lJ^'.''V\\'VV\ 'VA\W\V\ , /VV\'VV\^. T H E : - 1 Blackbird's Nest. HENRY and George were two very engaging children. They had formed so strong an attachment to each other, that if Henry had fruit or cakes, he ran to offer them to George ; and when George had any thing given him that was nice, he nev r touched it till he had carried half of it to Henry. Their playthings seemed to be- long as much to one as to the other : in short, any one would have suppossd that they had A 2 been brothers, rather than mete playfellows. As a close intimacy subsisted between their parents, they were much pleased to observe the progress of this early friend- ship, George never failed, as he went to school, to call for Henry ; and Henry always de- layed his return, till George was ready to accompany him. They learnt their lessons toge- ther, and had no disputes, ex- cept who should be the best scholar. On holidays, they amused themselves with walking in the fields, where they gathered nosegays of wild flowers for their sisters, or sat on the grass to tell each other entertaining stories or repeat some pretty verses that their mammas had taught them. It happened, out day, that Henry being gone out with his father, George, in order to pass away the lonesome hours, strol- led by himself into the coun- a 3 6 try. As he was walking along the side of a hedge, he disco- vered a blackbird's nest, con- cealed in the thickest part of the bushes. He was not one of those cruel children, who take a malicious pleasure in depriving a poor bird of her dear little ones. He determin- ed to wait till they should no longer want the assistance of their mother, or she feel any attachment to them. How- ever, he did not neglect, the next day, to communicate the news of his treasure to Henry, and promised to take him to see the nest ; proposing that they should go every day to visit the birds, till their wings were grown, and that then, they should be divided between them. Henry waited impa- tiently till school was over, that George might show him the nest, and they went together several succeeding days, to ob- serve the progress of the nest- lings . 8 From the first moment that Henry beheld the nest, he con- ceived the idea of taking pos- session of it. It is difficult to imagine whence such an un- worthy thought could arise, for his friend had already vo- luntarily offered to share the spoils with him. Evil thoughts insinuate themselves so easily into the hearts of men, that they have need to be always on their guard against their ap- proaches. Children, especially, should be watchful of the first impulse to do wrong, as from their weakness they are prone to error. This attention to themselves is an easy task, be- cause they have their parents, 9 or teachers, at hand, to assist them with their advice. Nei- ther are they sufficiently aware, that a small fault in the begin- ning, may increase to an odious vice, which will corrupt their hearts, ^hd debase their cha- racters as long as they live. Henry took the opportunity, one morning, before the time that George usually called up- on him, of going to the place where the nest was : he found the little ones pretty well fledged, and forgetting at once the ties o : friendship, and the generosity of George, he seized his prey and carried it away with a trembling hand. e 2 When he had got half way home, he sat down under a tree to look at the young birds, and to hear them chirp. Then, for the first time, he was struck by the ' still small voice' of con- science, reproaching him for the base action he hadjust com- mitted. He felt greatly per- plexed what course to pursue. If he carried the r.est secretly home, he was certain of being discovered in a short time ; and his father would punish him severely for having deceived his playfellow, whose friend- ship he would lose besides. If he carried the nest back to its place, he was afraid of meeting George in his way thither. At last it came into his head, that he would throw the nest into a pond at no great distance, and make it sink to the bottom by loading it with stones. Whilst he was balancing up- on these different projects, a boy from a neighbouring vil- lage happened to pass by, who b 3 having seen the nest in his possession, offered him a dozen marbles in a bag, in exchange for it. This proposal seemed to him a lucky means of extri- cating himself from his diffi- culties : he accepted it without hesitation, and afterwards went to school, assuming a counte- nance of as much tranquillity, as if he had done nothing to deserve reproach. He was still at a loss to know what excuse to make to his friend for not having waited for him as usual in the morning. George, who had no suspicion, was easily sa- tisfied with such excuses as he was able to feign ; and after remarking that the afternoon was a half holiday, proposed taking that opportunity of go- ing to take their birds, and amusing themselves with them the rest of the day. They set out together as soon as they had finished their dinner. George had already planned the disposal of their 14 little family. What then was his concern, to see all his hopes disappointed!— when they ar- rived at the bush, some plun- derer had been there before them. Henry pretended equal surprise and vexation. After having spent some time in fruit- less lamentations, they return- ed ho e much out of spirits. With the design of withdraw- ing George's attention from his misfortune, Henry showed him his marbles, telling him that he had found them as he was going to school ; and that now, the best thing they could do was to play them. Here, my dear young friends, let us pause a few moments, to 15 consider how much the num- ber of Henry's crimes increased in one day.— In the morning he robbed his friend, by taking possession of that nest he had generously agreed to share with him. That action was follow- ed by the cruel thought of sub- mitting the harmless birds to a painful death ; in order to con- ceal his fault afterwards, he had recourse to deceit and falsehood to prevent suspicion, and lastly, he told a lie, by saying that he had found the marbles, when in fact he had received them in exchange for the birds. Such is the rapid progress c 2 of vice. Do not deceive your- selves : detection is certain : though you may conceal your faults for some time, yet there is a Power from which they cannot be hid, and which will not fail to bring them to light. However cautious you may be, you will betray yourselves, for you will not be able to invent so many falsehoods as will be requisite to hide your dissimu- lation from your 1 companions. The first slip of your memory will throw you into such con- fusion, as will naturally lead to discovery ; then follow dis- grace, shame, and the punish- ments you justly deserve. Let us now return to the story : George, whose chief gra- tification in finding the nest, was the expected pleasure of enjoy- ing the prize with his friend, grew reconciled to the disap- pointment when he saw that he no longer regretted it ; therefore they began to play together at marbles, and for some time c 3 the game went on very smooth- ly ; but at length, some other boys who w&re going that way, stopped to see them play ; one amongst these, after having looked attentively at the mar- bles, claimed them as his pro- perty ; and declared that he had lost them that very morning, tied up in a little bag. Henry laughed at his pretensions, and boldly maintained that he had bought them. But George, who had just heard him say that he had found them, re- proved him for denying the truth, and entreated him to re- store them to their owner. Henry refused to do so, and repeated that he had found them^ saying, that now they were his, and he would keep them. In this, however, he was mistaken, for the little stranger attacked him roughly, gave him a blow on the nose with his fist, took the marbles from him, and walked off, leav- ing him to make painful reflec- tions on the first consequences of his bad conduct. It becomes necessary to in- form my readers, that the little boy who claimed the marbles had really lost them, as he said ; and that he who had given them to Henry in -exchange for the birds had found them. But as he thought he could make a greater advantage of the birds than of the marbles, he had consented to the bargain as mentioned before. This boy was the son of very honest pa- rents, though they were ex- tremely poor. His name was Lubin, and he was well known for many miles round the coun- try, being employed in serving the neighbourhood with tag- gots, which he made himself of the dead wood that he was allowed to pick up in the fo- rest. The money he earned in this manner, he carried to his mother, towards the support of the family. As his parents could not afford to send him to school, he had plenty of lei- sure to manage his little trade, which he carried on with great industry and activity, Little Lubin having become master of the nest, examined the birds ; and finding them strong and well grown, ran with them to- wards the village where Henry and George lived, in order to try to dispose of the whole nest at some gentleman's house. It happened, that the first person to whom he offered them was the father of Henry, who knowing that, not with-. ► standing his poverty, he had established a good character for honesty, took the nest, and gave him half a crown. Lubin, who never before had so much money at once, ran with haste to carry it to his mother, who received it with great joy. Henry was not long before he returned home, holding his still bleeding nose with his handkerchief. When the fa- mily enquired what had hap- pened him, he replied, that a great boy had thrown a stone at him, because he had endea- voured to hinder him from beating another who was but a little child. Behold a new falsehood added to the list, al- ready too long!— His father, 23 by way of consolation for his misfortune, hastened to show him the nest of young black- birds, which he had just pur- chased. Never was astonish- ment greater than that of Hen- ry, when he saw that it was the same nest that he had stolen from his friend George, and that he had exchanged for the marbles, which had just been taken from him, and a good beating given him into the bar- g ain. It must be confessed that Divine justice was evident in the succession of these occur- rences, and that it pointed out the direct means of punishing the criminal. Henry became instantly sensible that his first breach of faith towards his friend, had led him into all the sorrowful circumstances and embarrassments in which he was involved, and that he had told a number of falsehoods only to increase* his own per- plexity. The sight of the nest made him shed a greater tor- rent of tears than the blow on fois nose. His father was at a loss what measure to pursue to ap- pease him: " Take courage, my dear son," said he, " it is only a swelled nose; you are not hurt in any other part, and I have something to show you that surely will give you pleasure. You have told me that your friend George has promised to share the nest that he has found between you: you, shall not be inferior to him in generosity : to-morrow, before you go to school, you shall carry him two of these birds, that I have just bought of a poor boy, and he will be glad to see that your affection for him is as strong as his towards you. This pnv pj&salw&S a new thunder-stroke for Henry. He perceived that it would be the surest means of exposing him to disgrace. This thought heavily oppress- ed him : he gave himself up to despair : he could not utter a word, and was every instant on the point of fainting. His father seeing him in this situation, imagined that he was more seriously hurt than at first appeared. He ordered him to be put to bed, and gave him such medicines as he judged proper. Henry was ill with- out pretence ; he could not sleep during the night, and he was burnt up with a scorching fever. ISiis father and mother began to be apprehensive for the con- sequences : they earnestly be- sought him to tell where he felt the pain, but he obstinately de- termined never to discover the cause of his indisposition, even if it cost him his life, The next day George com- ing, according to his accustom- ed habit, to accompany him to school, he was told that i enry kept his bed with a high fever. 28 This news filled his tender heart with sorrow, f e entreat- ed permission to be admitted in- to the chamber of his friend, which was readily granted. As soon as Henry saw him en- ter the room, he was seized with a violent palpitation of the heart, because he imagined that he had already seen the nest, and was come to reproach him for his ill-conduct. What a dreadful picture of a guilty conscience ? Who would be so mad as to commit a criminal action, if they could foresee the pangs that follow vice with un- erring certainty ! Who would dare to utter a falsehood, if they could be made sensible that, sooner or later, truth will be made known, and detect the imposture with disgrace. I only ask my readers to bring home to their own bo- soms, for one moment, the shame and remorse that over- whelmed enry, and I think I may be certain that they will never be guilty of any action that can deserve a blush. George, after having endea- voured to comfort his friend, left him to go to school. As he was leaving the house, he saw Henry's father in the parlour, who showed him the four birds, and said that he should feel pleasure in giving him the choice of two of the prettiest. George knew the nest at the first glance, and on the sudden impulse cried ou^, " Oh, how unworthy of Henry, to take away my nest, and then so shamefully maintain that he knew not what was become of it." "Fie, George," said Hen- ry's father ; " do you dare to accuse my son of so bad an action ? He is not capable of it, I assure you. — I bought the 31 nest yesterday myself, of a lit- tle boy named Lubin. It rejoiced the heart of George, to hear that Henry was innocent.... That it was his nest, he was certain, but it was possible that another might have taken it. He made an apology for his precipitation, and acknowledged that he had judged his friend too rashly. Henry's father then enquired whether he was with his son when he received such a vio- lent blow on the nose. " Yes, Sir, we were together at the time." " Well, what had he done, to draw upon himself such rough treatment? George made no reply:.. .he would not tell a falsehood, and he was 32 afraid, by a faithful recital, of exposing his friend, who he knew was guilty, at least, on that subject. Henry's father, surprised at George's confusion insisted the more earnestly on an exact answer to his question; and George, perceiving that he could not elude his enquiries, thought it most adviseable to relate what had happened with respect to the marbles, and the blow on the nose, which the little boy had given Henry. At this recital the father cri- ed out, "Is it possible, then that my son has deceived me! ...He told me that it was a great boy, who flung the stone at him because he tried to pre-- Y8Bf him from striking a little one. Come with me, George, I will — — As he was saying these words he heard a knock at the door. He opened it. It was Lubin, who had brought him a nose- gay of fie-ld flowers, as a mark of gratitude. " Ah, is it you, my good fellow?" cried Hen- ry's father ; " I am glad you are come at this critical mo- * 34 meat. This is the boy (turn- ing to George) of whom I purchased the nest." " Yes, I certainly sold it to yoa," said Lubin. " How did you hap- pen to find it?" said George. " I did not take it," replied the other ; " I had it in barter, with a young gentleman in a scarlet coat, for a dozen marbles that I found in a bag." This reply explained the whole matter to George in a moment. It was sufficient also to convince the father of Henry of his son's misconduct. He desired the two boys to accompany him to the chamber. Henry no sooner saw all three enter the room together, than he supposed that his de- ceit was detected: be jumped hastily out of bed, fell on his knees before his father, related the circumstances as they had really happened, and entreated forgiveness with tears and sobs. His father was too indignant to speak. George, touched to the quick to see the distress of one he had so dearly loved, threw his arms around his neck, saying, " My dear com- panion, I forgive you.- — I see that you are sufficiently pu- nished by the sufferings of your mind." "Ah," cried Henry, I would not en- dure them a second time for the whole universe. George united with him in beseeching his father to grant him forgive- ness, which he could not re? fuse to their earnest entreaties. He was satisfied with giving his son the best instructions for correcting his faults, and for guarding himself against the danger of committing anything of a similar nature in future. His advice had all the effect he could desire. Henry, after this memorable lesson, was dis- tinguished for noble and gene- rous sentiments, and became worthy of the friendship that George continued to feel for him the remainder of his life. T ME END, i OR THE INSUFFICIENCY OF \ illage Orphan ? I ^VVV\A^a\\V\AVVXV\VVVVVVVAVVVVV,VVtVVV\VVVWi.VVVVVV j£ l JUST PUBLISHED, \ I ' AS 1 !) FOR SALE AT I JOILVSOjY& WARNER'S B QK-STORE . Virtue and Innocence- l A POEM FOR CHILDREN. t I - * f URSULA, Human Attainments. j f WITH CUTS. I $ , i ^^WVV\AiVVVV\'*VWV\WVV\A\\WAV\VVlW'J(V\VVSV»> V,,