liberties were established. Mr. Simon Littleworth, the father of the present Farmer Littleworth, loved getting money to his heart, but could not bear to spend it, even on a decent education for his children. He died about the year 1776, leaving a fortune among his children of about 350l, each, entailing also upon them all the prejudices of an unhappy day and generation, conceiving higher notions of the religion of Dr. Sacheverell than that of Jesus Christ and all his apostles.

According, therefore, to all probable circumstances, Farmer Littleworth would never have submitted to have heard the Gospel, if he had not heard it in a church.

But the farmer, though still a churchman, was now happily delivered from the traminels of his former education, and began to entertain equal love to Christians of all denominations; yet not so the rest of the family, which now consisted only of himself and two sisters, his elder brother and a sister having been dead some years ago.

His elder sister, Polly, was the exact counterpart of Miss Polly, to whom she stood godmother. She was, in her younger days, so self-willed and perverse, that no person could ever venture to ask her the question, if she chose to alter her state:which also, by general report, will probably be the fate of the god-daughter as well as the aunt.

The Farmer's sister continued to live in the neighbourhood of Mapleton till she was near sixty; and, on account of the pressure of the times, has lately removed further north, to make a joint purse with another old maiden lady, known by the name of Madam Vixen: and though she was Miss Polly all the time she continued near her brother, yet, since her res moval, she has submitted, though with some regret, to the graver appella tion of Mrs. Mary.

Thus convenience has brought these two old ladies together: though they are the frequent cause of vexation to each other, yet hereby they are just able to keep a maid-servant between them, who is generally changed about six times in the year.

Madam Vixen is often accustomed to boast that she had a superior education, and, therefore, attempts to correct Mrs. Mary for her vulgarity of expression; and also, that her family was of much better blood than the family of the Littleworths. This is a frequent cause of mortification to Mrs. Mary, who plies her in return for her family-pride and self-conceit. Thus, alternately, they irritate and vex each other, till they make themselves so peevish and fretful thereby, as that they scarce exchange a word for several days together. During these, intervals of ill-humour, there are frequent threats of separation, till these little fracas are settled by the neighbouring gossips bringing them some new tales of the affairs of their neighbourhood, which they delight to hear, retail, and exaggerate; then an innocent game at cards again sets them a quarrelling, and makes them guilty of the same sort of conduct against each other. Thus they rub on together from time to time; yet, if they are dissimilar in some instances, in others they are perfectly similar..

In point of religion, they are precisely agreed; for though they seldom trouble the church but when the weather is very fine, yet they do their duty in reading the Psalms and Lessons at home; while twice or three times a year they submit to the penance of a gloomy week of preparation before they receive the holy sacrament, which is seldom done but on the great festivals; but in nothing are they more similar than in their belief of various signs, and omens, and prognostications, on which they ever exercising, their minds, and tormenting each other, under the expectation of the most gloomy events. The prognostications of

are

Moore's

Moore's Almanack are always received and read by them with prodigious avidity and glee; and though they are aware that the first Francis Moore, the original physician and astrologer. must long ago have been dead, yet they have no doubt that the present Francis Moore is as much a real character, and a far wiser astrologer than his father, he being also the seventh son of his father, who was himself a seventh son. How far it was done with a design to impose on the credulity of the old ladies, might be difficult to say; yet they seem fully persuaded that the present Francis Moore has also a seventh son, who, though but young, is now studying both physic and astrology in the town of Utopia, in the north of Ireland; and they have no doubt, but that he is born to possess so supreme a degree of knowledge, by investigating the configurations of the stars, as that he will be able to read the history of all future events beforehand, Both private and public, as plainly as he can now read his A, B, C; and that he will as far outshine these great luminaries, Count Swedenburgh, Mr. Brothers, and some other prophecyers on our late public events, as the vast knowledge of a Newton outshines the intellectual powers of "a" gooset.

:

No one can wonder that these ladies, who are so fond of hearing and telling Old wives fables," and attending to such absurdities, should also give way to all sorts of fears and apprehensions, arising from other causes the most superstitious and absurd. Hence it is that they are kept in perpetuat alarm at one time, by the death-watch; at another time, by the croaking of a raven, or the screeching of an owl; then again by the winding-sheet in the candle, and a variety of such other absurdities, as though the all-wise God had given a commission to spiders, owls, and ravens, and even to tallow-candles, to instruct mankind in the knowledge of different future events.

This unfortunate turn of mind, however, had once proved nearly fatal, not only to the confort, but the very life of Madam Vixen. She heard three or four times her chamber-bell ring, as it was supposed, of its own accord. This brought to her recollection the story of her grandmother's death, which was foretold by some such an event three weeks be fore the time. She, therefore, positively concluded, that within that period she was to depart. This so worked upon her imagination, as that it brought on a serious illness. The apothecary was sent for only out of form, as she concladed it to be of no avail. The lawyer attended, to alter and finish her will; and the poor clergyman, as ill liked as the rest of his brethren, was sent for to prepare her for her change, and to fit her for the final reception of the holy sacrament: this it was her design to have received a day or two before her departure, which seemed for a while more fully confirmed by another event similar to the former. Madam Vixen and her nurse one night evidently heard a bell ring, as though it had been from under the ground; but the fears excited on this account, were soon dispersed, as it was only a piece of Mrs. Mary's prudent attention, who muffled the hammer of the bell belonging to the clock, as its shrill sounding noise was found offensive to Mrs. Vixen ; and a little while after this, the whole of this supposed melancholy event disclosed itself; for one night, while the nurse was sitting up, hearkening after death-watches, screech-owls, &c. and feeding upon these strange fears, the kitten stole into the room; for both the old ladies were very

+ Mr. Hill here inserts a note or two, farther to expose the folly of these superstitious notions, which, for brevity's sake, we are obliged to omit.

fond

fond of cats. After the manner of that frisky generation, puss fixed her eyes upon her old plaything, the tassel of the bell, and consequently gave it a handsome ring. Mrs. Vixen takes the alarm, and asks if the bell did not again ring of itself. The nurse burst out with laughing, and adds, why, madam, it is nothing but the cat playing with the bell-tassel; and, I dare say, this was the reason why it rang before. However, the ringing of the bell brought Mrs. Mary into the room, and when she heard of the event, joined with the nurse in a laugh on the occasion, while Mrs. Vixen immediately took heart, and consequently began directly to recover. The nurse told the apothecary, on his next day's visit, that the cat had done more for her mistress's recovery, by ringing the bell, than he could do with all the drugs in his shop. She then told him the whole of the story, which before was known alone to the family. A message also was soon afterwards seat to the minister, that he might be informed a repetition of his visits would not be needed; and the lady herself soon recovered, on the removal of the causes of her disease.

The reader may suppose that he had not been presented with a detail of these little events, had it not been with a design to expose the folly of those superstitious fears which are so very injurious to the minds of all who, have not sufficient sense and resolution to resist them. Where there is but a little real religion, the_want of it is too frequently supplied by au abundance of superstition. The human mind is prone to run into extremes on every occasion; some are for believing too much, others for believing too little. Happy are they who, being blessed with that wisdom. which is from above, are preserved in the middle path, and saved from every extreme.

But to return from this digression. Mrs. Steadyman was, in some respects, of a better mind than her sister; she was of a more conversible and friendly disposition, which she could exercise pretty freely among her neighbours, though but very sparingly to her husband; who then being but a poor, though very industrious apprentice, found it a conve nient match. Thus by narrying a fortune, he had the misfortune to be married to one who conceived she had a right to "dictate and usurp authority over the husband;" or, according to the delicate style of the day, to wear the small clothes. This, in point of civility, was to be submitted to, at least during the honey-moon; but, to the sad discomfiture of Mc. Steadyman, she has contrived to wear them from that time to this.

Notwithstanding some little offence had been given to Mr. Steadyman's, family, by the farmer having shown a dislike (they being on a visit soon after he became serious) to the introduction of cards, and such sort of innocent amusements, they felt themselves under the obligation, from their family connection, to repeat the visit upon their nephew Henry's unexpected return; and it was about ten days after Mr. Worthy's visit to Gracehill-farm, that this interview took place.

On the Saturday evening they arrived. Mr. Steadyman could on the Sunday be best spared from his business. [The author is not acquainted with the conversation as it passed at supper; but what after took place when the table was cleared, he has collected to the best of his power.] Thomas Newman is introduced.

Thomas. Master, you was saying you might like to take the covered cart to Brookfield church to-morrow, as the weather is inclined to be wet; if so, I should be glad to get things ready before I go home.

Farmer. I cannot tell as yet, Thomas. (To Mrs. Steadyman) Sister, would you like to go with us to Brookfield church? It is hardly twe mdes from our house; and Mr. Lovegood is a charming man.

Mrs.

Mrs. Steadyman. O no, brother, I did not come here to change my re ligion: wherever I go, I always think it best to keep to my parishchurch. I shall go with sister Littleworth to Mapleton, to hear Mr Doolittle.

Mr. Steadyman. Well, brother Littleworth, I'll go with you, for I cannot see that your notions of religion have done you any harm; and I must confess, my nephew Henry is wonderfully reformed: but you need not have the cart for me, I had rather walk.

Miss Polly. If my aunt Steadyman won't go, I am sure Patty and I shan't. I have no notion to go and be crowded, and pushed about at that church, when we sit so comfortably at our own.

Miss Nancy. I don't see, father, that you need to have the cart, if my aunt won't go; you and brother Harry may ride as usual, and I can walk with my uncle, and shew him the nearest way over the fields.

Henry. Well, I wish with all my heart my aunt would but for once come with uncle: who knows what a blessing might attend it!

Mrs. Steadymap. There, that was the way of talk last time we were here; as though nobody had any religion unless they were all of one way of thinking.

Farmer. Well then, Thomas, we won't have the cart, unless it should rain. Harry and I shall ride as usual, and Nancy and brother will walk. But have you had your supper?

Thomas. Yes, master. My mistress has been in the pantry, and cut me off a great heaped plate-full of victuals to take home with me. It will make a rare feast for Betty and the children, with a few boiled potatoes (to his Mistress.) Thank you, mistress, a thousand times (Thomas retires.) Mrs. Littleworth. (To her brother.) I am not so much against my husband's religion as I was, for it has made that poor man an excellent servant; and Henry and Nancy are good children; and though I don't like to leave my parish-church, yet, I believe, Mr. Lovegood is a very good

man.

Mr. Steadyman. Well, and about six miles from our town there is a Mr. Meck, who serves two churches; who is of the same way of thinking z and oftentimes have I heard him run down; but for what I cannot tell, unless it is because he is a better man than most of his neighbours.

Mrs. Steadyman. Why, don't you know that his rector threatened to turn him off his curacies the other day, because so many people come out of other parishes to hear him; and that he went to the Bishop about him ?

Mr. Steadyman. Well, and much good he got by that. How could any one think that the Bishop should turn a poor man off his curacies for having a full church? I am sure, if the Bishop was to turn off all the parsons that have empty churches, he would have enough to do.

Farmer. Aye: but, brother, you have only got hold of half the story; for it has been said, when Rector Filpot, who is some great cathedralman, and every one knows he loves his bottle better than his Bible, went to the Bishop, to make it out as though his curate did wrong to have such a full church, he directly said he was heartily glad of it; and wished that every other parson's church was as full: and when the Rector asked my Lord Bishop what must be done if all the people left their churches to go after thefe sort of preachers? He said as hot, that they must outlive and outpreach such men; and that was the way to preach them back again. Rector Filpot must have found it a desperate hard thing to quilt all that; but, to my way of thinking, this was all a shim sham job of it, for the rector knows he never could have got another such a curate, in his own way, to serve two churches at the distance of between three and

four

four miles from each other; and throughout all the summer months, to serve each of these churches twice a day, for forty pounds a year. Now, you know, brother, I am a farmer, and Mr. Meek must have a horse; for he cannot ride through the air like a witch on a broomstick; and that would cost him, to buy it and keep it, near upon twenty pounds out of the forty.

Mr. Steadyman, Poor gentleman! I have often wondered how he could contrive to live upon so little; and he generally looks more decent in his cloathing than one would expect; but he is much beloved; and I am told that many of his neighbours help him out.

Farmer. Aye, and so they need; and I am told also, that our 'squire gave him a new suit of clothes, from top to toe, last Christmas; and that he looked as well dressed of a Sunday as the rector himself, though he never could look so plump. According to his way of living, I wonder how he does, with his small income, to keep body and soul together; but it is a burning shame that other people should keep Rector Filpot's curate for him, or let him be half-starved, poor gentleman!

Mrs. Steadyman. I dare say, the rector would give him more if he was of his own way of thinking; but he is displeased with him on account of his religion.

Farmer. Ah, sister, this is a sorry excuse. You make but a poor hand of it in lifting the lame dog over the style; but, to my mind, that man has found out the best way of thinking who has found out the best way of living. Well, well, when we were all honoured to drink tea at our squire's the other day, my son Harry gave a terrible account of the slavetrade; but sure I am the slave-trade in England is not ended, when such a man as Rector Filpot can have so many places of preferment, as to bring him in twelve hundred pounds a year; while his poor curate, that he had quite out of Wales, for that he might come cheap, should be worked so hard, and have not much more to feed himself than what he wants to feed his horse, which he must have to take him from church to church; and poor Mr. Meek now begins to be an old man. I am afraid these fat rectors don't love their curates half so well as I do my old horses.

Mr. Steadyman. Indeed, brother, it is a sad thing to see those who are our teachers acting in such a manner. We always mind more what a man does than what a man says; and as to Rector Filpot, we never hear of him coming into our parts but about Easter, and then every body trembles lest he should come to screw up his tythes still higher than he has done already; and all that he does for it, perhaps, is to preach one sermon in each of his churches; and then they are sure to see no more of him till that time twelve months. But it seems they talk about making all these rectors reside on their own living; but I can't see what good can come of that; for till they send us better men, the more we know of these sort of ministers, the less we shall like them.

Farmer. Yes; and when he comes into these parts, he always comes to see our rector, and gives us a sermon. In the days of my ignorance, fiow I used to admire him. The last time he preached, it seems, he made a main bustle about the church, and fell aboard some parsons (I'll warrant he was throwing some scaters at Mr. Lovegood) who wanted to make themselves popular, by being neglectrul about their tythes; and that it was "the duty of the clergy to see after the moluments of the church, I think he called them; and that it was the duty of the people to pay the parsons what they called their dues. Well, well, if such a sort of religion will take a man to Heaven, I am sure Rector Filpot will sit far above St. Paul; and every body knows if he is neglectful of his flock, he is cager VOL. X.

P

enough