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 upon the shingle covering'"
 
 ^xmI Wnxpx; 
 
 OS, 
 
 BEGIiNNING LIFE. 
 
 GALL & INGLIS, 6 GEORGE STREPn. 
 
 LCKDON : nOULSIOK & WrvIGHT.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Ohap. 
 
 
 
 Taos 
 
 L- 
 
 —Coming to Town, 
 
 5 
 
 IL 
 
 — Temptation and Trouble, 
 
 10 
 
 III. 
 
 — Youthful Anxieties, 
 
 16 
 
 lY.- 
 
 —Resolutions and Eeformation 
 
 22 
 
 V. 
 
 — Solitude in a Crowd, 
 
 2» 
 
 YI. 
 
 —The Visit, 
 
 35 
 
 YII. 
 
 — THANKSGITINa-DAY, 
 
 40 
 
 YIII. 
 
 —The House of God, 
 
 48 
 
 IX. 
 
 —The Su>-day-School, 
 
 54 
 
 X. 
 
 —Early Trials, 
 
 60 
 
 XI. 
 
 —Courage, 
 
 66 
 
 XII. 
 
 — Conviction, . 
 
 70 
 
 XIII. 
 
 —Correspondence, . 
 
 75 
 
 XIV. 
 
 —The Pastor, . . . . 
 
 83 
 
 XY. 
 
 —A Eemarkable Changs, 
 
 91 
 
 XVI. 
 
 — Proyilence, . 
 
 93 
 
 1 QnA'~,or
 
 Jfr;mli |j;irpfr; 
 
 OB, 
 
 BEGINNING LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 COillNG TO TOWN. 
 
 It was Frank's first visit to a great city, 
 and he looked at every thing with wonder. 
 The noise of the streets seemed to deafen hiui, 
 and lie scarcely escaped being run over by the 
 carts and drays. 
 
 " This," thought he, " is New York ! I really 
 did not think it was so large I " And yet what 
 Frank had seen as yet was less than the hun- 
 dredth part of New York But the rows of tall 
 houses were so long, and tlie shop-windows 
 were so fine, and the sights in the streets were 
 so new and wonderful, that he was in a sort 
 of rapture.
 
 FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 After Frank had spent most of the day in 
 rambling about, he found his feet very sore 
 and his whole body wearied. After taking tea, 
 he was shewn to his lodgings, away up in the 
 attic of a three-storey house. Now it was 
 that he began to feel that he was in a strange 
 place. Two older boys occupied the same 
 little chamber; they were, like himself, em- 
 ployed in shops, in John Street. They had 
 already gone to bed. Frank sat down a few 
 moments, and began to think over the events 
 of the busy day, which seemed to him like a 
 dream. At length, he opened his httle red 
 trunk, and the first thing he saw was the 
 pocket-bible, which his mother had given 
 him. You may be sure some tears fell upon 
 it, as he opened it. He found the marker, 
 which his sister had embroidered for him, and 
 read on it the words, " how I LOVE thy 
 LAW ! " He kneeled down and prayed to God, 
 with many tears, that he might be kept and 
 blessed, now that he was separated from his 
 parents. 
 
 Frank's bed was nob so good as the one 
 which he had left at Coventry; and he was 
 surprised, for he thought everything would 
 be very grand in the great city. But he soon
 
 co^mra to town. 7 
 
 forgot himself, and slept (as healthy boys 
 sleep), soundly and well, until the day dawned. 
 
 It was a bright winter morning, and Ked 
 and Joe were already dressed. They did not 
 wait for Bible or prayer, but hurried away to 
 their shops. Frank had time only to read a 
 few verses, and to offer a short prayer. Boys 
 in the city must rise early, or they will lose 
 their devotions. And unless they form the 
 habit at first, they are apt to have prayerless 
 days. I am afraid there are hundreds who 
 never pray at all. 
 
 The next thing was a quick walk, or rather 
 run, to the place of business. Here Frank 
 had to kindle a coal-fire, which he found no 
 easy job, and then to open the shop, and sweep 
 and dust it out. Mr Boggs came in about 
 nine o'clock, and then Frank hurried to hia 
 breakfast. It was the first breakfast he ever 
 took without family prayer, and he thought 
 of his father, mother, and sisters. He ate 
 fast; and, to tell the truth, there was not 
 much to eat. His mind wandered away to 
 the full table in the country. A good many 
 persons sat at the table, but no one took any 
 notice of the little country-boy. 
 
 It would take long to tell of the day's work.
 
 8 FKAXK HAEPER. 
 
 Frank was kept very busy, as is usual with the 
 youngest. He was sent on many errands, to 
 strange places, and several times lost his way : 
 for which he was rebuked by his employers, 
 and laughed at by the clerks and porter. Once 
 or twice he was brought into trouble by bad 
 boys ; and once he had his fist doubled to 
 strike a fellow who had teased hira ; but he 
 thought better of it. And he afterwards found, 
 that the wisest plan in the streets is to go about 
 one's business as quietly as possible. He was 
 shocked at the bad language which he heard 
 from the boys even younger than himself ; es- 
 pecially from those who carried newspapers, 
 and from ill-looking chaps, who seemed to 
 have no work to do. In a great city, it is im- 
 possible to avoid hearing such things ; and the 
 only way for a good boy is to take no notice 
 of them, except to set the mind firmly against 
 such evil words, asking God's help to be kept 
 clear of the like sin. 
 
 During the few moments of the day which 
 he had to himself, and was waiting for his 
 parcels or letters, Frank's mind strayed off 
 to his country home ; and he sighed to think 
 that he was so far away. But he comforted 
 himself by remembering what his father had
 
 COMI^'G TO TOWN. 9 
 
 told him at parting: " My son, you are going 
 to a strange place ; but if you are faithful, you 
 will be able to support your mother and me 
 in our old age, if we need it/' And then he 
 said to himself: ''I will do anything, and 
 bear anything, to help my beloved parents." 
 
 When the day was over, and the work of 
 the shop was done, he went slowly to his 
 boarding-house, weary and sad. He took his 
 hasty meal by himself, and then went to his 
 room. Ned and Joe were in high glee 
 about a nine-pin-alley which they had been 
 visiting ; but Frank could not enter into 
 their pleasure. They laughed at him when 
 he sat down to his Bible ; and, for a moment, 
 he thought he would shut it up. But then he 
 remembered how often his mother had told 
 him "never to be shamed out of what was 
 good," and so he read on. He was after- 
 wards glad of this ; for, in a little time, they 
 grew weary of their jesting. He even sum- 
 moned up resolution to kneel down by his 
 bed and pray; though Joe sang "Old Dan 
 Tucker," on purpose to disturb him, and Ned 
 threw a bit of old rag over his head, while he 
 was on his knees. I cannot say that poor 
 Frank s thoughts did not wander a Httle; but
 
 10 FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 he thus gained a great victory over himsell 
 The boys fixed on him the name of the Par- 
 son; and gave notice at the table that ae 
 would preach the next Sunday. Frank co- 
 loured a little, but was wise enough to say 
 nothinor. 
 
 Let the reader observe, that a boy who is 
 afraid of being laughed at, will never become 
 a man of independence ; and a boy who is 
 laughed out of his prayers will be very likely 
 to be laughed out of many other good habits 
 and principles. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TESrPTATION AND TEOUBLB. 
 
 A FEW weeks passed away, and Frank had 
 become quite famihar with his business. He 
 had received two pleasant letters from home, 
 which he carefully folded up, after he had read 
 them about twenty times. He had sent a knit- 
 ting-basket to his mother, and a pair of gloves 
 to each of his sisters. It was becoming easy for 
 him to find his way. He was quite at home 
 at the post-office, the wharves, and the banks.
 
 TEJtPTATION AND TROUBLE. J 1 
 
 Messrs Boggs and Buncombe, his employers, 
 began to find that be was always in bis place ; 
 tbe clerks saw that be was good-natured ; and 
 Wickes, tbe book-keeper, bad even gone so 
 far as to give bim a second-band pincbbeck 
 watcb, wbicb kept tolerable time if carefully 
 set every morning. 
 
 But trouble was near.. And let me tell my 
 young reader, no youtb in town can escape 
 trouble. 
 
 One very cold nigbt, wben be came borne 
 from tbe store, be found Briggs and Denton 
 waiting for bim at tbe door. 
 
 ''Come, my lad,'' said Denton, ''we are 
 going to the Bowery Theatre, and we mean 
 to take you along." 
 
 "I thank you," said Frank, "but I do not 
 wish to go." 
 
 " Not wish to go ! " cried he ; " and why 
 not ? It shall cost you nothing ; we are going 
 to stand treat. You shall go, Mr Parson." 
 
 To make an unpleasant story short, they 
 persuaded Frank against bis convictions. He 
 went. Their seat was in tbe gallery, and, to 
 bis sorrow, he saw and heard things that 
 night which made him sure that it was a 
 wicked place. For a few moments the no-
 
 12 FEAXK HAMPER. 
 
 velty of the thing pleased liira. He listened 
 to charming music He saw fine players, 
 decked and painted; and he was astonished 
 at the scenery and the dancing. But he al^o 
 saw and heard things which he knew were 
 neither *modest nor virtuous; and his heart 
 was full of the conviction that he was in the 
 wrong place. When they came out, in a great 
 crowd, about eleven o'clock at night, he 
 turned to the boys, and said: ''Now, mind 
 what I say — this is the first time I ever was 
 in a theatre — and it shall be the last/' 
 
 This raised a loud laugh. ''Aha!" said 
 Ned, " do you say so ? Very well, so we said, 
 three years ago ; but we have got well over 
 that; haven't we, Joe?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Joe, " I go to the theatre 
 eveiy week ; and some day I will tell you 
 w^here we get the money. And there are other 
 places, too, where we mean to take you; mind 
 that, Mr Parson." 
 
 These words opened Frank's eyes ; he began 
 to see his danger, and was more firmly re- 
 solved to resist these temptations. He thought 
 over several texts of Scripture, and wished he 
 had remembered them a little sooner. How 
 solemnly his aged father had said to him, " My
 
 TEIMPTATION AND TEOUBLE. 13 
 
 son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou 
 not/' 
 
 When they reached their boarding-house 
 in Dey Street, the boys found that they vrere 
 locked out; for it was near midnight. The 
 noise of wheels had almost ceased in Broad- 
 Avay, and the only sound they heard was the 
 sharp click of the watchman's staff upon the 
 flag-stones. 
 
 Presently the heavy sound of the City-hall 
 bell began to give the signal of a fire. Almost 
 immediately the engines were out, and a 
 crowd began to gather. Ned and Joe were 
 soon amono; the thromx, and Frank saw no- 
 thing to do but to join them. Before they 
 reached the place of the fire, Joe Denton 
 stumbled over a rope and in recovering him- 
 self, thrust his elbow into the eye of a fireman, 
 who struck him a smart blow. Joe and Ned 
 were soon engaged in a brawl v/ith the fire- 
 men; and Frank was tiying to puU them 
 away, when all of a sudden he felt his arm 
 roughly seized, and looking round perceived 
 that he was in the hands of a sturdy man, 
 whose gilt star shewed that he was one of the 
 police. " Come, my young blade," said the 
 officer, " I must give you a lodging ; you
 
 14 PEAXK HAEPEE. 
 
 begin early. I guess your mother does not 
 know you're out?'' 
 
 Tlie very word '* mother'' went to poor 
 Frank's heart. " Indeed, indeed, sir," said he, 
 '^ I am not doing any harm — I didn't want to 
 be here — I was only trying to get those big 
 boys home." 
 
 "0 yes, the old story — IVe heard the like 
 before. Nobody is never doing no harm. But 
 111 take care of you. What is your name ?" 
 
 "Frank Harper." 
 
 " Where do you live ?" 
 
 "1 am in Boggs and Buncombe's shop, 
 John Street " 
 
 '' Where do you live ?" 
 
 *' I board at Mrs Maggs's, Dey Street^ near 
 Washington." 
 
 **Well — come on." so he hurried him 
 along, and soon arrived at the watchhouse. 
 Here he was filled with horror, to find him- 
 self in a close room, heated by a stove, almost 
 red hot, and occupied by three drunken va- 
 grants, and a woman of tawdry dress and very 
 red countenance. It was a night of wretch- 
 edness. In the morning, the chief clerk of 
 Messrs Boggs and Buncombe, having heard 
 of the boy, appeared for him and had him re-
 
 TEMPTATION AND TROUBLE. 15 
 
 leased. Poor Frank could scarcely bear the 
 looks of his emplo3'ers ; but he told them the 
 whole truth. The clerks had their sport about 
 it ; but, what was most hard to bear, the 
 larger boys, who had betrayed him into the 
 snare and then escaped, made fun of his dis- 
 tress, almost every day, for weeks after. 
 
 This is not an uncommon occurrence in a 
 great city. There are lads who, in trying to 
 brave the ridicule which comes on them, after 
 such things, only become more hardened. I 
 am glad to say it was not so with Frank. 
 He was confirmed in his determination to 
 keep out of bad company, and especially 
 never to be out at night. These hours of 
 hunger, fear, shame, and imprisonment, and 
 the disgrace which followed, were a lesson to 
 him as long as he lived. 
 
 Most of the evils which befaU youth in a 
 great city are connected with the streets. It 
 is hardly possible for a boy to be much out at 
 night, without becoming depraved. The only 
 safe rule is, to stay within doors. Yet t is 
 wonderful to observe, that you can scarcely 
 walk the streets, at any hour before midnight, 
 without meeting numbers of boys, even of 
 tender years. They are to be found in gangs
 
 1 C FEAXK HARPER. 
 
 about th3 doors of the theatre, and some- 
 times the money which gains them entrance 
 is procured by theft. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 YOUTHFUL ANXIETIES. 
 
 It \yas on a bright Saturday evening in 
 December, that Frank had an errand to the 
 foot of Chambers Street, to receive some par- 
 cels by the steamboat from Peekskill. Tho 
 boat was delayed, and this gave him half an 
 Jiour to himself, which was unusual. He 
 spent it in walking upon the pier, loaking at 
 the dark, rapid waves, crested with light 
 foam, at the numerous craft of the river, and 
 especially at the low hills of his native Jersey, 
 behind which the sun had just gone down, 
 leaving all the west in a blush with the 
 evening red. 
 
 Frank w^as not less cheerful commonly than 
 other boys of his age, but late events had made 
 him serious. He looked across the river to 
 the hills, ui the direction where hq thought
 
 YOUTHFUL ANXIETIES. 17 
 
 the little village of Coventry must lie. He 
 thought of his father ; " I suppose he is now 
 getting home the cattle, and making an end 
 of the week's work. Mother is preparing 
 everything for Sunday. Mary and Anne are 
 looking over the clothes; or perhaps hearing 
 one another say the Sunday-school lesson. 
 And here am I — by myself — and in disgrace ! '* 
 Here the little boy took out his blue hand- 
 kerchief, to wipe his eyes ; but he wept the 
 more, when he saw on the corner of it the 
 mark wrought by his mother's needle. " I 
 am sorry, I am sorry !" said he, " I have done 
 wrong — I have indeed — but I hope I have not 
 done as wrong as people think.'* And he 
 wept the more. 
 
 Be not cast down, my young friend, these 
 are manly tears ! Let every youth, who reads 
 these lines, know, that soitow for sin is 
 nothing to be ashamed of. 
 
 As Frank turned hastily, on reaching the 
 corner of the pier, he found himself met by a 
 young man of grave appearance, and kind 
 looks, who spoke to him in a civil tone, and 
 said, " Good evening, my boy ! So I see you 
 have business here, as well as mysel£" 
 B
 
 IS FEA^K HAKPZE. 
 
 * Yes, sir," he replied, " I am waiting for 
 the * Mountaineer ;' I am to get some parcels 
 by one of the hands of the boat." 
 
 " My business is with the same boat," said 
 the stranger ; " but it is not so pleasant. I 
 am looking for news of a lad who has robbed 
 our shop, and has been pursued up the river 
 by an officer." 
 
 "Ah! I hadn't heard of it. It is bad 
 ttiough when boys take to robbing." 
 
 " Bad enough, indeed ; but it is becoming 
 too common. This young fellow broke open 
 the safe of ]Mr Brownley, and took a pocket- 
 book, with eighty pounds, and papers worth 
 five times as mucL New York boys are 
 getting to be men in wickedness. Do you 
 live in town?" 
 
 "Yes," said Frank, "I do now; but I have 
 not been here long. I am a country boy." 
 
 "Then," said the other, "let me give you 
 a bit of advice, my young friend. / was a 
 country boy too, not long ago, and I know 
 something of the dangers of the city. Take 
 tare of had companions." 
 
 This he said with so much seriousness, and 
 with a look of so much cordiality, that Frank
 
 TOUTHFTJL ANXIETIES. 19 
 
 wajs encouraged to say: ''I have found out 
 already what a bad thing it is to go with 
 wicked boys/' 
 
 ''It is a good sign to hear you say so. 
 Forewarned is forearmed. And as you seem 
 to be aware of the danger, you must let me 
 put these tracts into your hands. You must 
 read them. And if you will call at our shop, 
 I will give you more. My name is Brooks ; 
 and I am a teacher in the Sunday-school of 
 the Locust Street church." 
 
 Just then the boat came in sight, Frank 
 received his packages, and was soon on his 
 way to town. But as he walked along, he 
 thought on the few words he had heard. 
 There was nothing in them, which he had 
 not known before ; and yet they had made a 
 deep impression on his mind. This should 
 encourage us always to drop a good word to 
 young persons, when we have an opportunity. 
 Some have thus been instrumental in saving 
 a soul from death. 
 
 That night Frank lay awake upon his bed, 
 thinking over his conduct. He could not 
 reproach himself, except in regard to his sin- 
 ful compliance about the theatre. But this 
 hurt his conscience, and made him think of
 
 20 FRAXK HAEPER 
 
 Other faults. So it often is. Thinking on 
 one transgression is likely to make us think 
 of other sins. "How I wonder at myself," 
 thought he. "I was ashamed to say No. 
 Kow I remember what our minister used to 
 isay, ^ Boys, if you mean to make anything in 
 the world, learn to say NO.' Now, I know 
 what he meant I was ashamed — I was 
 cowardly — I knew better!" And here his 
 thoughts began to turn into prayer, and he 
 asked God to pardon his weakness. 
 
 Frank had been piously educated, by ex- 
 cellent parents, and he knew what was right. 
 But be also knew that he bad never expe- 
 rienced that great change, which the Scrip- 
 tures call being '' born again." A long time 
 before it was day, while Joe and Ned were 
 fast asleep, be, wrapped in his cloak, was 
 kneeling down in tbe corner of his cold gar- 
 ret room, praying to God. Though not seen 
 by men, he was seen by angels, and by God. 
 Hapi^y is the youth who sometimes steals 
 time even from slumber, for such a purpose. 
 
 The next day was the SabbatL The poor 
 fellow had no one to direct him to a place of 
 worship. It is a pity that so many youth 
 are cast upon a great and wicked city, just in
 
 YOUTHFUL ANXIETIES. 21 
 
 this way. Frank did what many do. and 
 wliat he had done on other Sabbaths. He 
 wandered about the streets looking for a 
 church. He went into one; it was crowded 
 with people. The house was full of the funics 
 of incense; he saw pictures and crosses, and 
 heard prayers in a strange tongue; he did 
 not remain long. 
 
 He approached another; many coaches 
 were drawn up before it. The pews were 
 filled with rich-looking people. There was a 
 very young man in the pulpit, who was 
 preaching about the evils of enthusiasm. 
 Frank grew tired of standing, and came out. 
 After roaming through several streets, he 
 came to an old-fashioned building, and on 
 entering was shewn to a • seat in the gallery. 
 The minister was just finishing his sermon, 
 and Frank heard him several times repeat 
 these words : '' ^Yho can understand his 
 errors ? Cleanse thou me from secret faults." 
 He found that they were in the nineteenth 
 psalm. ''That means me!" thought Frank. 
 So he went home musing upon it. The words 
 rang in his ears. ''Cleanse thou me from 
 secret faults." He preached quite a little 
 sermon to himself, and turned the words inta
 
 22 PRANK HAliPEB. 
 
 prayer. When he got to the house he com- 
 mitted the whole psalm to memory. I can- 
 not say that he felt true repentance, but he 
 certainly saw more of his sins than he had 
 ever seen before. Where he had thought 
 there was one, he now beheld a thousand. 
 Thus God was causing him to " understand 
 his errors." Reader, have you any knowledge 
 of this? 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EESOLUTIONS AND REFORMATION. 
 
 Monday morning is a time when industrious 
 people feel uncommonly bright. Every thing 
 seems to take a fresh start. The body and 
 mind both have had rest, and they work with 
 a sort of spring. This is the good effect of 
 the Sabbath. Those do not feel thus, who 
 spend it in labour or frolic. 
 
 On that Monday (the fourth of December), 
 Frank was up bright and early. He had got 
 leave of Mrs Maggs to kindle a fire in the 
 dining-room, in the lower storey ; ^d there
 
 EES0LI7TI0NS AND EEPORMATION. 23 
 
 you might have seen him, at a table, with a 
 dipped-candle which he had bought, and with 
 pen and ink, very busy over a sheet of paper. 
 What can our Frank be doing? Surely he 
 is not about to make a book ! Perhaps it is 
 a letter. No such thing. At the top of the 
 sheet he has written, in fair round-hand, like 
 a ledger, these words: — 
 
 "My Eesolutions. 
 
 * I. Resolved — That I will go to church 
 every Sunday morning and afternoon. 
 
 " II. Resolved — That I will read in my 
 Bible daily. 
 
 "III. Resolved — That I will become as 
 good as ever I can." 
 
 Poor Frank! His face is all in a glow of 
 earnestness! Shall we blame him for his 
 resolutions ? No, no I The things are all 
 good — very good. But perhaps he may find 
 that it is more easy to resolve than to per- 
 form. 
 
 Our little man had set out in the week with 
 such a vehemence of purpese, that, if you had 
 been in the secret, you might have read deter- 
 mination in his very face. He even composed
 
 24 PEiJS^K HAEPEPw 
 
 his countenance to unusual sobriety. Ha 
 feared to speak, lest he should utter some- 
 fchinsj wronn^. He was resolved not to lose 
 his temper. He did his errands in half the 
 usual tima He felt so much need of being 
 honest, that he returned a piece of twine, 
 which he had previously taken from a shelf. 
 He read several chapters in the Bible, and 
 said his prayers with more attention than 
 ever before. In a word, Frank began to feel 
 as if he was almost as good a boy as he was 
 required to be. 
 
 In the evening, as they were aU sitting 
 around the fire, the company were chatting, 
 laughing, cracking nuts, and singing; but 
 Frank was very grave and silent. He felt as 
 if he was better than all around him: They 
 wondered what had come over him, and 
 thought he was sulky. Indeed it had much 
 of that appearance. But he was trjring to 
 make himself good. At length, as he was 
 going up stairs rather later than usual, with 
 his night lamp, the thought came suddenly 
 into his head : " Why, all this is very much 
 like the Phainsees f' It was too true. He 
 said over the words, " Who can understand 
 his errors r' '"Ah," said he to himself, "I
 
 EESOLUTIONS AXD EEFOEMATION. 2j 
 
 am afraid I have not got rid of the ' secret 
 faults' yet." He felt that he was proud. 
 Perhaps this is what is called self-righteous- 
 ness. Such were his thoughts, and so far 
 they were undoubtedly right 
 
 When he came to his room, the opening of 
 the door awakened his two companions, who 
 were not at all pleased with the interruption. 
 Ned turned over with some violence, and gave 
 Frank a very hard name. This did not please 
 him, especially as he was more exalted in his 
 own opinion than usual; he therefore replied, 
 in a tone which immediately struck him as 
 not being exactly proper. Ned was now dis- 
 pleased in his turn, and they were soon en- 
 gaged in a boyish quarrel. 
 
 " You are a pretty fellow,'* said Ned-, '•' to 
 be out till this hour of the night, and then to 
 come stamping in, waking up those that are 
 trying to sleep." 
 
 Frank was nettled, but he commanded him- 
 self enough to reply ; " Now, Ned, you know 
 very well that I have not been out of doors 
 to-night." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! A pretty story, indeed ! How 
 do I know but you have been spending an
 
 26 FKANK HAEPEE. 
 
 hour at the theatre, or may be at the watch- 
 house ? Eh 1 Master Parson/' 
 
 This was rather more than Frank could 
 bear. " You should not say it, any how. 
 Did you not persuade me? Did you not 
 almost force me there? And then did you 
 not leave me in the lurch ? I can tell you 
 one thing — I am never going again ; and I 
 can tell you another thing — wherever I go, 
 I will go with my own money."' 
 
 This was a home-thrust, for Ned had, only 
 that very day, purloined a shilling from his 
 employers, and his evil conscience made him 
 feel as if he had been found out. So he flew 
 out of the bed, knocked the lamp out of 
 Frank's hand, and seized him by the col- 
 lar. There is no telling what might, have 
 been the result, as the little country boy was 
 very resolute and very angry; but Joe had 
 waked up, in the meantime, and being 
 stronger than either, pulled them apart, say- 
 ing, " Let him alone, Ned ; you know we have 
 got him into one scrape already ; and, what is 
 more, the less you have to do with him the 
 better." 
 
 It was long before Frank could compose 
 himseK for sleep. He had sunk in his own
 
 EESOLUnONS AND EEFOEMATIOK 27 
 
 estimation. He had flown into a passion, 
 and had been almost engaged in a fight. And 
 this had happened to him on the very day 
 when he had made such good resolutions ! 
 Yet he did not see the whole' evil. He felt 
 ashamed and sorry for these particular faults, 
 which many persons would think no faults 
 at all ; but he did not clearly perceive that the 
 root of the evil was within. If the temptation 
 had come upon him in another shape, it is 
 likely he would have fallen in a different man- 
 ner. The source of all was an evil nature, 
 and an unregenerate heart, which would have 
 led him to the greatest sins, but for the pre- 
 venting grace of God. 
 
 The next day Frank was unhappy. He 
 felt humbled in his own eyes. His companions 
 would not speak to him; but this did not 
 trouble him half so much as his own sense of 
 something wrong within. " How strange ! " 
 said he to himself, " that just at the time when 
 I was trying to be so good, I should break 
 out into such tempers, and even go to bed 
 without a thought of prayer." 
 
 In one of the upper lofts of the warehouse, 
 there was a dark corner where the porter, a 
 man of colour, used to keep an old Bible.
 
 2-8 FEANK HARPER. 
 
 Frank sometimes saw him sitting there on a 
 box, or a bale of goods, with a pair of rusty 
 spectacles, trying to spell out a few verses. 
 Cato was a poor reader ; and this made Frank 
 sometimes take the book, and read aloud to 
 him. On the day we are speaking of, he 
 found the old man at his usual task. He was 
 puzzling over the seventh chapter of Romans. 
 Frank very kindly took the book, and soon 
 came to these words: ''For the good that I 
 would, I do not; hut the evil which Lwould 
 not, that I do'' 
 
 "Do you know what that means?" said 
 Frank 
 
 ''Yes, indeed, sir," answered the old man; 
 "I understand it too well: and if you ever 
 undertake to be good, in your own strength, 
 you will know what it means, too." 
 
 These few words of the coloured porter 
 5ui]k into his mind. This was an. exact de- 
 scription of his own case. He had been un- 
 dertaking to he good in his own strength; and 
 he had learned his own weakness; and found 
 out that a resolution is a very different thing 
 from a reformation.
 
 SOLITUDE IN A CEOWD. 29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SOLITUDE IN A CROWD. 
 
 Do you think anybody can feel lonely in 
 such a city as New York, where there are 
 hundreds and thousands of people ? Yes, it 
 is possible; and our Frank felt it to be his 
 own ca.se, as many a countiy boy has " done 
 before him. He met hundreds after hundreds 
 in the streets ; almost always looking brisk 
 and animated, and often conversing and seem- 
 ing happy. But as for him, he was alone. 
 No one cared for him ; scarcely anyone spoke 
 to him. His employers never said a word to 
 him, except to give him orders. It was the 
 same with the elder clerks. The younger 
 lads held their heads too high to have much 
 to do with him ; and their profane language 
 made him willing to avoid them. At his 
 lodorinscs he found no one who took the least 
 interest in him. 
 
 It is one of the great evils of our city busi- 
 ness, that the young men who are employed 
 in warehouses and shops cannot be said
 
 30 FRANK HARPER 
 
 have any home, except in cases where they 
 live "with their parents. Where shall a poor 
 boy go, when work is over? To the ware- 
 house? It is locked up. To the house of 
 his employer? He would as soon think of 
 going to the house of the Mayor. To his 
 boarding-house parlour? He is not expected 
 there, and would often find no welcome. To 
 his own chamber? It is small, dark, and 
 cold. In truth, he has no home ! And hence 
 the temptation is so much the greater to 
 spend the evenings in bad places. 
 
 Frank felt all this ; and often did he think 
 how different it was at Coventry. Father, 
 mother, and sisters, were all gathered around 
 the fire; neighbours were dropping in; good 
 things were served round; there were kind 
 looks, and gentle words. Oh, let no boy 
 desire to leave his father's house, until called 
 away by a plain duty ! 
 
 One evening Frank felt the need of a walk, 
 so he put on his coat, and proceeded up 
 Broadway. This crowded street was brilliant 
 with gas. The shop windows were far more 
 showy than by day, and the multitude of per- 
 sons was greater. Now and then, he would 
 stop before a brighter lamp than usual; it was
 
 SOLITUDE m A CEOTVD. 31 
 
 at some oyster saloon, refectory, bowKng-gal- 
 lery, or cafd These are the names given to 
 various grog-shops. They are well lighted 
 and well warmed, and hold out a powerful 
 inducement to the shivering, the lonely, and 
 the sad. But those who go there to drink 
 away their sorrows are almost sure to perish, 
 soul and body. Frank passed by. 
 
 Next he came to Park Eow, and stood 
 before the theatre. The row of lamps was 
 bright. He could catch the sounds of fine 
 music. Gay-looking people were going in or 
 coming out. A crowd of boys surrounded 
 the entrance^ eager to be admitted, and cla- 
 mouring for checks. Frank remembered the 
 great posting bills which had told of the 
 wonders to be seen and heard ; but he passed 
 on, feeling very solitary. 
 
 As he went further and further, he found 
 the grog-shops more numerous, the windows 
 less rich, the houses poorer, and the liquora 
 more publicly displayed. At open doors he 
 could hear the sound of merriment within. 
 He saw boys of his own age coming out of 
 these shining rooms, full of gaiety, and knew 
 how easy it would be to go in himself 
 parents 1 who send tender youth to cities, can
 
 32 FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 ye wonder that they fall into these snares! 
 Prank felt very, very lonesome ; but he 
 passed on. 
 
 Weary of rambling, he at length turned to 
 go home. A poor ragged boy offered him a 
 small box, saying, " Three for a halfpenny — 
 matches — please buy — please buy — I am 
 hungry." " Other people are in trouble, be- 
 sides me," thought Frank. He declined buy- 
 ing, and the child gave him a volley of curses. 
 It shocked the country boy to hear such 
 words, and made him even more afraid than 
 before to make street acquaiiitauces. 
 
 Old Gate once said to him, " Mr Frank, 
 what is the reason that I never see you with 
 any playmates?" 
 
 "I have no playmates, Cato. I' used to 
 have plenty of them in the country, but 1 am 
 a stranger here." 
 
 "Have you got no friends?" 
 
 " Not any here, Cato. I have a good father, 
 and mother, and sisters, in Coventry." 
 
 *' Then you are poorer than I am. "When 
 I go to my poor house at night, I find a wel- 
 come. The stove is hot, and something is 
 cooking on it. There I find my ' old woman' 
 and three daughters. My boys come in during
 
 SOLITUDE IN A CLOWD. 83 
 
 the evening, and we have a dozen of friends 
 looking in. We are all glad to see one an- 
 other. I could not live without friends." 
 
 "Yes, Cato, you have a home; but I am a 
 stranger." 
 
 "I often wonder," said Cato, "why the 
 rich gentlemen don't do something to keep 
 the young men out of mischief in the even- 
 ings. Boys are boys, they will have com- 
 pany. If they are not cheerful in some good 
 place, they will go to some bad one. I won- 
 der if masters will not have to answer for this 
 to the Master of all." 
 
 To this Frank made no reply, for he thought 
 as Cato did, and his mind was wandering 
 away to his father's house, and the delightful 
 winter evenings which he had spent there. 
 
 As he was entering Dey Street, on his 
 return to tea, he met Ned and Joe, with a 
 gang of about a dozen boys and men, very 
 loud and merry. *'Come, Frank," cried he, 
 " come. There is to be a great poultry raffle 
 in Leonard Street." This is a sort of lottery, 
 in which the prizes are turkeys, ducks, and 
 chickens; but the chief attraction is the 
 liquor, which is given very freely. 
 
 Frank could not help thinking that it
 
 34 FEANK HARPER. 
 
 better to be lonely tban fo make merry in 
 such company as this. He ascended to his 
 room, lighted his bit of candle with a match, 
 wrapped a blanket around him, and proceeded 
 to read in Pilgrims Progress — the only book 
 which he possessed besides the Bible. 
 
 If the reader of these pages should ever 
 become the employer of young men, I hope 
 he will take pity upon those who are under 
 his care, and at least find out what means 
 they have of passing away their evening 
 hours. 
 
 The circus, the theatre, the low concert, 
 draw multitudes night after night. These 
 persons afterwards become ripe for crimes. 
 Boys in town, who have no one to look after 
 them, are early tempted to such places. But 
 if they love their own souls, they should 
 resolve to avoid them, lest they be drawn into 
 greater depths of iniquity. The nearest gro- 
 cery to my house was robbed the other night 
 by a boy in the shop, who rifled the money 
 drawer. When the police were called in, 
 they said at once, " He is probably at the 
 circus;" and there, indeed, he was, as they 
 found in the course of half an hour.
 
 THE VISIT. ^. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE VISIT. 
 
 Now, it is very likely (as I have said a good 
 deal about religion, and about the bad ways 
 of towns) that some of my readers think I 
 am a sour old fellow, that would keep young 
 people from every amusement. By no means, 
 my young friends. You must have amuse- 
 ment of some kind or other ; and it is because 
 there are so many tempting and evil enter- 
 tainments, that I so earnestly desire that an 
 effort should be made in our cities to furnish 
 you with such as are harmless. 
 
 Frank was srowinor too dull for a lad of 
 his years. He felt the need of companions, 
 and thought much of his sisters and cousins. 
 
 One morning Mr Buncombe stopped Frank, 
 as he was on the stairs, and said to him, 
 *• My lad, how would you like to spend a day 
 at your father's?" Frank's heart leaped 
 within him. Forgetting the dignity of ^Mr 
 Buncombe, he seized his hand, and said, ''0,
 
 36 FEAXK HARPER. 
 
 sir, it would be too good ! I should thank 
 j'ou for ever ! But can I go ? When shall I 
 go?" " Next Thursday," replied his employer, 
 " is Thanksgiving-day, and we have to close 
 the warehouse. You may get ready to go the 
 evening before ; but, mind, you are to be here 
 by ten o'clock on Friday, not a moment lat-er. 
 Do you see this watch? Not a moment later. 
 Remember, Friday at ten." ^' 0, yes, sir — yes, 
 sir — Friday at t^n," — said the poor boy, 
 scarcely knowing what he said. 
 
 It was as if a burden had been lift-ed off 
 his young heart. You may be sure he 
 counted the days and hours, until the happy 
 moment. He was fluttering with fear lest 
 something should turn up to hinder it He 
 counted up his little hoard of money in his 
 pocket-book- Part of this he laid aside to 
 pay his passage, the rest he appropriated to 
 gifts for those at home. The first spare 
 evening he spent in making purchases ; and 
 how he turned them over in his lonely garret ! 
 First, there was a large-print New Testament, 
 with Psalms at the end, for his dear mother. 
 Secondly, there was an ivory-headed cane, for 
 his dear father. Thirdly, there was a box of 
 colours for his sister Mary. Fourthly, there
 
 THE VISIT. 37 
 
 wa3 a gilt inkstand for his sister Ann. And 
 fifthly, there was an ornamented powder- 
 horn for Jonathan, who worked on the farm. 
 His heart was very much engaged in this, 
 and the feeling was good and praiseworthy. 
 
 When Tuesday night came, his red trunk 
 was all packed, except the change of clothing 
 which he was to wear, and he had been twice 
 to the railway office, to be sure of the right 
 place of starting. But he got scarcely a wink 
 of sleep, and when he dozed a little, he was 
 far away in Coventry. 
 
 At length the happy Wednesday dawned, 
 and his first thought was that he should sleep 
 that night under his father's roof He ate 
 little at the table, so that the landlady smiled, 
 and told him he was journey-proud. Several 
 times he made sad mistakes in his errands; 
 for, poor fellow! his thoughts were in the 
 country. A full hour before the time, he 
 sallied out with his coat, umbrella, and bag, 
 and the cane for his father, and was at the 
 foot of Liberty Street before the ticket-office 
 was open. He looked with a sort of grati- 
 tude on the whiskered man who gave him his 
 ticket, and rushed on to the ferry-boat, as if 
 he was afraid it would be off before him. He
 
 SS FEANK HAEPER 
 
 was soon in the train the locomotive whizzed 
 and smoked, and the train began to move. 
 It seemed to him to move slowly, though 
 they were going almost twenty miles an 
 hour. 
 
 Darkness came on, and when they arrived 
 at the place where he was to get out, the 
 moon and stars were shining brightly. He 
 alighted, and looked about him. He knew 
 that he was exj^ected. Presently he heard a 
 familiar sound ; it was the snort of old Roan, 
 the family horse ; and then he knew the creak 
 of the wheels, as the little wagon drove rapidly 
 round. His heart went pit-a-pat. With a 
 husky voice, he said, "Who is it?" and in a 
 moment he was in his father's arms. " Come, 
 my son," said the old man, " let me look at 
 you once more !" and he held his ruddy face 
 in the light of the window. " Come, in with 
 your bag — we have four miles to drive, yon 
 know — and your mother and the girls are 
 waiting for you," 
 
 Frank seated himself, and gently took the 
 reins out of his father's hand. It was his old 
 place, and it had been long since he had 
 handled the " lines." He knew every foot of 
 the road, by day or night; and old Roan
 
 THE VISIT. 39 
 
 pricked up his ears at the well-known voice, 
 and trotted off like a colt. 
 
 " There," said Frank, '' there is Mr Frost's 
 house — I see the light in their sitting-room. 
 And there is the old mill — and yonder is 
 the school-house. And see ! the moon is 
 shining on the steeple of our church ! And 
 oh, there is our own lane — and the cherry- 
 trees — and Towzer — I hear his bark ! " 
 
 True enough, there was the lane, and there 
 was Towzer, who almost stifled the boy, as he 
 jumped down to open the gate. As soon as 
 the sound of the wheels was heard, the door 
 flew open, and out bounded two rosy-cheeked 
 girls, who threw their arms around his neck. 
 " Brother, brother ! " was all they could say ; 
 but it was enough. In the door stood his 
 gentle mother, trembling, with more than her 
 lips could express. For an instant she held 
 him off, gazing into his face, and then folded 
 him to her bosom, whispering, '' Thanks be to 
 God!" 
 
 If there is a happy sight on earth, it is that 
 of a loving family, united after separation. 
 The large fire-place was piled with logs, which 
 filled the room with their blaze. The circle 
 was formed, and a thousand questions were
 
 40 FEA>'^ HARPER. 
 
 asked Towzer lay upon the hearth, and 
 looked in his young master s face. Impatient 
 TO open hLs stores, the red bag was unlocked, 
 and Frank distributed his gifts. They were 
 received with admiration and thanks. Jona- 
 than came in, and shook him some seconds 
 by the hand. Then, restless with joy, Frank 
 must needs go into every room in the house, 
 and afterwards out of doors, to see whether 
 the bam and the dairy stood in their oil 
 places. 
 
 The supper-table was spread. The good 
 father asked God's blessing. Frank praised 
 the home-made bread, the milk, the presen-es, 
 and declared he had never sat at such a table 
 in New York. Once again they all kneeled 
 in family prayer ; and when the grateful boy 
 went to his well-remembered bed, he thought 
 it was the happiest day of all his life. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 TEXyKSGIVTSG-DXY. 
 
 It is the custom, in some ports of the coun- 
 try, for all the members of a family to com?
 
 THANKSGIYING-DAT. 41 
 
 together on Thanksgiving-day; and a very 
 good custom it is. It serves to draw the 
 bonds more closely between parents and chil- 
 dren, brothers and sisters. This makes it a 
 delightful day for many a youth, who is 
 absent from his father's house all the rest of 
 the year. So it was with Frank. After a 
 night of sound sleep, he arose in the morning, 
 refreshed and cheerful By daylight, he 
 could now look around on the familiar objects 
 which had escaped him in the darkness. All 
 gave him pleasure. He looked with satisfac- 
 tion at the horses, the cattle, the flock of 
 sheep, and the very fowls in the yard, which 
 he used to feed There was not a thing 
 inside or outside of the house which did not 
 bring up pleasant recollections. But most of 
 all was he happy in the presence of his dear 
 parents and sisters ; and he saw his own joy 
 reflected in their countenances. When all 
 were summoned to morning prayers, he 
 almost wept at the sight of the old family 
 Bible and psalm-book ; and when they kneeled 
 in prayer, and he heard his aged father give 
 thanks for the return of the only son, Frank 
 could no longer contain himself. 
 
 We need not inquire minutely into the
 
 42 FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 country breakfast to which they sat down. 
 Suffice it to say, it was bountiful, and Prank 
 could not have been more happy if he had 
 been a king. Of course they all went to the 
 village church, to hear a sermon from Mr 
 Miller. It 'was a plain building of stone, 
 bout a hundred years old ; but it was dear 
 io Frank, for there he had been used to go 
 ever since his infancy, and near it his grand- 
 parents were buried. There was great look- 
 ing round among the people, to see who of the 
 young folks had come home to spend thanks- 
 giving ; and when the service was over, it 
 seemed as if there would be no end to the 
 shaking of hands and asking of questions. 
 Friends of his father, and old playmates 
 gathered around Frank, and it was a full 
 half hour before he could mount his pony for 
 a return. 
 
 Tlie company was now increased and the 
 house was fulL Four or five carriages and 
 wagons drove into the lane at once, besides 
 several persons on foot. There was uncle 
 Joshua Harper, and the three aunts, sisters of 
 his mother. There were several cousins, who 
 came because their own parents were dead, 
 and they had found a friend in farmer Ear-
 
 THANKSGIVING -DAT. 43 
 
 per. There was the schoolmaster, Mr Tree, 
 who had no friends of his own. And there 
 was Mr Millar, the clergyman ; who, being 
 unmarried, was invited home to Mr Harper's. 
 The fires were large, crackling, and blazing. 
 All were in their best clothes and best tem- 
 per; and, as there was no constraint, the 
 company was full of innocent glee. 
 
 Frank had a great desire to talk wiih his 
 father about his religious anxieties. He there- 
 fore followed him to the stable, where he 
 went to see after the dumb creatures. It is 
 not unlikely that the old gentleman kept at 
 this work longer than he would otherwise 
 have done, in order to converse with his 
 boy. But Frank's mouth was sealed on the 
 great subject. Eeverence for his father, joined 
 to natural bashfulness, kept him from saying 
 any of the things he had intended. Mr 
 Harper gave his son much good advice. 
 Frank, in his turn, related the whole affair 
 of the theatre and the watch-house. His 
 father did what every good parent would do 
 in a like case ; he expressed his sorrow for the 
 act, but he commended the candour of the 
 confession. And, in reply to Frank's com- 
 plamts about solitude, his father told him
 
 44 FKANK HAErER. 
 
 that the best of all society was Christian 
 society, and that he must try to gain the 
 advantage of this. He therefore earnestly 
 recommended to him to attach himself to some 
 Sunday-school, without delay. 
 
 A Thanksgiving dinner in the country 13 
 no slight affair. ]\Iy readers will not expect 
 from rae an account of the turkeys, the hams, 
 the pumpkin-pies, tlie puddings, and the cus- 
 tards, under which the table groaned- One 
 thing is certain, Mrs Harper and the girls 
 had thought more of Frank, in their prepara- 
 tions, than of all the other guests. Several 
 poor persons were waiting in the kitchen for 
 tlieir accustomed alms, and went away fully 
 laden. 
 
 Then came the long afternoon and evening, 
 around the noble wood-fire; when cheerful- 
 ness and friendship were mingled witli reli- 
 gious communion and grateful praise. The 
 crowded assemblies of the rich and great can 
 shew nothing equal to such a scene ; and 
 there are a thousand such on every general 
 Tbanks2:ivinc:-dav. The schoolmaster was also 
 a singingmaster, and had brought his bass- 
 viol; and though the girls had no piano-forte, 
 several of them had sweet v^^ices. The mini^-
 
 THANKSGIVIXG-DAT. 45 
 
 ter and uncle Joshua had fine bass voices, and 
 Frank (though somewhat out of practice) re- 
 sumed the tenor of his earlier days. Alto- 
 gether it was a fine concert ; and the auditors, 
 who were at the same time performers, had 
 quite as much enjoyment as the fine gentle- 
 men and ladies who pay their crown to hear 
 a foreign fiddler or a brace of painted ma- 
 dames. 
 
 Mary and Anne learned more about New 
 York and its ways, that evening, than they 
 had ever dreamed of before : their brother 
 was now a great authority in their eyes ; and 
 they listened with wonder to what he told 
 them about the shipping, the steamers, the 
 immense stores, the churches, the museums, 
 the fountains, the Croton-water, the fires, and 
 the processions. To tell the truth, the girls 
 were really all alive with desire to "go 
 a- shopping " in Broadway. But ah ! how many 
 are there, who lament, when it is too late, that 
 they ever trod the streets of a great city ! 
 
 During a pause in the conversation, Frank 
 became very pensive, and at length followed 
 his mother into the little back-room, where 
 she had taught him so many lessons before. 
 Anticipating his wish (as mothers do), Mrs
 
 4€ FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 Hdrper seated herself, and Frank did the 
 same. There was something on his mind- 
 He looked into his mother's eyes, and then 
 upon the floor. 
 
 " Why, my son,'' said Mrs Harper, " what 
 ails you ? See ! You have torn to pieces the 
 beautiful daily rose, which Anne just now 
 gave you." 
 
 Frank looked at the poor remains of the 
 flower, as it hung from his fingers, and said, 
 " 1 am very sorry; but mother, I was think- 
 ing of something else." 
 
 " Come then, my boy, and tell me what it 
 is. I am afraid they do not treat you well in 
 New York You are more serious than you 
 used to be. Is there anything of this sort to 
 trouble you ?" 
 
 "No, mother; but there is something I 
 want to speak to you about." 
 
 " Then, my son, speak freely ; you know I 
 will help you in every way I can. Have you 
 got into any debt, or into any quarrel ?" 
 
 " Oh no ! " said Frank, laying his head on 
 his mother's shoulder ; I tried to tell father 
 but I could not; but I can tell you, mother. 
 I am in trouble about what will become of 
 my soul.''
 
 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 4? 
 
 Mrs Harper was overcome with her emo- 
 tions. She wiped away Frank's tears, while 
 shedding many of her own. She advised 
 him, she prayed with him, and before he 
 went away she gave him two or three books 
 and some tracts, and also procured a letter 
 from Mr Miller, to introduce him to a worthy 
 clergyman. It was a new cause of thanks- 
 giving for this pious mother, on that day of 
 rejoicing ; and it was an unspeakable relief to 
 the dutiful son, that he had opened his mind 
 to one who loved him so well. 
 
 The happiest day must come to an end; 
 and so it was with this one. The company 
 separated, and though the snow had been 
 falling for several hours, they went their dif- 
 ferent ways with much animation. 
 
 Not to stop for the painful farewell, let me 
 say, that Frank was up long before day on 
 Friday. His good father took him to a place 
 in the road where he could enter the New 
 Brunswick railway train ; and, five minutes 
 before ten, he reported himself to Mr Bun- 
 combe, in John Street. The absence had 
 done hira good, and he felt stronger, both for 
 labour and endurance, than before he went.
 
 48 FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF GOD. 
 
 The bc4Is were ringing for church on Sunday 
 morning. The new chime of Trinity Church 
 steeple was filling the air with its tune. 
 Broadway, the great thoroughfare, was crowded 
 with well-dressed people, who seemed to be 
 going to church. Among these Frank mingled, 
 with his book under his arm, and a letter in 
 his hand, which he was to deliver to the Rev. 
 Mr Halsted- At length, he reached Locust 
 Street, and found himself in front of the 
 church to which he had been directed. It 
 was a lofty edifice of brown stone, with a row 
 of columns in front, and a steeple of some 
 height. The congregation had not yet begun 
 to assemble, but he perceived that a large 
 building in the rear was resorted to, by a 
 number of persons. Frank ascended the 
 steps, and addressed himself to a grave elderly 
 gentleman, who was standing in the doorway. 
 " Will you be so good as to tell me, sir, how
 
 THE HOUSE OF GOD. 49 
 
 I shall find Mr Halsted, the minister of this 
 church?" 
 
 "Nothing is more easy," replied the old 
 gentleman, with a gracious smile, " I am the 
 very person you are looldng for." 
 
 "Indeed, sir! Then I have a letter for 
 you, from Mr Miller of Coventry." Mr Hal- 
 sted read the letter, and then taking Frank 
 by the hand, led him into the church. He 
 then called the sexton, and directed him to 
 give Frank a seat, and to see that he wa3 
 always provided with it. "I expect to see 
 you here always — twice a day, my young 
 friend ; you know the saying, ' the rolling 
 stone gathers no moss/ I expect you to be 
 here in time. And I expect to see you at 
 my house, next Wednesday evening, at eight 
 o'clock, when I hope to become further 
 acquainted with you." 
 
 Frank's seat was in the gallery, near the 
 pulpit, so that he had a good view of tlie con- 
 gi'egation as they came in. They seemed, for 
 the most part, to be plain but respectable 
 people. Wlien the service began, and the 
 whole assembly joined in singing the hymn, 
 Frank was delighted, and united his own 
 voice with that of the multitude. lu tho 
 
 D
 
 60 FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 prayers his mind was very nmcli engaged; 
 they appeared to be exactly suited to his case. 
 When the minister rose to preach, he took for 
 his text these words, " Walk in the Spirit, 
 and ye shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh!* 
 It was a simple but earnest discourse, on the 
 power of the Holy Spirit to subdue the evil 
 nature within us. Every word seemed to 
 Frank as if it were meant for liim. He won- 
 dered how Mr Halsted could have learned so 
 much of his case. The preacher described 
 just such feelings as he had had; just such 
 , efforts at reformation ; and just such morti- 
 fying defeats. It was Frank's experience to a 
 tittle. But he went on further to describe 
 what Frank had not experienced. He spoke 
 of a new nature ; of the indwelling of the 
 Spirit of God in the renewed soul ; of grace to 
 help in time of need; and of the work of 
 sanctification. He explained what was meant 
 by ''walking in the Spirit/' and shewed how 
 this blessed Comforter and Sanctifier is given 
 to every one of God's people, enabling them to 
 do what they could not do of themselves. " I 
 see," said Frank to himself, " that I have a 
 great deal yet to leam. This new nature is 
 what I have not received."
 
 THE HOUSE OF GOD. 51 
 
 As he walked homeward, his anxiety ap- 
 peared to him to be much renewed; yet he 
 felt an unspeakable satisfaction in having a 
 place of worship to which he could regularly 
 go. He repaired thither again in the after- 
 noon, and was again instructed, so that he 
 could say of God's house, " A day in thy 
 courts is better than a thousand." In return- 
 ing, he chose to walk homeward along the 
 North River. How was he astonished to see 
 the multitudes of young men and boys who 
 were profaning the day. Scores of these 
 were out riding; and, cold as was the day, 
 numbers were crossing the ferries to New 
 Jersey. Can such youths have any parents ? 
 Or can parents be so unfeeling, or so igno- 
 rant, as to let their sons come to town, with- 
 out taking any care about their going to 
 church? 
 
 Every young man in a city shoidd ham 
 some stated place of worship. It Is not 
 enough that he go to church; he should go 
 regularly to the same church. I do not say 
 a word about its denomination. If the gospel 
 is preaiched there in truth and simplicity, I 
 am not concerned by what name they are 
 called, only let him have some place which hd
 
 52 FPwANK HARPER. 
 
 may call his own, and let him have his regular 
 seat there. 
 
 A very large number of all the clerks and 
 apprentices in New York are from the coun- 
 try. When they come to town they are 
 strangers, and one church is to them the same 
 as another. They wander about from place to 
 place, until all regular habits are lost. I have 
 known even professors of religion to spend 
 months without forming any church connec- 
 tion ; and some mournful cases have occurred, 
 in which such persons have abandoned reli- 
 gion altogether. 
 
 One thing was very pleasing to Frank at 
 the Locust Street church. A large part of the 
 gallery was devoted to the children of the 
 Sunday school, all of whom sat with their 
 respective teachers. And among these teach- 
 ers he saw a young man, who, he felt almost 
 sure, was the very Mr Brooks who had given 
 him a tract at the foot of Chambers Street. 
 This may seem a small matter, but to a poor 
 boy who wanted a friend, anything was de- 
 lightful which offered the hope of finding one. 
 Young men in to^vn can have no such means 
 of making valuable friends as those which are 
 offered by their religious connections.
 
 HOUSE OF GOD. 53 
 
 Frank determined to use all proper means 
 to discover Mr Brooks. He ransacked Lis 
 closet for the tract, on which he had written 
 his place of business. At last he found it, 
 and with much joy read the words, 
 
 B. B. BROOKS, 
 
 NO. 220 CASTLE STEEET. 
 
 Now this, thought Frank, is what I may call 
 a kind providence. For when Mr Miller di- 
 rected me to Locust vStreet, I had no remem- 
 brance that Mr Brooks was a teacher in their 
 Sunday-schooL 
 
 The Lord's-day is a very sad time when 
 spent among wicked people. So Frank found 
 it at Mrs Moggs's. Two of her lodgers 
 were Germans^ who seemed to be infidels, 
 and who played on violins a good part of the 
 day ; and in the evening a whist-table was 
 commonly set out. They appeared to suspect 
 Frank of something like religion, for in his 
 presence they always talked a great deal about 
 ''saints," and "hypocrisy," and questioned
 
 S4 FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 him concerning the church he attended. All 
 this made him only the more sensible of his 
 solitary condition, and caused him to long 
 the more for some useful and Christian com- 
 panion. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 
 
 It was several days before Frank found 
 leisure to pass through Castle Street. At last 
 he made his way thither, and was much gra- 
 tified to find Mr Brooks in his shop. . 
 
 " Perhaps, sir," said Frank, " you do not 
 remember me : I am the boy to whom you 
 gave a tract, some time ago, at the foot of 
 Chambers Street." 
 
 "0 yes," said Mr Brooks; "and I thought 
 I had met with you before, when I saw you 
 last Sunday ; for I spied you in the gallery ; 
 but was so busy vith my boys that I could 
 not look after you. But how did you come 
 to om' church ?"
 
 THE SUNDAY-feOHOOL. 55 
 
 Frank. I had a letter to Mr Halstead, from 
 our minister in the country — at Coventry. 
 
 Brooks, Ah, then you are one of Mr Mil- 
 ler's boys. We know him well He was bred 
 among us, and was once our superinten- 
 dent. Now tell me_, what brought you to 
 me? 
 
 Frank. Sir, I liked your looks. You spoke 
 kindly to me; and you seemed to care for 
 me. Nobody else has done the like for me 
 here. 
 
 A tear glistened in Mr Brooks's eye, as he 
 took the boy by the hand, and said, " What 
 friends have you in town V 
 
 Frank. I have no friends but my employers ; 
 and I never see them out of the warehouse. 
 
 Brooks. Then you shall have one friend — 
 and I give you my hand upon it. You might 
 have gone to ruin ; it is a mercy that you have 
 not. Let me know your lodgings, and let me 
 see you as often as you can. Perhaps you 
 would like to be a teacher in our Sunday- 
 schooL 
 
 Frank blushed and said, " Not a teacher, 
 si]f5 I know better than that; but I should 
 like well to be a scholar."
 
 56 FE^VNK HAEPER, 
 
 "Then a scholar you shall be; and next 
 Sunday, at eight o'clock, I will call for you ; 
 remember — for Sabbath time is more precious 
 than gold— eight o'clock'' 
 
 The Sabbath came round, and Frank was 
 sitting in the little parlour, patiently a^Taiting 
 his friend's call When ]\Ir Brooks entered 
 he looked quite startled, for Ned and Joe were 
 engaged in mending a pair of skates, and ]\Ir 
 Neidert was rendering the same sen^ice to 
 some disabled chess-men ; wliile one or two 
 champagne-baskets, in the corner, bore wit- 
 ness to the habits of some of the inmates. 
 They left the house together. 
 
 " And this is your boarding-house, Frank ?" 
 
 -Yes, sir." 
 
 *' And this is the way they spend the Lord's 
 day!" 
 
 "A good deal too much of this, I must 
 confess." 
 
 "And who directed you to the place?" 
 
 Frank. Why, you see, sir, my father had 
 no acquaintances in town, so he went to Mr 
 Bubble, who keeps a tavern in our village, 
 and Mr Bubble directed him to a brother-in- 
 law of his, in Washington Market, and 
 last one brouoht me here.
 
 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 57 
 
 Brooks. Ah, I see how it is ! Thus it is 
 that hundreds of young men come in fiom 
 the country, and are ruined for want of pro- 
 per guardianship. But this must have an 
 end — you cannot live here any longer. 
 
 Frank. Why, sir, where can I live ? 
 
 Brooks. You shall live with me, at a re- 
 spectable, economical boarding-house, down 
 town ; so I advise you to make your arrange- 
 ments immediately. 
 
 Though Frank did not know it, this was 
 one of the most important steps which had 
 ever been proposed to him. Little as he 
 knew of his danger, however, he was over- 
 joyed at the thought of escaping from such 
 evils, and of being near such a friend. Would 
 to God, that all pious young men, in cities, 
 were awake to the importance of rescuing the 
 youth around them from evil associations. 
 
 Arrived at the Sunday-school, Frank was 
 surprised and astonished to find three large 
 rooms filled with scholars. Mr Brooks mo- 
 destly said that lie did not think he was able 
 to teach Frank so well as his friend Mr 
 Bood, who had a more advanced class. So 
 Frank was placed under the care of this gen- 
 tleman, by whom he was kindly received, and
 
 58 FEANK HAEPEK. 
 
 furnished with all the necessary books. The 
 time passed away pleasantly, and he was 
 sorry when the hour was over. 
 
 In the course of a few days Frank took his 
 departure from Mrs Moggs's, and went to 
 his new lodgings. They were new indeed ! 
 For though he still had an attic room, he had 
 it aU to himself He had a washstand, a chest 
 of drawers, and a hanojinsj-shelf. The land- 
 lady was a pious widow, and the lodgers 
 were all serious persons. The blessing of God 
 was asked at their meals, and they had family 
 prayer morning and night. Above all, he 
 had in Mr Brooks, a judicious, experienced, 
 and aflectionate friend, to whom he could look 
 up as to an elder brother. He had no sooner 
 found himself alone in his little chamber, than 
 he kneeled down, to thank God for this great 
 and imexpected mercy. 
 
 Let the reader pause and think how much 
 good he might do, by seeking out some friend- 
 less lad, and rescuing him from the tempta- 
 tions of a great city. For a youth away from 
 home to find such a friend is better than to 
 receive an inheritance of wealth. And let 
 it be remembered, it is religion which in- 
 spires such benevolence, and makes such
 
 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 59 
 
 friends. If, therefore, any youth in town 
 is led to feel his need of such a guide and 
 protector, the best and shortest rule I can 
 give him is in these words : Hasten to conr- 
 nect yourself with a good Sunday-school. 
 
 Frank found the school a source of con- 
 stant pleasure. It gave occupation to his 
 mind. The lessons were not usually hard; 
 and when he met with any difficulty, he had 
 Mr Brooks in the house to aid him, who went 
 with him to the minister's, where he waa 
 always cordially welcomed. He became ac- 
 quainted with four respectable boys, who met 
 with him, in Mr Brooks's room, every Satur- 
 day evening. At the prayer-meetings he saw 
 himself surrounded by a company of youthful 
 Christians, every one of whom was ready to 
 take him by the hand. And, what was still 
 better, these new associations, and the lessons 
 which he received, tended to deepen those 
 religious impressions which he had already 
 received. Having been made to feel his own 
 ignorance and weakness, he opened his mind 
 to instruction with the simplicity of a little 
 child. It seemed almost too good to be true, 
 that a few days should have wrought so great 
 a change in his circumstances and his feel-
 
 60 FKAXK HAEPEE. 
 
 ings ; and he would have been perfectly happy 
 if he had not been conscious of a burden on 
 his soul which was not yet removed. He sat 
 down in Mr Brooks's room, where there was 
 a fire, and wrote a long letter to his father 
 and mother; in which he gave them a full 
 account of all that had taken place. 
 
 The next Sabbath was indeed a day of 
 rest. He longed for the hour of school ; and, 
 when there, he was calm and full of satisfac- 
 tion. He listened to the word of God with 
 new interest; and, at Mr Brooks's suggestion, 
 opened a little book, in which he might record 
 so much as he could recollect of the sermons. 
 How different a face would be put on our 
 cities, if all the young men from the country, 
 in shops and warehouses, were under a like 
 influence ! 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 EAELY TEIALS. 
 
 It is not the way of Providence to let any one 
 who is in the right way continue long ^Yith-
 
 EAELY TRIALS. 61 
 
 out trials. It was only a few weeks after the 
 events last related, that Frank was surprised 
 by a summons into the back-office, to meet 
 Messrs Boggs and Buncombe. Such a thing 
 had never happened before. These gentlemen 
 looked very grave, and Mr Boggs began the 
 conversation by saying: "What is this, my 
 lad, that we hear about your boarding- 
 house?" 
 
 Frank. Indeed, sir, I do not know what 
 you mean. 
 
 Mr Boggs, Don't you live at No. 411 Dey 
 Street? 
 
 Frank. No, sir. I did live there at first, 
 but I changed my lodgings more than a 
 month ago. 
 
 Mr Boggs looked at Mr Buncombe, and 
 said, vrith a smile, " This is better than I 
 thought. Look at that paper; you will see 
 that two men have been arrested at that 
 house for having entered several shops v/ith 
 false keys. They have been committed. Two 
 boys also — Denton and Briggs — are under 
 suspicion as a>ccomplices, but have been dis- 
 missed for want of sufficient evidence. We 
 were afraid they might be acquaintances of 
 yours."
 
 62 FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 " I know them,'* said Frank, "but I know 
 no good of them, and I have not laid eyes on 
 them since I left the house." 
 
 Many thoughts came into Frank's mind 
 on hearing this piece of news. He saw how 
 near he had been to the greatest snares. He 
 might at least have been involved in the most 
 mortifying suspicions, and he thanked God 
 that he had been rescued from such a peril 
 Now he began to understand the noises of 
 hammerinoj and filins:, which he used to hear 
 by day and night in !Mr Niedert's room, and 
 to see how Ned and Joe managed to be 
 always so flush of money. 
 
 About dusk he was returning from the 
 shop, when he was accosted by two young 
 men, just in front of old Grace Church; he 
 at once recognised them as his former cham- 
 ber-fellows. While he was doubting whether 
 he should stop or not, Joe seized him vio- 
 lently by the collar, and said, with a malig- 
 nant sneer, " So you have been peaching, you 
 young scoundrel — have you?" 
 
 " Perhaps I may answer you better," re- 
 plied Frank, nothing daunted, '' if you let me 
 loose, and if you tell me what peaching 
 means."
 
 EAELY TEIALS. 63 
 
 Joe here loosened his hold, and said, " Fool I 
 peaching means that, and that, and that;'* at 
 the same time striking him with his fist ; while 
 Frank defended himself as well as he could. 
 
 Frank was now in difficult circumstances ; he 
 was no coward, and he was remarkably stout 
 of his age. Against either of them, singly, 
 he knew he could make very good battle, but 
 two against one was foul play. Besides, he 
 abhorred the thought of a street-fight; and, 
 more than all, he saw no reason why he 
 should beat and injure them, even if they had 
 abused him. 
 
 "You are a sneaking informer!'' cried Ned 
 Briggs, " we Imow well enough who has put 
 the police on the scent, but you'll find it was 
 the worst day's work you ever did, when you 
 carried tales against us." 
 
 Here Frank began to understand that they 
 ascribed their detection to something which 
 he had said, and he declared, with great truth, 
 that he had known nothing about the matter 
 imtil within a few hours. 
 
 Here he was interrupted by language 
 which need not be repeated. Ned threw off 
 his coat, and dared him to a fight. Frank 
 felt the blood rush to his face, and was within
 
 64 FKANK HAEPER. 
 
 an ace of accepting the challenge. A crowd 
 was already gathered, among whom were 
 several persons who were ready to help on the 
 mischief, After looking his opposer steadily 
 in the eyes, Frank bit his lip, and said, " You 
 have attacked me for nothing — I have done 
 you no harm. If you touch me, I shall de- 
 fend myself — but you shan't get me into a 
 fight, so I mean to go quietly home." 
 
 As he turned away, the boys cried out, 
 "Coward — coward!" and several of the by- 
 standers joined in the cry. At the same 
 time, Ned and Joe proceeded to seize upon 
 him, with intentions of further ^iolence. The 
 result might have been unfavourable ; if a 
 man, passing by, had not stopped to see what 
 was the matter, and recognised Frank. It 
 vras the principal clerk of a shop but a few 
 doors from Boggs and Buncombe's. Being 
 athletic, and, at the same time, well-di'essed, 
 Mr Clark was received with some respect, and 
 succeeded in disengaging his young friend, 
 and conducting him towards his lodgings. 
 • "They have hit you in the mouth," said 
 Gark, " it is bleeding.'' 
 
 Here the cries of " Coward ! coward 1 " were 
 again heard from the assailants. •
 
 EARLl TEIAT5. C5 
 
 "Never mind that/' said Clark. "You 
 have done well to keep clear of a fight, which 
 would probably have lodged you in the watch- 
 house. I will explain this matter to Mr 
 Boggs, and he will take care that you are 
 protected." 
 
 When Frank reached his boarding-house, 
 he related the circumstances to Mr Brooks„ 
 who was much concerned. 
 
 "I am thankful,'' said he, ''that it is no 
 worse; and I am glad that these unruly 
 fellows have not left their mark on your 
 face." 
 
 And here he removed Frank's cap, and 
 smoothed down the brown, curly hair, over a 
 face which was crimson with excitement. 
 
 Frank did not care for the blows ; nor, in- 
 deed, was he at all intimidated; but, to tell 
 the truth, the name of coward had siung him 
 deeply. Next day, he found that the story 
 had got to the warehouse, and that the 
 younger clerks had formed no very high 
 opinion of his valour. This was an affliction 
 to him, but he thought within himself, " I 
 know I am not a coward, and my conscience 
 '5 clear, so I will try not to mind what people 
 think of me." 
 
 E
 
 G6 FHANK HARPEE. 
 
 This was a wise determination. His em- 
 ployers, on Mr Clark's testimony, were fully 
 satisfied, and commended him for his forbear- 
 ance. It was scarcely a week before Ned and 
 Joe were both convicted of a petty theft, and 
 thrown into prison ; and even the boys in the 
 warehouse began to perceive that Frank had 
 acted bravely as well as prudently. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 COUEAGE. 
 
 About midnight, on the first of March, Frank 
 was awakened by the heavy toll of the fire- 
 bell. Almost immediately he heard the voice 
 of Mr Brooks at his door. 
 
 '* Frank ! Frank ! The fire is in the neigh- 
 bourhood of your warehouse. I think we had 
 better go and see." 
 
 Frank hurried on his clothes, and ran up 
 to the fire. When they reached John Street, 
 the whole row of buildings appeared to be in 
 a blaze. After a few steps, Frank perceived, 
 that although their shop was not on fire, it
 
 COURAGE. 67 
 
 was in imminent danger, as the houses on 
 one side, and in the rear, were burning. 
 Messrs Boggs and Buncombe were already on 
 the spot; their own safe and books were 
 brought out, and all hands were employed in 
 removing the valuable goods. Few scenes 
 are more exciting than a city fire. The 
 bells, the noise of the firemen, the gathering 
 of crowds, the working of the engines, and 
 the adventures of brave fellows upon the 
 burning houses, make it almost like a 
 battle. 
 
 Frank set himself to work with resolutiaiL 
 The upper lofts were filled with costly goods, 
 and he almost exceeded his strength in labour- 
 ing to remove them. At last, the roof of 
 the house in the rear fell in, and a column 
 of smoke and flame ascended to the skies. 
 The cry was given that their own roof had 
 caught; and the walls were heated like an 
 oven. Now was the time for Frank to shew 
 himself a man. He was the most bold and 
 agile in the company. His country climbing 
 had given him firmness of footing, and he 
 was foremost on the roof, and far out on the 
 edge, spreading wet blankets and cloths upon 
 the shingle covering.
 
 C8 FKAXK HAEPER. 
 
 "Who is that lad?'*' cried several men 
 below. " See ! — he is standing on the ex- 
 treme point ! What madness ! — he will cer- 
 tainly fall ! Who can it be r' 
 
 ''That,** said Mr Clark, "is the boy who 
 was called a coward." And the young 
 clerks who had sneered at him, now looked 
 up at his daring, and were silent 
 
 But Mr Boggs saw that Frank was impru- 
 dent, and therefore directed Iiim to other 
 services which were equally important. They 
 had the satisfaction of seeing their shop 
 saved ; and towards morning one of the 
 partners called Frank, and putting into liis 
 hand a portfolio of valuable papers, said, 
 "Here, Frank, I give you these papers to 
 carry to my house in Waverley PlaJce, for I 
 know you are a trusty and a brave boy." 
 Frank's face glowed at the commendation. 
 Perhaps he had ventured more than he ought 
 to have done, because he knew his courage 
 had been suspected. But now he had been 
 placed in circumstances where none could 
 doubt it 
 
 The few days which followed were occu- 
 pied in a great variety of unusual labours, 
 occasioned by the fire. In this Frank was
 
 COUEAGR 69 
 
 enabled still more to commend himself to 
 his employers, who saw that he was both 
 willing and competent, and that he really 
 looked on their interest as his own. It is 
 not surprising, therefore, that they made him 
 a very handsome present. 
 
 When a young man comes into fovour, it 
 is wonderful how suddenly low and vulgar 
 minds change their opinion of him. So it 
 was with Frank. The young clerks sought 
 his acquaintance. But this did not alter 
 his behaviour to them: he was civil now as 
 he had been civil before. John Small, the 
 youngest of them, was so polite as to invite 
 him to join a Sunday excursion to Coney 
 Island! Frank not only declined, but ex- 
 plained to John the reasons upon which he 
 did so. Samuel Roe offered him a chance of 
 seeins: a grand boxing-match, at the Hall of 
 Novelty, in Pearl Street, which he treated in 
 like manner. 
 
 With Mr Brooks his intercourse was of a 
 very different kind. Frank knew that he 
 was a true Christian, and one who had his 
 welfare at heart. They spent much time to- 
 gether, in walking and talking, and in study- 
 ing the word of God.
 
 7X) FEANK HAEiPER 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CONVICTION. 
 
 How lovely a sight is youthful devotioa ! 
 There are those who most admire the glow of 
 boj'hood, iu sports or learning. But it is more 
 interesting still to behold a youth bowed in 
 solitude before God in prayer. And the 
 sight is one which gives joy in heaven. 
 
 Frank Harper would have seemed abeady 
 a good boy, to any who should have seen him. 
 Especially during the last few weeks, he had 
 been making earnest endeavours to walk in 
 the right way. But every step he took ap- 
 peared to him to reveal some new evil in his 
 nature. 
 
 It was an excellent custom of Mr Brooks 
 to spend some hours of every week in looking 
 up children for the Sunday-school. In these 
 visits, he sometimes took Frank along with 
 him. On one accasion they went into a dark, 
 ill-looking court, and up a crazy staircase, 
 into the room of an Irish family. In an in- 
 
 I
 
 CONVICTION. 71 
 
 ner room (or rather closet), a poor man was 
 lying ill with consumption. He looked as 
 if he could not live more than a few days 
 longer. When he was asked what hope he 
 had for the future, he made a reply, which is, 
 alas ! too common, " I think I shall go happy, 
 for I have never done any one any harm." 
 When they left the house, Frank said — " How 
 could O'Brien talk so ! It is as if he would 
 be saved without a Saviour. Ah ! that is not 
 the way I fee]. If I am ever saved, it ijiiist 
 be by being pardoned.'' 
 
 In so saying, Frank was sincere. Others 
 thought him good ; but he thought himself a 
 sinner. He was much engaged in what is 
 called self-examination; that is, in looking 
 over his past actions and life, and into his 
 character and heart. And the more he looked, 
 the more he detected the evil that was in them. 
 He saw that his good actions had not been 
 done from good motives. He remembered the 
 sins of his youth. He felt that he had more 
 to answer for than others, on account of his 
 religious education. He was alarmed at the 
 demands of the law which he had broken, 
 and perceived that nothing but perfect obedi- 
 ence could satisfy it. God appeared to him
 
 72 FEANK HAEPER. 
 
 as a God of infinite holiness, who could not 
 take pleasure in sin. He was much employed 
 in confessing his sins and bewailing the weak- 
 ness of his nature. In these troubles, he 
 opened his mind very freely to Mr Brooks. 
 
 " I am glad," said Frank, one day, " that 
 Christ spoke the parable about the Publican 
 and the Pharisee. No prayer in the Bible 
 suits my case so well as this, God he merciful 
 to me a sinner !" 
 
 Brooks. Yes, the Bible is the sinner's o^vn 
 book. It is made for sinners, just as medi- 
 •cine is made for those who are diseased. 
 " They that are whole need not a physican, 
 but they that are sick." Take your Bible, 
 Frank, and put a mark in each of the follow- 
 ing places: you will find them good to be 
 recommended to persons in a thoughtful state 
 of mind. (The places were, Job xlii. 1-6 ; 
 Psalm xiii., xxxviii. ; Psalm fifty-fiest ; 
 Psalm Ixix. ; Isaiah i., iv., liiL ; Luke xv. ; 
 1 Tim. i. 15.) 
 
 Frank. I will carefully observe them. Some 
 times I fear I am not enough in earnest; 
 Dut one thing I am certain of, Mr Brooks, 
 the burden of my sins grows heavier and 
 heavier.
 
 CONVICTION. 73 
 
 Broohs So did Christian's, in the Pilgrim's 
 Progress. You have read Bunyan ? 
 
 Frank. Yes, some time ago ; but I must 
 read it again, for now I better understand 
 what it means. It seems to me as if I were 
 still in the Slough of Despond. 
 
 Broohs. Do not forget what Christian did. 
 Bunyan says, '' Still he endeavoured to strug- 
 gle to that side of the slough that was farthest 
 from his own house, and next to the wicket- 
 gate." Whatever you do, do not go back. 
 
 Frank. I hope not ! But I do not seem to 
 go forward. At first, I saw a few sins, but 
 now they seem like the stars of heaven. That 
 voice is always in my ears, Fly from the 
 wrath to come ! 
 
 While Prank was thus exercised in mind, 
 Mr Brooks took him to a little meetino; of 
 Christians, which assembled weekly at the 
 house of a poor but excellent man, whose 
 name was Grove. Mr Grove had been a 
 truly active servant of Christ, but was now 
 laid up with a painful lameness. It was 
 therefore an act of kindness for his friends to 
 meet at his house, and the little company 
 always felt repaid for coming. 
 
 Prank had not before seen much of that
 
 74} FEANK HAEPEE. 
 
 intimate fellowship which exists among be- 
 lievers. He was now struck with the warmth 
 and freedom of their intercourse. They came 
 together as brethren ; they conversed on the 
 most cheering of all subjects; they sung 
 God's praises, and they kneeled together in 
 prayer. 
 
 *' Oh how sad it is/' thought Erank, ''that 
 all here should be able to rejoice in God, 
 except me ! I wonder why I was brought 
 here ! — I am like an Achan in the camp." 
 
 Presently the conversation turned on con- 
 viction of sin, and one or two of those pre- 
 sent gave some account of their own early 
 exercises. Frank was interested to find 
 that the feelings which he had supposed to 
 be peculiar to himself, had been shared by 
 all these friends. And he was much struck 
 with a remark of old Mr Grove, which was 
 this : — 
 
 *• No man can derive solid joy from look- 
 ing into liis own unrenewed heart. For 
 what can he see there but sin ? and sin- is 
 his greatest evil. He must look out of him- 
 self; and whither can he look but to the 
 Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the 
 world?"
 
 COEEESPONDENCE. 75 
 
 That night was a night to be remembered 
 by Frank Harper ; for it was one of fear and 
 weeping. Often did he endeavour to look at 
 the word of promise, but his sins seemed to 
 rise over his head like billows, and obstruct 
 the siofht. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCK 
 LETTER L 
 
 To Mrs Abigail Harper. 
 
 New York, April — , 1845. 
 Dear Mother, — I hope you will not be 
 frightened when I tell you that I am sitting 
 up in bed to write to you: and if the writing 
 is not very good, you will please to remem- 
 ber, that I have my left arm bandaged up. 
 But first of all, be sure to take notice that I 
 am doing very well, and Dr Smith says that 
 no permanent evil will result from it. But I 
 forget that you have not yet heard any of the
 
 76 FEAKK HAEPER. 
 
 particulars. Last Friday week I ^Yas coming 
 up Exchange Place, which is a very narrow 
 street, as well as quite steep, along with a 
 young man named Brooks, who boards with 
 us. All at once I saw a small wagon coming 
 furiously in the opposite direction, with a 
 young woman in it. The horse was running 
 away, and the driver had been thrown out. 
 I never thought a moment, but dashed into 
 the street and tried to stop the horse by 
 throwing up my hands. I then seized the 
 bridle, which broke in my hands, and I was 
 thrown under the wheel. The check given 
 to the horse made it more easy to stop him 
 at the next corner ; so the young woman 
 escaped. But when I got up I found that 
 my arm was broken. Mr Brooks' took me 
 safely home, and a surgeon was sent fur, 
 who set the bone, and put the limb in a 
 splint. I have suffered a good deal of pain, 
 but I think I have not grumbled. It is a 
 mercy that my life has been spared. 
 
 My dear mother — I have thought much of 
 what I talked with you about when I was at 
 Lome. Nobody knows how much it has 
 been on my mind since I have been lying on 
 (ills bed It is wonderful to lue that I should
 
 COERESPONDENCE. 77 
 
 Lave spent so many years in thoughtlessness, 
 especially when I consider all the instruc- 
 tions I have received from you and my father. 
 I have had a long conversation with Mr Hal- 
 sted, the minister, which has only served to 
 open my eyes to my sinfulness. Oh pray for 
 me, my dear mother, that I may become a 
 true behever in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 I intend to write also, by the same hand, 
 to my father, so I will now subscribe myself 
 your aflfectionate son, P. Hakpee. 
 
 LETTER n. S. 
 
 To Mr Isaac Harper, Coventry. 
 
 New York, April 15, 18:15. 
 Dear Father, — You will learn from my 
 letter to mother what has befallen me. It is 
 rather tiresome lying in bed, but I now begin 
 to have more freedom. Mr Bof]fors has been 
 to see me, and Mr Wickes, the book-keeper, 
 comes in every day. But no one has been 
 so kind to me as a Mr Brooks, a very good 
 young man, who was with me at the time I 
 was hurt. He gives me good advice, and 
 helps me in every way. Since I came to 
 know him, I have not. been so lonesome. If
 
 73 FEANK HAEPER. 
 
 I had not got into the company of real 
 Christians, I might have been a poor solitary 
 fellow to this clay, or else I might have gone 
 into bad places, which would have been a 
 great deal worse. There are gentlemen who 
 go about distributing tracts all over town, 
 and one of them has been very kind to me 
 since I have been laid up. I wish you would 
 present my respects to Mr Miller, and say 
 that his letter to Mr Halsted has been of 
 great service to me. 
 
 I am, dear father, your dutiful and affec- 
 tionate son, F. Haepee. 
 
 LETTER m. 
 
 To Miss Mary Harper. 
 
 New York, April ] 6, 1845. 
 My DEAE sistee Maey, — I never wrote so 
 many letters in my life as since I have had 
 my arm crippled ; which makes me glad it is 
 not my right one. I dare say you and Anne 
 will have a good cry about it ; but you ne^d 
 not, for it is all over, and I am getting welL 
 Besides, these things are not half so bad as 
 they are supposed to be. Did you not find 
 this true, when Dr Rose puUed vour tooth ?
 
 COEEESPONDENCE. 79 
 
 You will find it so all your life. Mr Brooks 
 has been putting a curtain to my window (I 
 liave but one) to keep out the sun. I wish 
 you could see the sewing ! He calls it hache- 
 lor-stitch. Give my love to my cousins 
 Phoebe and Jane, and little Patty. Tell 
 George he need not be so eager to come to 
 New York, for he will soon get used to the 
 sights, and then he will wish he was in the 
 country again. Particularly if he should 
 happen to be sick. Mr Brooks has a book of 
 poetry which says, " God made the country, 
 and man made the town;" and I have found 
 out that it is true. But we must be con- 
 tented with our lot. My dear Mary, be obe- 
 dient to your parents, and mind all they say 
 about religion. Now that I am away from 
 them, I feel very sorry for my negligence 
 when I was at home. "Write to me, and- 
 remember your affectionate brother, 
 
 F. Haeper. 
 
 LETTER 17. 
 
 To Miss Anne Harper. 
 
 My dear little sister Anne, — How I 
 wish I had you by me 1 You could conquer
 
 80 FEAXK HAEPER 
 
 me now, for I am deprived of one arm. You 
 have heard how it was. I thought I could 
 stop the horse with ease, for he did not look 
 much more spirited than our Roan ; and after 
 he stopped, he looked as sober as could be. 
 But he was dashing down hill, and I was not 
 as strong as I fancied. 
 
 I suppose you have many signs of spring 
 in the country. Here I do not hear any birds 
 except cage-birds. There are many of these. 
 A man in John Street, named Grieve, has the 
 most wonderful collection of birds. Some- 
 times you may see a hundred together. His 
 parrots used to converse with me every day, 
 as I went to the shop. Tell Jonathan, that 
 if he would send some of his pheasants to 
 market, he would get a good price for them. 
 And if you and Mary would get him to set 
 you out a strawberry bed of your own, it 
 might do a good deal towards supporting 
 you. 
 
 Good-bye, dear Anne; I am over your 
 affectionate brother, F. Harpee.
 
 COEEESPOXDENCE. 81 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 To Mr Theodore Free. 
 
 My dear Teacher, — I have been writing 
 to all my relations at home, and now I feel a 
 wish to fulfil my promise to you. Often do I 
 think of the good advice you used to give me ; 
 and much of it has been of use to me already. 
 Your lessons in writing are likely to be very 
 serviceable to me, just as you prophesiecL Mr 
 Buncombe saw a bill which I copied, and said, 
 " ^ly boy, that is a clerkly hand, and fit for a 
 bank-ledger. That comes of the old-fashioned 
 ciphering books!" Mr Brooks says, that 
 first-rate handwriting is worth a hundred a 
 year to a young man in business. 
 
 I have forgotten some of my geography; 
 but when our fine goods come in from France, 
 it is pleasant to me to know the places. A 
 gentleman was here the other day from Lyons, 
 on the Rhone. Mr Bo<]^2;s has been there 
 twice, and sends letters out there several times 
 a year. 
 
 Do you remember, sir, what you used to 
 tell your boys about arithmetic ? " Boys, 
 mind the Poue Kules: they are the North, 
 F
 
 82 FEANK HARPER. 
 
 South, East, and West, of your compass :" or 
 "Boys, mind the four rules; the comer- 
 stones are Addition, Subtraction, Multiplica- 
 tion, and Division'' I am glad enough that 
 you kept us so long in Addition, when I see 
 the enormous rows of columns which our 
 clerks have to add up. And how quickly 
 they do it — like counting marbles ! And how 
 sure they are that the total is right — without 
 proving. They say that old Mr Smith, the 
 rich man of Canandaigua, once took his son 
 to the top of a hill which overlooked his im- 
 mense estate, and said to him: ''Tom, do you 
 want to know what made me the owner of 
 all this ? I will tell you in one word — Arith- 
 metic." One of Mr Boggs's sayings is, " Bad 
 ciphering makes half the bankrupts." 
 
 But you must not think that my mind is 
 quite taken up with money-making; though 
 it is the chief thing talked about here. Mi' 
 Halsted says there is a golden idol in \Yall 
 Street, as truly as ever there was in the plain 
 of Dura. I hope I shall never forget your 
 counsel about the things of another world. 
 Sir, I should like to have more of them, in a 
 letter; for I have been thinking more of these 
 things than I used to do. And, to tell you
 
 THE PASTOR. 8S 
 
 the truth, I am often very much discouraged. 
 For all my endeavours to make myself better 
 seem to be in vain; and I can only cast my 
 poor sinful soul at the feet of Infinite Mercy, 
 saying, Lord, help ! or I perish ! 
 
 I am, dear sir, your respectful and obliged 
 pupil, F. Haeper 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE PASTOR 
 
 The door of Frank's room opened, one day, 
 and who should come in but good Mr Hal^ 
 sted ! He was a tall and dignified old gen- 
 tleman, with silver hair, and a countenance 
 expressive of benignity and happiness. Frank 
 was a little embarrassed, for his room was not 
 in very good order, and his dress was scarcely 
 neat enough for company. But he had good 
 sense enough to make the best of it, and to 
 offer no apologies. 
 
 Mr Halsted made some kind inquiries 
 about Frank's accident, and commended Ms 
 courage. He theu went on to relate some-
 
 84 FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 thing of the same sort which had once be- 
 fallen himself, and told some anecdotes about 
 his early life in the country, which pleased 
 Frank so much that he soon felt quite at his 
 ease. The old gentleman came, by slow de- 
 grees, to speak of the most important of ail 
 subjects, and said to Frank that he ought to 
 consider this dispensation of Providence as a 
 new call on him to consecrate himself entirely 
 to the Lord, his Preserver. To tliis Frank 
 modestly replied, that he had felt his obliga- 
 tion so to do. The conversation which then 
 followed brought Mr Halsted to understand 
 the state of Frank's mind, as it has been de- 
 scribed in the foregoing pages. I will recorj 
 some parts of their conversation. 
 
 Mr H. You see that there is no way of 
 escape, except by mere mercy, and that you 
 might be justly condemned- Isly dear boy, 
 this is what is called conviction of sin. 
 
 Frank. Yes, sir, you have described my 
 case, but I have heard you say in your sermons 
 that many persons are convinced who are 
 never converted 
 
 Mr H. That is true enough. I do not 
 wish to persuade you that you are converted
 
 TEE PASTOE. 8.> 
 
 when you are not. You are right, conviction 
 is not conversion. 
 
 Frank. Oh 1 then, sir, what must I do to 
 be saved ? 
 
 Mr H. I could answer that question at 
 once, and in the words of Scripture: but at 
 present I wish to lead you to see what it is 
 you need. You probably have endeavoured 
 to reform your life ? 
 
 Frank. Yes, sir, I have endeavoured ; but 
 it has only shewn me my own weakness. 
 
 Mr H. How do you suppose a sinner is to 
 be saved ? 
 
 Frank. I suppose it to be by faith in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Mr H. Have you believed in the Lord 
 Jesus Christ ? 
 
 Frank. I fear, sir, I have not. 
 
 Mr II. Your feeling, then, is, that you ar& 
 not fit to come to Christ? 
 
 Frank. Exactly so. 
 
 Mr II. And are you trying to fit yourself? 
 
 Frank. Yes — no — indeed, sir, I scarcely 
 know how to answer. 
 
 Mr H. But I will answer for you ; the case 
 \5 a very common one. If you think you
 
 86 FRANK HAEPER 
 
 must be more contrite, more humble, more 
 grieved, moi^e sensible of the weiglit of sin, 
 before you can be justified, is to lay your con- 
 trition, your grief, your bumiliation, for the 
 foundation of your being justified — at least, 
 for a part of the foundation." 
 
 Frank. But what am I to do ? 
 
 Mr H. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Frank. But may I come just as I am ? 
 
 Mr H. Certainly — you would not seek first 
 to be saved from your sins, and then come? " Ho 
 every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, 
 and he that hath no money; come ye, buy 
 and eat; yea come, buy wine and milk with- 
 out money and without price." " Though 
 your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white 
 as snow; though they be red like, crimson, 
 they shall be as wool." " And whosoever will 
 let him take the water of life freely." '' This 
 is a faithful saying and worthy of all accep- 
 tation, that Christ Jesus came into the world 
 to save sinners ; of whom I am chief" 
 
 Frank. There, sir ! I see there is no lack 
 of promises, and I begin to see the whole 
 thing in a new light. I have been trying to 
 make myself better : I have been tr5dng to be 
 my own saviour.
 
 TFIE PASTOR 87 
 
 Mr Halstead saw that the word of God 
 was taking its proper effect on the mind of 
 his young friend. He therefore brought the 
 conversation to an end. They both kneeled 
 in prayer, and when the pastor went away he 
 left a tract entitled Poor Joseph. After 
 musing a little on what had been said, Frank 
 took up the tract, and read as follows : — 
 
 "A poor, unlearned man, named Joseph, 
 whose employment was to go on errands and 
 carry parcels, passing through London streets 
 one day, heard psalm-singing in a place of 
 worship, and went into it, having a large 
 parcel of yarn hanging over his shoulders. 
 It was Dr Calamy's church, St Mary's, Alder- 
 manbury. A very well dressed congregation 
 surrounded the doctor. He read his text from 
 1 Tim. i. 1 5 : — ' This is a faithful saying, and 
 worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ 
 came into the world to save sinners ; of whom 
 I am chief From this he preached in the 
 clearest manner the ancient and apostolic 
 gospel, the contents of this faithful saying, 
 that there is eternal salvation for the vilest 
 sinners, only through the worthiness of Jesus 
 Christ, the God that made all things. Not 
 many rich, not many noble, are called by this
 
 88 FEAXK HAEPEK. 
 
 doctrine, says the apostle; 'but God hath 
 chosen the weak things of this world to con- 
 found the things that are mighty/ 
 
 " While the gay and thoughtless part of the 
 congTegation listlessly heard this glorious truth 
 — and, if they were struck -^dth anything, it 
 was only with some fine expression or well- 
 turned sentence that the doctor uttered — Jo- 
 seph, in rags, gazing with astonishment, never 
 took his eyes from the preacher, but drank in 
 with eagerness all that he said; and trudging 
 homeward, he was heard thus speaking with 
 himself: 'Joseph never heard this before; 
 Jesus Christ, the God who made all things, 
 came into the world to save sinners like 
 Joseph ; and this is true, and it is a " faith- 
 ful saying." ' 
 
 "Not long after this, Joseph was seized 
 with a fever, and was dangerously ill. As he 
 tossed upon his bed his constant language 
 was, 'Joseph is the chief of sinners, but Jesus 
 Christ came into the world to save sinners, 
 and Joseph loves him for this.' His neigh- 
 bours who came to see him wondered, on 
 hearing him always dwell on this, and only 
 this. Some of the religious sort addressed 
 him in the following manner : ' But what say
 
 THE PASTOE. 8D 
 
 yon of your o"wn heart, Joseph ? Is there no 
 token of good about it ? No saving change 
 there 1 Have you closed with Christ, by act- 
 ing faith upon Him?' Ah no/ says he, 
 
 * Josej^h can act nothing — Joseph has nothing 
 to say for liiniself but that he is the chief of 
 sinners ; yet, seeing that it is a ' faithful say- 
 ing ' that Jesus, He who made all things, came 
 into the world to save sinners, why may not 
 Joseph, after all, be saved?' 
 
 " One man finding out that he heard this 
 doctrine from Dr Calamy, went and asked the 
 doctor to come and visit him. He came, but 
 Joseph was now very weak, and had not 
 spoken for some time, and though told of Dr 
 Calamy's arrival, he took no notice of him ; 
 but when the doctor began to speak to him, 
 as soon as he heard the sound of his voice, he 
 instant}}^ sprang upon his elbows, and seizing 
 him by his hands, exclaimed as loud as he 
 could with his now feeble and trembling voice, 
 
 * Oh, sir ! you are the friend of the Lord Jesus 
 whom I heard speak so Avell of Him. Joseph 
 is the chief of sinners ; but it is a " faithful 
 saying," that Jesus Christ, the God who made 
 all things, came into the world to save sinners, 
 and why not Joseph? Oh I pray to that Jesus
 
 90 FRANK HAEPEE. 
 
 for me, pray that He may save me: tell Him 
 that Joseph thinks that he loves Him, for 
 comino: into the world to save such sinners 
 as Joseph.' 
 
 " The doctor prayed ; when he concluded, 
 Joseph thanked him most kindly ; he then put 
 his hand under his piUow, and took out an 
 old rag, in which were tied up five guineas, 
 and putting it into the doctor's hand (which 
 he had kept all this while close in his), he 
 thus addressed him : ' Joseph, in his folly, had 
 laid this up to keep him in his old age ; but 
 Joseph will never see old age ; take it, and 
 divide it amongst the poor friends of the Lord 
 Jesus ; and tell them that Joseph gave it to 
 them for His sake who came into the world 
 to save sinners, of whom I am chief/ " 
 
 The narrative was new to Frank, and made 
 a deep impression on his mind. He thought 
 of little else during the remainder of the day. 
 Poor Joseph had taught him the great lesson 
 of looking away from himself to the Lord 
 Jesus Christ; and when he fell asleep that 
 night he seemed to have forgotten himself, 
 so fuUy was he absorbed in contemplating the 
 excellency and grace of the Kedeemer.
 
 A EEMARKABLE CHANGE. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A EEMARKABLE CHANGE. 
 
 It was a trial of patience to Frank to be 
 kept so long in his room, and it is probably 
 wearisome to the reader to hear so much 
 about it. We shall therefore hasten to the 
 time when he was able to return to his busi- 
 ness. 
 
 The month was May, and the season was 
 delightful. How refreshing is it to the in- 
 valid, after long confinement, to breathe the 
 balmy air of spring ! Prank felt this as he 
 walked with his faithful friend upon the Bat- 
 tery. The trees were putting forth their 
 early leaves. A gentle breeze just ruffled the 
 surface of the spacious bay, which was 
 ploughed in every direction by vessels of 
 every size. Numbers of small sail-boats shot 
 along, skimming the waters as if they had 
 been alive. At intervals, the whiz of a steam- 
 boat, as it speeded by, broke in upon the 
 stillness. A ship of the line (the North
 
 02 ^EA^^I eiaeper. 
 
 Carolina) was lying in the stream, a noble 
 object, looking as if it were almost irresistible. 
 There was also an Italian vessel at anchor, 
 dressed vrith gay flags and streamers on every 
 mast and yard, in honour of the birth-day of 
 the king of Naples. Other objects added to 
 the interest of the scene. On this side stretch 
 the masses of building of the city, with wharfs 
 and a forest of masts. Yonder is Governor's 
 Island, with its green slopes and fortifications, 
 from which the roll of the drum may be 
 heard. Further in the distance are the hills 
 of Jersey, and the bold shore of Staten Island, 
 sparkling with villas ; and then, far away, the 
 opening to the Atlantic, which is known as 
 tlie Narrows. A soft sunshine played on the 
 whole, and the multitude of sounds, on tlie 
 water and the land, mingled into a pleasing 
 murmur. 
 
 Sometimes sitting, and sometimes walking, 
 the two friends talked of the objects around 
 them, but gradually came round to that which 
 was most dear to them both. 
 
 "I do not know how it is," said Frank, 
 "but I never enjoyed these sights so much 
 before: often as I have been here. Every 
 thing has a new appearance. The air is mora
 
 A EEMARKABLE CHANGK 93 
 
 sweet and refreshing, and I feel as if I loved 
 all that I see." 
 
 Brooks looked kindly on the placid face of 
 his young companion, but said nothing. 
 
 "Is it right to feel so happy?" continued 
 Frank, " every thing within me seems quiet, 
 like that smooth water of the bay. It is very 
 peaceful and very delightful; but is it right V 
 
 " It is certainly not wrong,'' replied Brooks, 
 " to feel peaceful and happy. There is a peace 
 of God that passes all understanding. The 
 * fruit of the Spirit is peace.' If you have 
 peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, all is well Let me ask you a ques- 
 tion — what do you feel towards God?" 
 
 Frank hesitated a little, as if afraid to 
 answer so important a question hastily, and 
 then said, with a low voice, " I think i love 
 God. I see Him in every thing. Every thing 
 seems dearer to me because He made it, and 
 because He is present with it. Formerly I did 
 not think much about God ; now He appears 
 always near; and it is pleasant and easy to 
 pray within myself." 
 
 " What do you feel towards the Lord Jesus 
 Christ?" inquired Brooks. 
 
 Frank's cheek reddened, and his eyes filled
 
 94 FEANK HARPER 
 
 with tears ; but a smile played upon Ms lips. 
 " Oh, I cannot tell yoti ! He has died for me ! 
 I think He has saved my soul. I am filled 
 with shame and sorrow for the way in which 
 I have treated Him. But I desire to throw 
 myself at His feet and give myself away to 
 Him, for ever and ever." 
 
 " Then I suppose, Frank, you think your- 
 self a great deal better than you once were — " 
 
 " Do not speak of it ! I see my own weak- 
 ness and vileness more than ever. I see my 
 need of the fountain that is opened for sin 
 and transgression. I cannot compare myself 
 to anything but a poor, weak little child; 
 God must hold me up with His hand ; I can- 
 not go alone." 
 
 " How then," said Brooks, " do you expect 
 ever to be saved ? If you have no strength, 
 and no righteousness of your own, how can 
 you satisfy God's holy law ?" 
 
 " Christ has satisfied the law for me. He 
 has died on the cross, and borne my sins in 
 His own body on the tree. He has brought 
 in an everlasting righteousness. He is able 
 and willing to save the chief of sinners." 
 
 " Do you believe this, Frank?" 
 
 " How can I help believing it ! The pro-
 
 A EEMAEKABLE CHAIS^GE. 95 
 
 mise of the gospel is plain — very plain. It 
 shines like a bright light. If I do not believe 
 it, I must disbelieve God/' 
 
 "But, Frank, every one does not believe it; 
 you did not always believe it. What great 
 things have you done to make you so much 
 better than others?" 
 
 Frank looked steadily in his face, with an 
 air of surprise, and answered quickly, 
 
 " I have done no great thing — I am no 
 better than others ; but I think — I believe — 
 that God has shewn me mercy, and has sent 
 His Holy Spirit to make me see my sins, and 
 to make me see the willingness of Christ to 
 save me." 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Mr Brooks, " I am 
 really thankful that you have been thus 
 wrought upon. You cannot trust in God too 
 much, nor rejoice in God too much; but re- 
 member, you must be prepared for head winds 
 and stormy weather."
 
 9G • FRANK HATJ^EB. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 Long before the jiioint of time at v/hich we 
 have arrived, Frank had lost all traces of 
 home-sickness and discontent. The novelty 
 of a town life had worn off; but he had in the 
 same de^rree become familiar v/ith his busi- 
 ness, and with the ways of a commercial city. 
 He was so industrious and punctual, so neat 
 and quick-handed, so good at accounts, and 
 so true and trusty, that his employers were 
 every day putting into his hands little pieces 
 of business, which had hitherto been com- 
 nntted to the elder clerks. Thus it is that 
 faithfulness in one's calling leads to a good 
 name and to promotion. 
 
 How different it was with his early town 
 acquaintances, Ned and Joe! In reading a 
 morning paper, one day, Frank's eye alighted 
 on the following paragraph in the police 
 report : — 
 
 " Grand Larceny. — Captain Wills, and
 
 PEOTIDENCE. 97 
 
 constable Milton, of the sixth ward, arrested 
 yesterday, at the house of Jane Moggs, corner 
 cf Dey and Threadneedle Streets, two young 
 fellows, named Joseph Denton and Ned 
 Briggs, on a charge of robbing a !Mr Louis 
 Dampier, while at the island of Port-au- 
 Prince, of four bills of the Bank of France 
 for £4:0 each, with a promissory note, drawn 
 by a Mr Choux of Paris, made payable at the 
 order of Dampier. On -searching their per- 
 sons and trunks all the money was found in 
 their possession, except about £6, expended 
 in the purchase of clothing, and a watch 
 which they had bought with the stolen 
 money." 
 
 But though Frank was contented, he was 
 not altogether free from anxiety. He began 
 to perceive that something was wrong* in the 
 house with wliich he was connected. Several 
 of the young men were discharged. A great 
 sadness hung over the two principals. At 
 length, one morning, before he left his lodg- 
 ings, Frank received a note, by the hands of 
 old Cato, informing him that Messrs Boggs 
 and Buncombe had no further need of his 
 services. In a word, their store had been 
 closed by the creditors. 
 
 G
 
 98 FRANK HARPER 
 
 Frank was thus, all on a sudden, deprived 
 of -^employment. He was the more embar- 
 rassed, because his friend, Mr Brooks, had 
 been several weeks absent, on a tour through 
 the Southern and Western States, preparatory 
 to going into business for himself. After 
 musing sadly over the case, he saw no way 
 open for him, but to pack up his trunk and 
 return to his father's house. Perhaps Provi- 
 dence, which had befriended him thus far, 
 would open some path of usefulness. At any 
 rate, he shoald see his honoured parents, and 
 his dear sisters; and perhaps he might take 
 another quarter in good Mr Tree's school, to 
 perfect himself in geograj)hy, history, natural 
 philosophy, and double entry. 
 
 The ways of Providence are wonderful, and 
 he who observes them will find it true, even 
 in the days of his youth. Frank had risen 
 early in the morning, and was soon on his 
 way to the ferry. His emotions were of a 
 mingled nature : sadness at leaving his place 
 of employment — joyful hope of rejoiuing the 
 circle at home. He suddenly" thought of 
 stopping at the post-ofl&ce, and there he found 
 a letter addressed to him by his friend Mr 
 Brooks. On breaking the seal, he was at
 
 PEOVIDENCE. 99 
 
 once thrown into a flutter. It informed him 
 that Mr Brooks was about to open a store in- 
 Fulton Street, and the letter went on to say: 
 "I have engaged the services of a young 
 cousin of mine, for my little business; but 
 you know I shall need a clerk and salesman; 
 and I know no one, my dear Frank, whom 1 
 would rather have near me than yourself If, 
 therefore, you can consent to cast in your lot 
 with mine, how delightful it will be! For 
 the present, the utmost I can afford you is 
 ^50 a year; but this is rather more than you 
 have been receivino; from Booog and Bun- 
 combe. Direct to me at Louisville, and let 
 me know your determination." 
 
 Frank scarcely knew which way to turn. 
 His first thought was to go back to his lodg- 
 ings; but, on consideration, he determined to 
 carry out his previous intention of visiting 
 his parents; especially as it would be some 
 weeks before he should have any business in 
 town. His heart swelled with gratitude to 
 God for this most seasonable interposition, 
 and he went on his way with spirits which 
 made the journey one of unexpected pleasure. 
 
 The arrival of Frank spread joy through 
 the farm-house at Coventry. His father, who
 
 100 FRANK HAEPER. 
 
 was in the corn-field, saw him first, and left 
 the plough, to welcome his only son. His 
 mother was knitting by the kitchen fire ; she 
 scarcely believed her eyes, when the tall and 
 handsome youth who entered proved to be 
 her own Frank. Mary and Anne bounded in 
 from the dairy, and threw their arms about 
 his neck. Jonathan shook his hand with a 
 vehemence which almost put his wrist out of 
 joint; and the old dog leaped as high as his 
 head, and covered him with violent caresses. 
 
 Most of the day was given up to these do- 
 mestic joys. There was much to be told, and 
 more questions were asked than could be 
 answered. Frank gave a detailed account of 
 liis recent history, interspersed with many 
 new traits of city life. All agreed 'that he 
 had been the special care of Providence. He 
 also found that he could comprehend and 
 estimate the humble piety of his parents, in a 
 manner altogether unknown to him before. 
 
 By the advice of his father, Frank deter- 
 mined to spend the few remaining weeks in 
 such active exercise as might strengthen his 
 system, after the confinement of the city. He 
 therefore put on a suit of homespun, and 
 turned in upon the work of the faim. The
 
 PEOVIDENCE. 101 
 
 thoughts of his childhood came to him again, 
 when, during the fine weather of early sum- 
 mer, he walked slowly after the plough, en- 
 joying the fragrance of the fresh earth and 
 the green com ; or when he s"\Yung the scythe 
 among the first cuttinjr of the rich meadows. 
 The de-\vy mornings were sweet to him beyond 
 expression, and he seemed to inhale vigour 
 with every breath. And then, when work 
 was over, how charming were the evenings at 
 the old porch, overgrown with honeysuckles 
 and clustering roses, amidst the circle of 
 those whom he most loved! 
 
 Thus rolled away five or six pleasant weeks, 
 when, one afternoon, who should alight before 
 LIr Harper's door but Mr Brooks. Frank v/as 
 overjoyed to recognise his old friend, from 
 whom he soon learned that he was ready to 
 commence business, and tliat Frank was 
 henceforth to be employed in his store, and 
 to be an inmate of his family ; for, among 
 other arrangements of life, Mr Brooks had 
 married a prudent and very agreeable Chris- 
 tian lady. 
 
 The parents were much pleased with 
 Frank's prospects. 
 
 " Don't thank me ! " said Brooks, '' you owe
 
 102 FEA5K HAEPER. 
 
 me no thanks at all. I am consulting my 
 own pleasure and interest. I know Frank, 
 and he knows me; we shall go well in the 
 traces together/' 
 
 We need not follow our young friend into 
 the further details of his history. His new 
 connection was all that he could wish. Both 
 he and his employer humbly endeavoured to 
 honour God in their worldly calling, and God 
 was pleased to smile on their business. 
 
 Let the youthful reader learn, that " by 
 humility and the fear of the Lord, are riches, 
 and honour, and life."
 
 d^ho €ml 
 
 The pleasant summer was past ; the autumn 
 had faded into the chill of winter ; the chil- 
 dren had begun to enjoy the cheerful amuse- 
 ments of snow-houses and snow-men, and the 
 more active play of sliding and coasting. Eva 
 took an active part in those amusements, and 
 used to look very pretty with her little blue 
 hood and warm gray cloak and fur tippet, 
 ruling the others as well as joining heartily 
 in their play. She had such a sweet and 
 winning way of speaking, her voice was 
 always so gentle, and she was so ready to 
 sacrifice her own pleasure to theirs, that the 
 children rarely failed to listen to her voice, 
 and do as she bid them, so that their mother 
 felt quite easy about their good behaviour
 
 ] 04 eva's trial. 
 
 and safety, if ' sister Eva' was only with them. 
 But Eva, gentle and good as she was, was 
 not perfect, and the lesson of her own weak- 
 ness was to be taught to them and her. 
 
 One day she came in, from pla}n[ng with 
 snowballs, with a severe pain in her eyes and 
 bead. It continued for some hours so very 
 severe, that they sent for their physician, who 
 immediately inquired if she had looked much 
 at the fresh snow. When he heard where 
 she had been, he said that the glare of the 
 snow had affected her eyesight, and that she 
 must be kept very close from it, and even be 
 confined for some days in a dark room, and 
 if she was not very careful, she might lose the 
 sight of her eyes entirely. 
 
 Poor little girl ! She suffered muT)h from 
 the pain in her eyes ; and then to be obliged 
 to be alone in a dark room, not beinsj able 
 even to have her brother and sisters playing 
 in her room for their noise, was very hard. 
 Her mother staid mth her as long as she 
 could, and her father came into her room 
 every night, as soon as he came home from 
 his business, and rocked her in his arms till 
 she fell asleep. Lucy and Ben would come 
 to her door as often as they could get per-
 
 EVASTEIAL. 105 
 
 mission, and whisper how sorry they were 
 that she could not be with them, and how 
 sadly they missed her from school. But this 
 always made her feel the more sad. 
 
 They had just commenced going to a little 
 school near their home. The teacher was 
 very kind, and tried both to interest and in- 
 struct them. So they loved her dearly; 
 Eva had the first place in her class, which 
 was the first class in school, and was very 
 fond both of study and reading. Now being 
 obliged to leave school, where she was so 
 happy, without being able to look at a book 
 at home, was more than the little girl was 
 able to bear patiently. 
 
 It was no small trial to her besides to be 
 away from her brothers and sisters. She wa-s 
 very fond of them, and had always taken 
 pride and pleasure in being called ' the good 
 little sister.' She desired far more than most 
 little girls to be useful So she felt very un- 
 happy, and hardly ever smiled. 
 
 Her father and mother were much alarmed 
 about her, and feared that her health would 
 fail altogether if she did not get better and 
 happier soon. They were disappointed too, 
 for thev thought their little girl was so good
 
 106 EVAS TRIAL. 
 
 and gentle, she would be patient under any 
 trial. 
 
 At last lier mother wrote to Aunt Esther 
 about it — for she had gone away to sjDend 
 the winter — and begged her to return to them 
 on Eva's account, and see if she could not 
 make her more cheerful. 
 
 Aunt Esther started immediately to go to 
 her darhng, for Eva was her especial favourite. 
 She was deeply grieved that she should suffer 
 so, and still more that she should be so un- 
 happy under it. But she was not much sur- 
 prised, for she knew the heart is very deceitful, 
 and that God, in His love and wisdom, is often 
 obliged to lay His hand upon us, and to afflict 
 us where we are least able to bear it of our- 
 selves, to shew us our weakness and constant 
 need of His help. So as she journeyed swiftly 
 along, she prayed that she might be able to 
 comfort and strengthen the dear child, and 
 lead her to trust in His love and wisdom, 
 even when she would be of no use to any 
 one. 
 
 Eva was quite overcome when her aunt 
 came softly into her room and took her into 
 her arms, almost before she knew she was in 
 the house. She began to cry ; but her aunt
 
 EVA'S TBTAL. ] 07 
 
 told her firmly that she must control herself, 
 as crying so much was greatly injuring her 
 eyes. So Eva tried very heard to check her 
 sobs, while her aunt went on telling her about 
 her journey, and about her cousins she had 
 just left, till Eva forgot her own troubles in 
 her interest in what she said. At last she 
 began to talk about Eva's eyes, and the reason 
 why God had afflicted her so. 
 
 ' I can't see why, auntie, I am sure," said 
 Eva, ' for I can't be of any use to any one, 
 and I am a great deal of trouble to papa and 
 mamma ;' and Eva looked as if she was going 
 to cry again. 
 
 ' But, my dear child, we must believe that 
 God does what is best, because He says He 
 does. If we don't see the reason, we must 
 trust Him that He has a good one. You know 
 this, Eva, and used to think you trusted iy 
 Him, did you not? — just as you trust in 
 what your parents do for you, though they 
 do not always tell you the reason of their 
 conduct.' 
 
 ' I know I am naughty, auntie, to feel so, 
 but I doubt if I ever could be happy while I 
 am shut up here in the dark.' 
 
 *Yes, but you can be 'patient, my dear
 
 108 eva's trial. 
 
 and I think I can see, in your case, the reason 
 why God has afflicted you so. Your beinc; 
 so unreconciled to His will, shews that your 
 will needed to be subdued, just as if your not 
 being willing to stay at home if your mother 
 did nor think it best for you to go out, would 
 shew that you needed to have your request 
 refused/ 
 
 'But, auntie, I don't see how it does sub- 
 due my will ; for I never felt so cross and so 
 unhappy before. I used to think that I 
 loved God, and that He loved me ; but now, 
 sometimes I am afraid to think anything 
 about it, I feel so wicked. I am afraid I 
 never shall be good d:gain.' 
 
 'Do not weep, my love, but listen to me 
 while I try to explain what I think is the 
 reason of your feeling so. You know the 
 Bible says we are all sinners, and that we do 
 not love to obey God of ourselves. 
 
 * But if we pray to Him for help, He will 
 give it to us, and will help us to be good and 
 serve Him. But in oraer to do this, some- 
 times He has to shew us to ourselves; that is, 
 to shew us how unwilling we really are to do 
 just as He wishes us to do, or else we shall 
 forget that it is He who makes us good
 
 EVASTrJAL. lOD 
 
 and begin to think that we are good of our- 
 selves. 
 
 * If you thought you were willing to obey 
 your mother, and she never told you to do 
 anythinor but what you wanted to do, you 
 would think, perhaps, that it was because you 
 were so good that you never felt unwilling to 
 obey her. 
 
 'But if she were to tell you to do something 
 you disliked to do, if you did it, it would be 
 because she required it ; or, if you did not do 
 it, it would shew that you had obeyed her 
 before, only to j^lease yourself. 
 
 * If God, looking into your heart, has seen 
 that you were kind and obedient and gentle, 
 more because it pleased yourself than to please 
 Him, was it not kind in Him to shew you 
 that ? because, you know, He says we must 
 love Him with all our hearts, or we cannot 
 be His children — cannot be happy with Him 
 when we die. He Avishes to have the whole 
 heart given up to Him. 
 
 * You, little Eva, have always loved to help 
 others and make them happy ; you loved very 
 much to have a smile of approbation from 
 your parents and friends ; you were happy to 
 be so useful to them; you thought you loved
 
 no EVA'S TEIAL. 
 
 God — perhaps thought you desired His ap- 
 proval more than that of any other. ■ 
 
 ' God saw that this was not the case, but in 
 His love and mercy He did not let you go on 
 in ignorance of your own heart. He touched 
 you where it was most hard to bear. Do you 
 understand me, my dear ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, auntie, I think so. I see how bad I 
 have been in not beiug willing that He should 
 make me sick if He thought that was best.' 
 
 ' And what, then, have you now to dol' 
 Pray to God, auntie, to forgive me for 
 Christ's sake, and try not to feel so naughty 
 any more.' 
 
 'That is it, my dear. If you only feel 
 that, the lesson is begun to be learned. Then 
 if you keep feeling so, and try to be willing 
 that God shall make you sick or weU, just as 
 he sees fit, you will be a happier little girl 
 than if aU the riches of this world were yours ; 
 and you could make everybody in the world 
 happy and comfortable.' 
 
 'But, auntie, is it not right for me to be 
 sorry to trouble mamma, and that I am not 
 able to help her as I used to do ? I know she 
 often gets very tired and misses me among 
 the other children.'
 
 EVA'S TEIAL. Ill 
 
 * Yes, my dear, it is right ; but it is not 
 right to feel more anxious to help her than 
 to please God. There is the trouble. You 
 have thought more of her than of your heavenly 
 Father. You remember the words of Jesus: 
 "He that loveth father or mother more than 
 me, is not worthy of me." ' 
 
 'Oh, auntie, I do hope I can learn to be 
 good and do right always.' 
 
 ' You must not expect that you will always 
 feel right at first. We can't do that till we 
 go to heaven; but you can always be sorry 
 when you do wrong, and ask God to forgive 
 you, and the more you do right, the easier it 
 will be. One thing more, my dear : did you 
 ever think that your being unhappy and 
 worrying so much, troubles your mother more 
 than all the help you could render her would 
 do her good, if you were well?' 
 
 ' Why no, auntie/ 
 
 * It is quite true, my dear. If she sees you 
 patient and happy, she wiU feel that her good 
 little helper has come again. You must help 
 her take care of Eva, just as you would help 
 her take care of Lucy if she were sick.' . 
 
 ' Why, auntie, how funny ! I will re- 
 member that. Now, Miss Eva, I am going
 
 112 EYASTEIAL, 
 
 to take care of you ; inind and behave your- 
 self, or I shall certainly scold. How glad I 
 am you are come/ 
 
 Little child though she. was, she was now 
 learning that it ' was good to be afflicted,' 
 
 Little Eva's eyes were weak a long time, 
 and she was obliged to be shut up in a dark 
 room for many weeks. But from this time, 
 she learned to be patient, even under her 
 greatest trial of being ' of no use.' And all 
 her life after this, she used to thank God that 
 He bad shewn her how much she needed His 
 help in doing and feeling truly right in sub- 
 mitting her will/w% to the will of God.
 
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