these conveniences you speak of; because, after all, they will not hinder a person from being cold, but exercise will warm him in an instant.

16. T. But then it is not proper for gentlemen to do the same kind of work with the common people.

17. H. But is it not proper for a gentleman to have his body stout and hardy?

18. T. To be sure it is.

19. H. Why then he must sometimes labour and use his limbs, or else he will never be able to do it.

20. T. What, cannot a person be strong without working?

21. H. You can judge for yourself. You very often have fine young gentlemen at your father's house, and are any of them as strong as the sons of the farmer's in the neighbourhood, that are always used to handle a hoe, a spade, a fork and other tools?

22. T. Indeed I believe that is true, for I think I am become stronger myself, since I have learned to divert myself in Mr. Barlow's garden.

23. As they were conversing in this manner, a little boy came singing along, with a bundle of sticks at his back, and as soon as Henry saw him he recollected him, and cried out, As sure as I am alive, here is John Smithers, the little ragged boy that you gave the clothes to in the summer; he lives, I dare say, in the neighbourhood, and either he, or his father, will now show us the way home.

24. Henry then spoke to the boy, and asked him if he could show them the way out of the wood. Yes, surely I can, answered the boy, but I never should have thought of seeing Thomas Merton out so late, in such a tempestuous night as this. But, if you will come with me, to my father's cottage, you may warm yourselves at our fire, and father will run to Mr. Barlow to let him know you are safe.

25. Thomas accepted the offer with joy, and the little boy led them out of the wood, and in a few minutes they came to a small cottage which stood by the side of the road. When they entered, they saw a middle-aged woman busy in spinning, the eldest girl was cooking over the fire, the father was sitting in the chimney corner, and reading a book, while three or four ragged children were tumbling upon the floor, and creeping between their father's legs.

6. Daddy, said the little boy as he came in, here is

Thomas Merton, who was so good to us all in the summer. He has lost his way in the woods, and is almost perished in the snow. The man upon this arose, and with much civility desired the two little boys to seat themselves by the fire.

27. The good woman, remembering Thomas, said, my little friend, I wish I had any thing to offer you that you could eat. But I am afraid you would never be able to bear such coarse brown bread as we poor folks are obliged to eat. Indeed, said Thomas, my good mother, I have fasted so long and am so hungry, that I think I could eat any thing. Well then, answered the woman, here is a little bit of bacon, which I will broil for you upon the embers, and if you can make a supper you are heartily welcome. While the woman was thus preparing supper, the man had closed his book and placed it upon a shelf; which gave Thomas the curiosity to ask him what he was reading about. My young friend, answered the man, I am reading the book which teaches me my duty towards man, and my obligations to God; I was reading the Gospel of Jesus Christ, when you came in, and teaching it to my children.

28. T. Indeed I have heard of that good book; Mr. Barlow has often read part of it to me, and promised I should read it myself. That is the book they read at church; I have often heard Mr. Barlow read it to the people; and he always reads so well and so affectingly, that every body listens, and you may hear even a pin drop upon the pavement.

29. The man. Yes, Mr. Barlow is a worthy servant and follower of Jesus Christ himself. He is the friend of all the poor in the neighbourhood. He gives us food and medicines when we are ill; he employs us when we can find no work. But what we are even more obliged to him for, than the giving us food and raiment, he instructs us in our duty, makes us ashamed of our faults, and teaches us how we may be happy, not only here, but in another world.

30. I was once an idle, abandoned man myself, given to swearing and drinking, neglecting my family, and taking no thought for my poor wife and children. But since Mr. Barlow has taught me better things, and made me acquainted with this blessed book, my life and manners, I hope, are much amended, and I do my duty better to my poor family.

31. That indeed you do, Robin, answered the woman; there is not now a better and kinder husband in the world: you have not wasted an idle penny or a moment's time, these two years; and without that unfortunate fever, which prevented you from working last harvest, we should have the greatest reason to be all contented.

I

32. Have we not the greatest reason now, answered the man, to be not only contented, but thankful, for all the blessings we enjoy? It is true, that I and several of the children, were ill this year for many weeks; but did we not all escape, through the blessing of God, and the care of good Mr. Barlow, and this worthy Henry Sandford, who brought us victuals so many days, with his own hands, when we otherwise should perhaps have starved? Have Í not had very good employment ever since, and do I not now earn six shillings a week, which is a very comfortable thing, when many poor people as good as I are starving because they cannot find employment. Six shillings a week! six shillings a week! cried Thomas in amazement; and is that all you and your wife and children have to live on for a whole week?

33. The man. Not all; my wife sometimes earns a shilling or eighteen pence a week by spinning; and our eldest daughter begins to do something that way, but not much. T. That makes seven shillings and sixpence a week. Why, I have known my mother give more than that to go to a place where outlandish people sing. I have seen her and other ladies give a man a dollar for dressing their hair. And I know a little girl whose father gives half a guinea a time to a man that teaches her to jump and caper about the

room.

33. The man replied, smiling, these are great gentlefolks that you are talking about; they are very rich and have a right to do what they please with their own. It is the duty of us poor folks to labour hard, take what we can get, and thank the great and wise God, that our condition

is no worse.

34. T. What, and is it possible that you can thank God for living in such a house as this, and earning seven shillings and sixpence a week?

35. The man. To be sure I can. Is it not through his goodness that we have clothes and a warm house to shelter us, and wholesome food to eat? It was but yesterday that two poor men came by who had been cast away in a

storm, and lost their ship and all tney had. One of these poor men had scarcely any clothes to cover him, and was shaking all over with a violent ague, and the other had his toes almost mortified by walking barefooted in the

snow.

36. Am I not a great deal better off than these poor men, and perhaps than a thousand others, who are at this time tost about upon the waves, or cast away, or wandering about the world, without a shed to cover them from the weather, or imprisoned for debt? Might I not have gone on in committing bad actions like many other unhappy men, till I had been guilty of some notorious crime, which might have brought me to a shameful end? And ought I not to be grateful for all these blessings which I possess?

37. Thomas, who had hitherto enjoyed all the good things of this life, without reflecting from whom he had received them, was very much struck with the piety of this honest and contented man; but as he was going to answer, the good woman, who had laid a clean though coarse cloth upon her table, and taking up her savoury supper in an earthen plate, invited them to sit down; an invitation which both the boys obeyed with the greatest pleasure, as they had eaten nothing since the morning. In the mean time the man of the house took his hat, and walked to Mr. Barlow's to inform him that his two pupils were safe in the neighbourhood.

38. Mr. Barlow had long suffered great uneasiness at their absence, and, not contented with sending after them on every side, was at that time very busy in the pursuit ; so that the man met him about half way from his own house. As soon as Mr. Barlow heard the good news, he determined to return with the man, and reached his house just as Thomas Merton had finished one of the heartiest meals he had ever made.

39. The little boys rose up to meet Mr. Barlow, and thanked him for his kindness, and the pains he had taken to look after them, expressing their concern for the accident which had happened, and the uneasiness which, without designing it they had occasioned: but he, with the greatest good-nature, advised them to be more cautious for the future, and not to extend their walks so far; then thanking the worthy people of the house, he offered to conduct them home; and they all three sat out together, in a very cold, but fine and starlight evening.

40. As they went home, he renewed his caution and told them the dangers they had incurred. Many people, said he, in your situation, have been surprised by an unexpected storm, and losing their way have perished with cold. Sometimes both men and beasts, not being able to discern their accustomed track, have fallen into deep pits filled up and covered with the snow, where they have been found buried several feet deep and frozen to death.

41. And is it impossible, said Thomas, in such a case to escape? In general it is, said Mr. Barlow, but there have been some extraordinary instances of persons who have lived several days in that condition, and yet been taken out alive; to-morrow you shall read a remarkable story to that purpose.

SECTION VII.

The Story of the people who were overwhelmed in a vast body of snow, which rolled upon their buildings from a high mountain.

1. WHEN the morrow came, Thomas put Mr. Barlow in mind of the story he had promised him, about the people buried in the snow. Mr. Barlow looked him out the book, but first said, It is necessary to give you some explanation. The country where this accident happened, is a country full of rocks and mountains, so excessively high that the snow never melts upon their tops.

2. Never, said Thomas, not even in the summer? Not even in the summer, said Mr. Barlow; the vallies between these mountains are inhabited by a brave and industrious people; the sides of them too are cultivated, but the tops of the highest mountains are so extremely cold, that the ice and snow never melt, but go on continually increasing.

3. During a great part of the winter, the weather is extremely cold, and the inhabitants confine themselves within their houses, which they have the art to render very comfortable. Almost all the roads are then impassable, and snow and ice afford the only prospect.

4. But when the year begins to grow warmer, the snow is frequently thawed upon the sides of the mountains, and undermined by the torrents of water which pour down with irresistible fury. Hence it frequently happens, that such prodigious masses of snow fall down, as are sufficient to bury beasts and houses, and even villages beneath them.