WHO DIED AT THE AGE OF FOURTEEN. 
 
 John B. Barker, son of Slocum and Hannah 
 Barker, of the state of New York, was born 
 in the third month of 1816. He was much in- 
 clined to sobriety from his early childhood, and 
 was of an amiable and affectionate disposition. 
 As his years increased, he became the object of 
 parental and fraternal affection, in the relations 
 
135 
 
 of a dutiful son and a beloved brother. Be- 
 coming increasingly useful, not only as an as- 
 sistant in the business of the family, but as a 
 virtuous example to others, the separation oc- 
 casioned by his removal was the more afflict- 
 ing. During his last sickness, he bore his pain 
 (which at times was very severe) with great 
 patience and fortitude, and quietly submitted 
 to whatever was thought necessary to be ad- 
 ministered. 
 
 Notwithstanding much was done to restore 
 him to health, it soon became evident that his 
 close was near. When his physicians could do 
 no more, his father let him know what they 
 thought of his condition, informing him that 
 the progress of the disorder indicated that he 
 had but a very short time to stay with them. 
 At first he seemed surprised, and said, "Is not 
 father too much alarmed ? The doctor said I 
 should get well." 
 
 The afflicted father, feeling concerned to im- 
 press the mind of his beloved child with the 
 solemn realities of his situation, again told him 
 that notwithstanding their near affection, yet 
 they must part with him. He then appeared to 
 be centred in solemn meditation for a little time, 
 
136 
 
 as if in a state of deep mental inquiry ; after 
 which he said, " I fear I am not good enough 
 to die." His father told him he had ever been 
 a good child, and that it had always appeared 
 uppermost in his mind to do right. He replied 
 that it had been so, and that wherein he had 
 ever done wrong, he was sorry for it. After 
 a short space, in which he seemed to slumber, 
 he revived again, and thus expressed himself: 
 " I suppose I must die. May you all take 
 warning by me. Do as well as you know 
 how." There being many present, he said, 
 " You all know what is right, and all that is 
 required of you is to do as well as you know. 
 I have always known what is right" 
 
 To his weeping sisters, he spoke in a very 
 feeling and affecting manner, saying, " My 
 dear sisters, I am young to give you counsel, 
 but I want you to do as well as you can. 
 You know what is right, and all that is re- 
 quired of you is to do as w r ell as you know." 
 His brothers having gone to bed, were sent for 
 at his request. On coming to him, they wept 
 exceedingly. He looked cheerfully on them 
 and said, " We have spent some time together, 
 and it is not likely we shall be together much 
 
137 
 
 more. I want that you should be good boys. 
 Dont play with bad boys ; and instead of play- 
 ing in the streets on first days, be at home 
 reading your books/' He then took each of 
 them by the hand and bade them farewell. 
 
 Having taken leave of his near relations, 
 kissing them as he took them by the hand, he 
 seemed desirous to fall asleep. He lived an- 
 other day — a day of severe bodily pain ; during 
 which he said but little; yet at times when 
 more easy, observing his family mourning for 
 him, he would say, " Do not mourn for me, 
 but give me up." On parting with some of his 
 friends, he took them by the hand, regarding 
 them with a countenance expressive of affec- 
 tion, and as serene as at any time of his life. 
 As the solemn close approached, he said, " I 
 am fainting away ;" and thus quietly breathed 
 his last. 
 
 "SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO 
 COME UNTO ME." 
 
 The blessed Jesus took little children in his 
 arms and blessed them and bore this testimony, 
 that of such is the kingdom of Heaven, The 
 
138 
 
 innocent teachable state of a little child is 
 watched over for good by the heavenly Parent. 
 By the influence of His love, he would keep 
 them out of all wrong things and preserve 
 them in sweetness. As they are willing to 
 dwell within this influence, they are fitted for 
 the heavenly kingdom. 
 
 This truth was recently realized by a child 
 but little more than six years old, who on being 
 told she was very sick and not likely to get 
 well, asked, " Father, have I ever told thee a 
 story ?" He replied " no, never." " Then," 
 said she, " my heavenly Father will have me." 
 Calling her uncle to her, she said, " Here 
 uncle, take hold of my little hand and kiss it, 
 thee can then bid my grandmother and my cou- 
 sins farewell for me, for I am going to leave 
 you." 
 
 How precious the effect, thus realized, of 
 coming early in life under the guidance of the 
 Good Spirit. This dear child felt no alarm on 
 being told she would not get well. She was 
 at once permitted to feel that the preserving 
 influence of heavenly love had been, during her 
 short life, round about her, keeping her from 
 doing wrong ; and her infant mind felt a confi- 
 dence that therefore, on leaving her earthly 
 
139 
 
 home, her heavenly Father would take her to 
 himself; and in this confidence there was peace. 
 
 "THEY WHO SEEK ME EARLY, SHALL 
 FIND ME." 
 
 Through this blessed promise, our heavenly 
 Parent seeks to attract the children unto Him- 
 self; — seeks to draw their attention to the 
 secret intimations of his love, whereby they 
 would be encouraged in all that is good — in all 
 things that would promote their happiness. 
 
 This same gentle intimation would also show 
 them what is evil, and caution them from join- 
 ing In therewith ; also, when a fault has been 
 committed, its reproofs will gently lead to re- 
 pentance ; thus ensuring a return to happiness. 
 
 Cultivate then, dear children, tenderness of 
 feeling; — encourage that state of mind, in 
 which the gentle touches of heavenly love can 
 be easily perceived, that you may be kept in 
 safety, — preserved in all tenderness and love ! 
 
 I knew a child who very early in life yield- 
 ed to the government of this blessed influence — 
 She can now, with her own children around her, 
 look back with feelings of gratitude over many 
 
140 
 
 past scenes, wherein the watchful care of her 
 heavenly Father was over her, tendering her 
 feelings, and producing serious reflections ; — 
 causing too the endeavour so to watch over her 
 words and actions, as not to say or do any 
 thing that would cause uneasiness on lying 
 down at night. This little girl whose name 
 was Lydia N., told me, that when at Trenton 
 boarding school, she and one of her companions 
 set out to pay a visit. — Their road lay through 
 an orchard, belonging to the Friend to whose 
 house they were going : as they passed along, 
 they perceived some apples under the trees, and 
 stopped to eat. While so engaged, they were 
 watched over for good by that inward Teacher 
 whom little Lydia had early learned to obey — 
 so that she soon heard (as she told me) an in- 
 ward voice distinctly saying, " stealing ap- 
 ples — stealing apples — stealing apples." She 
 laid down her apples, told her companion how 
 she felt, and they went on their way rejoicing 
 in the evidence thus given them, that the good 
 Spirit was with little children, to warn them 
 of the approach of evil. 
 
 Some children may suppose it not wrong to 
 pick an apple from under a tree and eat it, and 
 
141 
 
 tinder certain circumstances it would not be 
 wrong, but Lydia and her companion felt the 
 secret reproof 4 , and as they heeded it* the re* 
 ward was peace* The remembrance of this oc* 
 currence*. simple as it may appear, acted as a 
 w T atchword in after-life*, causing in her great 
 care not to meddle with any thing (however 
 small) to which she had no right. 
 
 A similar evidence in the case of Isaac L* 
 Was related to me — I will give it in his own 
 words* " When but four years old, I was left 
 alone in the room where the loaf sugar wag 
 kept I took a lump and eat it — then came the 
 convictions of Truth — I thought, what have 1 
 done ? — I have stolen^ — I am a thief! — The 
 pain I then felt is not yet forgotten, though I 
 am now an old man." 
 
 Another somewhat similar instance of the 
 convicting operation of the inward Monitor^ 
 was told me by Susan M., who when very 
 young was sent by her mother to buy a ball of 
 cotton ;-— two cents being given her to make 
 the purchase with. — When she got to the store, 
 she found the balls which were sold for one 
 cent, looked as large as those for which her 
 mother had usually given two — so she con- 
 cluded to take one of them, and spend the other 
 
142 
 
 cent for herself in candy. This was according- 
 ly clone. — But though her mother did not dis- 
 cover the deception, and the candy was good, 
 yet there was no enjoyment. She felt she had 
 done wrong, and was very unhappy. — When 
 bed-time came, she retired ; but could not sleep. 
 At last, so great was her mental suffering, that 
 though she knew (owing to the strict discip- 
 line exercised in the family) that she would be 
 severely punished, she called her mother and 
 confessed all to her. She said the bodily pun- 
 ishment received, though severe, was nothing 
 to the mental agony felt, before making the con- 
 fession. When all w T as over, she could go 
 peacefully to sleep, under the consciousness 
 that she had done what she could toward mak- 
 ing reparation for the fault she had committed. 
 Now, dear children, if you would be pre- 
 served from doing evil, if you would be kept 
 in harmony with the good Spirit in you, and 
 in love with all around you, early seek unto 
 the inward Teacher, and you will find his Spir- 
 it leading you away from all wrong things, 
 and encouraging you in all that is good. — 
 
 Remember the promise — " They who seek me 
 
 early, shall find me." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 An Address 7 
 
 Early Remembrances 9 
 
 Isaac Martin 22 
 
 An Account of Phebe Wood 24 
 
 Samuel Kilpin 26 
 
 To the Young Reader 28 
 
 An Incident 30 
 
 From a Mother 31 
 
 Secret Convictions 33 
 
 Jacob R ilter 38 
 
 Further Account of Jacob Ritter 43 
 
 The Indian's Acknowledgment 48 
 
 Counsel to a Young Person 47 
 
 Memoirs of Early Days 50 
 
 Job Scott 57 
 
 A Tree 63 
 
 Narrative 67 
 
 Elisha Kirk 70 
 
 Charles Parry 73 
 
 The Divine Witness 74 
 
 Abraham Lower 79 
 
144 
 
 Narrative 8? 
 
 Sarah Grubb 97 
 
 Thomas Scattergood 99 
 
 Reflections 105 
 
 Good Impressions 107 
 
 A Friend to Little Children 110 
 
 Remembrances * 113 
 
 Samuel W. Clarke 118 
 
 Memoirs of William Boen 124 
 
 To the Young Readers 129 
 
 Account of John 15. Barker 134 
 
 Suffer Little Children to come unto me 137 
 
 &< They who seek me early," &c. 139 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 Several of the pieces in this book are written 
 in the narrative style, without the authors* 
 names appended — the omission was at their 
 request* 
 
 APR191950 
 

 
 ^ ^ Y * ° / ^a ' * * Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process, 
 v ^>> * ^> Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 
 ^ ^ Treatment Date: April 2006 
 
 PreservationTechnologies 
 
 A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVA7 
 
 
 S 
 
 [V A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 
 
 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
 
 rVanherru Tnu/nchin PA llfiHfifi 
 
 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
 Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
 (724)779-2111 
 
 k °, ^ ** v * Am>, \ 
 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 238 878 9