On RECOMMENDATIONS.

Mrs. Jones had one talent that eminently quali⯑fied her to do good, namely judgment; this even in the gay part of her life had kept her from many miſtakes, but though ſhe had ſometimes been de⯑ceived herſelf, ſhe was very careful not to deceive others, in recommending people to fill any office either through ſelfiſhneſs or falſe kindneſs. She uſed to ſay, "there is always ſome one appropriate quality which every perſon muſt poſſeſs, in order [4]to fit them for any particular employment. Even in this quality," ſaid ſhe to Mr. Simpſon the Clergy⯑man, "I do not expect perfection; but if they are deſtitute of this, whatever good qualities they may poſſeſs beſides, though they may do for ſome other employment, they will not do for this. If I want a pair of ſhoes, I go to a ſhoemaker; I do not go to a man of another trade however ingenious he may be, to aſk him if he cannot contrive to make me a pair of ſhoes. When I lived in London I learnt to be much on my guard as to recommenda⯑tions. I found people often wanted to impoſe on me ſome one who was a burthen to themſelves. Once I remember when I undertook to get a ma⯑tron for an hoſpital, half my acquaintance had ſome one to offer me. Mrs. Gibſon ſent me an old cook whom ſhe herſelf had diſcharged for waſting her own proviſions, yet ſhe had the conſcience to re⯑commend this woman to take care of the provi⯑ſions of a large community. Mrs. Grey ſent me a diſcarded houſekeeper whoſe conſtitution had been ruined by ſitting up with Mrs. Grey's gouty huſband, but who ſhe yet thought might do well enough to undergo the fatigue of taking care of an hundred poor ſick people. A third friend ſent me a woman who had no merit but that of being very poor, and it would be charity to provide for her. The truth is, the lady was obliged to allow her a ſmall penſion till ſhe could get her off her own hands by turning her on thoſe of others."

"It is very true, Madam," ſaid Mr. Simpſon, "the right way is always to prefer the good of the many to the good of one; if indeed it can be cal⯑led doing good to any one to place them in a ſta⯑tion in which they muſt feel unhappy, by not know⯑ing [5]how to diſcharge the duties of it. I will tell you how I manage. If the perſons recommended are objects of charity, I privately ſubſcribe to their wants; I pity and help them, but I never promote them to a ſtation for which they are unfit, and thus hurt a whole community to help a diſtreſſed individual."

Thus Mrs. Jones reſolved, that the firſt ſtep to⯑wards ſetting up her ſchool ſhould be to provide a ſuitable miſtreſs. The veſtry were ſo earneſt in recommending one woman that ſhe thought it worth looking into. On enquiry, ſhe found it was a ſcheme to take a large family off the pariſh; they never conſidered that a very ignorant woman, with a family of young children, was not fit for a ſchool, all they conſidered was that the profits of the ſchool might enable her to live without pariſh pay. Mrs. Jones refuſed another, though ſhe could read well and was decent in her conduct, becauſe ſhe uſed to ſend her children to the ſhop on Sundays. And ſhe objected to a third, a very ſenſible woman, becauſe ſhe was ſuſpected of making an outward profeſſion of religion a cloak for immoral conduct. Mrs. Jones knew ſhe muſt not be too nice neither, ſhe knew ſhe muſt put up with many faults at laſt. "I know," ſaid ſhe to Mr. Simpſon, "the imper⯑fection of every thing that is human. As the miſtreſs will have much to bear with from the chil⯑dren, ſo I expect to have ſomething to bear with in the miſtreſs, and ſhe and I muſt ſubmit to our reſpective trials, by thinking how much God has to bear with in us all. But there are three things which a miſtreſs muſt not be without, good ſenſe, activity, and piety. Without the firſt ſhe will miſ⯑lead others, without the ſecond ſhe will neglect [6]them, and without the third, though ſhe may civi⯑lize, yet ſhe will never chriſtianize them."

Mr. Simpſon ſaid, "he really knew but of one perſon in the pariſh who was fully likely to anſwer her purpoſe: this" continued he "is no other than my houſe keeper, Mrs. Betty Crew. It will indeed be a great loſs to me to part from her; and to her it will be a far more fatiguing life than ſhe at pre⯑ſent leads. But ought I to put my own perſonal comfort, or ought Betty to put her own eaſe and quiet, in competition with the good of above an hundred children? This will appear ſtill more im⯑portant if we conſider the good done, not as fruit but ſeed; if we take into the account how many yet unborn may become chriſtians, in conſequence of our making theſe children chriſtians. For how can we calculate the number which may be here⯑after trained for heaven, by thoſe very children we are going to teach, when they themſelves ſhall become parents, and you and I are dead and for⯑gotten? To be ſure, by parting from Betty my peaſe-ſoup will not be quite ſo well flavoured, nor my linen ſo neatly got up; but the day is faſt ap⯑proaching when all this will ſignify but little; but it will not ſignify a little whether one hundred im⯑mortal ſouls were the better from my making this petty ſacrifice. Betty Crew is a real chriſtian, has excellent ſenſe, and had a good education from my mother. She has alſo had a little ſort of training; for when the poor children come to the parſonage for the broth on a Saturday evening, Betty is uſed to appoint them all to come at the ſame time, and after ſhe has filled their pitchers ſhe ranges them round her in the garden, and exa⯑mines them in their catechiſm. She is juſt and fair [7]in dealing out the broth and beef, not making my favour to the parents depend on the ſkill of their children. But her own old caps, and ribbons, and caſt off cloaths, are beſtowed as little rewards on the beſt ſcholars. So that taking the time ſhe ſpends in working for them, and the things ſhe gives them, there is many a lady who does not ex⯑ceed Betty in acts of charity; this I mention to confirm your notion, that it is not neceſſary to be rich in order to do good; a religious upper ſervant has great opportunities of this ſort."

My readers I truſt need not be informed, that this is that very Mrs. Betty Crew who aſſiſted Mrs. Jones in teaching poor women to cut out linen and cook cheap diſhes, as related in the Cottage Cook. Mrs. Jones in the following week got to⯑gether as many of the mothers as ſhe could; and ſpoke to them as follows.

Mrs. JONES's EXHORTATION.

"My good women, on Sunday next I pro⯑poſe to open a ſchool for the inſtruction of your children. Thoſe among you who know what it is to be able to read your Bible will, I doubt not, rejoice that the ſame bleſſing is held out to your children. You who are not able yourſelves to read what your Saviour has done and ſuffered for you, ought to be doubly anxious that your children ſhould reap a bleſſing which you have loſt. Would not that mother be thought an unnatural monſter who ſhould ſtand by and ſnatch out of her child's mouth the bread which a kind friend had juſt put into it? But ſuch a mother would be merciful com⯑pared with her who ſhould rob her children of the opportunity of learning to read the word of God when it is held out to them. Remember, that if [8]you ſlight the preſent offer, or if after having ſent your children a few times you ſhould afterwards keep them at home under vain pretences, you will have to anſwer for it at the day of judgment. Let not your poor children then have cauſe to ſay "my fond mother was my worſt enemy. I might have been bred up in the fear of the Lord and ſhe op⯑poſed it for the ſake of a little paltry pleaſure, for an idle holiday, I am now brought to the gates of hell." My dear women, which of you could bear to ſee your darling child condemned to ever⯑laſting deſtruction? which of you could bear to hear him accuſe you as the cauſe of it? Is there any mother here preſent who will venture to ſay, 'I will doom the child I bore to ſin and hell, ra⯑ther than put them or myſelf to a little preſent pain by curtailing their evil inclinations, I will let them ſpend the Sabbath in ignorance and idleneſs inſtead of ſending them to ſchool!' Let that mother, who values her child's pleaſure more than his ſoul, now walk away, and I will ſet down the names of all thoſe who wiſh to bring their young ones up in the way that leads to eternal life, inſtead of indulg⯑ing them in the pleaſures of ſin which are but for a moment."

When Mrs. Jones had done ſpeaking, moſt of the women thanked her for her good advice, and hoped that God would give them grace to follow it; promiſing to ſend their children conſtantly. Others, who were not ſo well diſpoſed were yet afraid to refuſe, after the ſin of ſo doing had been ſo plainly ſet before them. The worſt of the wo⯑men had kept away from this meeting, reſolving to ſet their faces againſt the ſchool. Moſt of them who were preſent, as ſoon as they got home ſet [9]about providing their children with what little de⯑cent apparel they could raiſe. Many a willing mother lent her tall daughter her hat, beſt cap, and white handkerchief, and many a grateful father ſpared his linen waiſtcoat and bettermoſt hat to induce his grown up ſon to attend; for it was a rule with which Mrs. Jones began, that ſhe would not receive the younger children out of any fa⯑mily who did not ſend their elder ones. Too many made excuſes that their ſhoes were old, or their hat worn out. But Mrs. Jones told them not to bring any excuſes to her which they could not bring to the day of judgment; and among thoſe excuſes ſhe would hardly admit any except accidents, ſick⯑neſs, or attendance on ſick parents, or young children.

SUBSCRIPTIONS.

Mrs. Jones was very deſirous of getting the help and countenance of the farmers and tradeſpeople, whoſe duty ſhe thought it was to ſupport a plan, calculated to improve the virtue and happineſs of the pariſh. Moſt of them ſubſcribed, and pro⯑miſed to ſee that their workmen ſent their children. She met with little oppoſition till ſhe called on farmer Hoſkins. She told him, as he was the richeſt farmer in the pariſh, ſhe came to him for a handſome ſubſcription. "Subſcription!" ſaid he, "it is nothing but ſubſcriptions I think; a man had need be made of money." "Farmer," ſaid Mrs. Jones, "God has bleſſed you with abun⯑dant proſperity, and he expects you ſhould be li⯑beral in proportion to your great ability." "I do not know what you mean by bleſſing," ſaid he; "I have been up early and late, lived hard while I had little, and now when I thought I had got for⯑ward [10]in the world, what with tythes and ſubſcrip⯑tions it all goes I think." "Mr. Hoſkins," ſaid Mrs. Jones, "this is but an ungrateful return for all your bleſſings." "You are again at your bleſ⯑ſings," ſaid the Farmer, "but let every one work as hard as I have done and I dare ſay he will do as well. It is to my own induſtry I owe what I have. My crops have been good, becauſe I minded my ploughing and ſowing." "O farmer!" cried Mrs. Jones, "you forget whoſe ſuns and ſhowers make your crops to grow; but I do not come here to preach but to beg." "Well madam, what is it now? Flannel or French? or weavers, or a new church, or large bread, or cheap rice? or what other new whim-wham for getting the money out of ones pocket?" "I am going to eſtabliſh a Sunday ſchool farmer, and I come to you as one of the principal inhabitants, hoping your example will ſpur on the reſt to give." "Why then," ſaid the farmer, "as one of the principal inhabitants I will give nothing, hoping it will ſpur on the reſt to refuſe. Of all the fooliſh inventions, and new-fangled devices to ruin the country, that of teaching the poor to read is the very worſt." "And I, farmer, think that to teach good principles to the lower claſſes is the moſt likely way to ſave the country. Now in order to this we muſt teach them to read." "Not with my conſent nor my money," ſaid the farmer, "for I know it always does more harm than good." "So it may," ſaid Mrs. Jones, "if you only teach them to read and then turn them adriſt to find out books for themſelves. There is a proneneſs in the heart to evil which it is our duty to counteract, and which I ſee you are promoting. Only look round your own kitchen, I am aſhamed to ſee it hung round [11]with looſe ſongs and ballads. I grant indeed it would be better for your men and maids, and even your daughters, not to be able to read at all then to read ſuch ſtuff as this. But if when they aſk for bread you will give them a ſtone, nay worſe, a ſerpent, your's is the blame." Then taking up a pen⯑ny book which had a very looſe title, ſhe went on, "I do not wonder if you who read ſuch books as theſe think it ſafer that people ſhould not read at all." The farmer grinned, and ſaid it is hard if a man of my ſubſtance may not divert myſelf; when a bit of fun coſts only a penny, and a man can ſpare that penny, there is no harm done. When it is very hot or very wet, and I come in to reſt and have drank my mug of cider, I like to take up a bit of a jeſt book or a comical ſtory, to make me laugh. "O Mr. Hoſkins," replied Mrs. Jones, "when you come in to reſt from a burning ſun or ſhower, do you never think of him whoſe ſun it is that is ripening your corn? or whoſe ſhower is filling the ear or cauſing the graſs to grow? I could tell you of ſome books which would ſtrengthen ſuch thoughts, whereas ſuch as you read only ſerve to put them out of your head." Mrs. Jones having taken pains to let Mr. Hoſkins know, that all the genteel and wealthy people had ſubſcribed, he at laſt ſaid, "Why, as to the matter of that I do not value a crown; only I think it might be better be⯑ſtowed, and I am afraid my own workmen will fly in my face if once they are made ſcholars, and that they will think themſelves too good to work." "Now you talk ſoberly and give your reaſons," ſaid Mrs. Jones, "weak as they are, they deſerve an anſwer. Do you think that either man, woman, or child ever did his duty the worſe, only becauſe [12]he knew it the better?" "No, perhaps not." "Now the whole extent of learning which we intend to give the poor, is only to enable them to read the Bible, a book in which every duty is explained, every doctrine brought into practice, and the brighteſt truths made level to the meaneſt underſtanding. The knowledge of that book and its practical influence on the heart is the beſt ſecurity you can have, both for the induſtry and obedience of your ſervants. Now can you think any man will be the worſe ſervant for being a good chriſ⯑tian?" "Perhaps not," "are not the duties of children, of ſervants, and the poor expreſsly ſet forth in the Bible?" "Yes." "Do you think any duties are likely to be ſo well performed from any human motives, ſuch as fear or prudence, as from theſe religious motives which are backed with the ſanctions of rewards and puniſhments, of heaven or hell? Even upon your own principles of worldly policy, do you think a poor man is not leſs likely to ſteal a ſheep or a horſe, who was taught when a boy, that it was a ſin to rob a hen-rooſt or an or⯑chard? Will your property be ſecured ſo effec⯑tually by the ſtocks on the green, as by teaching the boys in the ſchool, that for all theſe things God will bring them into judgment? Is a poor fellow who can read his Bible ſo likely to ſleep or to drink away his few hours of leiſure as one who cannot read? He may, and he often does make a bad uſe of his reading, but I doubt he would have been as bad without it. And the hours ſpent in learning to read will always have been among the moſt harmleſs ones of his life."

"Well madam," ſaid the farmer, "if you do not think that religion will ſpoil my young ſervants, [13]I do not care if you do put me down for half a guinea. What has farmer Dobſon given?" "Half a guinea," ſaid Mrs. Jones. "Well," cried the far⯑mer, "it ſhall never be ſaid I did not give more than he, who is only a renter. Dobſon give half a guinea? Why, he wears his coat as thread bare as a labourer. "Perhaps," replied Mrs. Jones, "that is one reaſon why he gives ſo much." Well, put me down a guinea," cried the farmer. "As ſcarce as guineas are juſt now, I'll never be put upon the ſame footing with Dobſon neither." "Yes, and you muſt exert yourſelf beſides in inſiſting that your workmen ſend their children, and often look into the ſchool yourſelf to ſee if they are there, and reward or diſcourage them accordingly," added Mrs. Jones as ſhe took her leave. The farmer in⯑ſiſted in waiting on her to the door. When they got into the yard, they ſpied Mr. Simpſon, who was ſtanding near a little group of females, conſiſting of the farmer's two young daughters, and a couple of roſy dairy maids, an old blind fiddler, and a wo⯑man who led him. The woman had laid a baſket on the ground, out of which ſhe was dealing ſome ſongs to the girls who were kneeling round it, and eagerly picking out ſuch whoſe titles ſuited their taſtes. On ſeeing the clergyman come up, the fiddler's companion (for I am ſorry to ſay ſhe was not his wife) puſhed ſome of the ſongs to the bottom of the baſket, turned round to the com⯑pany, and in a whining tone, aſked "if they would pleaſe to buy a godly book." Mr. Simpſon ſaw through the hypocriſy at once, and inſtead of mak⯑ing any anſwer, took out of one of the girl's hands, a ſong which the woman had not been able to ſnatch away. He was ſhocked and grieved to ſee that [14]theſe young girls were about to read, to ſing, and to learn by heart ſuch ribaldry, as he was aſhamed even to caſt his eyes on. He turned about to the girl and gravely, but mildly ſaid, "young woman, what do you think ſhould be done to a perſon who ſhould be found carrying a box of poiſon round the country, and leaving a little at every houſe?" The girls all agreed that ſuch a perſon ought to be hanged;" "that he ſhould," ſaid the farmer, "if I was upon the jury." The fiddler and his woman were of the ſame opinion, declaring they would not do ſuch a wicked thing for the world, for if they were poor they were honeſt. Mr. Simpſon turning to the other girl, ſaid, "which is of moſt value the ſoul or the body?" "The ſoul ſir," ſaid the girl. "Why ſo?" ſaid he, "becauſe ſir, I have heard you ſay in the pulpit the ſoul is to laſt for ever." Then cried Mr. Simpſon in a ſtern voice, turning to the fiddler's woman, "are not you aſhamed to ſell poiſon for that part which is to laſt for ever? poiſon for the ſoul?" "Poiſon!" ſaid the terrified girl throwing down the book, and ſhuddering as people do who are afraid they have touched ſome⯑thing infectious. "Poiſon!" echoed the farmer's daughters, recollecting with horror the ratſbane which Lion the old houſe dog had got at the day before, and after eating which ſhe had ſeen him drop down dead in convulſions. "Yes," ſaid Mr. Simpſon to the woman, "I do again repeat, the ſouls of theſe innocent girls will be poiſoned and may be eternally ruined by this vile traſh which you carry about."

"I now ſee," ſaid Mrs. Jones, to the farmer, "the reaſon why you think learning to read does more harm than good. It is indeed far better that [15]they ſhould never know how to tell a letter, unleſs you keep ſuch traſh as this out of their way, and provide them with what is good or what is harm⯑leſs. Still this is not the fault of reading, but the abuſe of it. Wine is ſtill a good cordial, though it is too often abuſed to the purpoſe of drunkenneſs.

The farmer ſaid that neither of his maids could read their horn book, though he owned he often heard them ſinging that ſong which the parſon had thought ſo bad, but for his part it made him as merry as a nightingale.

"Yes," ſaid Mrs. Jones, "as a proof that it is not merely being able to read which does the miſchief, I have often heard as I have been croſſing a hay⯑field, young girls ſinging ſuch indecent ribaldry as has driven me out of the field, though I well knew they could not read a line of what they were ſing⯑ing, but had caught it from others. So you ſee you may as well ſay the memory is a wicked talent becauſe ſome people miſapply it, as to ſay that read⯑ing is dangerous, becauſe ſome folks abuſe it."

While they were talking, the fiddler and his wo⯑man were trying to ſteal away, but Mr. Simpſon ſtopped them and ſaid, "woman I ſhall have ſome farther talk with you. I am a magiſtrate as well as a miniſter, and if I know it, I will no more al⯑low a wicked book to be ſold in my pariſh than a doſe of poiſon." The girls threw away all their ſongs, thanked Mr. Wilſon, begged Mrs. Jones would take them into her ſchool after they had done milking in the evenings, that they might learn to read only what was proper. They promiſed they would never more deal with any but ſober honeſt hawkers, ſuch as ſell good little books, Chriſtmas carrols, and harmleſs ſongs, and deſired the fiddler's woman never to call there again.

[16] This little incident afterwards confirmed Mrs. Jones in a plan ſhe had before ſome thoughts of putting in practice. This was, after her ſchool had been eſtabliſhed a few months, to invite all the well-diſpoſed grown-up youth of the pariſh to meet her at the ſchool an hour or two on a Sunday even⯑ing, after the neceſſary buſineſs of the dairy and of ſerving the cattle was over. Both Mrs. Jones and her agent had the talent of making this time paſs ſo agreeably by their manner of explaining ſcrip⯑ture, and of impreſſing the heart by ſerious and affectionate diſcourſe, that in a ſhort time the even⯑ing ſchool was nearly filled with a ſecond company after the younger ones were diſmiſſed. In time, not only the ſervants, but the ſons and daughters of the moſt ſubſtantial people in the pariſh attended. At length many of the parents, pleaſed with the im⯑provement ſo viſible in the young people, got a habit of dropping in, that they might learn how to inſtruct their own families. And it was obſerved that as the ſchool filled, not only the fives-court and public-houſe were thinned, but even Sunday goſſiping and tea-viſiting declined. Even Farmer Hoſkins, who was at firſt angry with his maids for learning of thoſe merry ſongs (as he called them) was ſo pleaſed by the manner in which the pſalms were ſung at the ſchool, that he promiſed Mrs. Jones to make her a preſent of half a ſheep towards her firſt May-day feaſt. Of this feaſt ſome account ſhall be given hereafter, and the reader may expect ſome further account of the Sunday School next month in the Hiſtory of Heſter Wilmot.