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1 
 
 
THE 
 
 \£ 
 
 NOBLEMAN'S SON: 
 
 AN ALLEGORY. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 LEWIS COLBY 
 
 1846. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/noblemanssonalleOOnewy 
 
 i 
 
THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 
 
 I am going now to relate to you an 
 allegory. Do you know what an alle- 
 gory is ? It is a kind of story. I can- 
 not now stop to explain exactly how it 
 differs from other stories ; you will, 
 perhaps, yourselves understand, after 
 reading this one, or you can ask your 
 father or your mother, though I should 
 not be surprised if they should find 
 themselves a little puzzled in attempting 
 to explain it. At any rate, here comes 
 my all-egory. 
 
 THE ALLEGORY. 
 
 Once upon a time, there lived in a 
 most beautiful country, a great, wealthy 
 
 696723 
 
98 the nobleman's son. 
 
 Nobleman. He had a very large and 
 magnificent estate, containing fields, and 
 gardens, and groves, and little lakes and 
 rivers. This Nobleman, having no- 
 thing in particular to do, formed a very 
 singular design. He was very fond of 
 children ; he loved to have them about 
 him, and to see them enjoying them- 
 selves; and his design was, to collect 
 together on his estate, a great many 
 children, and to arrange all his build- 
 ings and grounds for their comfort and 
 enjoyment. He was going to have a 
 great family of children, many hundreds 
 in all, boys and girls; some very small, 
 and some much larger. 
 
 The children in this country were not 
 rude, noisy, and quarrelsome, as they 
 are generally, in this world; but they 
 were kind, and docile, and obedient. 
 So they could be trusted a great deal 
 by themselves. The Nobleman, there- 
 
99 
 
 fore, scattered them about in different 
 parts of his estate, each choosing some 
 pleasant place, where he would like to 
 dwell. The Nobleman made beautiful 
 little cottages for them, under the rocks 
 and among the trees, and on the shores 
 of the brooks and ponds. In some 
 places, there were little clusters of 
 these cottages, where those that were 
 most attached to each other, could live 
 together. They had walks, leading from 
 one part of the grounds to another, and 
 neat little bridges across the streams. 
 In some places, these streams spread out 
 into little sheets of smooth water, in the 
 midst of groves, or in pleasant vallies ; 
 and here there were little boats, with 
 sails and anchors, just large enough for 
 the children to manage, and wharves 
 for landing. In other places, the streams 
 came tumbling down the rocks, in the 
 midst of a wild, thick wood, and here 
 were little water wheels fixed, where 
 
100 
 
 the ingenious boys could make toys, or 
 sharpen their knives by the grindstones 
 turned by the water.* In many places, 
 too, there were seats fixed under the 
 trees, and bowers; and many groves 
 of fruit trees, and grapes trained against 
 walls, and berries of all kinds growing 
 in different situations. The Nobleman 
 had also procured a breed of little po- 
 nies, just large enough for the children 
 to ride ; these ponies fed in little fields, or 
 could be kept in stables, built just larg^ 
 enough for them ; and as they were very 
 gentle, they always allowed themselves 
 to be caught, and saddled and bridled by 
 the boys, whenever they wanted to ride. 
 Sometimes they harnessed them in little 
 chaises, or in carts, and then they rode 
 around the estate, or else carted earth 
 or stones to build terraces, or to mend 
 a wharf, or to open a new road through 
 some pleasant part of the grounds. 
 
 * See Frontispiece. 
 
101 
 
 In short, this Nobleman, when he had 
 once determined to make such a place 
 as children could be most happy in, left 
 nothing untried to accomplish the ob- 
 ject. It is true, he did not finish every 
 thing before he brought the children 
 into it, because he knew enough about 
 children, to be sure that they would 
 take a great deal of pleasure in carry- 
 ing on some of the works themselves. 
 So he left some roads to be made, and 
 some dams to be built, and even allow- 
 ed one little tract of land, on the borders 
 of a pond, to remain in its natural state, 
 with tall forest trees growing upon it; 
 and underneath the tangled underwood, 
 with great quantities of old decayed 
 trunks and branches, and trees over- 
 turned by the wind, and wild rocks. 
 He thought the children would like to 
 come in here, and build great fires of 
 the brushwood, and make their horses 
 pull out the stumps, and cut up the 
 9* 
 
102 THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 
 
 trunks of the decayed trees with their 
 little axes, and burn them; — and thus 
 see the gradual change from a wild and 
 tangled thicket, to a smooth and beau- 
 tiful grove, 
 
 There was, in fact, every variety of 
 scene, and every variety of enjoyment 
 to be found by the children, in these 
 delightful grounds. "And yet," said 
 the Nobleman to himself, "I must not 
 leave my children to spend all their 
 time in amusement. They will soon 
 become tired of that, and my little com- 
 munity will all become completely 
 miserable," So he made arrangements 
 for them to learn what would be useful 
 to them ; and he required them to de- 
 vote some time to thinking about their 
 duty, and examining their characters, 
 and finding out in what way they might 
 improve. The children liked this ; and 
 thus in a happy change, from serious 
 employments, to active and delightful 
 
103 
 
 play, they passed their time. Their 
 kind protector was always watching 
 around among them, — taking care of 
 the estate, and planning new employ- 
 ments and pleasures; for it was his 
 greatest happiness to see them making 
 improvement, and enjoying the happi- 
 ness he had provided for them. 
 
 Things went on thus very delightfully 
 for a long time, in this scene of happi- 
 ness. The children not only obeyed 
 their protector's commands, but they 
 took a great deal of pains to comply 
 with all his wishes. They showed, by 
 their smiling and happy countenances, 
 the joy they felt whenever he came 
 among them ; and every morning and 
 evening they used to go to him, carry- 
 ing all their wants and wishes, and lis- 
 tening to his advice and instructions. 
 They all loved one another too, and 
 lived in peace and happiness continu- 
 ally. I am sorry I have not time to 
 
104 
 
 describe some of the particular plans 
 they adopted for amusement ; — the 
 walks they took, — the plays upon their 
 playground — the terraces, and wharves, 
 and dams they built, — their rides, and 
 their sails, and the thousand curious 
 schemes which they formed, during the 
 time allotted for play in the pleasant 
 summer days. Then in the winter, too, 
 what pyramids and forts of snow they 
 built, — what beautiful sliding places 
 they found on the ponds and brooks ; 
 and often a party of them would skate 
 for hours, along the winding shores of 
 a stream, upon the smooth dark ice, 
 gliding along under the trees which 
 overhung its banks. You must not sup- 
 pose, however, my boy, that they spent 
 all their time in play. They had regu- 
 lar duties of study to perform, and they 
 took as much interest in these, in the 
 time of them, as they did in their plays. 
 Now it happened, that this estate was 
 
THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 105 
 
 bordered upon one side, by a wild region 
 of country, covered with forests, and 
 extending back to ranges of wild moun- 
 tains, which lay beyond it. There 
 were dark ravines, and frowning rocks, 
 and dangerous precipices among them ; 
 and also many poisonous plants, and 
 wild beasts were there. So that the 
 Nobleman had expressly forbid any 
 of the children going there. I am 
 sorry to say, however, that a few of the 
 children, who lived near the border, 
 began to feel some desire to cross over, 
 and see what there was in the wilder- 
 ness. Perhaps you think there was a 
 great wall there to keep the children in. 
 Oh no. The Nobleman did not wish 
 to keep his children near him by means 
 of walls. He did not wish to force a sin- 
 gle one of them to stay. So he built 
 no wall. In fact, the very boundary of 
 the estate on that side, did not seem to 
 be very strongly marked. It was a lit- 
 
106 
 
 tie brook, meandering through a field, 
 and it had several little channels, so 
 that it was not very certain exactly 
 where the boundary was; and some 
 of the boys, more careless than the rest, 
 used to play very near it. They thus 
 exposed themselves to temptation. Still 
 the Nobleman chose not to make any 
 wall to keep them in ; and it was not 
 necessary, on account of the wild 
 beasts, to make any wall, for they never 
 ventured down into the open country; 
 so none was built, for, as I said before, 
 the Nobleman chose to have the boys all 
 kept near him by love, and the principle 
 of obedience, not by bolts and walls. 
 
 Several of the boys, however, ven- 
 tured over this line. Two of them were 
 chasing a squirrel one day, and ran a 
 little way into the neighboring thicket. 
 When they came back, the other boys 
 near asked them how it looked in there; 
 and they said it looked very pleasantly 
 
THE NOBLEMAN S SON. 107 
 
 They said there were very pretty little 
 openings through the wood, and that the 
 moss was green, and the flowers new, and 
 beautiful; and on the whole, their ac- 
 count awakened some desire among the 
 other boys to go in a little way, — only 
 a little ivay, just to see how it looked. 
 They had no idea of going really off, 
 back into the wilderness, and among 
 the mountains. They were afraid of 
 the wild beasts, and frightful precipices 
 there, but they thought there could be 
 no harm in a little ramble in the border, 
 where the land was very similar to 
 some parts of their own safe and hap- 
 py garden. 
 
 In short, a few days after, a party of 
 them went over the line, and walked on 
 cautiously and timidly into the neigh- 
 boring wood. They found no difficul- 
 ties or dangers; and the wood, though 
 dense, was considerably open below, and 
 beautiful, and the ground was smooth; 
 
108 
 
 besides, there were many natural paths 
 through the thickets, which opened, like 
 avenues, in various directions, and seem* 
 ed to invite the boys on. They were 
 pleased with the novelty, and the 
 strangeness of the scene, and began 
 soon to walk with less hesitation and 
 alarm. 
 
 " This is a pleasant place, after all," 
 said one. 
 
 "Yes," said another, "I do not see 
 why we should be so strictly forbidden 
 to come here." 
 
 " There may be wild beasts, and ter- 
 rible precipices among the mountains," 
 said a third, " for aught I know, but it 
 is very plain there are none here." 
 
 So they walked on, rambling here 
 and there, gathering flowers and ber- 
 ries, and gradually allowing feelings of 
 distrust, and ingratitude, and insubordi- 
 nation, towards their kind benefactor, 
 to grow up in their hearts. 
 
109 
 
 As the boys thus went on, they found 
 one thing which they did not expect, 
 though it was in themselves, and not in 
 the strange place which they had wick- 
 edly ventured into. Instead of being 
 satisfied with what they had seen, and 
 desiring to return again, after a short 
 time, they grew less and less inclined 
 to go back, the longer they remained. 
 In fact, this is always the case with sin. 
 The longer we continue in it, the less 
 wish we have to give it up. The boys 
 began to wish to see more of the wood ; 
 and besides, they felt guilty and con- 
 demned, and did not like to see the face 
 of their friend and protector. They 
 were ashamed, too, to meet the other 
 boys, and acknowledge what they had 
 been doing, and bear the punishment 
 which they knew would be inflicted, 
 And as the season was mild and plea- 
 sant, they concluded, when night came, 
 to make themselves a little booth of 
 10 
 
110 
 
 branches, and stay there. So they built 
 their booth, and lay down upon a little 
 bed of branches. They had often done 
 this before, on their own grounds, but 
 then they were innocent and happy; 
 noiv they felt, when night came, guilty 
 and miserable. They had been accus- 
 tomed to go every night to their protec- 
 tor, to ask him favors, or to receive his 
 parting advice and instructions ; but 
 now they had no one to go to. They 
 were alone, — they were in the wrong, — 
 they had abandoned duty, — broken the 
 laws they ought to have kept, — deserted 
 their kindest and best friend, and they 
 could not, therefore, be very happy. Still, 
 they would not go back. Their hearts 
 began to be filled, more and more, with 
 repining and complaints, and yet they 
 had a still greater desire to go on in sin. 
 The gloom and wretchedness which 
 they felt at night, was lessened a little 
 in the morning; for when they woke 
 
SON. Ill 
 
 up, the sun was bright and pleasant; 
 the birds were singing around them, 
 and they began to think how fine a 
 time they should have that day, with 
 no lessons to get, no rules to keep, and 
 nothing to do but what they pleased. 
 
 " But may not the Nobleman send for 
 us," asked one of the boys, "to bring us 
 back and punish us V 1 
 
 This thought gave them some fear, 
 and they concluded to move on a little 
 farther. What folly ! They knew, very 
 well, they could not escape from him. 
 He was perfectly acquainted with every 
 part of the forest, and had runners, and 
 fleet horsemen, who could explore 
 every corner of it, whenever he should 
 give the word. Still, although they 
 knew this, they could not help feeling 
 safer a little farther off; so that instead 
 of being drawn back, as they expected 
 to be, after having been a short time in 
 the wood, they found that the longer 
 
112 THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 
 
 they staid, the more were they repelled 
 from it; that is, they wished to go far- 
 ther away, instead of coming nearer. 
 So they wandered on ; sometimes pleas- 
 ed with what they saw, or with some 
 new fruit or berry they found to eat ; 
 and sometimes filled with uneasiness 
 and anxiety about their condition and 
 prospects. 
 
 The Nobleman did not seem, at first, 
 to make any very decided efforts to 
 compel them to return. He sent one or 
 two of the other boys to them, to tell 
 them they were doing wrong, and to 
 call them back; but it did no good. 
 Some of them did not pay much atten- 
 tion to the messengers, others did not 
 believe they were sent ; and others 
 were led to reflect upon their sin, and 
 upon the miseries which they knew 
 were before them, if they did not 
 return; but still they could not make 
 up their minds to come back. So they 
 
SON. 113 
 
 all went on, rambling about in wild, 
 strange places, living on berries and 
 wild fruits, and sleeping, at night, in 
 their own little booths, or in such grot- 
 tos, and sheltered places in the rocks, as 
 they could find. They thus wandered 
 farther and farther away; the scenery 
 grew more and more wild, and after a 
 time, they found themselves approach- 
 ing the mountainous country. They 
 found many dangers and difficulties, 
 and these were increasing upon them 
 as they proceeded, but still they had no 
 disposition to return. They found, too, 
 what was not a little remarkable, that 
 by giving up their attachment to their 
 former protector, they had, at the same 
 time, lost their love for one another. 
 Quarrels, which were utterly unknown 
 in their own grounds, broke out among 
 them now. They became selfish, and 
 jealous, and . envious of one another. 
 You would hear a great many hard 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 words among them, and see many cross 
 looks. And thus, if there had been 
 nothing else to keep them from return- 
 ing, they would have been entirely 
 unwilling to go back, on account of the 
 state of their own hearts, which made 
 them utterly unfit to be again admitted 
 to the happy community they had left. 
 Their characters became bad in almost 
 every respect, and they were at length 
 totally estranged from their great friend, 
 and their once happy home. 
 
 Now, it happened one day, that the 
 Nobleman and his Son were seated 
 together upon a green bank, under a 
 hanging rock, and on the banks of a 
 beautiful stream, where they had been 
 planning a little mill, which they were 
 going to let the boys build upon a 
 waterfall near by; and after they had 
 finished their plans, and were sitting 
 still, enjoying the quiet, happy scene 
 around them, for it was about sunset, 
 
THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 115 
 
 on a pleasant summer evening, they 
 could not help thinking of the unhappy 
 boys who had gone astray. 
 
 "Father," said the son, after a short 
 t pause, "what do you suppose will be- 
 come of them ?" 
 
 "They are lost," said the father, 
 " Lost for ever." 
 
 " But is there no way to save them?" 
 
 "I have sent messengers after them, 
 and they would not return ; and then, 
 besides, they are spoiled in character, 
 so that if they were here at this mo- 
 ment, they could not be admitted 
 among us. They would introduce 
 quarrelling, and sin, and wretchedness 
 here. Then, again, it would not do to 
 receive them, even if they were fit to 
 come. Such an act of disobedience 
 we could not allow to go unpunished ; 
 if we should, how soon we should lose 
 all our authority. The children all now 
 feel, that it is a dreadful thing to 
 
 i 
 
116 
 
 disobey us m any thing; but if we 
 should let them disobey us, and wander 
 away, neglecting all their duties here, 
 and^ breaking all our laws, and also 
 committing all sorts of sin among them* 
 selves, and then allow them to come 
 back again at any time, all our authority 
 would be at an end. Thus, you see, 
 there are three insuperable difficulties 
 in the way of their ever being saved. 
 1. They do not wish to return. 2. They 
 are not fit to return. 3. We could not 
 safely receive them back again, if they 
 were, at least without some very serious 
 punishment. So that you see they are 
 lost, — lost for ever. They will wander 
 on, growing worse and worse, as they 
 go farther away. Some will fall a prey 
 to the ferocious beasts, which prowl 
 among the mountains; some will be 
 destroyed by poisonous fruits; others 
 will fall down precipices, or into fright- 
 ful pits ; and their evil passions, which 
 
117 
 
 are every day growing stronger and 
 stronger, will gain such a height, that 
 some will be killed in their quarrels. 
 No, there seems to be no help for them. 
 They must come to a miserable end." 
 
 The Nobleman's son was sad to think 
 that any of the children, who had once 
 been under his father's care, should be 
 lost. He thought much of them for 
 many days. "Must they be lost !" said 
 he to himself one day, as he was walk- 
 ing alone, in a solitary grove. " Can I 
 not do something to save them ? My 
 father said there were three difficulties 
 in the way. The first was, that they 
 were not willing to return. But then, 
 if I were to go myself after them, and 
 find them, and tell them we w r ant them 
 to be innocent and happy again, they 
 must listen to me, and return. I know 
 I could persuade some of them to come. 
 Then, again, my father says they are 
 not Jit to come back among us. That is 
 
118 
 
 true ; but then, perhaps, I could take 
 them under my care, and teach them, 
 and help them, and watch over them ; 
 and if any of them should really desire 
 to return to their duty, I think I might 
 help them to become fit to be here 
 again. But then their punishment ; — 
 my father said it would not be safe to 
 forgive them, after such disobedience 
 and sin. But is there no way to forgive 
 them § If I go for them, and bear a 
 great deal of hardship, and hunger, and 
 suffering, in bringing them back, per- 
 haps my father will forgive them for my 
 sake. At any rate, I will ask him. 
 
 He did ask him accordingly. 
 
 " Father," said he, " would not those 
 difficulties be avoided, if I should my- 
 self go away into the forest, and try to 
 bring back those poor boys. If I will 
 go and seek them, and try to save them, 
 and if I can persuade them to come 
 back humbled and penitent; and if I 
 
119 
 
 will teach them, and help them, and 
 take them here under my special care, 
 will you forgive them for all that is 
 past, for my sake." 
 
 "Yes," said the Father, "I will. I 
 think that would be safe. You must 
 suffer a great deal in finding them, and 
 in persuading them to return; and all 
 the boys, when they know how they 
 are saved, and find how much fatigue 
 and suffering it costs you, will not be 
 likely to imitate their example. Yes, 
 my son, if you will seek and save them, 
 I will forgive them for your sake. They 
 may come back here under your care, 
 and you shall keep them, and watch 
 over them, and help them. In fact, 
 they shall be yours, I will give you all 
 you can save, and will pardon them on 
 your account." 
 
 When the other boys heard that their 
 benefactor's son was preparing to go in 
 pursuit of their lost companions, they 
 
120 THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 
 
 were very much surprised; and when 
 the time arrived for his departure, they 
 all gathered around that limit of the 
 grounds which was towards the moun- 
 tains, to bid him farewell. He was as 
 well provided for the expedition as he 
 could be, though he knew he must meet 
 with much hardship and suffering, be- 
 fore he should come back. As he look- 
 ed forward into the gloomy forest before 
 him, and then surveyed the delightful 
 home which he was leaving; and espe- 
 cially, when he saw the expression of 
 sadness on the countenances of his 
 friends, and received their affectionate 
 farewells, which reminded him of the 
 warmth of their love to him, he could 
 not but shrink from the work he had 
 undertaken. But when he thought of 
 the happiness of saving some of the 
 poor wanderers, and bringing them 
 back to their former homes, and restor- 
 ing them to their former innocence; 
 
121 
 
 and especially, when he thought that 
 his father had promised freely to forgive 
 ill whom he should bring, he could 
 aesitate no longer. He summoned up 
 all his resolution, shook his father and 
 his friends by the hand, bade them good 
 bye, and walked away into the woods. 
 I cannot stop to describe all the re- 
 markable adventures he had, — his long 
 and weary journeys, — his hunger and 
 thirst, and all the other hardships he 
 met with. His feet were torn by the 
 brambles, and cut by the sharp rocks ; 
 sometimes he was attacked by the wild 
 beasts, and sorely wounded by them. 
 Still he persevered, and at last came 
 up to the remote fastnesses, and vallies 
 in the mountains, where the boys had 
 gone. He found them in a sad state of 
 guilt and misery. Some of them had 
 been killed, others had wandered away, 
 they knew not where, and those who 
 were left were hard-hearted, quarrel- 
 11 
 
122 
 
 some, and cruel ; they had forgotten all 
 about their once happy home, and had 
 no desire to return to it. 
 
 They did not know him, and when 
 he told them who he was, and that he 
 had come to save them, some of them 
 did not pay any attention to him ; 
 others said they did not believe he was 
 the Nobleman's son; others said they 
 did not wish to go back, — they were 
 well enough as they were ; some laugh- 
 ed at him, and mocked him, and threat- 
 ened to kill him if he did not go away. 
 
 There were a few, however, who lis- 
 tened to him ; and it was very curious, 
 that though they had felt no penitence 
 before, they were so struck with this un- 
 expected kindness, — the goodness, and 
 the love he showed, in coming so far 
 to seek and save them, — that when he 
 offered them forgiveness, they could not 
 refrain from tears. Their ingratitude 
 and sin, their hardness of heart, and 
 
THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 123 
 
 wicked disobedience, seemed brought 
 out very distinctly to view, simply by 
 being contrasted with his love, and 
 zeal, and kindness. These boys were 
 penitent. They nocked around him, — 
 they called him their Savior, and said 
 they should be rejoiced to return with 
 him, and be saved in the way he had 
 described. The rest laughed at them, 
 and tried to persuade them not to go 
 back ; and when they found they would 
 go, they beat them shamefully ; but this 
 only made them in the greater haste to 
 get away. The bad boys treated the 
 Nobleman's son, however, the worst. 
 Once he fainted, and almost died with 
 the wounds he received, but he would 
 not give up his work, and though faint- 
 ing and bleeding, he still kept near his 
 own. He called them his oicn : for his 
 father had given him all whom he would 
 save. 
 
 At length he collected together all 
 
124 
 
 who were willing to be his, and be 
 saved in his name, and they commenced 
 their return. He met with a great 
 many difficulties in bringing them home. 
 Some, who appeared to set out very 
 well, soon found that it was hard work 
 to mend their characters, and so they 
 gave up, and went back. Others fell 
 into sins of various kinds, which they 
 had lono- been accustomed to ; and their 
 kind leader had need of all his patience, 
 in teaching them their duty, and keep- 
 ing them together, and leading them 
 on. Sometimes they would wander 
 away from him, and then they would 
 get torn by brambles, or frightened, 
 and sometimes were wounded by wild 
 beasts. In such cases, he would re- 
 prove them for leaving him, and tell 
 them they must keep close by his side ; 
 if they were really penitent, he would 
 always forgive them, and treat them as 
 kindly after their errors as before. 
 
125 
 
 There is one thing, too, which I must not 
 forget to mention, and that is, that there 
 were several of the bad hoys, who, when 
 they heard what the Nobleman's son 
 said, and knew that a party were going 
 to return under his care, concluded to 
 go back themselves, though they would 
 not put themselves under him. Some of 
 the others urged them to join their 
 leader, so as to come in, at last, under 
 his care, and in his name. 
 
 " But no," said they, in reply, " we 
 are sorry for our fault in leaving the 
 gardens, and wish to go back. There 
 is no doubt the Nobleman will forgive 
 us, and take us in again, if we say we 
 are sorry. You may go on in your way, 
 and we will go in ours. We want to 
 have a little more liberty in going back, 
 so we will go by ourselves. We shall 
 certainly be forgiven if we only go 
 back." ' 
 
 Thus they went on. The Nobleman's 
 11* 
 
126 
 
 son was always with those who trusted 
 themselves to him; he took a great 
 deal of pains to teach them, and to im- 
 prove them in every respect. He set 
 an example of kindness, and forbear- 
 ance, and good will, and obedience to 
 his father's commands; and he helped 
 them in every way in his power to fit 
 themselves for being restored to the 
 happy society they had lost. 
 
 At last they arrived again at the lit- 
 tle stream which the boys had, so un- 
 happily for themselves, crossed, when 
 they first began to go astray. The 
 Nobleman's son came on before the rest, 
 and was greeted with smiles and con- 
 gratulations from all the children, who 
 had assembled to welcome him. They 
 stood in happy groups under the trees, 
 upon the banks of the stream. When 
 they saw, however, that he was pale 
 and thin, and that he had been wounded 
 and bleeding, a feeling of sadness, per- 
 
son. 127 
 
 vaded the whole assembly ; nothing 
 was said; but they all thought that it 
 was strange, that he should be willing 
 to suffer so much for them. 
 
 "Where are your boys, my son?" 
 said the Nobleman himself, who stood 
 among the children, looking as pleased 
 and happy as they. 
 
 " Here they are," said he, " all that 
 would come with me, I have brought. 
 I have kept them safely. They are 
 penitent; will you forgive them for my 
 sake?" 
 
 While he said this, his boys, who 
 stood around, looked up to their old 
 protector, with tears in their eyes ; but 
 they looked, and they felt, happy. They 
 knew they were forgiven, and they felt 
 their hearts overflowing with joy at the 
 thought of being admitted to their for- 
 mer home again, through the kindness, 
 too, of such a Mediator, — such an Inter- 
 cessor. They rejoiced that the son 
 
128 
 
 called them his, and seemed the more 
 attached to them, on account of the 
 very difficulties he had encountered, and 
 the sufferings he had borne for them. 
 Their old companions welcomed them 
 cordially, and said nothing to them 
 about the past, and they all prepared 
 to go together to their little homes. 
 
 Just then, however, they saw across 
 the boundary some other boys, coming 
 down cautiously and timidly out of the 
 thicket. They stopped to look at them. 
 They were those who chose to return 
 in their own way, and save themselves, 
 rather than be saved by the son. They 
 looked guilty and afraid. Some, how- 
 ever, a little more bold than the rest, 
 though scarcely daring to look the 
 Nobleman in the face, expressed their 
 hope that they should be forgiven too, 
 and admitted back into the garden. 
 
 "Who are those boys," said the 
 Nobleman. 
 
THE NOBLEMAN'S SON. 129 
 
 " I do not know," said the son, shak 
 ing his head mournfully as he spoke, 
 "they are not mine." 
 
 My little reader, do you wish to be 
 saved by Jesus Christ? He came to 
 this world on purpose to seek and to 
 save you, — to save you from your sins. 
 His father has given him all whom he 
 can save, for his own. Are you will- 
 ing to be his. If you are, go and join 
 him } and he will keep your eyes from 
 tears, your feet from falling, and your 
 soul from death; and present you at 
 last, before the throne of his glory,, with 
 exceeding joy. 
 
VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 LEWIS COLBY & CO., 122, NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORE. 
 
 HAPPY TRANSFORMATION; 
 
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 Rev. J. A. James's " Young Man from Home." 
 
 FACTS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Selected and Arranged by Joseph Belcher, D I). 
 
 FACTS FOR G-IRLS. 
 
 Selected and Arranged by Joseph Belcher, D.D. 
 These are very entertaining and useful, books for children — 
 inculcating religious Truth by interesting' Eacts, Anecdote3, 
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 THE WAY FOR A CHILD TO BE SAVED. 
 
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 EVERY DAY DUTY: 
 
 OK, 
 
 SKETCHES OE CHILDISH CHARACTER. 
 
 The Author, in this book, in plain and simple language, en- 
 ters into the sports and incidents of childhood, and would 
 show to children that they are always happiest "when doing 
 right. 
 
 SKETCH OF MY FRIEND'S FAMILY. 
 By Mrs. Marshall. 
 
 BLOSSOMS OF CHILDHOOD. 
 
 HOUSE OF THE THIEF. 
 
 VISIT TO NAHANT. GUILTY TONGUE. MY STATION. 
 
 WONDERS.QF THE T1P.P.P