Henry was the son of a merchant of Bristol: he was a very good-natured,
obliging boy, and loved his papa and mamma, and his brothers and
sisters, most affectionately; but he had one very disagreeable fault,
which was, that he did not like to be directed or advised, but always
appeared displeased when any body only hinted to him what he might, or
what he ought not to do; he fancied he knew right from wrong perfectly
well, and that he did not require any one to direct him.
He was the most amiable boy in the world, if you would let him have his
own way: he never heard any body say they wished for a thing, that he
did not run to get it for them, if it was in his power; and no one could
be more ready to lend his toys to his brothers and sisters, whenever
they appeared to desire them: but the moment he was told not to stand so
near the fire, or not to jump down two or three stairs at a time, not to
climb upon the tables, or to take care he did not fall out of the
window, he grew directly angry, and asked if they thought he did not
know what he was about--said he was no longer a baby, and that he was
certainly big enough to take care of himself.
His friends were extremely sorry to perceive this fault in his
disposition, for every body loved him, and wished to convince him,
that, though he was not a baby, he was but a child; and that if he would
avoid getting into mischief, he must, for some years, submit to be
directed by his papa and mamma, and, in their absence by some other
person who knew better than he did: but he never minded their advice,
till he had one day nearly lost his life by not attending to it.
A lady, who visited his mamma, and who was extremely fond of him, met
him in the hall on new year's day, and gave him a seven shilling piece
to purchase something to amuse himself.--Henry was delighted at having
so much money; but instead of informing his parents of the present he
had received, and asking them to advise him how to spend it, he
determined to do as he liked with it, without consulting any body; and
having long had a great desire to amuse himself with some gunpowder, he
began to think (now he was so rich) whether it might not be possible to
contrive to get some. He had been often told of the dreadful accidents
which have happened by playing with this dangerous thing, but he fancied
_he_ could take care, _he_ was old enough to amuse himself with it,
without any risk of hurting himself; and meeting with a boy who was
employed about the house by the servants, he offered to give him a
shilling for his trouble, if he would get him what he desired; and as
the boy cared very little for the danger to which he exposed Henry, of
blowing himself up, so as he got but the shilling, he was soon in
possession of what he wished for.
A dreadful noise was, some time afterwards, heard in the nursery. The
cries of children, and the screams of their maid, brought the whole
family up stairs: but oh! what a shocking sight was presented to their
view on opening the door! There lay Henry by the fireside, his face
black, and smeared with blood; his hair burnt, and his eyes closed: one
of his little sisters lay by him, nearly in the same deplorable
condition; the others, some hurt, but all frightened almost to death,
were got together in a corner, and the maid was fallen on the floor in a
fit.
It was very long before either Henry or his sister could speak, and many
months before they were quite restored to health, and even then with
the loss of one of poor Henry's eyes. He had been many weeks confined to
his bed in a dark room, and it was during that time that he had
reflected upon his past conduct: he now saw that he had been a very
conceited, wrong-headed boy, and that children would avoid a great many
accidents which happen to themselves, and the mischiefs they frequently
lead others into, if they would listen to the advice of their elders,
and not fancy they are capable of conducting themselves without being
directed; and he was so sorry for what he had done, and particularly for
what he had made his dear little Emma suffer, that he never afterwards
did the least thing without consulting his friends; and whenever he was
told not to do a thing, though he had wished it ever so much, instead
of being angry, as he used to be, he immediately gave up all desire of
doing it, and never after that time got into any mischief.