freshment, you made game of him. Which then is the best bred, you or the farmer?

Robert blufhed, and feemed at a lofs what anfwer to make; but at length replied, that it was his duty to receive them well, as he got his living off their lands. "That is true, anfwered Sir John, but it may be eafily feen who draws the greatest profit from my lands, the farmer or I. He indeed feeds his horfes with hay which he gets off my meadows, but his horfes in return plow the fields, which otherwife would be overrun with weeds. He alfo feeds his cows and his fheep with the hay; but their dung is ufeful in giving fertility to the ground. His wife and children are fed with the harveft corn; but they in return devote the fummer to weeding the crops; and afterwards, fome in reaping them, and fome in threfhing. All thefe labours end in my advantage. The rest of the hay and corn he takes to market to fell, and with the produce thereof he pays his rent. From this it is evident, who derives the greateft profit from my lands"

Here a long paufe enfued; but at laft, Robert cofeffed that he faw his error. "Remember then all your life, faid Sir John, what has now been offered to your eyes and ears. This farmer fo homely dreffed, whofe manners you have con

fidered as fo ruftic, this man is better bred than you; and, though he knows nothing of Latin, he knows much more than you, and things of much greater ufe. You fee, therefore, how unjuft it is to defpife any one for the plainnefs of his drefs, and the rufticity of his manners. You may understand a little Latin, but you know not how to plow, fow grain, or reap the harveft, nor even to prune a tree. Sit down with being convinced that you have defpifed your fuperior.

Nature expects mankind fhould fhare
The duties of the public care.

Who's born for floth? To fome we find
The plow-fhares annual toil affign'd,
Some at the founding anvil glow;

Some the swift-fliding shuttle throw :
Some ftudious of the wind and tide,
From pole to pole our commerce guide.
Some taught by industry, impart
With hand and feet the works of art:
While fome, of genius more refin'd,
With head and tongue affist mankind :
Each aiming at one common end,
Proves to the whole a needful friend.
Thus born each others useful aid,

By turns are obligations paid.

The monarch, when his table's spread,

Is to the clown oblig'd for bread;

And when in all his glory dreft,
Owes to the loom the royal veft.
Do not the mafon's toil and care
Protect him from th' inclement air?
Does not the cutler's art fupply
The ornament that guards his thigh?
Thus they their honeft toil employ,
And with content their fruits enjoy.
In ev'ry rank, or great or fmail,
'Tis industry supports us all.

Confider fot what would enfue,
Were all fuch worthlefs things as you.
You'd foon be forc'd, by hunger ftung
To make your dirty meals on dung ;
On which fuch defpicable need,
Unpitied, is reduc'd to feed.

Befides, vain felfish infect, learn,
If you can right and wrong difcern,
That he who, with induftrious zeal,
Contributes to the public weal,
By adding to the common good,
His own hath rightly understood.

MR.

R. VENABLES, one fine fummer day, having promised his two children, Alfred and Dorinda, to treat them with a walk in a fine garden a little way out of town, went up into his dreffing-room to prepare himself, leaving the two children in the parlour.

Alfred was fo delighted with the thoughts of the pleasure he fhould receive from his walk, that he jumped about the room, without thinking of any evil confequence that could happen; but unluckily

the skirt of his coat brushed against a very valuable flower, which his father was rearing with great pains, and which he had unfortunately just removed from before the window, in order to skreen it from the fcorching heat of the fun.

"O brother! brother! (faid Dorinda taking up the flower which was broken off from the stalk) what have you done!" The fweet girl was holding the flower in her hand, when her father, having dreffed himfelf came into the parlour. "Blefs me, Dorinda, faid Mr. Venables, in an angry tone, how could you be fo thoughtless as to pluck a flower, which you had feen me take fo much care to rear, in order to have feed from it." Poor Dorinda was in fuch a fright, that she could only beg her papa not to be angry. Mr. Venables, growing more calm, replied he was not angry, but reminded her, that as they were going to a garden where there was a variety of flowers, fhe might have waited till they had got there to indulge her fancy. He therefore hoped fhe would not take it amifs if he left her at home.

This was a terrible fituation for Dorinda, who held her head down, and faid nothing. Little Alfred, however, was of too generous a temper to keep filence any longer. He went up to his papa, with his eyes fwimming in tears, and told him,

L