he had completed fuch and fuch a pur chase, he would even begin to give some thing to the poor, but at present he really had little to spare for charity. The very reason why he should have given more, was just the cause he affigned for not giving at all, namely the hardness of the times. The true grand fource of charity, felf-denial, never came into his head. Spend less that you may fave more, he would have thought a fhrewd maxim enough. But fpend less that you may spare more, never entered into his book of Proverbs.

At length the time came when Mr. Worthy had promised to return his vifit. It was indeed a little haftened by notice. that Mr. Bragwell would have, in the courfe of the week, a piece of land to fell by auction; and though Mr. Worthy believed the price was likely to be above his pocket, yet he knew it was an occafion which would be likely to bring the principal farmers of that neighbourhood to gether, fome of whom he wanted to meet.

And

And it was on this occafion that Mr. Bragwell prided himself, that he should fhew his neighbours fo fenfible a man as his dear friend Mr. Worthy.

Worthy arrived at his friend's house on the Saturday, time enough to see the house, and garden, and grounds of Mr. Bragwell by day-light. He saw with pleasure (for he had a warm and generous heart) those evident figns of his friend's profperity, but as he was a man of a sober mind, and was a most exact dealer in truth, he never allowed his tongue the licence of immodeft commendation, which he used to say either favoured of flattery or envy. Indeed he never rated mere worldly things fo highly as to bestow upon them undue praife. His calm approbation fomewhat difappointed the vanity of Mr. Bragwell, who could not help fecretly suspecting that his friend, as good a man as he was, was not quite free from envy. He felt, however, very much inclined to forgive this jealoufy, which he feared the fight of his ample property,

and

on plate or on wine; but he will regret, as I do, that many of these taxes are fo much evaded, that new taxes are continually brought on to make up the deficiencies of the old.

During fupper the young ladies fat in disdainful filence, not deigning to bestow the smallest civility on fo plain a man as Mr. Worthy. They left the room with their Mamma as foon as poffible; being impatient to get away to ridicule their father's old-fashioned friend at full li berty.

The Dance; or, the Christmas Merrymaking: Exemplifying the Effects modern Education in a Farm-house.

As foon as they were gone, Mr. Worthy afked Bragwell how his family comforts ftood, and how his daughters, who, he faid, were really fine young women, went on. O, as to that, replied Bragwell, pretty much like other men's handfome daugh

ters,

ters, I fuppofe; that is, worfe and worse. I really begin to apprehend that their fantaftical notions have gained fuch a head, that after all the money I have fcraped together, I fhall never get them well mar. ried.

Betfey has just loft as good an offer as any girl could defire; young Wilson, an honeft, fubftantial grazier as any in the country. He not only knows every thing proper for his station, but is pleafing in his behaviour, and a pretty scholar into the bargain; he reads hiftory books and voyages, of a winter's evening, to his infirm father, inftead of going to the cardaffembly in our town; he neither likes drinking nor fporting, and is a fort of favourite with our Parfon; because he takes in the weekly numbers of a fine Bible with Cuts, and subscribes to the Sunday School, and makes a fufs about helping the poor; and sets up soup-shops, and fells bacon at an underprice, and gives odd bits of ground to his labourers to help them in

VOL. IV.

L

these

these dear times, as they call them; but I think they are good times for us, Mr. Worthy.

Well, for all this, Betsey only despised him, and laughed at him; but as he is both handsome and rich, I thought the might come round at laft; and fo I invited him to come and stay a day or two at Christmas, when we have always a little fort of merry-making here. But it would not do. He scorned to talk that palavering ftuff which the has been used to in the marble-covered books I told you of. He told her, indeed, that it would be the happiness of his heart to live with her; which I own I thought was as much as could be expected of any man. But Mifs had no notion of marrying one who was only defirous of living with her. No, no, forfooth, her lover muft declare himself ready to die for her, which honest Wilson was not fuch a fool as to offer to do. In the afternoon, however, he got a little into her favour by making out a Rebus or two