broker for your merchandize: here is the abstract of the net proceeds.

[Gives a paper to Aub. who peruses it some time. Mort. That's lucky, as I live:-1 see an honest man never can want weapons to defeat a knave.And, pray, sir, what might be your profit on this sale; double commission for a breach of trust-that is the rule of trade, I think.

Napth. I work as others;-I do nothing below market-price.

Mort. You're right, sir; 'twould be starving many an honest family, if you made roguery too cheap.But get you gone together to my library; I observe a person coming who will interrupt you.―Hark'e, Mr. Aubrey, have an eye to our Jew.

Aub. Trust him to me; I'm pretty well accustom'd to their dealings. [Exit with Napth.

Enter Dr. DRUID.

Dr. Druid. Save you, sir, save you; is it true I pray you, that a learned gentleman, a traveller, but just arrived, is now with you?

Mort. There is a person under that description in my house.

Dr. Druid. May he be seen, good now? May he be talked with? What has he brought home? Is he well stored with oriental curiosities?

Mort. Faith, sir, indifferent well; he has brought a considerable parcel of sun-dried bricks from the ruins

of antient Babylon, a heavy collection of ores from the mines of Siberia, and a pretty large cargo of common salt from the banks of the Caspian.

Dr. Druid. Inestimable !

Mort. Oh, sir, mere ballast.

Dr. Druid. Ballast indeed; and what discoveries does he draw from all these?

Mort. Why, he has discovered that the bricks are not fit for building; the mines not worth the working, and the salt not good for preserving: in short, Doctor, he has no taste for these trifles; he has made the human heart his study; he loves his own species, and does not care if the whole race of butterflies was extinct.

Dr. Druid. Yes, putterflies-'tis in my mind, d'ye see, what you have said about my putterflies; 'tis upon my memory; but no matter-your studies, Mr. Mortimer, and mine, are wide asunder.-But go on -reform the world, you'll find it a tough task; I am content to take it as I find it.

Mort. While the sun shines, you'll carry a candle; how will that light them, who travel in the night? Away with such philosophers, here comes an honest man, and that's a character worth ten on't.,

Enter COLIN.

So, Colin, what's the news with you ?. If I'm to augur from your countenance, something goes wrong at your house.

Colin. Troth, sir, no mighty matter; only Laird

Abberville has turned away a troublesome fellow, who bore your honour grete gude will.

Mort. What is't you tell me? Is my Lord determined upon ruin, that he puts away the only honest man belonging to him?

Dr. Druid. By this coot light, and that is well remembered; look'e, I got your wages: come, hold out your hand.

Colin. Excuse me, I'll ha' none on't.

Dr. Druid. No wages? Why 'tis all coot money; 'tis in full. What, man, think better on't: you'll want it when you get to Scotland, ten to one else.

Colin. Like enow, but by my sol I'l! touch na siller; he has geen a title to me, which I hanna merited, Heaven knows, nor ever shall.

Mort. What title has he given you?

Colin. Saving your presence, it ha' pleas'd my Laird to say, I am a rascal; but I'll na wear a rascal's wages in a Scotish pouch: de'il o' my soul, I'd sooner eat my stroud for famine.

Mort. I think thou would'st, but wait a while with patience; this rash young man's affairs press to a crisis; I have yet one effort more to make, which if it fails I shall take leave of him as well as you.

Enter JARVIS.

Jar. Lord Abberville, sir, desires to speak with ́

you.

Mort. That's well, Colin, go you with honest Jarvis. Doctor, for once let us unite our studies in

this cause; come you with me; if my advice can rescue your unhappy pupil from a course of guilty Occupations, your philosophy may furnish harmless ones to fill their place: make haste, make haste, here comes the Bridgemores. [Exeunt.

Enter Servant, introducing BRIDGEMORE, his Wife and

Daughter.

Serv. Please to walk in here; my master will wait upon you immediately.

Bridge. Nobody here!-Hark'e, friend, I expect ed to meet a stranger: a Gentleman just landed from Scanderoon. Know you of such a one?

Serv. He is now in the house.

Luc. And Mr. Tyrrel, sir, is he at home?

Serv. He is; they both will wait upon you presently. [Exit. Bridge. That's well, that's well; as for old surlyboots we could well spare his company; 'tis a strange dogged fellow, and execrated by all mankind.

Mrs. Bridge. Thank Heaven, he is a man one seldom meets; I little thought of ever setting foot in his house I hope the savage won't grow ceremonious and return the visit.

Luc. Unless he brings his nephew in his hand.

Enter MORTIMER.

Mort. Ladies, you do me honour. Mr. Bridgemore, you come here upon a melancholy errandBridge. True, sir, but death you know is common

T

to all men; I look'd to meet a Gentleman here-this is all lost time.

Mort. True: therefore, before he comes, let us fill it up with something more material: I have a business to propose to you, which I consider as my own. You must know, sir, I've a nephew

Bridge. Mr. Tyrrel, I suppose?

Mort. The same.

Mrs. Bridge. Mind that, Lucy, he is opening his commission.

Luc. La, maʼam, you put me into such a flutterMort. There is a certain Lady, Mr. Bridgemore, whom, on this occasion, you must father.

: Bridge. How tedious he is! Cou'dn't he as well have nam'd my daughter-Well, sir, what are your expectations from that lady?

Mort. Nay, nothing but what you can readily supply: I know no good thing she stands in want of, but a fortune.

Bridge. Well, and who doubts but on a proper occasion I shall give her one? Ay, and a tolerable for. tune too, Mr. Mortimer, as times go.

Mort. The fortune you was to have given my ward, Lord Abberville, will just suffice: I think the sum was forty thousand pounds.

Bridge. Why you speak out at once.

Mort. That's ever been my custom; I abominate long sleepy processes; life don't allow of 'em.

Bridge. But I hear nothing on your part; Mr. Tyrrel, as I take it, is wholly dependant on your