JACKBROWN and JAMES STOCK, were two lads apprentic'd at nearly the same time, to Mr. Williams, a Shoe­maker, in a small town in Oxfordshire; they were pretty near the same age, but of very different characters and dispo­sitions.

Brown was eldest son to a farmer in good circumstances, who gave the usual prentice fee with him. Being a wild giddy boy, whom his father could not well manage or instruct in farming he thought it better to send him out to learn a trade at a distance, than to let him idle about at home: for Jack always preferred bird's nesting and marbles to any other employment; and would trifle away half the day, when his father [Page 4] thought he was at school, with any boys he could meet with, who were as idle as himself; and never could be pre­vailed upon to do, or to learn any thing, while a game at taw could be had for love or money. All this time his little brothers, much younger than himself, were beginning to follow the plough, or to carry the corn to mill as soon as they were able to mount a cart-horse.

Jack, however, who was a lively boy, and did not naturally want either sense or good nature might have turned out well enough, if he had not had the misfortune to be his mother's favourite. She concealed and forgave all his faults.—‘To be sure he was a little wild,’ she would say, ‘but he would not make a worse man for that, for Jack had a good spirit of his own, and she would not have it broke, and so make a mope of the boy.’ The farm­er, for a quiet life as it is called, gave up all these points to his wife; and with them, gave up the future virtue and happiness of his child. He was a [Page 5] laborious and industrious man but he had no religion; he thought only of the gains and advantages of the present day, and never took the future into the account. His wife managed him entirely, and as she was really notable, he did not trou­ble his head about any thing farther. If she had been careless in her dairy, he would have stormed and swore; but as she only ruined one child by in­dulgence, and almost broke the hearts of the rest by unkindness, he gave him­self little concern about the matter. The cheese, certainly was good, and that indeed is a great point; but she was neglectful of her children, and a tyrant to her servants. Her husband's substance, indeed, was not wasted, but his happiness was not consulted. His house, it is true, was not dirty, but it was the abode of fury, ill-temper, and covetousness. And the farmer who did not care for drink, was too often driven to the publick-house of an evening, be­cause his own was neither quiet nor comfortable. The mother was always scolding, and the children were always crying.

[Page 6] Jack, however, notwithstanding his idleness, picked up a little reading and writing, but never would learn to cast an account: that was too much labour. His mother was desirous he should con­tinue at school, not so much for the sake of his learning, which she had not sense enough to value, but to save her darling from the fatigue of labour; for if he had not gone to school, she knew he must have gone to work, and she thought the former was the least tiresome of the two. Indeed this foolish woman had such an opinion of his genius, that she used from a child, to think he was too wise for a­ny thing but a parson, and hoped she should live to see him one. She did not wish to see her son a minister be­cause she loved either learning or goodness, but because she thought it would make Jack a gentleman, and set him above his brothers.

Farmer Brown still hoped, that though Jack was likely to make but an idle and ignorant farmer, yet he might make no bad tradesman when he should be remo­ved [Page 7] from the indulgences of a father's house, and from a silly mother, whose fondness kept him back in every thing. This woman was enraged when she found that so fine a scholar as she took Jack to be, was to be put apprentice to a shoemaker. The farmer, however, for the first time in his life, would have his own way. But being a worldly man, and too apt to mind only what is falsely called the main chance; instead of be­ing careful to look out for a sober, prudent, and religious master for his son, he left all that to chance, as if it had been a thing of little or no consequence. This is a very common fault; and fa­thers who are guilty of it, are in a great measure answerable for the future sins and errors of their children, when they grow up in the world, and set up for themselves. If a man gives his son a good education, a good example, and a good master, it is indeed possible that the son may not turn out well, but it does not often happen; and when it does, the father has [...]o blame resting on him; and it is a great point towards a man's [Page 8] comfort to have his conscience quiet in that respect, however GOD may over­rule events.

The farmer however, took care to de­sire his friends to enquire for a shoema­ker who had good business, and was a good workman; and the mother did not forget to put in her word, and desired that it might be one who was not too strict; for Jack had been brought up tenderly, was a meek boy, and could not bear to be contradicted in any thing. And this is the common notion of meek­ness among people who know no better.

Mr. Williams was recommended to the farmer as being the best shoemaker in the town where he lived, and far from a strict master; and without fur­ther inquiries, to Mr. Williams he went.

JAMES STOCK, who was the son of an honest labourer in the next village, was bound out by the parish, in considera­tion of his father having so numerous a [Page 9] family, that he was not able to put him out himself. James was in every thing the very reverse of his new companion. He was a modest, industrious, pious youth; and though so poor, and the child of a labourer, was a much better scholer than Jack, who was a wealthy farmer's son. His father, had it is true, been able to give him but very little schooling, for he was obliged to be put to work when quite a child. When ve­ry young he used to run of errands for Mr. Thomas, the curate of the par­ish; a very kind hearted young gentle­man, who boarded next door to his father's cottage. He used also to rub down and saddle his horse, and do any other little job for him, in the most civil obliging manner. All this so recom­mended him to the clergyman, that he would often send for him of an evening, after he had done his day's work in the field, and condescended to teach him him­self to write and cast accounts, as well as to instruct him in the principles of his religion. It was not merely out of kindness for the little good-natured ser­ervices [Page 10] James did him, that he shewed him this favour, but also for his readi­ness in the catechism and his devout behaviour at church.

The first thing that drew the minis­ster's attention to this boy, was the fol­lowing:—He had frequently given him halfpence and pence for holding his horse and carrying him to water, before he was big enough to be further useful to him. On Christmas Day he was surprised to see James at Church, reading out of a handsome new prayer book; he wondered how he came by it, for he knew there was nobody in the parish likely to have given it to him, for at that time there were no Sunday schools; and the father could not afford it, he was sure.

"Well James, said he, as he saw him when they came out, "you made a good figure at church to day; it made you look like a man and a christian, not on­ly to have so handsome a book, but to be so ready in all parts of the service. How [Page 11] came you by that book?" James owned modestly, that he had been a whole year saving up the money by single halfpence, all of which had been of the minister's own giving, and in all that time he had not spent a single farthing on his own diversions. "My dear boy," said good Mr. Thomas, "I am much mistaken if thou dost not turn out well in the world, for two reasons:—first, from thy saving turn and self denying temper; and next, because thou did [...] devote the first eighteen pence thou wast ever worth in the world to so good [...] purpose."

James bowed and blushed, and from that time Mr. Thomas began to take more notice of him, and to instruct him as I said above. As James soon grew a­ble to do him more considerable service, he would now and then give him six­pence. This he constantly saved till it became a little sum, with which he bought shoes and stockings; well know­ing that his poor father, with a hard family and low wages; could not buy them for him. As to what little money [Page 12] he earned himself by his daily labour in the field, he constantly carried it to his mother every Saturday night, to buy bread for the family, which was a pretty help to them.

As James was not very stout in his make, his father thankfully accepted the offer of the parish officers to bind out his son to a trade. This good man, howev­er, had not like Farmer Brown, the li­berty of chusing a master for his son, or he would carefully have enquired if he was a proper man to have the care of youth; but Williams the shoemaker was already fixed on, by those who were to put the boy out and if he wanted a master it must be him or none, for the overseers had a better opinion of Williams than he deserved, and thought it would be the making of the boy to go to him. The father knew that beggars must not be choosers, so he fitted out James for his new place, having indeed little to give him besides his blessing.

[Page 13] The worthy Mr. Thomas, however, kindly gave him an old coat and waist­coat, which his mother, who was a neat and notable woman, contrived to make up for him herself without a farthing ex­pence, and when it was turned and made fit for his size, it made him a very handsome suit for Sundays, and lasted him a couple of years.

And here let me stop to remark what a pity it is, that poor women so seldom are able or willing to do these sort of little handy jobs themselves; and that they do not oftener bring up their daughters to be more useful in family work. They are great losers by it e­very way; not only as they are dis­qualifying their girls from making good wives hereafter, but they are losers in point of present advantage: for gentle-folks could much oftener afford to give a poor boy a jacket or a waistcoat, if it was not for the expence of making it [Page 14] which adds very much to the cost. To my certain knowledge, many poor wo­men would, often get an old coat, or bit of coarse new cloth given them to fit out a boy, if the mothers or sisters were known to be able to cut it out to advan­tage, and to make it decently themselves. But half a crown for the making a bit of kersey, which costs but a few shillings, is more than many very charitable gen­try can afford to give—so they often give nothing at all when they see the mothers so little able to turn it to advan­tage. It is hoped they will take this hint kindly, as it is meant for their good.

But to return to our two young shoe­makers. They were both now settled at Mr. Williams's, who, as he was known to be a good workman, had plen­ty of business. He had sometimes two or three journeymen but no apprentices but Jack and James.

Jack, who, with all his faults, was a keen, smart boy, took to learn the trade [Page 15] quick enough, but the difficulty was to make him stick two hours together at his work. At every noise he heard in the street, down went the work—the last one way, the upper leather another: the sole dropped on the ground, and the thread he dragged after him, all the way up the street. If a blind fiddler, a ballad singer, a mountebank, a dancing bear, or a drum, were heard at a distance—out ran Jack—nothing could stop him, and not a stitch more could he be pre­vailed on to do that day. Every day, every promise was forgot for the present pleasure—he could not resist the smallest temptation—he never stopped a mo­ment to consider whether a thing was right or wrong, but whether he liked it or disliked it. And as his ill-judging mother took care to send him privately a good supply of pocket-money, that deadly bane to all youthful virtue, he had generally a few pence ready to spend, and to indulge in the present di­version whatever it was. And what was still worse than even spending his mo­ney, he spent his time too, or rather his [Page 16] masters time. Of this he was continu­ally reminded by James, to whom he always answered, ‘What have you to complain about? It is nothing to you or any one else; I spend nobody's money but my own’ That may be, re­plied the other, but you cannot say it is your own time that you spend. He in­sisted upon it that it was; but James fetched down their indentures, and there shewed him that he had solemnly bound himself by that instrument, not to waste his master's property. "Now," quoth James, ‘thy own time is a very valuable part of thy master's property.’ To this he replied, ‘Every ones time was his own, and he should not sit moping all day over his last—for his part, he thanked GOD, he was no parish 'pren­tice.’

James did not resent this piece of fool­ish impertinence, as some silly lads would have done; nor fly out into a vi­olent passion: for even at this early age, he had begun to learn of him who was meek and lowly of heart; and therefore [Page 17] when he was reviled, he reviled not again. On the contrary he was so very kind and gentle, that even Jack, vain and Idle as he was, could not help loving him, though he took care never to follow his advice.

Jack's fondness for his boyish and sil­ly diversions in the street, soon produ­ced the effects which might naturally be expected; and the same idleness which led him to fly out into the town at the sound of a fiddle, or the sight of a pup­pet show, soon led him to those places where all these fiddles and shows natu­rally lead, I mean the ALEHOUSE. The acquaintance picked up in the street was carried on at the Greyhound; and the idle pastimes of the boy soon led to the destructive vices of the man.

As he was not an ill-tempered youth, nor naturally much given to drink; a sober and prudent master, who had been steady in his management, and regular in his own conduct; who had recom­mended good advice by a good example, [Page 18] might have made something of Jack. But I am sorry to say, that Mr. Wil­liams, though a good workman, and not a very hard or severe master, was neither a sober nor a steady man—so far from it, that he spent much more time at the Greyhound, than at home. There was no order either in his shop or family. He left the chief care of the business to his two young apprentices; and being but a worldly man, he was at first dispo­sed to shew favour to Jack much more than to James, because he had more mo­ney, and his father was better in the world than the father of poor James.

At first, therefore, he was disposed to consider James as a sort of drudge, who was to do all the menial work of the family, and he did not care how little he taught him of his trade. With Mrs. Williams the matter was still worse; she constantly called him away from the business of his trade to wash the house, nurse the child, turn the spit, or run of errands. And here I must remark, that though parish apprentices are bound in [Page 19] duty to be submissive both to master and mistress, and always to make them­selves as useful as they can in a family, and to be civil and humble; yet on the other hand it is the duty of masters al­ways to remember, that if they are paid for instructing them in their trade, they ought conscientiously to instruct them in it, and not to employ them the grea­ter part of their time in such household or other drudgery, as to deprive them of the opportunity of acquiring their trade.

Mr. Williams soon found out that his favourite Jack would be of little use to him in the shop: for though he worked well enough, he did not care how little he did. Nor could he be of the least use to his master in keeping an account, or writing out a bill upon occasion, for, as he never could be made to learn to cypher, he did not know addition from multiplication.

One day one of the customers called at the shop in a great hurry, and de­sired [Page 20] his bill might be made out that minute: Mr. Williams, having taken a cup too much, made several attempts to put down a clear account, but the more he tried, the less he found himself able to do it. James, who was [...]itting at his last, rose up, and with great mo­desty, asked his master if he would please to give him leave to make out the bill, saying that, though but a poor scholar, he would do his best, rather than keep the gentleman waiting. Wil­liams gladly accepted his offer, and con­fused as his head was with liquor, he was yet able to observe with what neat­ness, dispatch, and exactness, the ac­count was drawn out. From that time he no longer considered James as a drudge, but as one fitted for the higher employ­ments of the trade, and he was now regularly employed to manage the ac­counts, with which all the customers were so well pleased, that it contributed greatly to raise him in his master's es­teem; for there were now never any of those blunders, or false charges, for [Page 21] which the shop had before been so famous.

James went on in a regular course of industry, and soon became the best workman Mr. Williams had, but there were many things in the family which he greatly disapproved. Some of the journeymen used to swear, drink, and sing very licentious songs. All these things were a great grief to his sober mind; he complained to his master, who only laughed at him: and indeed, as Williams did the same himself, he put it out of his own power to correct his servants, if he had been so disposed. James, however, used always to reprove them with great mildness indeed, but with great seriousness also. This, but still more his own excellent example, produced at length very good effects on such of the men as were not quite har­dened in sin.

What grieved him most was the man­ner in which the Sunday was spent. The master lay in bed all the morning, [Page 22] nor did the mother or her children ever go to church, except there was some new finery to be shewn, or a christening to be attended. The town's people were coming to the shop all the morn­ing, for work which should have been sent home the night before, had not the master been at the alehouse. And what wounded James to the very soul was, that the master expected the two apprentices to carry home shoes to the country customers on the Sunday morn­ing: which he wickedly thought was a saving of time, as it prevented their hin­dering their work on the Saturday. These shameful practices greatly afflicted poor James; he begged his master, with tears in his eyes, to excuse him, but he only laughed at his squeamish consci­ence, as he called it.

Jack did not dislike this part of the business, and generally after he had de­livered his parcel, wasted good part of the day in nutting, playing at fives, or dropping in at the public house: any thing was better than going to church.

[Page 23] James, on the other-hand, when he was compelled, sorely against his con­science, to carry home any goods on a Sunday morning, always got up as soon as it was light, knelt down and prayed▪ heartily to GOD to forgive him a sin▪ which it was not in his power to avoid; he took care not to lose a moment by the way, but as he was taking his walk with the utmost speed, to leave his shoes with the customers, he spent his time in endeavouring to keep up good thoughts in his mind, and praying that the day might come when his conscience might be delivered from this grievous burthen. He was now particularly thankful, that Mr. Thomas had former­ly taught him so many psalms and chap­ters which he used to repeat in these walks with great devotion.

He always got home before the rest of the family were up, dressed himself very clean and went twice to church; and as he greatly disliked the company and practices of his master's house, particu­larly on the Sabbath-day, he preferred [Page 24] spending his evening alone, reading his Bible, which I forgot to say the worthy clergyman had given him when he left his native village. Sunday evening, which is to some people such a burthen, was to James the highest holiday. He had formerly learnt a little how to sing a psalm of the clerk of his own parish, and this was now become a very de­lightful part of his evening exercise. And as one of the journeymen; by James's advice and example, was now beginning to be of a more serious way of thinking, he often asked him to sit an hour with him, when they read the Bible and talked it over together in a manner very pleasant and improving; and as this man was a famous singer, a psalm or two sung together, was a very inno­cent pleasure.

James's good manners and civility to the customers, drew much business to the shop, and his skill as a workman was so great, that every person desired his shoes might be made by James. Williams grew so very idle and negli­gent, [Page 25] that he now totally neglected his affairs, and to hard drinking added deep gaming. All James's care, both of the shop and the accounts, could not keep things in any tolerable order: he represented to his master that they were growing worse and worse; and exhorted him, if he valued his credit as a tradesman, his comfort as a hus­band and father, his character as a master, and his soul as a christian, to turn over a new leaf. Williams swore a great oath, that he would not be restrained in his pleasures to please a canting parish 'prentice, nor to humour a parcel of squalling brats—that let people say what they would of him, they should ne­ver say he was a hypocrite, and as long as they could not call him that, he did not care what else they called him.

In a violent passion he immediately went to the Greyhound, where he now spent, not only every evening, which he had long done, but good part of the day and night also. His wife was very dressy, extravagant, and fond of compa­ny; [Page 26] and spent at home as fast as her husband did abroad; so that all the neighbours said, if it had not been for James, his master must have broke long ago, but they were sure he could not hold it much longer.

As Jack Brown sung a good song, and played many diverting tricks, Wil­liams liked his company, and often al­lowed him to make one at the Grey­hound, where he would laugh heartily at his stories; so that every one thought Jack was much the greater favourite—so he was a companion in frolick, and foolery, and pleasure, as it is called; but he would not trust him with an inch of leather of sixpence in money: No, no—when business was to be done, or trust was to be reposed, James was the man: the idle and the drunken never trust one another, if they have common sense. They like to laugh, and sing, and riot, and drink together; but when they want a friend, a help in business or in trouble, they go farther a field; and Williams, while he would drink with [Page 27] Jack, would trust James with untold gold, and even was foolishly tempted to neglect his business the more from knowing that he had one at home who was taking care of it.

In spite of all Jame's care and dili­gence, however, things were growing worse and worse: the more James sav­ed the more the master and mistress spent. One morning, just as the shop was opened, and James had set every body to their respective work, and he himself was settling the business for the day, he found that his master was not yet come from the Greyhound. As this was now become a common case, he only grieved but did not wonder at it. Whilst he was indulging sad thoughts on what would be the end of all this, in ran the tapster from the Greyhound out of breath, and with a look of terror and dismay, desired James would step o­ver to the public-house with him that moment, for that his master wanted him.

[Page 28] James went immediately, surprised at this unusual message. When he got into the kitchen of the public-house, which he now entered for the first time in his life, though it was opposite the house in which he lived, he was shocked at the beastly disgusting appearance of every thing he beheld. There was a table covered with tankards, punch­bowls, broken glasses, pipes, and dirty greasy packs of cards, and all over wet with liquor; the floor was strewed with broken earthen cups, odd cards, and an EO table shivered to pieces in a quarrel; behind the table stood a crowd of dirty fellows, with matted locks, hollow eyes, and faces smeared with tobacco; James made his way after the tapster, through this wretched looking crew, to a settle which stood in the chimney corner. Not a word was uttered, but the silent horror seemed to denote something more than a mere common drinking bout.

What was the dismay of James, when he saw his miserable master stretched out on the settle, in all the agonies of [Page 29] death. He had fallen into a sit, after having drank hard best part of the night, and seemed to have but a few minutes to live. In his frightful countenance was displayed the dreadful picture of sin and death: for he struggled at once un­der the guilt of intoxication, and the pangs of a dying man. He recovered his senses for a few moments, and called out to ask if his faithful servant was come: James went up to him, took him by his cold hand, but was too much mo­ved to speak. "Oh! James, James;" cried he in a broken voice, "pray for me, comfort me." James spoke kindly to him, but was too honest to give him false comfort, as is too often done by mistaken friends in these dreadful mo­ments.

"James," said he, ‘I have been a bad master to you—you would have saved me, soul and body, but I would not let you—I have ruined my wi [...]e, my children, and my own soul. Take warning, oh, take warning by my miserable end,’ said he to [Page 30] his stupified companions; but none were able to attend him but James, who bid him lift up his heart to GOD, and prayed heartily for him himself. "Oh!" said the dying man, ‘it is too late, too late for me—but you have still time,’ said he to the half-drunken terrified crew around him. "Where is Jack?" Jack Brown came forward, but was too much frightened to speak. ‘O wretch­ed boy,’ said he, ‘I fear I shall have the ruin of thy soul, as well as my own, to answer for, Stop short!—Take warning—now, in the days of thy youth.’ ‘O James, James, thou dost not pray for me. Death is dread­ful to the wicked. O the sting of death to a guilty conscience!’ Here he lifted up his ghastly eyes in speechless horror, grasped hard the hand of James, gave a deep hollow groan, and closed his eyes never to open them but in awful eternity.

This was death in all it's horrors! The gay companions of his sinful plea­sures could not stand the sight; all s [...]unk [Page 31] away like guilty thieves from the late favourite friend—no one was left to Assist him but his two apprentices. Brown was not so hardened but that he shed ma­ny tears for his unhappy master; and even made some hasty resolutions of a­mendment, which were too soon forgot­ten.

While Brown stepped home to call the workmen to come and assist in remo­ving their poor master, James staid alone with the corpse, and employed those awful moments in indulging the most serious thoughts, and prayed heartily to GOD, that so terrible a lesson might not be thrown away upon him; but that he might be enabled to live in a constant state of preparation for death.—The re­solutions he made at this moment, as they were not made in his own strength, but in an humble reliance on GOD'S gracious help, were of use to him as long as he lived; and if ever he was for a moment tempted to say, or do a wrong thing, the remembrance of his poor dy­ing master's last agonies, and the dread­ful [Page 32] words he uttered, always instantly checked him.

When Williams was buried, and his affairs came to be enquired into, they were found to be in a sad condition. His wife, indeed, was the less to be piti­ed, as she had contributed her full share to their common ruin. James, however, did pity her, and by his skill in accounts, his known honesty, and the trust the creditors put in his word, things came to be settled rather better than Mrs. Williams expected.

Both Brown and James were now within a month or two of being out of their time. The creditors, as was said before, employed James to settle his late master's accounts, which he did in a manner so creditable to his abilities, and his honesty, that they proposed to him to take the shop himself. He assured them it was utterly out of his power for want of money. As the creditors had not the least fear of being repaid, if it should please GOD to spare his life, they generous­ly [Page 33] agreed among themselves, to advance him a sum of money without any securi­ty but his bond; for this he was to pay a very moderate interest, and to return the whole in a certain number of years James shed tears of gratitude at this testimony to his character, and could hardly be prevailed on to accept their kindness, so great was his dread of being in debt.

He took the remainder of the lease from his mistress and in settling affairs with her, took care to make every thing as advantageous to her as possible. He never once allowed himself to think how unkind she had been to him, he only saw in her the needy widow of his deceased master, and the distressed mother of an infant family; and was heartily sorry it was not in his power to contri­bute to their support, for it was not on­ly his duty, but his delight to return good for evil; for he was a CHRISTIAN.

James Stock was now, by the blessing of GOD on his own earnest endeavours, [Page 34] master of a considerable shop, and was respected by the whole town for his prudence, honesty, and piety. We will now proceed to shew how he behaved in his new station, and also what befel his comrade Brown.

In the mean time, other apprentices will do well to follow so praise worthy an example, and to remember, that the respectable master of a large shop, and a profitable business, was raised to that creditable situation, without money, friends, or connections, from the low beginning of a parish 'prentice by sobri­ety, industry, the fear of God, and an obedience to the divine principles of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

This sudden prosperity was a time of trial to poor James; who, as he was now become a creditable tradesman, I shall hereafter think proper to call Mr. James Stock. I say, this sudden rise in life was a time of trial; for we hardly know what we are ourselves till we be­come our own masters. There is in­deed [Page 35] always a reasonable hope that a good servant will not make a bad master, and that a faithful apprentice will prove an honest tradesman. But the heart of man is deceitful; and some folks who seem to behave very well while they are under subjection, no sooner get a little power than their heads are turned, and they grow prouder than those who are gentlemen born. They forget at once that they were lately poor and depen­dent themselves, so that one would think that with their poverty they had lost their memory too. I have known some who had suffered most hardships in their early days, become the most hard and oppressive in their turn; so that they seem to forget that fine considerate rea­son which God gives to the children of Israel why they should be merciful to their servants, "remembering" saith he, "that thou thyself wast a bondman."

Young Mr. Stock did not so forget himself. He had indeed the only sure guard from falling into this error. It was not from any easiness in his natural [Page 36] disposition: for that only just serves to make folks good natured when they are pleased, and patient when they have nothing to vex them. James went up­on higher ground. He did not give way to abusive language, because he knew it was a sin. He did not use his appren­tices ill; because he knew he had him­self a master in heaven.