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in one's own neighbourhood, as to any body else. And if every man in every family, parish, and county did the same, why then all the schemes would meet, and the end of one parish, where I was doing good, would be the beginning of another parish where fomebody else was doing good; fo my fchemes would jut into my neighbour's; his projects would unite with thofe of fome other local reformer; and all would fit with a fort of dove-tail exactness. And what is better, all would join in furnishing a living comment on that practical precept: "Thou fhalt love the "Lord thy God with all thy heart, and "thy neighbour as thyself."

Fantom. Sir, a man of large views will be on the watch for great occafions to prove his benevolence.

Trueman. Yes, Sir, but if they are fo distant that they cannot reach them, or fo vaft that he cannot grafp them, he may let a thousand little, fnug, kind, good actions flip through his fingers in the mean

while and fo between the great things that he cannot do, and the little ones that he will not do, life paffes and nothing will be done.

Juft at this moment Mifs Polly Fantom (whofe mother had gone out fome time before) started up, let fall her work, and cried out, "O pappa, do but look "what a monsterous great fire there is

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yonder on the common! If it were the "fifth of November I should think it were "a bonfire. Look how it blazes!"-I "fee plain enough what it is," faid Mr. Fanton, fitting down again without the leaft emotion. "It is Jenkins's cottage "on fire."-" What, poor John Jenkins, "who works in our garden, pappa?" faid the poor girl in great terror. "Do not "be frightened, child," anfwered Fantom, we are fafe enough; the wind "blows the other way. Why did you "difturb us for fuch a trifle, as it was fo "diftant ?" Come, Mr. Trueman, fit "down."-"Sit down," faid Mr. True

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man,

man, "I am not a stock, Sir, nor a stone, "but a man; made of the fame common

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nature with Jenkins, whose house is

burning. Come along-let us fly to help him," continued he, running to the door in fuch hafte that he forgot to take his hat, though it hung juft before him"Come, Mr. Fantom-come, my little "dear-I wish your mamma was here"I am forry fhe went out just now-we

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may all do fome good; every body may "be of ufe at a fire. Even you, Mifs "Polly, may fave fome of thofe poor "people's things in your apron, while

your pappa and I hand the buckets." All this he faid as he run along with the young lady in his hand; not doubting but Fantom and his whole family were following close behind him.-But the present distress was neither grand enough nor far enough from home to fatisfy the wideftretched benevolence of the philofopher, who fat down within fight of the flames to work at a new pamphlet, which now fwallowed

fwallowed up his whole foul, on univerfal benevolence.

His daughter, indeed, who happily was not yet a philofopher, with Mr. Trueman, followed by the maids, reached the scene of diftrefs. William Wilfon, the footman, refufed to affift, glad of fuch an opportunity of being revenged on Jenkins, whom he called a furly fellow, for prefuming to complain, becaufe William always purloined the best fruit for himself before he fet it on his mafter's table. Jenkins alfo, whofe duty it was to be out of doors, had refused to leave his own work in the garden, to do Will's work in the house while he got drunk, or read the Rights of Man.

The little dwelling of Jenkins burnt very furiously. Mr. Trueman's exertions were of the greatest fervice. He directed the willing, and gave an example to the flothful. By living in London, he had been more used to the calamity of fire than the country people, and knew better what was

to

to be done. In the midst of the buftle

he faw one woman only who never attempted to be of the leaft ufe. She ran backwards and forward, wringing her hands, and crying out in a tone of piercing agony, "Oh, my child! my little Tommy! "Will no one fave my Tommy?" Any woman might have uttered the fame words, but the look which explained them could only come from a mother. Trueman did not stay to ask if fhe were owner of the houfe, and mother of the child. It was his way to do all the good which could be done firft, and then to ask questions. All he faid was, "Tell me which is the room?" The poor woman, now speechless through terror, could only point up to a little window in the thatch, and then funk on the ground.

Mr. Trueman made his way through a thick fmoke, and ran up the narrow ftaircafe which the fire had not yet reached. He got fafely to the loft, fnatched up the little creature, who was fweetly fleeping in

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