Cljeap iReposftorp. PJLTIEJWT JOE: WILD ROBERT: BAN AND JTANEs AND THE GIN SHOP. Sold by HOWARD and EVANS, (Printers to the Cheap Repository for Moral and Religious tracts,) No. 41, and 42, Long-Lane, XVfst-Smithfielel, and J. HAT- CHARi),No. 190, Piccadilly, London. By S. HA'ZA&D, bath • aiv.l by all Booksellers, Newsmen, Mid Hawkers, in Town ana Country. %* Great allowance mil be made to Shopkeepers and Haiders PRICE ONE- PEN NY, or 6s. per Hundred. entered at i^fimeiS ipall PATIENT JOE 5 OR TUB NEWCASTLE COLLIER, TUT AVE you heard of a Collier of honest renown* & ^ Who dwelt on the borders of Newcastle town? His name it was Joseph — you better may know, If I tell you he always was called Patient Joe. Whatever betided he thought it was right> And Providence still he kept ever in sight ; To th ose who love God let things turn as they wou'd He \va;s certain that ail work'd together for good. He prais'd his Creator whatever be lei ; How thankful was Joseph when matters went well ! How sincere were his carols of praise for good heaitlr And how grateful for any increase in his wealth i In trouble he bow'd him to God's holy will j How contented was Joseph when matters went ill! When rich and when poor he alike understood, That all things together were working for good-. If the land was afflicted with war he declared, Twasa needful correction for sins which he shar'd And when merciful heaven bid slaughter to cease, >w thankful was Joe for the blessings of peace ! ' 4 When taxes ran high, and provisions were dear, Still Joseph declared he had nothing to fear ; It was but a trial he well understood, From him who made all work together for good* Tho' his wife was but sickly, his gettings but Small, A mind so submissive prepared him for all He liv'd on his gains, were they greater or less, And the Giver he ceas'd not each moment to bless. When another child came he receiv'd him with joy, And Providence bless'd who had sent him a boy ; But when the child dy'd said poor Joe I'm content, For God has a right to recall what he lent. It was Joseph's ill fortune to work in a pit, With some who believed profaneness was wit ; When disasters befelhim much pleasure they shew'd And laugh'd andsaid Joseph, will this work for good? But ever when these would profanely advance, That this happen 'd by luck and that happen'd by chance, Still Joseph insisted no chance could be found, Not a sparrow by accident falls to the ground. Among his companions who work'd in the pit, And made him the but of their profligate wit, Was idle Sam Jenkins, who drank and who gam'd, Who mock'd at his Bible and was not asham'd. One day at the pit his old comrades he found, And they chatted preparing to go under ground; Sam Jenkins, as usual, was turning to jest, Joe's notion, thatall things which happen'd were best* As Joe on the ground had unthinkingly laid, His provision for dinner of bacon and bread, A dos on the watch seiz'd the bread and the meat, And off with his prey ran with footsteps so fleet. Now to see the delight that Sam Jenkins exprest; « Is the loss of thy dinner too, Joe, for the best ? « No doubt on't'" said Joe, « but as I must eat, 'Tis my duty to try to recover my meat. So saying he follow'd the dog a long round, While Sam laughing and swearing went down under ground, Poor Joe soon return'd, tho' his bacon was lost, For the dog a good dinner had made at his cost. When Joseph came back he expected a sneer, But the face of each collier spoke horror and fear, " What a narrow escape has't thou had they all said, " The pit is falVn in, ana 4 Sam Jenkins is dead!" How sincere was the gratitude Joseph expressed; ^ How warm the compassion which glow'd in his breast ! Thus events great and small if aright understood, Will be found to be working together for good. ."When my meat," Joseph cry % " was just now stol'n away, And I had no prospect of eating to day, How cou'd .it appear to a short sighted sinner, That my life would be sav'd by the loss of my din- ner!" Z» THE EXECUTION OF WILD ROBERT: Being a Warning to all Parents. XX^ILD ROBERT was a graceless youth, I And bold in every sin ; I n ea r I y I jfe wi t h petty the fts , His course he did begin. But those who deal in lesser sins, In great will soon offend ; And petty thefts not check'd betimes, Jn murder soon may end. And now like any beasts of prey, Wild Robert shrunk from view, Save Wt'.eri at eve on Bagshot Heath, He met his harden'd erew. With thisfiercj crew Wild Robert there, On plunder set his mind ; And watch'd and provd'd the live-long night, To rob and slay mankind. Bpjt God whose vengeance never sleeps, Tho' he delays the blow, Can in a single moment lay, The prosperous villain low. One night, a fatal night indeed I Within a neighbouring wood, A harmless passenger he robb d, And dy'd his hands in blood. The direful deed performed, he went To shew his golden spoils, When vengeful Justice, unawares, Surpris'dhim in her toils. Wild Robert seiz'd at bnce was known, (No crape had hid his face) Imprison d, try'd, condemned to die ? ' Soon run was Roberts race! Since short the time the laws allow, To murderers doom'd to die, How earnest should the suppliant wretch, To heaven for mercy cry 1 But he, alas ! no mercy sought, Tho' summon'd to his fate, The cart drew near the gallows tree, Where throng'd spectators wait. Slow as he pass'd no pious tongue, .Pour'd forth a pitying prayer : Abhorrence all who saw him felt, He, horror and despair. And now the dismal death-bell toll'd, The fatal cord was hung, While sudden, deep, and dreadful shrieks, Burst forth amidst the throng. ■ Hark ! 'tis his mother's voice he hears ! What horror shake's his frame, j Tis rage and fury fill his breast, Not "pity, love, or shame, " One moment hold," the mother cries, " His life one moment spare, One kiss, my miserable child, My Robert once so dear ! M Hence, cruel mother, hence/' he said, Oh ! deaf to nature's cry ; " Your's is the fault, I liv'd abhor'd, And unlamented die. You gave me life, but with it gave, What made that life a curse ; My sins uncurb 'd, my mind untaught, Soon grew from bad to worse. I thought that if I 'scap'd the stroke, Of man's avenging rod, All wou'd be well, and I might mock The vengeful power of God. My hands no honest trade were taught, My tongue no pious pray'r ; Uncheck'd I learnt to break the laws, To pilfer, lie, and swear. The Sabbath-bell thattolPd to church, To me unheeded rung ; God's holy name and word I curs'd, With my blaspheming tongue. No mercy now your ruin'd child, Of heaven can dare implore, I mock'd at grace, and now, I fear* My day of grace is o'er. Blame not the law that dooms your son, Compared with you 'tis mild ; ? Tis you have sentenced me to death, To hell have doom'd your child," He spoke, and fixing fast the cord, Resign 'd his guilty breath ; Down at his feet his mother fell, By conscience struck with death. Ye parents taught by this sad tale, Avoid the path she trod ; And teach your sons in early years, The fear and love of God. So shall their days, tho' doom'd to toil, With peace and hope be blest; And heaven, when life's short task is o'er, Receive their souls to rest. DAN AND JANE ; OR FAITH AND WORKS. % Cale. yf^OOD Dm and J fine were man and wife, And I i v o a loving kind of life ; One point however they disputed, And each by rtitfis his mate confuted. ■J was Faith and Works— this knotty question, They found not easy of digestion, While Dan alone forfakh contended, Jane equally good works defended. . " They are not Christians sure but Turks, Who build on faith and scoff at works/' Quoth Jane— -while eager Dan reply'd, V By none but heathens faith. "s deny'd. Th tell you, wife,-" at length quoth Dan, " A i tory of a right good man, A patriarch sage of ancient days, A man of faith whom all must praise. 3fn his own country he possess Yi Vvhate'er can make a wise man blest;- 1 lis was ti e flock, the field, the spring, in sb'ori a little rural king; V\ t, pkiis'd he quits mis native land, Bv 6Si'Jf ftl u& divine command ; God bade him go and he content Went forth not knowing where he \venr„ He trusted in the promise made, And undisputing strait obey'd, The heavenly word he did not doubt But prov'd his faith by going out." Jane answer 'd with some little pride— " I've an example on my side; And tho' my tale be somewhat longer, , I trust you'll find it vastly stronger. Hi tell you, Daniel, of a man, The holiest since the world began, Who now Gods favour is receiving For prompt obeying not believing. One only son this man possesr, h; whom his righteous age was blest; And more to mark the grace of heaven, This son by miracle was given ; And from this child the word Divine, Had promised an illustrious line. When lo ! at once a voice he hears. Which sounds like thunder in his ears; God says — Go sacrifice thy son! — This moment, # Lord, it shall be done. He goes, and instantly prepares, 7 o slay this child of many prayers/ Now her-- yon see the grand expedience, Qf worksj of actual sound obedience-. This was not faiih, but act and deed. I The Lord commands the child shall bleed. Thus Abraham acted" Jenny cried ; " Thus Abraham trusted:* Dan replied. " Abraham !" quoth Jane, " why that's my man/' "No Abraham's him I mean, says Dan. He stands a monument of faith* "No, , 'tis for works the scripture saith." ".'Tis for his faith that I defend him "'Tisfor obedience 1 commend him." Thus he — thus she — both warmly feel, And lose their temper in their zeal ; Too quick each others choice to blarr.v „ They did not see each meant the same. At length "good wife/' said honest Dan, * We're talking of the self-same man, The works you praise I own indeed, Grow from that faith for which I plead; And Abraham wham for faith I quote, For works deserves especial note: 'Tis not enough of faith to talk, A man of God with God must walk ! Our doctrines are at last the same, They only differ in the name. The faith I fight for is the root, The works you value are the fruit. How shall you knew my creed's sincere, Unless in works my faith appear ? How shall 1 know a tree's alive, Unless I see it bear and thrive? Your works not growing on my root, Would prove they were not genuine fruit. If faith produce no works, 1 see That faith is not a living tree. Thus faith and works together grow, No sep'rate life they e'er can know ; They're soul and body hand and heart, What God hathjoin d, let no one part. THE GIN-SHOP; Or, A PEEP INTO A PRISON. LOOK thro' the land from North to South, And look from East to West ; And see what is to Ehglishttre.fl, Of life the deadliest pest. It is not want, tho' that ; ad ; Nor war. tho' that is worse : But Britons brave endure, - ,7 ! A self inflicted curse. Go where you will thrdtrghbul the realm. You'll find the re1|>nh1jg ^i, In cities, villages, and towns ; — The monster's name is GIN, The Prince of Darkness never sent To man a dead Her foe ; " My name is Legion," it may say, 1 he source of every woe. Nor does the fiend alone deprive, The labourer of h:s \ < alth, That is not all, it murders too His honest name arid health. We say the times are grievous hard, And hard they are, 'tis true But drunkards to your wives and babe They're harder made by you. The drunkard's tax is self impos'd, Like every other sin; The taxes altogether lay No weight so great as Gin, 14 The state compels no man to drink, - v . Compels no man to game; 'Tis Gin and gambling sink him down, To rags, and want, and shame. The kindest husband, chang'd by Gin, Is for a tyrant known ; The tenderest heart that nature made, Becomes a heart of stone. Id many a house the harmless babes, T> Are poorly cloath'd and fed; Because the craving Gin -Shop takes The children's daily bread. fcbme, neighbor, take a walk with me. Thro' many a London street; And see the cause of penury, In hundreds we shall meet. We shall not need to travel far — r Behold that great man's door; He well discerns that idle crew, Vrom the deserving poor. He will relieve with liberal hand, '■ The child of honest thrift ; Slit where long scores at Gm-Shops stand, i He will withhold his gift. Behold that shivering female there, Who plies her woeful trade : "Tis ten to one you'll find that Gin That hopeless wretch has made. Look down these steps and view below, Yon ce 1 1 a j • u n d e r pro u r\A * v; There every want, and every woe Kj y Ancl every sin is found, 15 Those little wretches trembling there, With hunger and with cold, Were by their parent'.- love of Gin, To sin and miser j sold. Blest be those friends* to human kind, Who take these wretches up, 'Ere they have drank 1 the bitter dregs, Of their sad parents' cup. Look thro' that prison's iron bars, Look thro' that dismal grate ; And learn what dire misfortunes brought So terrible a fate. The debtor and the felon too, Tho' differing much in sin ; Too oft you'll find were thither brought, By all-destroying Gin. Yet heaven forbid I should confound Calamity with guilt ! Or name the debtor's lesser fault, With blood of brother spilt. To prison dire misfortunes oft, The guiltless debtor brings Yet oft'ner far it will be found, From Gin the misery springs.. See the pale manufact'rer the*\ How lank and lean he lies ! How haggard is his sickly cheek ! How dim his hollow eyes ! He plied the loom with good success, His wages still were high ! Twice what the village labYer gains, His master did supply, * The Philanthropic Society. / 16 No book-debts kept him from his cash- All paid as soon as due ; His wages on the Saturday, To fail he never knew. How ample had his gains suffic'd, On wife and children spent ! But all must for his pleasures go ! All to the Gin- Shop went. See that apprentice young in years, But hacloiey'd long in sin ; What made him rob his master's till ; Alas ! 'twas love of Gin. That serving man — I knew him once So jaunty, spruce, and smart ! Why did he steal, then pawn the plate ! 'Twas Gin ensnar'd his heart. But hark ! what dismal sound is that ? Ti§ Saint Sepulchre's bell ! It tolls, alas ! for human guilt, Some malefactor's knell, O ! woeful sound ! O ! what could cause Such punishment and sin ? Hark i hear his words, he owns the cause Bad Company and Gin. And when the future ht is fix'd, Of darkness, fire, and chains, How can the drunkard hope to 'scape Those everlasting pains? For if the murd'rer's doom'd to woe, As holy writ declares, The drunkard with self murderers That dreadful portion shares. THE END.