difagreeable a fruit? The flave replyed, My good mafter, I have received fo many favors from your bounty, that it is no wonder if I fhould once in my life eat one bitter melon from your hands. This generous answer fo ftruck the mafter, that the hiftory fays, he gave him his liberty. With fuch fubmiffive fentiments, my friend, fhould man receive his portion of fufferings from God, from whom he receives fo bleffings. You in particular have received much good at the hand of God, fhall you not receive evil alfo ?

many

O Mr. Worthy, faid Bragwell, this blow is too heavy for me, I cannot furvive this fhock. I do not defire it, I only defire to die. We are very apt to talk moft of dying when we are leaft fit for it, faid Worthy. This is not the language of that fubmiffion which makes us prepare for death, but of that defpair which makes us out of humor with life. O, Mr. Bragwell, you are indeed difappointed of the grand ends which made life fo delightful to you; but till your heart is humbled, till you are brought to a ferious conviction of fin, till you are brought to fee what is the true end of life, you can have no hope in death. You think you have no bufinefs on earth, because thofe for whose fake you too eagerly heaped up. riches are no more. But is there not under the canopy of heaven fome afflicted being whom you, may yet relieve, fome modeft merit which you may bring forward, fome helpless creature you may

fave by your advice, fome perishing chriftian you may fuftain by your wealth? When you have no fins of your own to repent of, no mercies of God to be thankful for, no miseries of others to relieve, then, and not till then, I confent you fhould fink down in despair, and call on death to relieve you.

Mr. Worthy attended his afflicted friend to the funeral of his unhappy daughter and her babe. The folemn fervice, the committing his late gay and beautiful daughter to darknefs, to worms, and to corruption, the fight of the dead infant, for whofe fake he had refumed all his fchemes of vanity and covetoufnefs, when he thought he had got the better of them, the melancholy conviction that all human profperity ends in afhes to afhes and dreft to duft, had brought down Mr. Bragwell's felf-fufficient and haughty foul into fomething of that humble frame in which Mr. Worthy had wifhed to fee it. As foon as they returned home he was beginning to feize the favorable moment for fixing these ferious impreffions, when they were unfeasonably interrupted by the parish officer, who came to afk Mr. Bragwell what he was to do with a poor dying woman who was travelling the country with her child, and was taken in a fit under the church-yard wall? At first they thought he was dead, faid the man, but finding fhe still breathed, they have carried her into the workhouse till fhe could give fome account of herself. Mr. Bragwell was impatient at the interruption, which

was indeed unfeasonable, and told the man, he was at that time too much overcome by forrow to attend to business, but he would give him an anfwer to-morrow. But my friend, faid Mr. Worthy, the poor women may die to-night; your mind is indeed not in a frame for worldly bufinefs, but there is no forrow too great to forbid our attending the calls of duty.. An act of chriftian charity will not disturb but improve the ferioufnefs of your fpirit, and though you cannot dry your own tears, God may, in great mercy, permit you to dry thofe of another. This may be one of thofe occafions for which I told you life was worth keeping. Do let us fee this woman. Bragwell was not in a state either to confent or refufe, and his friend drew him to the workhouse, about the door of which stood a crowd of people. She is not dead, faid one, fhe moves her head. But fhe wants air, faid they all, while they all, according to cuftom, pufhed fo close upon her that it was impoffible fhe fhould get any. A fine boy of two or three years old ftood by her, crying, Mammy is dead, mammy is ftarved. Mr. Worthy made up to the poor woman, holding his friend by the arm: in order to give her air he untied a large black bonnet which hid her face, when Mr. Bragwell, at that moment cafting his eyes on her, saw in this poor ftranger the face of his own run-away daughter, Mrs. Incle. He groaned but could not fpeak, and as he was turning away to conceal his anguish, the little boy fondly caught hold of

his hand, lifping out-O stay, and give mammy fome bread. His heart yearned towards the child, he grafped his little hand in his, while he forrowfully faid to Mr. Worthy, It is too much, fend away the people. It is my dear naughty child, my punishment is greater than I con bear. Mr. Worthy defired the people to go and leave the ftranger to them; but by this time she was no ftranger to any of them. Pale and meagre as was her face, and poor and fhabby as was her dress, the proud and flaunting Mifs Polly Bragwell was eafily known by every one prefent. They went away, but with the mean revenge of little minds, they paid themfelves by abuse, for all the airs and infolence they had once endured from her. Pride must have a fall, faid one. I remember when fhe was too good to speak to a poor body, faid another; where are her flounces and her furbelows now? It is come home to her at laft. Her child looks as if he would be glad of the worst bit fhe formerly denied us.

In the mean time Mr. Bragwell had funk in an old wicker chair which flood behind, and groaned out, Lord forgive my hard heart! Lord fubdue my proud heart, "create a clean heart, O God, and renew a right fpirit within me." This was perhaps the firft word of genuine prayer he had ever offered up in his whole life. Worthy overheard it, and his heart rejoiced, but this was not a time for talking, but doing. He afked Bragwell what was to be done with the unfortunate woman, who now feemed to recover

go

faft, but fhe did not fee them, for they were behind. She embraced her boy, and faintly faid, my child what shall we do ?" I will arife and to my father, and fay unto him, father I have finned againft heaven and before thee." This was a joyful found to Mr. Worthy, who began to hope that her heart might be as much changed for the better as her circumftances were altered for the worse, and he valued the goods of fortune fo little, and contrition of foul fo much, that he began to think the change on the whole might be a happy one. The boy then sprung from his mother and ran to Bragwell, faying, Do be good to mammy. Mrs. Incle looking round, now perceived her father; the fell at his feet, faying, O forgive your guilty child, and fave your innocent one from ftarving. Bragwell funk down by her, and prayed God to forgive both her and himself in terms of genuine forrow. To hear words of real penitence and heart-felt prayer from this once high-minded father and vain daughter, was mufic to Worthy's ears, who thought this moment of outward mifery was the only joyful one he had ever spent in the Bragwell family. He was refolved not to interfere, but to let the father's own feelings work out the way in which he was to act. Bragwell faid nothing, but flowly led to his own houfe, holding the little boy by the hand, and pointing to worthy to affift the feeble steps of his daughter, who once more entered her father's doors; but the dread of feeing her mo