CHAPTER III.

SELECTIONS FROM THE HISTORY OF SANDFORD AND MERTON."

SECTION I.

Consequences of wrong education, &c.

1. In the western part of England lived a gentleman of great fortune, whose name was Merton. He had a large estate in the Island of Jamaica, where he had passed the greater part of his life, and was master of many servants, who cultivated sugar and other valuable things for his advantage.

2. He had only one son, of whom he was excessively fond; and to educate this child properly was the reason of his determining to stay some years in England. Thomas Merton, who at the time he came from Jamaica, was only six years old, was naturally a very good natured boy, but unfortunately had been spoiled by too much indulgence. While he lived at Jamaica, he had several black servants to wait upon him, who were forbidden upon any account to contradict him.

3. If he walked, there always went two negroes with him, one of whom carried a large umbrella to keep the sun from him, and the other was to carry him in his arms, whenever he was tired. His mother was so excessively fond of him, that she gave him every thing he cried for, and would never let him learn to read, because he complained that it made his headache.

4. The consequence of this was, that though Thomas had every thing he wanted, he became very fretful and unhappy. Sometimes he eat sweetmeats till he made himself sick, and then he suffered a great deal of pain, because he would not take bitter physic to make him well. Sometimes he cried for things that it was impossible to give him, and then, as he had never been used to be contradicted, it was many hours before he could be pacified.

5. When any company came to dine at the house, he was always to be helped first, and to have the most delicate parts of the meat, otherwise he would make such a noise as disturbed the whole company. When his father and mother were sitting at the tea-table with their friends, instead of waiting till they were at leisure to attend him,

he would scramble upon the table, seize the cake, and bread, and butter, and frequently overset the tea-cups: by these pranks he not only made himself disagreeable to every body, but often met with very dangerous accidents.

6. Frequently has he cut himself with knives, at other times thrown heavy things upon his head, and once he narrowly escaped being scalded to death by a kettle of boiling water. He was also so delicately brought up that he was perpetually ill! the least wind or rain gave him a cold, and the least exposure to the sun was sure to throw him into a fever. Instead of playing about, and jumping, and running like other children, he was taught to sit still for fear of spoiling his clothes, and to stay in the house for fear of injuring his complexion.

7. By this kind of education, when Thomas Merton came over to England, he could neither write, nor read, nor cipher; he could use none of his limbs with ease, nor bear any degree of fatigue; but he was very proud, fretful, and impatient.

8. Very near to Mr. Merton's seat lived a plain honest farmer, whose name was Sandford. This man had, like Mr. Merton, an only son, not much older than Thomas, whose name was Henry. Henry, as he had been always accustomed to run about in the fields, to follow the labourers while they were ploughing, and to drive the sheep to the pasture, was active, strong, hardy, and fresh-coloured.

9. He was neither so fair, nor so delicately shaped as Thomas; but he had an honest good-natured countenance, which made every body love him; was never out of humour, and took the greatest pleasure in obliging every body. If Henry saw a poor person who wanted victuals, while he was eating his dinner, he was sure to give him half, and sometimes the whole: nay, so very good-natured was he to every thing, that he would never go into the fields to take the eggs of poor birds, or their young ones, nor practise any other kind of sport which gave pain to poor animals, who are as capable of feeling as we ourselves, though they have no words to express their sufferings.

10. Once, indeed, Henry was caught twirling a squirrel round, which he had fastened by a crooked pin to a long piece of thread, but then this was through ignorance and want of thought; for as soon as his father told him that

the poor helpless squirrel felt as much or more than he would do, were a knife thrust through his hand, he burst into tears, and took the poor animal home, where he fed him during a fortnight upon walnuts and chesnuts; and when he was perfectly recovered, turned him out to enjoy liberty and the fresh air.

11. Ever since that time, Henry was so careful and considerate, that he would step out of the way for fear of hurting a worm, and employed himself in doing kind offices to all the animals in the neighbourhood. He used to stroke the horses as they were at work, and fill his pockets with acorns, for the pigs: if he walked in the fields, he was sure to gather green boughs for the sheep, which were so fond of him, that they followed him wherever he went. In the winter time, when the ground was covered with frost and snow, and the poor little birds could get at no food, he would feed the robin red-breasts. Even toads, and frogs, and spiders, and such kind of disagreeable animals, which some people destroy wherever they find them, were perfectly safe with Henry: he used to say they had a right to live as well as we, and that it was cruel and unjust to kill creatures only because we did not like them.

12. These sentiments made little Henry a great favourite with every body; particularly with the clergyman of the parish, who became so fond of him that he taught him to read and write, and had him almost always with him. Indeed, it was not surprising that Mr. Barlow showed so particular an affection for him; for besides learning every thing that he was taught with the greatest readiness, little Henry was one of the most honest, obliging creatures in the world.

13. He was never discontented, nor did he ever grumble, whatever he was desired to do. And then you might believe Henry in every thing he said; for though he could have gained a plum-cake by telling an untruth, and was sure that speaking the truth would expose him to a severe whipping, he never hesitated in declaring it. Nor was he like many other children, who place their whole happiness in eating; for give him but a piece of bread with some milk, cheese, or butter for his dinner, and he would be satisfied, though you placed sweetmeats and fruit, and every other nicety in his way.

14. He was never heard to curse or swear, or to make use of any vulgar and indecent language. Instead of wast

ing his leisure hours, as many idle boys do, in foolish games, skating, &c. he employed the greatest part of the time that he was not at work, in reading instructive entertaining books, and in laying up such knowledge as might be useful to him when arrived to manhood.

15. Mr. Merton and Mr. Sandford both sent their little boys to live with Mr. Barlow, who undertook the charge of their education. The day after Thomas came to Mr. Barlow's, as soon as breakfast was over, he took him and Henry into the garden? when he was there, he took a spade into his own hand, and giving Henry a hoe, they both began to work with great willingness.

16. "Every body that eats," said Mr. Barlow, ought to assist in procuring food, and therefore little Henry and I begin our daily work; this is my bed, and that other is his; we work upon them every day, and he that raises the most out of them, will deserve to fare the best. Now, Thomas, if you choose to join us, I will mark you out a piece ground, which you shall have to yourself, and all the produce shall be your own."

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17. "Na, indeed," says Thomas, very sulkily, "I am a gentleman, and don't choose to work like a ploughboy." "Just as you please, Mr. Gentleman," said Mr. Barlow; "but Henry and I, who are not above being useful, will mind our work. In about two hours Mr. Barlow said it was time to leave off, and, taking Henry by the hand, he led him into a very pleasant summer-house, where they sat down, and Mr. Barlow, taking a plate of fine ripe cherries, divided them between Henry and himself.

18. Thomas, who had followed, and expected his share, when he saw them both eating without taking any notice of him, could no longer restrain his passion, but burst into a violent fit of sobbing and crying. "What is the matter?" said Mr. Barlow, very coolly to him? Thomas looked upon him very sulkily, but returned no answer. "Oh! sir, if you don't choose to give me an answer, you may be silent; nobody is obliged to speak here."

19. Thomas became still more disconcerted at this, and being unable to conceal his anger, ran out of the summerhouse, and wandered very disconsolately about the garden; equally surprised and vexed to find that he was now in a place where nobody felt any concern whether he was pleased or not.

20. When all the cherries were eaten, little Henry said, F 2

"You promised to be so good as to hear me read when we had done working in the garden; and if it is agreeable to you, I will now read the story of the Flies and the Ants." "With all my heart," said Mr. Barlow; "remember to read it slowly and distinctly, without hesitating or pronouncing the words wrong; and be sure to read it in such a manner as to show that you understand it." Henry then took up the book and read as follows:

21. "In a corner of a farmer's garden, there once happened to be a nest of Ants, which, during all the fine weather of the summer, were employed all day long in drawing little seeds and grains of corn into their holes. Near them there happened to be a bed of flowers, upon which a great number of flies used to be always sporting and humming, and diverting themselves by flying from one flower to another.

22. "A little boy who was the farmer's son, used frequently to observe the different employments of these insects; and, as he was very young and ignorant, he one day thus expressed himself:-Can any creature be so simple as these Ants? All day long they are working and toiling instead of enjoying the fine weather, and diverting themselves like these flies, that are the happiest creatures in the world.

23. Some time after he had made this observation, the weather grew extremely cold, the sun was scarcely seen to shine, and the nights were chilly and frosty. The same little boy, walking then in the garden with his father, did not see a single Ant, but all the flies lay scattered up and down, either dead or dying. As he was very good-natured, he could not help pitying them, and asking, at the same time, what had happened to the Ants that he used to see in the same place?

24. The father said, "the flies are all dead, because they gave themselves no trouble about laying up provisions, and were too idle to work: but the Ants, who have been busy all the summer, in providing for their maintenance during the winter, are all alive and well; and you will see them again, as soon as the warm weather returns."

SECTION II.

The History of Sandford and Merton, continued. 1. Very well, Henry, said Mr. Barlow; we will now take a walk. They accordingly rambled out into the fields