"But another scene opened to my view, which also much surprised me. As there were several small children about the house, they were all called up at evening to say their prayers. They repeated the Lord's prayer, with some additions. This made my young heart tremble, as I thought they were all Christians, and I knew _I_ never prayed in my life; and further, I knew not what to say. After all the rest had gone through their prayers, I was called up. My grandmother asked me if I ever prayed. I answered that I never did. She then told me to say the words after her, which I refused to do, from the feeling in my mind that the name of God was so holy and so great that I could not speak that word. I wept aloud as she enjoined on me this practice, and was finally excused. I very much dreaded to have night come again. For several nights I was excused, and listened to the others; but finally she insisted on my praying, telling me plainly that I should be _made_ to pray. That night she prepared a large whip and applied it to me severely several times before I would submit. At length I repeated the prayer, and from that time adopted the practice regularly. Through the influence of my sister, I was afterwards induced to thank my grandmother for the whipping, though I now think some milder measures had done as well." In those stern Puritan days, the whip was far from being an idle instrument in teaching the rebellious young the _fear_ of the Lord. Whatever was accepted as duty in religion, had no compromise with the diversity of taste and inclination in the families of the faithful. The reader, I think, will be unable to withhold his admiration from the naturalness of the question which the child asked in relation to _whom_ it was that the praying man was speaking; and he will hardly fail to see the difference between his first religious devotions and the free appeal of ancient Scripture in saying, "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve," as the choice was made for him, and the rod was virtuous enough to see it enacted. He remained at this place about two years, making considerable proficiency in learning, and, as he thought, some in religion. Among these, his childhood's musings, was the wonder that he never heard his father pray, and why his brothers, who were older and of more understanding than himself, never talked about God. "It is still a great cause of lamentation to me," said he in riper years, "that men of understanding dwell no more on the glories of the great Benefactor. In my opinion, a sense of religion should be early awakened, as first impressions are lasting, whether for good or for evil, and often appear in future years as the governing influence, as the foundation of future action. Ask the vilest man that whirls along in his career of evil, if