down than that, so beautiful were its leaves, and so delicious its fruit.

10. As his father was a man of good sense, he thus moralized on this occasion: You see then, my son,' said he, 'how impru dently I should have acted, had I followed your advice, and cut down this tree. Daily experience convinces us, that the same thing happens frequently in the commerce of this world, which has in this instance misled you. When we see a child badly clothed, and of an unpleasing external appearance, we are too apt to despise him, and grow conceited on comparing ourselves with him; and sometimes even go so far, as cruelly to address him in haughty and insulting language. But beware, my son, how you run into errours by forming a too hasty judgment. It is possible, that in a person so little favoured by nature, may dwell an exalted soul, which may one day astonish the world with the greatness of its virtues, or enlighten it with knowledge. The most rugged stem may produce the most delicious fruit, while the straight and stately plant may be worthless and barren.'

Emily and Edwin.

1. A WIDOW had two children, Emily and Edwin, both equally deserving the affections of a parent, which, however, were unequally shared. Edwin was the favourite, which Emily very early began to discover, and consequently, felt no small share of uneasiness on the occasion, but she was prudent enough to conceal her sorrow.

2. Emily, though not remarkably handsome, had a mind that made ample amends for the want of beauty; but her brother was a little Cupid, on whom his mother lavished all her favours and caresses.

3. It is no wonder that the servants, to gain the favour of their mistress, were very attentive to humour him in all his wishes.. Emily, on the other hand, was consequently slighted by every one in the house; and, so far from wishing to study her humour, they scarcely treated her with common civility.

4. Finding herself frequently alone and neglected, and taken little notice of by any one, she would privately shed tears; but she always took care that not the least mark of discontent should escape her in the presence of any one.

5. Her constant attention to the observance of her duty, her mildness, and endeavours to convince her mother that her mind was superiour to her face, had no effect; for beauty alone attracts

the attention of those who examine no further than external appearances.

6. The mother, who was continually chiding Emily, and expecting from her perfections far beyond the reach of those more advanced in years, at last fell sick.

7. Edwin seemed very sorry for his mother's illness; but Emily, with the softest looks and most languishing countenance, fancied she perceived in her mother an abatement of her accustomed rigour towards her, and far surpassed her brother in her attention to her parent.

8. She endeavoured to supply her slightest wants, exerted all her penetration to discover them, that she might even spare her the pain of asking for any thing. So long as her mother's illness had the least appearance of danger, she never quitted her pillow, and neither threats nor commands could prevail on her to take the least repose.

9. Their mother, however, at length recovered, which afforded inexpressible pleasure to the amiable Emily; but she soon experienced a renewal of her misfortunes, as her mother began to treat her with her usual severity and indifference.

10. As her mother was one day talking to her children on the pain she had suffered during her illness, and was praising them for the anxiety they had shown on her account, she desired them to ask of her whatever they thought would be the most pleasing to them, and they should certainly be indulged in it, provided their demands were not unreasonable.

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11. First addressing herself to Edwin, she desired to know what he would choose; and his desire was to have a cane and a watch, which his mother promised he should have the next morning. And pray, Emily,' said her mother, what is your wish?' If you do but love me, answered Emily, I have nothing else to wish for! That is not an answer' replied her mother, 'you shall have your recompense likewise; therefore speak your wish instantly.

12. However accustomed Emily might have been to this severe tone, yet she felt it on this occasion more sensibly than ever she had before. She threw herself at her mother's feet, looked up to her with eyes swimming in tears, and instantly hiding her face with both her hands, lisped out these words: Only speak as kindly to me as you do to my brother.'

13. What heart could fail to relent at these words! Her mother felt all the tender sentiments of a parent arise in her heart, and, taking her up in her arms, said she loved her better than ever she did before. The little Emily, who now, for the

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first time, received her mother's caresses, gave way to the effusion of her joy and love. She took hold of her mother's hands; and Edwin, who loved his sister, mixed his embraces with hers. Thus, all had a share in this scene of unexpected happiness.

14. The affection which the mother had so long withheld from Emily, she now repaid with interest, and her daughter returned it with the most dutiful attention. Edwin, so far from being jealous at this change of his mother's affection for his sister, showed every mark of pleasure on the occasion, and he afterwards reaped a reward of so generous a conduct; for his natural disposition having been, in some measure, injured by the too great indulgence of his mother, he gave way in his early days to those little indiscretions, which would have lost him the heart of his parent, had not his sister stepped in between them.

15. It was to the advice of this amiable girl that Edwin at last owed his entire reformation of manners. They all three then experienced, that true happiness cannot exist in a family, unless the most perfect union between brothers and sisters, and the most lively and equal affection between parents and children, are constantly and strictly adhered to.

The story of Bertrand.

1. THINK yourselves happy, my little readers, since none of you, perhaps, know what it is to endure hunger day after day, without being able to enjoy one plentiful meal. Confident I am, that the following relation will not fail to make an impression on your tender hearts:

2. Bertrand was a poor labourer, who had six young children, whom he maintained with the utmost difficulty. To add to his distresses, an unfavourable season much increased the price of bread. This honest labourer worked day and night to procure subsistence for his family, and though their food was of the coarsest kind, yet even of that he could not procure a sufficiency.

3. Finding himself reduced to extremity, be one day called his little family together, and with tears in his eyes, and a heart overflowing with grief, My little children,' said he, bread is now so extravagartly dear, that I find all my efforts to support you ineffectual. My whole day's labour is barely sufficient to purchase this piece of bread which you see in my hand; it must therefore be divided among you, and you must be contented with the little my labour can procure you. Though it will not

afford each of you a plentiful meal, yet it will be sufficient to keep you from perishing with hunger.'

4. Sorrow and tears interrupted his words, and he could say no more, but lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven.

5. His children wept in silence, and young as they were, their little hearts seemed to feel more for their father than for themselves. Bertrand then divided the small portion of bread into seven equal shares, one of which he kept for himself, and gave to the rest each its lot.

6. But one of them, named Harry, refused his share, telling his father he could not eat, pretending to be sick. "What is the matter with you, my son?' said his father, taking him up in his arms. I am very sick,' replied he; very sick indeed, and should be glad to go to sleep. His father then carried him to bed, and wished him a good night.

7. The next morning, the honest labourer, overwhelmed with sorrow, went to a neighbouring physician, and begged of him, as a charity, to come and see his son. Though the physician was sure of never being paid for his visit, yet such were his humanity and feelings, that he instantly went to the labourer's house.

8. On his arrival there, he found no particular symptoms of illness, though the boy was evidently in a low and languishing state. The doctor told him he would send him a cordial draught; but Harry begged he would forbear sending him any thing, as he could do him no good. The doctor was a little angry at this behaviour, and insisted on knowing what his disorder was, threatening him, if he did not tell him immediately, he would go and acquaint his father with his obstinacy.

9. Harry begged the doctor would say nothing about it to his father, which still more increased the doctor's wish to get at the bottom of this mystery. At last, poor Harry, finding the doctor resolute, desired his brothers and sisters might leave the room, and he would acquaint him with every particular.

10. As soon as the physician had sent the children out of the room, Alas,' said little Harry, in this season of scarcity, my father cannot earn bread enough to feed us. What little he can get, he divides equally amongst us, reserving to himself the smallest part. To see my brothers and sisters suffer hunger, is more than I can bear; and as I am the eldest, and stronger than they, I have therefore not eaten any myself, but have divided my share amongst them. It is on this account that I pre

fend to be sick, and unable to eat. I beseech you, however, to keep this a secret from my father.'

11. The physician, wiping away a tear which started involuntarily from his eye, asked poor Harry if he was not then hungry. He acknowledged, indeed, that he was; but said, that did not give him so much affliction as to see the distresses of his family. But, my good lad,' said the doctor, if you do not take some nourishment, you will die.' 'I am indifferent about that,' replied Harry, since my father will have then one less to feed, and I shall go to heaven, where I will pray to God to assist my dear father, and my little sisters and brothers.' 12. What heart but must melt with pity and admiration at the relation of such facts? The generous physician, taking Harry by the hand, No, my dear little boy,' said he, thou shalt not die for want of the necessaries of life. I will take care of your family, and return thanks to God for having sent me hither; I must leave you for the present, but I will soon return.'

13. The good physician returned home, and ordered one of his servants to load himself with refreshments of every kind. He then hastened to the relief of poor Harry, and his distressed brothers and sisters. He made them all sit down at the table, and eat till they were perfectly satisfied. What could be a more pleasing scene, than that which the good physician then beheld, six pretty little innocent creatures smiling over the bounty of their generous and humane friend!

14. The doctor, on his departure, desired Harry to be under no uneasiness, as he should take care to procure them a supply of whatever might be wanting. He faithfully performed his promise, and they had daily cause of rejoicing at his bounty and benevolence. The doctor's generosity was imitated by every good person, to whom he related the affecting story. From some they received provisions, from some money, and from others clothes and linen; so that in a short time, this little family, which was but lately in want of every thing, became possessed of plenty.

15. Bertrand's landlord, who was a gentleman of considerable fortune, was so struck with the tender generosity of little Harry, that he sent for his father, and paying him many compliments on his happiness of having such a son, he offered to take Harry under his own inspection, and bring him up in his own house.

16. This being agreed on, Bertrand's landlord settled an annuity on him, promising, at the same time, to provide for his other children as they grew up. Bertrand, transported with