attracted the notice of the master of the English servant, who was a young, wealthy nobleman, that had come to Naples for the benefit of his health. By his kindness he was enabled to devote a few hours a-day to learning. His father had been too poor to give him any education; but as he applied diligently he speedily made progress, and the patronage of the English gentleman and his friends procured for him a respectable office in the Government service. He discharged his duties in this higher sphere with the same zeal and honesty which he had shewn in a lower position; and just at the time when his former companion was banished he was appointed to an office which enabled him to sustain in comfort not only himself, but his beloved father, to whose lessons he was so much indebted for his success in life.

Adapted from Miss EDGEWORTH.

POOR, yet industrious, modest, quiet, neat, Such claim compassion in a night like this, And have a friend in ev'ry feeling heart. Warm'd while it lasts, by labour, all day long They brave the season, and yet find at eve,

Ill clad and fed but sparely, time to cool.
The frugal housewife trembles when she lights
Her scanty stock of brushwood, blazing clear,
But dying soon, like all terrestrial joys.
The few small embers left she nurses well;
And, while her infant race, with outspread hands,
And crowded knees, sit cow'ring o'er the sparks,
Retires, content to quake, so they be warm'd.
The man feels least, as more inur'd than she
To winter, and the current in his veins
More briskly mov'd by his severer toil;
Yet he too finds his own distress in theirs.
The taper soon extinguish'd, which I saw
Dangled along at the cold finger's end
Just when the day declined; and the brown loaf
Lodged on the shelf, half-eaten without sauce
Of sav'ry cheese, or butter costlier still;
Sleep seems their only refuge: for, alas!
Where penury is felt, the thought is chained,
And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.
With all this thrift they thrive not. All the care
Ingenious parsimony takes, but just

Saves the small inventory, bed, and stool,

Skillet, and old carved chest, from public sale.
They live, and live without extorted alms

From grudging hands, but other boast have none,

To soothe their honest pride that scorns to beg,

Nor comfort else, but in their mutual love.
But be ye of good courage! Time itself

Shall much befriend you. Time shall give increase.

Now goes the nightly thief prowling abroad
For plunder; much solicitous how best
He may compensate for a day of sloth
By works of darkness and nocturnal wrong.
Woe to the gardener's pale, the farmer's hedge,
Plash'd neatly, and secured with driven stakes
Deep in the loamy bank. Uptorn by strength,
Resistless in so bad a cause, but lame

To better deeds, he bundles up the spoil,
An ass's burthen, and when laden most

And heaviest, light of foot steals fast away.
Nor this to feed his own. 'T were some excuse,
Did pity of their sufferings warp aside

His principle, and tempt him into sin
For their support, so destitute. But they
Neglected pine at home; themselves, as more
Exposed than others with less scruple made
His victims, robb'd of their defenceless all.

COWPER.

169

INDOLENCE.

EVERY year there are thousands of persons who are taken to court, and tried, and punished for theft and dishonesty. If we were to ask any of them what it was that made them have recourse to dishonest practices, most of them would tell us that they began with being lazy. They thought it too much trouble to work hard for their living, when they might get more by stealing, with less labour, and so they learned to steal. And, besides, they will tell us that they learned to be indolent when they were young-that they disliked learning lessons, or going to school, or running errands, or doing work for their parents; and cared for nothing but sauntering about the streets, or lolling about the fields in the sun, where they met idle companions like themselves, who only laughed at them when they talked of giving up their