Why man should thus feel pain; why our after death more desirable, so it smooths the pas wretchedness should be requisite in the formation sage there. The wretched have had a long fa of universal felicity; why, when all other systems miliarity with every face of terror. The man of are made perfect by the perfection of their subor- sorrows lays himself quietly down, without pos dinate parts, the great system should require for its sessions to regret, and but few ties to stop his deperfection parts that are not only subordinate to parture: he feels only nature's pang in the final others, but imperfect in themselves; these are separation, and this is no way greater than he has questions that never can be explained, and might often fainted under before; for after a certain debe useless if known. On this subject, Providence gree of pain, every new breach that death opens in has thought fit to elude our curiosity, satisfied with the constitution, nature kindly covers with insensi granting us motives to consolation. bility.

In this situation man has called in the friendly Thus Providence has given the wretched two assistance of philosophy, and Heaven, seeing the advantages over the happy in this life-greater feincapacity of that to console him, has given him licity in dying, and in heaven all that superiority the aid of religion. The consolations of philosophy of pleasure which arises from contrasted enjoyare very amusing, but often fallacious. It tells us ment. And this superiority, my friends, is no that life is filled with comforts, if we will but enjoy small advantage, and seems to be one of the pleathem; and on the other hand, that though we una-sures of the poor man in the parable; for though he voidably have miseries here, life is short, and they was already in heaven, and felt all the raptures it will soon be over. Thus do these consolations de-could give, yet it was mentioned as an addition to stroy each other; for, if life is a place of comfort, his happiness, that he had once been wretched, and its shortness must be misery, and if it be long, our now was comforted; that he had known what it griefs are protracted. Thus philosophy is weak; was to be miserable, and now felt what it was to be but religion comforts in a higher strain. Man is happy. here, it tells us, fitting up his mind, and preparing Thus, my friends, you see religion does what it for another abode. When the good man leaves philosophy could never do : it shows the equal dealthe body and is all a glorious mind, he will find he ings of Heaven to the happy and the unhappy, and has been making himself a heaven of happiness levels all human enjoyments to nearly the same here; while the wretch that has been maimed and standard. It gives to both rich and poor the same contaminated by his vices, shrinks from his body happiness hereafter, and equal hopes to aspire after with terror, and finds that he has anticipated the it; but if the rich have the advantage of enjoying vengeance of Heaven. To religion then we must pleasure here, the poor have the endless satisfachold in every circumstance of life for our truest tion of knowing what it was once to be miserable, comfort; for if already we are happy, it is a pleasure when crowned with endless felicity hereafter; and to think that we can make that happiness unend- even though this should be called a small advaning; and if we are miserable, it is very consoling to tage, yet being an eternal one, it must make up by think that there is a place of rest. Thus, to the duration what the temporal happiness of the great fortunate, religion holds out a continuance of bliss; may have exceeded by intenseness. to the wretched, a change from pain.

These are, therefore, the consolations which the But though religion is very kind to all men, it wretched have peculiar to themselves, and in which has promised peculiar rewards to the unhappy: the they are above the rest of mankind; in other resick, the naked, the houseless, the heavy-laden, and spects, they are below them. They who would the prisoner, have ever most frequent promises in know the miseries of the poor, must see life and our sacred law. The author of our religion every endure it. To declaim on the temporal advantages where professes himself the wretch's friend, and, they enjoy, is only repeating what none either beunlike the false ones of this world, bestows all his lieve or practise. The men who have the neces caresses upon the forlorn. The unthinking have saries of living are not poor, and they who want censured this as partiality, as a preference without them must be miserable. Yes, my friends, we merit to deserve it. But they never reflect, that it must be miserable. No vain efforts of a refined is not in the power even of Heaven itself to make imagination can soothe the wants of nature, can the offer of unceasing felicity as great a gift to the give elastic sweetness to the dark vapour of a dunhappy as to the miserable. To the first, eternity geon, or ease the throbbings of a broken heart. Let is but a single blessing, since at most it but increases what they already possess. To the latter, it is but a double advantage; for it diminishes their pain here, and rewards them with heavenly bliss hereafter.

But Providence is in another respect kinder to the poor than the rich; for as it thus makes the life

the philosopher from his couch of softness tell us that we can resist all these: alas! the effort by which we resist them is still the greatest pain. Death is slight, and any man may sustain it; but torments are dreadful, and these no man can endure.

To us then, my friends, the promises of happi

ness in heaven should be peculiarly dear; for if our (ing, that he must be obliged to remove my son inte reward be in this life alone, we are then indeed of a stronger cell, but that he should be permitted to all men the most miserable. When I look round revisit me every morning. I thanked him for his these gloomy walls, made to terrify as well as to clemency, and grasping my boy's hand, bade him confine us; this light, that only serves to show the farewell, and be mindful of the great duty that was horrors of the place; those shackles, that tyranny before him. has imposed or crime made necessary; when I sur- I again therefore laid me down, and one of my vey these emaciated looks, and hear those groans, little ones sat by my bed-side reading, when Mr. O my friends, what a glorious exchange would Jenkinson entering, informed me that there was heaven be for these. To fly through regions un- news of my daughter; for that she was seen by a confined as air, to bask in the sunshine of eternal person about two hours before in a strange gentlebliss, to carol over endless hymns of praise, to have man's company, and that they had stopped at a no master to threaten or insult us, but the form of neighbouring village for refreshment, and seemed Goodness himself for ever in our eyes! when I as if returning to town. He had scarcely delivered think of these things, death becomes the messen- this news when the gaoler came with looks of haste ger of very glad tidings; when I think of these and pleasure to inform me, that my daughter was things, his sharpest arrow becomes the staff of my found. Moses came running in a moment after, support; when I think of these things, what is crying out that his sister Sophy was below, and there in life worth having? when I think of these coming up with our old friend Mr. Burchell. things, what is there that should not be spurned away? Kings in their palaces should groan for such advantages; but we, humbled as we are, should yearn for them.

Just as he delivered this news, my dearest girl entered, and with looks almost wild with pleasure, ran to kiss me in a transport of affection. Her mother's tears and silence also showed her pleasure"Here, papa," cried the charming girl, "here is the brave man to whom I owe my delivery; to this

piness and safety" A kiss from Mr. Burchell, whose pleasure seemed even greater than hers, interrupted what she was going to add.

And shall these things be ours? Ours they will certainly be if we but try for them; and what is a comfort, we are shut out from many temptations that gentleman's intrepidity I am indebted for my hap would retard our pursuit. Only let us try for them, and they will certainly be ours; and what is still a comfort, shortly too: for if we look back on a past life, it appears but a very short span, and whatever "Ah, Mr. Burchell," cried I, "this is but a we may think of the rest of life, it will yet be found wretched habitation you now find us in; and we of less duration; as we grow older, the days seem are now very different from what you last saw us. to grow shorter, and our intimacy with time ever You were ever our friend: we have long discoverlessens the perception of his stay. Then let us ed our errors with regard to you, and repent of our take comfort now, for we shall soon be at our jour-ingratitude. After the vile usage you then receivney's end; we shall soon lay down the heavy bur-ed at my hands, I am almost ashamed to behold den laid by Heaven upon us; and though death, your face; yet I hope you'll forgive me, as I was the only friend of the wretched, for a little while deceived by a base ungenerous wretch, who under mocks the weary traveller with the view, and like the mask of friendship has undone me.” his horizon still flies before him; yet the time will "It is impossible," replied Mr. Burchell, "that certainly and shortly come, when we shall cease I should forgive you, as you never deserved my refrom our toil; when the luxurious great ones of the sentment. I partly saw your delusion then, and world shall no more tread us to the earth; when we as it was out of my power to restrain, I could only shall think with pleasure of our suffering below; pity it." when we shall be surrounded with all our friends, or such as deserved our friendship; when our bliss shall be unutterable, and still, to crown all, unending.

CHAPTER XXX.

"It was ever my conjecture,” cried I, "that your mind was noble, but now I find it so. But tell me, my dear child, how thou hast been relieved, or who the ruffians were who carried thee away."

"Indeed, sir," replied she, "as to the villain who carried me off, I am yet ignorant. For, as my mamma and I were walking out, he came behind us, and almost before I could call for help, forced

Happier prospects begin to appear.-Let us be inflexible, and me into the post-chaise, and in an instant the

fortune will at last change in our favour.

horses drove away. I met several on the road to whom I cried out for assistance, but they disregardWHEN I had thus finished, and my audience was ed my entreaties. In the mean time the rufhian retired, the gaoler, who was one of the most hu- himself used every art to hinder me from crying out: nane of his profession, hoped I would not be dis- he flattered and threatened by turns, and swore pleased, as what he did was but his duty, observ- that if I continued but silent he intended no harm.

In the mean time I had broken the canvass that he on such short notice. He bespoke also a dozen of had drawn up, and whora should I perceive at some their best wine, and some cordials for me; adding distance but your old friend Mr. Burchell, walking with a smile, that he would stretch a little for once, along with his usual swiftness, with the great stick and though in a prison, asserted he was never better for which we so much used to ridicule him. As disposed to be merry. The waiter soon made his soon as we came within hearing, I called out to appearance with preparations for dinner; a table him by name, and entreated his help. I repeated was lent us by the gaoler, who seemed remarkably my exclamations several times, upon which with a assiduous; the wine was disposed in order, and two very loud voice he bid the postillion stop; but the very well-dressed dishes were brought in. boy took no notice, but drove on with still greater My daughter had not yet heard of her poor brospeed. I now thought he could never overtake us, ther's melancholy situation, and we all seemed unwhen, in less than a minute, I saw Mr. Burchell willing to damp her cheerfulness by the relation. come running up by the side of the horses, and with But it was in vain that I attempted to appear cheerone blow knock the postillion to the ground. The ful, the circumstances of my unfortunate son broke horses, when he was fallen, soon stopped of them- through all efforts to dissemble; so that I was at selves, and the ruffian stepping out, with oaths and last obliged to damp our mirth, by relating his misnenaces drew his sword, and ordered him at his fortunes, and wishing that he might be permitted peril to retire; but Mr. Burchell running up shiver- to share with us in this little interval of satisfaction. d his sword to pieces, and then pursued him for near After my guests were recovered from the conster1 quarter of a mile; but he made his escape. I was nation my account had produced, I requested also at this time come out myself, willing to assist my that Mr. Jenkinson, a fellow-prisoner, might be adleliverer; but he soon returned to me in triumph. mitted, and the gaoler granted my request with an The postillion, who was recovered, was going to air of unusual submission. The clanking of my nake his escape too; but Mr. Burchell ordered him son's irons was no sooner heard along the passage, at his peril to mount again and drive back to town. than his sister ran impatiently to meet him; while Finding it impossible to resist, he reluctantly com- Mr. Burchell in the mean time asked me, if my plied, though the wound he had received seemed to son's name was George: to which replying in the me at least to be dangerous. He continued to com-affirmative, he still continued silent. As soon as plain of the pain as we drove along, so that he at my boy entered the room, I could perceive he relast excited Mr. Burchell's compassion, who at my garded Mr. Burchell with a look of astonishment request exchanged him for another, at an inn and reverence. "Come on," cried I, "my son; though we are fallen very low, yet Providence has "Welcome, then,” cried I, “ my child! and thou, been pleased to grant us some small relaxation from ter gallant deliverer, a thousand welcomes! Though pain. Thy sister is restored to us, and there is her our cheer is but wretched, yet our hearts are ready deliverer: to that brave man it is that I am indebtto receive you. And now, Mr. Burchell, as you ed for yet having a daughter; give him, my boy, have delivered my girl, if you think she is a recom- the hand of friendship, he deserves our warmest pense, she is yours; if you can stoop to an alliance gratitude." with a family so poor as mine, take her; obtain her consent, as I know you have her heart, and you have mine. And let me tell you, sir, that I give you no small treasure: she has been celebrated for beauty, it is true, but that is not my meaning, I give you up a treasure in her mind."

where we called on our return."

"But I suppose, sir," cried Mr. Burchell, "that you are apprized of my circumstances, and of my incapacity to support her as she deserves."

"If your present objection," replied I, "be meant as an evasion of my offer, I desist: but I know no man so worthy to deserve her as you; and if I at give her thousands, and thousands sought her from me, yet my honest brave Burchell should be ray dearest choice."

My son seemed all this while regardless of what I said, and still continued fixed at respectful distance.- "My dear brother," cried his sister, "why don't you thank my good deliverer? the brave should ever love each other."

He still continued in silence and astonishment till our guest at last perceived himself to be known, and, assuming all his native dignity, desired my son to come forward. Never before had I seen any thing so truly majestic as the air he assumed upon this occasion. The greastest object in the universe, says a certain philosopher, is a good man struggling with adversity; yet there is still a greater, which is the good man that comes to relieve it. After he had regarded my son for some time with a superior To all this his silence alone seemed to give a air, "I again find," said he, "unthinking boy, that mortifying refusal, and without the least reply to the same crime-" But here he was interrupted by my offer, he demanded if we could not be furnish- one of the gaoler's servants, who came to inform us ed with refreshments from the next inn; to which that a person of distinction, who had driven into being answered in the affirmative, he ordered them town with a chariot and several attendants, sent his to send in the best dinner that could be provided up-respects to the gentleman that was with us, and

begged to know when he should think proper to be | house, and the jokes which I audaciously threw waited upon.-"Bid the fellow wait," cried our out-these, sir, I fear, can never be forgiven." guest, "till I shall have leisure to receive him;" and "My dear good lady," returned he with a smile, then turning to my son, "I again find, sir," pro- "if you had your joke, I had my answer: I'll ceeded he, "that you are guilty of the same offence, leave it to all the company if mine were not as for which you once had my reproof, and for which good as yours. To say the truth, I know nobody the law is now preparing its justest punishments. whom I am disposed to be angry with at present, You imagine, perhaps, that a contempt for your but the fellow who so frighted my little girl here. own life gives you a right to take that of another: I had not even time to examine the rascal's person but where, sir, is the difference between a duellist so as to describe him in an advertisement. Can who hazards a life of no value, and the murderer you tell me, Sophy, my dear, whether you should who acts with greater security? Is it any diminu- know him again?" tion of the gamester's fraud, when he alleges that he has staked a counter?"

"Alas, sir," cried 1, "whoever you are, pity the poor misguided creature; for what he has done was in obedience to a deluded mother, who, in the bitterness of her resentment, required him, upon her blessing, to avenge her quarrel. Here, sir, is the letter, which will serve to convince you of her imprudence, and diminish his guilt."

"Indeed, sir,” replied she, "I can't be positive; yet now I recollect he had a large mark over one of his eyebrows."-" I ask pardon, madam," interrupted Jenkinson, who was by, "be so good as to inform me if the fellow wore his own red hair?"— " Yes, I think so,” cried Sophia, "And did your honour," continued he, turning to Sir William, "observe the length of his legs?"—"I can't be sure of their length," cried the baronet, "but I am conHe took the letter and hastily read it over. vinced of their swiftness; for he outran me, which "This," says he, "though not a perfect excuse, is is what I thought few men in the kingdom could such a palliation of his fault as induces me to for- have done."-"Please your honour," cried Jengive him. And, now, sir," continued he, kindly kinson, "I know the man: it is certainly the same; taking my son by the hand, "I see you are sur- the best runner in England; he has beaten Pinprised at finding me here; but I have often visited wire of Newcastle; Timothy Baxter is his name. prisons upon occasions less interesting. I am now I know him perfectly, and the very place of his come to see justice done a worthy man, for whom retreat this moment. If your honour will bid Mr. I have the most sincere esteem. I have long been Gaoler let two of his men go with me, I'll engage a disguised spectator of thy father's benevolence. I to produce him to you in an hour at furthest." have at his little dwelling enjoyed respect uncon- Upon this the gaoler was called, who instantly taminated by flattery; and have received that hap- appearing, Sir William demanded if he knew him. piness that courts could not give from the amusing "Yes, please your honour," replied the gaoler, “I simplicity round his fire-side. My nephew has know Sir William Thornhill well, and every body been apprised of my intentions of coming here, and that knows any thing of him will desire to know I find is arrived. It would be wronging him and more of him."-"Well, then," said the barchet, you to condemn him without examination: if there "my request is, that you will permit this man and be injury, there shall be redress; and this I may two of your servants to go upon a message by my say, without boasting, that none have ever taxed authority; and as I am in the commission of the the injustice of Sir William Thornhill.”

peace, I undertake to secure you.”—“Your proWe now found the personage whom we had so mise is sufficient," replied the other, "and you may long entertained as a harmless amusing compan- at a minute's warning send them over England ion, was no other than the celebrated Sir William whenever your honour thinks fit." Thornhill, to whose virtues and singularities scarce- In pursuance of the gaoler's compliance Jenkinly any were strangers. The poor Mr. Burchell son was dispatched in search of Timothy Baxter, was in reality a man of large fortune and great in- while we were amused with the assiduity of our terest, to whom senates listened with applause, youngest boy Bill, who had just come in, and and whom party heard with conviction; who was climbed up Sir William's neck in order to kiss the friend of his country, but loyal to his king. My him. His mother was immediately going to chaspoor wife, recollecting her former familiarity, seem- tise his familiarity, but the worthy man prevented ed to shrink with apprehension; but Sophia, who her; and taking the child, all ragged as he was, a few moments before thought him her own, now upon his knee, "What, Bill, you chubby rogue," perceiving the immense distance to which he was cried he, "do you remember your old friend Burchremoved by fortune, was unable to conceal her tears. ell? and Dick too, my honest veteran, are you "Ah, sir," cried my wife with a piteous aspect, here? you shall find I have not forgot you." So "how is it possible that I can ever have your for- saying, he gave each a large piece of gingerbread, giveness? The slights you received from me the which the poor fellows ate very heartily, as they last time I had the honour of seeing you at our had got that morning but a very scanty breakfast.

"If this," cried Sir William, "be as you have stated it, there is nothing unpardonable in your of fence; and though your conduct might have been more generous in not suffering this gentleman to be oppressed by subordinate tyranny, yet it has been at least equitable."

We now sat down to dinner, which was almost | hardship or injustice in pursuing the most legal cold, but previously, my arm still continuing pain- means of redress." ful, Sir William wrote a prescription, for he had made the study of physic his amusement, and was more than moderately skilled in the profession: this being sent to an apothecary who lived in the place, my arm was dressed, and I found almost instantaneous relief. We were waited upon at dinner by the gaoler himself, who was willing to do "He can not contradict a single particular," reour guest all the honour in his power. But before plied the 'Squire; “I defy him to do so; and several we had well dined, another message was brought of my servants are ready to attest what I say. Thus, from his nephew, desiring permission to appear in sir," continued he, finding that I was silent, for in order to vindicate his innocence and honour; with fact I could not contradict him; "thus, sir, my own which request the baronet complied, and desired innocence is vindicated: but though, at your enMr. Thornhill to be introduced.

CHAPTER XXXI.

Former Benevolence now repaid with unexpected interest.

treaty, I am ready to forgive this gentleman every other offence, yet his attempts to lessen me in your esteem excite a resentment that I can not govern; and this, too, at a time when his son was actually preparing to take away my life;-this, I say, was such guilt, that I am determined to let the law take its course. I have here the challenge that was sent MR. THORNHILL made his appearance with a me, and two witnesses to prove it: one of my sersmile, which he seldom wanted, and was going to vants has been wounded dangerously; and even embrace his uncle, which the other repulsed with though my uncle himself should dissuade me, which en air of disdain. "No fawning, sir, at present," I know he will not, yet I will see public justice cried the baronet, with a look of severity; "the only done, and he shall suffer for it." way to my heart is by the road of honour; but here

"Thou monster," cried my wife, "hast thou not I only see complicated instances of falsehood, cow-had vengeance enough already, but must my poor ardice, and oppression. How is it, sir, that this boy feel thy cruelty? I hope that good Sir William poor man, for whom I know you professed a friend- will protect us; for my son is as innocent as a child: ship, is used thus hardly? His daughter vilely I am sure he is, and never did harm to man." seduced as a recompense for his hospitality, and he "Madam," replied the good man, "your wishes himself thrown into prison, perhaps but for resent- for his safety are not greater than mine; but I am ing the insult? His son, too, whom you feared to sorry to find his guilt too plain; and if my nephew face as a man—” persists" But the appearance of Jenkinson and "Is it possible, sir," interrupted his nephew, the gaoler's two servants now called off our atten"that my uncle could object that as a crime, which tion, who entered, hauling in a tall man, very his repeated instructions alone have persuaded me genteelly dressed, and answering the description to avoid?" already given of the ruffian who had carried off my "Your rebuke," cried Sir William, "is just; daughter:-"Here,” cried Jenkinson, pulling him you have acted in this instance prudently and well, in, "here we have him; and if ever there was a though not quite as your father would have done: candidate for Tyburn, this is one." my brother, indeed, was the soul of honour; but The moment Mr. Thornhill perceived the pri thou-Yes, you have acted in this instance per-soner, and Jenkinson who had him in custody, he fectly right, and it has my warmest approbation." seemed to shrink back with terror. His face be"And I hope," said his nephew, "that the rest came pale with conscious guilt, and he would have of my conduct will not be found to deserve censure. withdrawn; but Jenkinson, who perceived his deI appeared, sir, with this gentleman's daughter at sign, stopped him.-"What, 'Squire," cried he, some places of public amusement: thus, what was "are you ashamed of your two old acquaintances, levity, scandal called by a harsher name, and it was Jenkinson and Baxter? but this is the way that all reported that I had debauched her. I waited on great men forget their friends, though I am resolved her father in person, willing to clear the thing to we will not forget you. Our prisoner, please your his satisfaction, and he received me only with in- honour," continued he, turning to Sir William, sult and abuse. As for the rest, with regard to his "has already confessed all. This is the gentleman being here, my attorney and steward can best in- reported to be so dangerously wounded. He de form you, as I commit the management of business clares that it was Mr. Thornhill who first put him entirely to them. If he has contracted debts, and upon this affair; that he gave him the clothes he now is unwilling, or even unable, to pay them, it is their wears, to appear like a gentleman; and furnished business to proceed in this manner; and I see no him with the post-chaise. The plan was laid be