12. Without frugality none can be rich; and with it, very few would be poor.

13. Though in every age there are some, who by bold adventures, or by favourable accidents, rise suddenly into. riches; the bulk of mankind must owe their affluence to small and gradual profits, below which their expenses must be resolutely reduced.

14. A man's voluntary expenses should not exceed his

income.

15. Let not a man anticipate uncertain profits.

16. The happiness of the generality of people is nothing if it is not known; and very little if it is not envied.

17. To improve the golden moment of opportunity, and catch the good that is within our reach, is the great art of life. Many wants are suffered which might have once been supplied, and much time is lost in regretting the time which has been lost before.

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18. One of the golden precepts of Pythagoras directs. "That a friend should not be hated for little faults."

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II. The COBBLER and his Son.

YOUNG man, son of a cobbler, in a small village near Madrid, having pushed his fortune in the Indies, returned to his native country with a considerable stock, and set up as a banker in Madrid. In his absence, his parents frequently talked of him, praying fervently that heaven would take him under its protection; and the vicar being their friend, gave them frequently the public prayers of the congregation for him.

2. The banker was no less dutiful on his part; for, so soon as he was settled, he mounted on horseback and went alone to the village. It was ten at night before he got there; and the honest cobbler was in bed with his wife, in a sound sleep, when he knocked at the door. Open the door, says the banker, 'tis your son Francillo.

3. Make others believe that if you can, cried the old man, starting from his sleep; go about your business, you thiev ing rogues, here is nothing for you; Francillo, if not dead, is now in the Indies. He is no longer there, replied the banker; he is returned home, and it is he who now speaks to you open your door and receive him.

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4. Jacobo, said the woman, let us rise then; I really believe 'tis Francillo-I think I know his voice. The father starting from bed, lighted a candle; and the mother putting on her gown in a hurry, opened the door. Looking earnestly on Francillo, she flung her arms about his neck, and hugged him with the utmost affection. Jacobo embraced his son in his turn; and all three, transported with joy after so long absence, had no end in expressing their tenderness,

5. After these pleasing transports, the banker put his horse into the stable, where he found an old milch cow, nurse to the whole family. He then gave the old folks an account of his voyage, and of all the riches he had brought from Peru. They listened greedily, and every, the least particular of his relation made on them a sensible impression of grief or joy. Having finished his story, he offered them a part of his estate, and entreated his father not to work any more.

No my son, said Jacobo, I love my trade, and will not leave it. Why, replied the banker, is it not now high time to take your ease? I do not propose your living with me, at Madrid? I know well that a city life will not please you; enjoy your own way of living; but give over your hard labour, and pass the remainder of your days in ease and plenty.

7. The mother seconded the son, and Jacobo yielded. To please you, Francillo, said he, I will not work any more for the public, but will only mend my own shoes and those of my good friend the vicar. The agreement being concluded, the banker ate a couple of eggs and went to his bed, enjoying that pleasing satisfaction which none but dutiful children can feel or understand.

8. The next morning, the banker, leaving his parents a purse of 300 ducats, returned to Madrid; but was surprised to see Jacobo at his house a few days after. My father, said he, what brings you here? Francillo, answered the honest cobbler, I have brought your purse-take it again, for I desire to live by my trade, and have been ready to die with uneasiness ever since I left off working.

III. HONESTY REwarded.

1. PERRIN

ERRIN lost both parents before he could articulate their names, and was obliged to a charity house for his education. At the age of fifteen he was hired by a

farmer to be a shepherd in the neighbourhood of Lucetta, who kept her father's sheep. They often met, and were fond of being together.

2. Five years thus passed, when their sensations became more serious. Perrin proposed to Lucetta to demand her from her father: She blushed and confessed her willingness. As she had an errand to town the next day, the opportunity of her absence was chosen for making the proposal. You want to marry my daughter, said the old man. Have you a house to cover her, or money to maintain her? Lucetta's fortune is not enough for both.

3. It won't do, Perrin, it won't do. But, replied Perrin, I have hands to work. I have laid up twenty crowns of my wages, which will defray the expenses of the wedding. I'll work harder, and lay up more. Well, said the old man, you are young, and may wait a little. Get rich, and my daughter is at your service. Perrin waited for Lucetta's returning in the evening. Has my father given you a refusal? cried Lucetta. Ah Lucetta! replied Perrin, how unhappy am I for being poor: but I have not lost all hopes, My circumstances may change for the better.

4. As they were never tired of conversing together, the night drew on, and it became dark; Perrin making a false step, fell on the ground. He found a bag, which was heavy. Drawing toward a light in the neighbourhood, he found that it was filled with gold. I thank heaven, cries Perrin in a transport, for being favourable to our wishes. This will satisfy your father, and make us happy.

5. In their way to her father's house, a thought struck Perrin; "This money is not ours-It belongs to some stranger and perhaps this moment he is lamenting the loss of it. Let us go to the vicar for advice-he has always been kind to me." Perrin put the bag into the vicar's hand, saying, that at first he looked upon it as a providential present, to remove the only obstacle to their marriage, but that he now doubted whether he could lawfully retain it. The vicar eyed the lovers with attention.

6. He admired their honesty, which appeared even to surpass their affection. Perrin, said he, cherish these sentiments; heaven will bless you. We will endeavour to find out the owner-he will reward thy honesty-I will add what I can spare-you shall have Lucetta. The bag was

advertised in the newspapers, and cried in the neighbouring parishes. Some time having elapsed, and the money not being demanded, the vicar carried it to Perrin.

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if

These twelve thousand livres bear at present no profit you may reap the interest at least-lay them out in such a manner as to insure the sum itself to the owner, he shall appear." A farm was purchased, and the consent of Lucetta's father to the marriage was obtained. Perrin was employed in husbandry, and Lucetta in family affairs. They lived in perfect cordiality, and two children endeared them still more to each other. Perrin one evening returning homeward from his work, saw a chaise overturned, with two gentlemen in it.

8. He ran to their assistance, and offered them every accommodation his small house could afford. This spot, cried one of the gentlemen, is very fatal to me. Ten years ago, I lost here twelve thousand livres. Perrin listened with attention. What search made you for them? said he. It was not in my power, replied the stranger, to make any search. I was hurrying to Port l'Orient to embark for the Indies, for the vessel was ready to sail..

9. Next morning Perrin shewed to his guests his house, his garden, his cattle, and mentioned the produce of his fields. "All these are your property," addressing the gentleman who had lost the bag; the money fell into my hands; I purchased this farm with it; the farm is yours. The vicar has an instrument which secures your property, though I had died without seeing you." The stranger read the instrument with emotion. He looked on Perrin, Lucetta, and the children.

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10. Where am I? cried he-and what do I hear? What virtue in people so low! Have you any other land but this farm? No, replied Perrin-but you will have occasion for a tenant, and I hope you will allow me to remain here. Your honesty deserves a better recompense, answered the stranger. My success in trade has been great, and I have forgot my loss. You are well entitled to this little fortune, keep it as your own.

11. What man in the world would have acted like Perrin? Perrin and Lucetta shed tears of affection and joy. “My dear children," said he, "kiss the hand of your benefactor. Lucetta, this farm now belongs to us, and we can enjoy it

without anxiety or remorse." Thus was honesty rewarded. Let those who desire the reward practice the virtue.

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IV. CHARACTER of a YOUNG LADY.

OPHIA is not a beauty; but in her presence beauties are discontented with themselves. At first she scarcely appears pretty ; but the more she is beheld, the more agreeable she appears. She gains when others lose, and what she gains she never loses. She is equalled by none in a sweet expression of countenance; and without dazzling beholders, she interests them.

2. She loves dress, and is a good judge of it; despises finery, but dresses with peculiar grace, mixing simplicity with elegance. Ignorant she is of what colours are in fashion, but knows well what suits her complexion. She covers her beauties; but so slightly, or rather artfully, as to give play to the imagination. She prepares herself for managing a family of her own, by managing that of her father.

3. Cookery is familiar to her, with the price and quality of provisions; and she is a ready accountant. Her chief view. however, is to serve her mother, and lighten her cares. She holds cleanliness and neatness to be indispensable in a woman; and that a slattern is disgusting, especially if beautiful.

4. The attention given to externals. does not make her overlook her more material duties. Sophia's understanding is solid without being profound. Her sensibility is too great for a perfect equality of temper; but her sweetness renders that inequality harmless. A harsh word does not make her angry; but her heart swells, and she retires to disburden it by weeping.

5. Recalled by her father and mother, she comes at the instant, wiping her eyes and appearing cheerful. She suffers with patience any wrong done to her: but is impatient to repair any wrong she has done, and does it so cordially as to make it appear meritorious. If she happens to disoblige a companion, her joy and her caresses, when restored to favour, show the burthen that lay upon her good heart.

6. The love of virtue is Sophia's ruling passion. She loves it, because no other thing is so lovely: She loves it, because it is the glory of the female sex. She loves it as they only road to happiness; misery being the sure attendant of