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The Friend : a religious and literary journal (Volume 16) online

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our worthy ancestors— liumility, self-denial,
and an entire dcdicatioJi of heart to the work
and service of our God ; a disposition truly
characteristic of the disciples of him, who de-
clared, ' My kingdom is not of this world:'
and thus may the enemy no longer be permit-
ted to rob and spoil us, but the language go
forth respecting us, ' Happy art thou, O Is-
rael, who is like unto thee, O people ; saved
by the Lord.'

For " The Friend."

The martin has the character of being a
vindictive bird, ready to avenge its own, and
its comrades' quarrels, when occasion offers.
The following anecdote tends to confirm this
trait ; and though it is more agreeable to re-
cord acts of kindness than of injustice, per-
haps the anecdote may not prove uninterest-
ing to the readers of " The Friend." We
will only add, that we have taken some pains
to authenticate it, and can rely on its cor-

A Friend in New Jersey had a pigcon-box
on the top of an out-house, in one of the apart-
ments of which a pigeon was sitting. This
place was visited by a number of martins, ap-
parently with the intention of locating them-
selves there for the season; but finding it
preoccupied, they raised a great clamour and
outcry, hoping to frighten the pigeon away ;
but with the usual attachment of a female
bird for her eggs, she kept possession. Not
succeeding in thus driving her off, they had
recourse to more vigourous measures, and
commenced an assault on her with their wings
and beaks ; but even this could not overcome
her ' mother's love;' and shrinking into her
nest, she meekly endured their insults, refus-
ing to forsake her charge.

'The martins were evidently foiled, and after
renewed and ineffectual efforts, desisted from
the attack, and settled on the roof, apparently
to hold a council on this unexpected state of
afiairs. After much chattering among them-
selves, they simultaneously flew to the barn-
yard, where they collected sticks, mud, &c.
and began with great zeal to build up the en
trance to the pigeon's nest, so that in less than
an hour they had it completely barricaded
and the poor pigeon a prisoner. They then

flew round with clamourous exultation at their
successful and malicious mischief, for about
half an hour, and then took their departure
never to return. The Friend, sympathising
with the imprisoned bird, destroyed the work
of the martins, and released the prisoner.


ready kindly contributed by some Friends,
and the kind assislaiice of other Friends, to
promote this desirable measure, is solicited ;
which may be remitted either to Edward
Pease, Darlington ; Peter Bedford, Croydon ;
Josiah Forster, Tottenham ; or to Thomas
Norton, Jun., Grange Road, London. — From
the British Friend.


Of the establishment of a School for the Board
and Education of the Children of those icho
profess with Friends in the south of France.

The state of many of the children of those
who profess with Friends, with regard to their
moral training and religious and literary in-
struction, has long appeared to some Friends
to call for an endeavour, in this way, to bene-
fit the little community in that land ; and the
subject has been brought closely under the
consideration of their Two Months' Meeting,
which has concluded to commence, on a small
scale, with a School for girls.

It appears there are ten boys and twenty-
three girls, between the ages of five and four-
teen ; and no means of instruction is open to
these but village schools; and, from the scat-
tered residences of their parents, it is not
practicable for them to attend the same Day-

Whilst the object in view is, under the Di-
vine blessing, to give a moral and religious
education in accordance with the principles of
our religious Society, it is believed that habits
of subordination, order in families, and other
improved habits in domestic life, may also be
promoted by the establishment of the propos-
ed Boarding-school.

The School is to be placed under the care
of a Committee of their Two Months' Meet
which is to report from time to time. 'i"he
expense of the establishment has been calcu
lated at about 200 francs per annum for each
child, if twenty children are received. Some
of the parents will be able to furnish either the
whole or part of this sum ; but an amount of
about £100 per annum at least must be ob-
tained, in addition, from Friends in England,
to meet the current expenses.

The Meeting for Sufferings has, in years
past, by the authority of the Yearly Meeting,
annually supported a school in those parts


SIXTH MONTH, 24, 1843.

id although that meeting wi

II do somethinj

towards the sum required, yet reliance is
placed for the remainder upon the liberality of
Friends. .

The present juncture is peculiarly suitable
for the comniencement of the undertaking,
from the presence of our Friends, John and
Martha Yeardley, in those parts, whose coun-
sel and assistance herein have been truly va
uable, and their interest in the measure has
induced them to give much attention to it
the establishment has also the prospect of
possessing very suitable superintendence. The
locality of Nismes appearing to offer superior
advantages, it is proposed to establish the
School there; and a house and premises,
adapted for the purpose, have been met with
in that city.

Donations and annual subscriptions are al-

The practice of taking down sermons in
short-liuiid, has, from the earliest period in
our religious Society, been discountenanced
by the more weighty and discreet portion of
its members, and as we conceive, for sundry
sufficient and substantial reasons. Among
others, that these exercises, in general, are
exclusively adapted to the particular occasion,
and to the states of those present, and derive
their chief excellency from the holy unction
— the Divine power and authority which ac-
companies, and consequently that they lose
much of the life, the quickening virtue, when
read in manuscript or in print. Notwith-
standing this being the case, it has so hap-
pened, that stenographers, mostly strangers,
or persons not members with Fi lends, have
availed themselves from time to time of op-
portunities to practise their art in this way,
and thus have been handed down to us, some-
thing like a continued series of discourses de-
livered by eminent ministers, from the days of
Barclay, Penn, and Crisp, to the time in
which we live. Perhaps we should not err in
concluding that this is a circumstance for con-
gratulation, rather than of regret, to the ex-
isting generation, as thereby we are furnished
with an exemplification, clear, indisputable,
not liable to cavil, of the kind of preaching,
the nature of the doctrine preached, sound,
ptural and plain-dealing, at those differ-
ent periods, so totally dissimilar to much
that has been intruded upon our religious as-
semblies within the last twenty-five years.

These remarks have been elicited in refer-
ence to the insertion to-day of a sermon deliv-
ered by that dignified and powerful minister
of the gospel Samuel Fothergill, nearly three-
fourths of a century ago. Of course it will
not be new to many of our readers, as it has
been long in print ; but it will be so to others,
especially of the rising generation. W'e have
uiven it a place in our columns at the instiga-
Tion of a valued Friend, who believes that,
considered in the light of a pathetic, pursua-
sive and awakening call to faithfulness and
dedication, the re-publication of it is pecu-
liarly fitted for uselulness at the present junc-

DncD, on the 7lh of tlie Sixth month, Thomas Pax.
SON, in the suvenly-lhird year ol' his age ; a niucli cs.
teemed member and elder of Buckmgham Monthly

Seventh and Carpenter Streets.





Price two dollai» per annum, payuhh in advance.

Subscriptions and Payments received by


Ko. 50, NORTH foohth street, up stairs,



(Continued from page 306.)

" She seems to be one of those who have
the law graven upon their hearts ; who do not
see the right intellectually, but perceive it
intuitively. For the preservation of the pu-
rity of her soul, in her dark and silent pil-
grimage through time, God has implanted
within her that native love of modesty,
thoughtfuiness, and conscientiousness, which
precept may strengthen, but could never have
bestowed ; and, as at midnight, and in the
storm, the faithful needle points unerring to
the pole, and guides the mariner over the
trackless ocean, so will this principle guide
her to happiness and to heaven. May no
tempter shake her native faith in this, her
guide; may no disturbing force cause it to
swerve from its true direction !

" As yet, it has not done so, and I can re-
collect no instance of moral obliquity, except
under strong temptation. 1 recall now one
instance of deliberate deception, and that, I
am bound to confess, with sorrow, was per-
haps attributable to indiscretion on my part.
She came to me one day dressed for a walk,
and had on a new pair of gloves, which were
stout and rather coarse. 1 began to banter
and tease her, (in that spirit of tun of which
she is very fond, and which she usually returns
with interest,) upon the clumsy appearance of
her hands, at which she first laughed, but soon
began to look so serious, and even grieved, that
I tried to direct her attention to something
else, and soon forgot the subject. But not so
poor Laura ; here her personal vanity, or love
of approbation, had been wounded ; she
thought the gloves were the cause of it, and
she resolved to be rid of them. Accordingly
they disappeared, and were supposed to be
lost; but her guileless nature betrayed itself,
for, without being questioned, she frequently
talked about the gloves, not saying directly
that they were lost; but asking if they might
not be in such or such a place. She was un-
easy under the new garb of deceit, and soon
excited suspicion. When it reached my ears,
I was exceedingly pained, and moreover doubt-
ful what course to pursue. At last, taking

her in the most affectionate way, I began to
ieli_her a story of a little girl, who was much
beloved by her parents, and brothers and sis-
ters, and tor whose happiness every thing was
done ; and asked her whether the little girl
should not love them in return, and try to
make them happy ; to which she eagerly as-
sented. But, said I, she did not, — she was
careless, and caused them much pain. At this
Laura was excited, and said the girl was in
the wrong, and asked what she did to dis-
please her relations. 1 replied, she deceived
them ; they never told her any thing but
truth ; but she one day acted so as to make
them think she had not done a thing, when
she had done it. Laura then eagerly asked
if the girl told a fib, and I explained to her
how one might tell a falsehood, without say-
ing a word ; which she readily understood,
becoming all the time more interested, and
evidently touched. I then tried to explain to
her the different degrees of culpability result
ing from carelessness, from disobedience, and
from infentitmal deceit. She soon grew pale
and evidently began to apply the remarks to
her own case, but still was very eager to know
about ' the wrong little girl,' and how her pa-
rents treated her. I told her her parents were
grieved, and cried ; at which she could hardly
restrain her own tears. After a while she
confessed to me that she had deceived about
the gloves ; that they were not lost, but hidden
away. I then tried to show her that I cared
nothing about the gloves ; that the loss of a
hundred pairs would be nothing, if unaccom-
panied by any deceit. She perceived that I
was grieved, and going to leave her to her own
thoughts, and clung to me, as if in terror of
being alone. I was forced, however, to inflict
the pain upon her.

" Her teachers, and the persons most imme-
diately about her, were requested to manifest
no other feeling than that of sorrow on her
account ; and the poor creature, going about
from one to another for comfort and for joy,
but finding only sadness, soon became ago-
nized with grief. When left alone, she sat
pale and motionless, with a countenance the
very image of sorrow ; and so severe seemed
the discipline, that 1 feared lest the memory
of it should be terrible enough to tempt her to
have recourse to the common artifice of con-
cealing one prevarication by another, and
thus insensibly get her into the habit of false-
hood. I therefore comforted her by the as-
surance of the continued affection of her
friends; tried to make her understand that
their grief and her suflTering were the simple
and necessary consequences of her careless or
wilful misstatement, and made her reflect
upon the nature of the emotion she experien-
ced after having uttered the untruth ; how

unpleasant it was ; how it made her fee!
afraid ; and how widely diflerent it was from
the fearless and placid emotion which followed

" It was easy enough to make her see the
consequences whifh must result from habitual
falsehood ; but difRcult to give her an idea of
all the moral obligations to be truthful ; per-
haps, however, the intellectual perception of
these obligations is not necessary to the per-
fect truthfulness of a child. *****
There is little fear of Laura's losing that
character for ingenuousness and truthfulness
which she has always deservedly possessed.

" There is more fear of her becoming vain,
for it is almost impossible to prevent her re-
ceiving such attentions and such caresses as
directly address her selfesteem. Some per-
sons only feel ; they never think ; and they do
a benevolent action to gratify some spontaneous
impulse of their own, or to give momentary
pleasure to another, rather than to promote
his real welfare ; and even some mothers
seem to think more of the pleasurable gratifi-
cation of their own blind feelings of attach-
ment, than of the good of their children.
Such persons, coming in contact with Laura,
will contrive in some way, by caresses, or by
gifts to show their peculiar interest in her.
She is very sagacious; she ascertains that
such visiters to the school are more interested
in her than in her blind companions ; and that
they remain near her most of the time. It is
difficult to prevent them making her presents,
and in various ways showing her marks of
sympathy, which she may attribute to some
peculiar excellence of her own. Then she
must be allowed to visit, to have acquaintan-
ces, and to converse with all people who come
in her way, and who have learned the manual
alphabet of deaf-mutes; m short, to run the
risk of the disadvantages' of society, in order
to secure its obvious and indispensable advan-
tages; and it will require constant care and
vigilance to prevent her perceiving herself to
be a lion, than which hardly a greater misfor-
tune can befall a woman. That she has been
so eflfectually preserved from this, thus far, is
owing to the watchful care, and almost con-
stant attendance of her teachers; and now that,
by the liberality of individuals, she has the
entire time and services of a young lady of
great intelligence, who is devotedly attached
to her, it is to be hoped, that she may long
preserve her present amiable simplicity of
character. *****

" The following conversation, taken from
my minutes, made at the time, will give an
idea of the course of her thoughts on spiritual
subjects. During the past year, one of our
pupils died, after a severe illness, which caused
much anxiety in our household. Laura, of



course, knew of it, and lier inquiries after iiiin
were as frequent and as correct as those of
any one. After his death, I proceeded to
break it to her. I asked her if she knew tiiat
little Orin was very sick. She said, yes. He
was very ill yesterday forenoon, said I, and I
knew he could not live long. At this she
looked much distressed, and seemed to ponder
upon it deeply. I paused awhile, and then told
her that ' Orin died last night.' At the word
died, she seemed to shrink within herself, —
there was a contraction of the hands, — a half
spasm, and her countenance indicated not ex-
actly grief, but rather pain and amazement ;
her lips quivered, and then she seemed about
to cry, but restrained her tears. She had
known something of death before; she had
lost friends, and she knew about dead animals;
but this was the only case which had occurred
in the house. She asked about death, and I
said, ' When you are asleep does your body
feel?' ' JYo ; if I am very asleep.' Why?
' I do not know.' I tried to explain, and used
the word soul. She said, ' What is soul T
That which thinks, and feels, and hopes, and
loves, said 1 ; to which she added interroga-
tively, ' and aches?' Here I was perplexed at
the threshold, by her inquiring spirit seizing
upon and confounding material and immaterial
processes. I tried to explain to her that any
injury of the body was perceived by the soul;
but I was clearly beyond her depth, although
she was all eagerness to go on. 1 think I
made her comprehend the difference between
material and spiritual operations. After a
while she asked, ' Where is Orin's think V It
lias left his body and gone away. ' Where V
To God in heaeen. She replied, ' Where 1
up?' [pointing up.] Yes! ' Will it come
back?' No! ' IFAy,' said she. Because his
body was very sick, and died, and soul cannot
stay in a dead body. After a minute she said,
' Is breath dead ? is blood dead ? Your horse
died, where is his sotd ?' I was obliged to give
the very unsatisfactory answer, that animals
have no souls. She said, ' Cat does kill a
mouse. Why? has she got soul ?' Ans. 'Ani-
mals do not know about souls, they do not
think like us.' At this moment a fly alighted
upon her hand, and she said, ' Have fies
souls ?' I said no. ' Why did not God give
them souls ?' Alas, for the poverty of her lan-
guage, I could hardly make her understand
how much of life and happiness God bestows
even upon a little fly.

" Soon she said, ' Can God see ? Has He
eyes ?' I replied, by asking her. Can you see
your mother in Hanover. ' No!' But, said I,
you can see her with your mind, you can
think about her, and love her. ' Yes,' said
she. So, replied I, God can see you, and all
people, and know all they do ; and He thinks
about them, and loves them, and He will love
you and all people if they are gentle, and
kind, and good, and love one another. ' Can
He cry?' said she. No I the body cries be-
cause the soul is sad ; but God has no body.
I then tried to make her think of her spiritual
existence as separate from her bodily one ; but
she seemed to dislike to do so, and said eager-
ly, ' 1 shall not die.' Some would have said,
she lefcrred to her soul, but she did not ; she

was shrinking at the thought of physical death,
and I turned the conversation. 1 could not
have the heart to give the poor child the
baneful knowledge, before 1 had prepared the
antidote. It seems to me that she needs not
the fear of death to keep her in the path of

* * * * It is but thirteen
years since Laura was born ; she has hardly
lived half that number, yet, in that time, what
an important mission has she fulfilled ! how
much has she done for herself? iiow much has
she taught others? Deprived of most of the
varied stimuli furnished by the senses, and fed
by the scantiest crumbs of knowledge, her soul
has nevertheless put forth the buds of the
brightest virtues, and given indication of its
pure origin and its high destination.

" Respectfully submitted,

" S. G. Howe."


If you would have friends, you must show
yourselves friendly. I once had a neighbour,
who, though a clever man, came to me one
hay-day, and said, " Squire White, I want
you to come and get your geese away."
" Why," said I, " what are my geese doing ?"
" They pick my pigs' ears when they are eat-
ing, and drive them away, and I will not have
it." " What can I do?" said I. '• You must
yoke them." "That 1 have not time to do
now," said I. " I do not see but they must
run." " If you do not take care of them, I
shall ; what do you say, Sq\iire VVhite?" " 1
cannot take cure of them now ; but I will pay
you for all damages." " Well," said he,
" you will find that a hard thing, I guess." So
off he went, and I heard a terrible squalling
among the geese. The next news from the
geese was, that three of them were missing.
-My children went and found them terribly
mangled, and dead, and thrown into the bush-
es. " Now," said I, " all keep still, and let
me punish him." In a few days the man's
hogs broke into my corn ; I saw them, but let
them remain a long time. At last I drove
them all out, and picked up the corn which
they had torn down, and fed them with it in
the road. By this time the man came in great
haste after them. " Have you seen any thing
of my hogs?" said he. "Yes, you will find
them yonder, eating some corn which they
tore down in my field" " In your field ?"
" Yes," said I, " hogs love corn, you know, —
they were made to eat." " How much mis-
chief have they done ?" " O, not much," said
1. Weil, off' he went to look, and estimated
the damage at a bushel and a half of corn.
" O no," said I, " it can't be. " Yes," said
he, " and I will pay you every cent of dam-
age." " No," I replied, " you shall pay
nothing. My geese have been a great trouble
to you." The man blushed, and went home.
The next winter, when we came to settle, he
determined to pay me for my corn. " No,"
said I, " I shall take nothing."

After some talk, we parted ; and in a day
or two I met him in the road, and fell into
conversation in the most friendly manner.
But when I started on, he seemed loath to

nioxc, and I paused. For a moment both of
us were silent. At la«t, he said, " I have
something labouring in my mind. 'J'hose
geese. I killed three of your geese, and shall
j never rest till you know how I feel. I am
sorry." And the tears came in his eyes. " O
well," said I, " never mind, I suppose my geese
were provoking."

I never took any thing of him for it ; but
whenever my cattle broke into his field after
this, he seemed glad, because he could show
how patient he could be.

Now, conquer yourself, and you can con-
quer with kindness, where you can conquer in
no other way. — Vermont Chronicle.


The British Farmer's Magazine for Janu-
ary, 1843, contains the following account of
a model farm, cultivated chiefly by boys, who
are pursuing a course of education in scientific
agriculture : —

" Perhaps the most successful example of
the ca|)abilities of land, under proper manage-
ment, in Ireland, and of the immense crops
which can be raised, may be seen on the Na-
tional Model Farm, under the Board of Edu-
cation, at Glasnevin, near Dublin. This farm,
strictly conducted on the improved system of
green cropping and house-feeding, contains
fifty-two statute acres, and there were kept
on it, during the year, twenty-two head of cat-
tle, and three horses. It supplies, on an aver-
age, ninety persons during the year with farm
produce, such as milk, butter, potatoes, and
vegetables of vaiious kinds; and furnishes the
farming establishment with pork, besides a
number of private families with the above
articles. A considerable quantity of vegeta-
bles are carried to market, and all kinds of
grain, which is abundant. There is at present
a crop of oats upon the farm, the produce of
fourteen and a half British acres. It is se-
cured in eight stacks, and is estimated by the
best judges to be equal to the average produce
of fifty acres. It stood perfectly close upon
the ground, average six to seven and a half
feet in height, the head and ear correspond-
ing ; the other crops, potatoes, turnips, Italian
rye grass, &c., of like quality.

The manager conducts the farm on his own
account ; pays £257 7*. Sd. per annum of
rent, besides other expenses, amounting in all
to upwards of £400 per year, and we are
informed, and believe, that he realizes a very
handsome annual sum from it besides. He
labours and manages it almost exclusively by
a number of boys, agricultural pupils and
teachers, who are there in training in the .sci-
ence and practice of agriculture. As a test
of what land is capable of producing when
brought to its highest point, there are few

Online LibraryRobert SmithThe Friend : a religious and literary journal (Volume 16) → online text (page 116 of 154)