apology for the humble style in which her table was set out, which she owned could not be equal to what they met with at their own home; but hoped they would not be dissatisfied with her homely fare. The cakes she produced were excellent, for she spared no pains in making them.

18. As soon as breakfast was over, the farmer asked Mr. Denham to look at his orchard and grounds, and Mrs. Harris took all the pains she could to make the walk pleasing to the children. She showed them all her flocks which covered the fields, and gave them the prettiest lambs to play with. She then conducted them to the pigeon-house, where every thing was neat and wholesome. There were some so young that they were unable to fly; some of the mothers sitting on their eggs, and others, employed in feeding their young. From the pigeon-house, they proceeded to the bee-hive; but Mrs. Harris took care that they should not go too near it, for fear of being stung.

19. Most of these sights being new to the children, they seemed highly pleased with them, and were even going to take a second survey of them, when the farmer's youngest son came to inform them that dinner was ready. They ate off pewter plates, and drank out of delf ware; but Robert and Arthur, finding themselves so well pleased with their morning walk, dared not indulge themselves in illnatured observations. Mrs. Harris, indeed, had spared neither pains nor attention to prepare every thing in the best manner she was able.

20. Mr. Denham, now thinking it time to return home, desired the farmer to order the carriage. Mr. Harris strongly pressed Mr. Denham to stay all night, but the farmer was at last obliged to submit to his excuses.

21. On his return home, he asked his son Robert how he had liked his entertainment, and what he should hav thought of the farmer, if he had taken no pains to entertain them. He replied that he liked his entertainment: but had he not taken pains to accommodate them, he should have thought him an unmannerly clown. "Ah Robert! Robert! said Mr. Denham, this honest man came to your house, and, instead of offering him any refreshment, you made game of him. Which then, is the better bred, you or the farmer?"

22. Robert blushed, and seemed at a loss what answer to make; but at length replied that it was his duty to receive them well, as he got his living off their lands. "That

is true, answered Mr. Denham, but it may be easily seer who draws the greater profit from my lands, the farmer o I, He indeed feeds his horses with hay which he gets off my meadows, but his horses in return plough the fields, which otherwise would be overrun with weeds. He also feeds his cows and sheep with the hay; but their manure is useful in giving fertility to the ground.

23. His wife and children are fed with the harvest corn; but they in return spend some of their time in weeding the crops; and afterwards, some in reaping them and some in threshing. All these labours end in my advantage. The rest of the hay and corn he takes to market to sell, and with the produce thereof he pays his rent; from this it is evident, who derives the greatest profit from my lands."

24. Here a long pause ensued; but at last, Robert confessed that he saw his error. "Remember then all your life, said Mr. Denham, what has now been offered to your eyes and ears. This farmer so homely dressed, whose manners you have considered as so rustic, is better bred than you; and, though he knows nothing of Latin, he knows much more than you, and things of much greater use; you see, therefore, how unjust it is to despise any one for the plainness of his dress, and the rusticity of his manners. You may understand a little Latin, but you know not how to plough, sow grain, or reap the harvest, nor even to prune a tree. Sit down with being convinced that you have despised your superior." BERQUIN.

SECTION XV.

Calumny and Scandal great enemies to Society.

1. THOUGH Maria was of a tolerably good temper, yet she had contracted a most mischievous vice-that was calumny. Whenever she fancied she saw any thing amiss in others, though they were her most intimate friends, she seemed to take pleasure in publishing it to the world.

2. The inexperience of her age frequently led her to ascribe indifferent actions to improper motives, and a single word, was sufficient to raise suspicions in her breast, with which, as soon as she had formed them, she would run into company, and there publish them as facts.

3. As she was never at a loss for embellishments from her own fancy in order to make her tales appear more

plausible, it may easily be supposed what mischief such conduct was capable of producing.

4. In a little time, all the families in her neighbourhood were at variance, the seeds of discord soon after sprung up among individuals; and mutual confidence seemed to be lost in every place where Maria visited.

5. Matters at last were carried so far that every one shut their doors against her, as they would have done against any one tainted with the plague; but neither hatred nor humiliation could reform a vice, which custom and prejudice had so deeply rivetted in her heart.

6. This work of reformation was reserved for Angelica, her cousin, who was the only one left that would keep her company, and who lived in hopes that she should in the end be able to convince her of her ruinous conduct.

7. Maria went one day to see her cousin, and entertained her as usual with a long recital of scandal against their common friends, though she well knew that such tales were disagreeable to Angelica. "And now my dear, said Maria, having stopped for want of breath, your turn is come to tell me something. You see such a variety of company, that you surely must be acquainted with a number of anecdotes."

8. "My dear Maria, answered Angelica, whenever I visit my friends, it is for the sake of enjoying their company; and I am too sensible of my own interest to forfeit their esteem by exposing their defects. Indeed, I am sensible of so many errors in myself, and find it so difficult to correct them, that I have no leisure to contemplate the imperfections of others.

9. "Having every reason to wish for their candour and indulgence, I readily grant them mine; and my attention is constantly turned to discover what is commendable in them, in order that I may make such perfections my own." Before we presume to censure others, we ought to be certain that we have no faults ourselves.

10. Maria well knew how much she was the public object of aversion and disgust, and therefore could not help feeling the reproof of Angelica. From that day, she began very seriously to reflect on the danger of her indiscretion, and, trembling at the recollection of those mischiefs she had caused, determined to prevent their progress.

11. She found it difficult to throw off the custom she and long indulged of viewing things on the worst side. At

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last however, she became so perfectly reformed, that she studied only the pleasing parts of characters, and was never heard to speak ill of any one.

12. Maria became more and more convinced of the pernicious consequences which arise from exposing the faults of others, and began to feel the pleasing satisfaction of universal charity. My dear children shun the voice of scandal, and still more being the authors of it, as you would plague, pestilence, and famine. BERQUIN.

SECTION XVII.

Gray Hairs made Happy.

1. OPPOSITE to the house in which Juliet's parents lived, was a little opening, ornamented with a grass-plot, and overshaded by a venerable tree, commanding an extensive view before it. On this delightful spot, Juliet used frequently to sit in her little chair, while employed in knitting stockings for her mother.

2. As she was one day thus employed, she saw a poor old man advancing very slowly towards her. His hair was as white as silver, and his back bent with age; he supported himself by a stick, and seemed to walk with great difficulty. "Poor man, said Juliet, looking at him most tenderly, he seems to be very much in pain, and perhaps is very poor, which are two dreadful evils!"

3. She also saw a number of boys who were following close behind this poor old man. They passed jokes upon his threadbare coat, which had very long skirts and short sleeves, contrary to the fashion of those days. His hat, which was quite rusty, did not escape their notice; his cheeks were hollow and his body thin.

4. These wicked boys no sooner saw him, than they all burst out laughing. A stone lay in his way, which he did not perceive, and over it he stumbled, and had like to have fallen. This afforded them sport, and they laughed loud. ly; but it gave great pain to the old man, who uttered a deep sigh.

5. "I once was as young as you are, said he to the boys, but I did not laugh at the infirmities of age as you do. The day will come in which you will be old yourselves, and every day is bringing you nearer to that period. You will then be sensible of the impropriety of your present conduct.'

6. Having thus spoken, he endeavoured to hobble on again, and made a second stumble, when, in struggling to save himself from falling, he dropped his cane, and down he fell. On this the wicked boys renewed their laugh, and highly enjoyed his misfortune.

7. Juliet, who had seen every thing that had passed, could not help pitying the old man's situation, and therefore putting down her stocking on the chair, she ran towards him, picked up the cane and gave it him, and then taking hold of his other arm, as if she had been as strong as a woman, advised him to lean upon her, and not mind any thing the boys might say to him.

8. The poor old man looking at her very earnestly, "Sweet child," said he, "how good you are! this kindness makes me, in a moment, forget all the ill behaviour of those naughty boys. May you ever be happy." They then walked on together; but the boys being probably made ashamed of their conduct by the behaviour of Juliet, followed the old man no further.

9. While the boys were turning about, one of them fell down also, and all the rest began laughing as they had before done at the old man. He was very angry with them on that account, and as soon as he got up ran after his companions, pelting them with stones.

10. He instantly became convinced, how unjust it was to laugh at the distresses of another, and formed a resolution for the future, never to laugh at any person's pain. He followed the old man he had been laughing at, though at some distance, wishing for an opportunity to do him some favour, by way of atonement, for what he had done.

11. The good old man, in the mean time, by the kind assistance of Juliet, proceeded with slow but sure steps. She asked him to stop and rest himself a little, and told him that her house was that before him. "Pray stay," said she, "and sit a little under that large tree. My parents, indeed, are not at home, and therefore you will not be quite so well treated; yet it will be a little rest to you."

12. The old man accepted Juliet's offer. She brought him out a chair, and then fetched some bread and cheese, and good small beer, which were all the pretty maid could get at. He thanked her very kindly, and then entered into conversation with her. "I find, my dear, said he, "you have parents. I doubt not but you love them, and they