MR. Bragwell and Mr. Worthy hap­pened to meet last year at Weyhill Fair. They were glad to see each other [...] they had but seldom met of late; Mr. Bragwell having removed some years be­fore from Mr. Worthy's neighbourhood to a distant village where he had bough an Estate.

Mr. Bragwell was a substantial Farme [...] and Grazier. He had risen in the wo [...] by what worldly men call a run of goo [...] fortune. He had also been a man of great industry; that is, he had paid a dilige [...] and constant attention to his own intere [...] He understood business, and had a kn [...] of turning almost every thing to his own advantage. He had that sort of sense which good men call cunning, and knave [...] call wisdom. He was too prudent eve [...] to do any thing so wrong that the law could take hold of him; yet he was not over scrupulous about the morality of [...] action, when the prospect of enriching himself by it was very great, and the [Page 4] chance of hurting his character was small. The corn he sent home to his customers was not always quite so good as the [...]amples he had produced at Market, and he now and then forgot to name some ca­pital blemish in the horses he sold at the Fair. He scorned to be guilty of the pet­ty frauds of cheating in weights and mea­sures, for he thought that was a beggarly sin; but he valued himself on his skill in making a bargain, and fancied it shewed his knowledge of the world to take advan­tage of the ignorance of a dealer.

It was his constant rule to undervalue every thing he was about to buy, and to overvalue every thing he was about to sell; [...] as he prided himself on his character he avoided every thing that was very shameful, so that he was considered mere­ly as a hard dealer, and a keen hand at a bargain. Now and then when he had been caught in pushing his own advantage too far, he contrived to get out of the scrape by turning the whole into a jest, saying it was a good take in, a rare joke and that he had only a mind to divert him­self with the folly of his neighbour who could be so easily imposed on.

[Page 5] Mr. Bragwell had one favourite maxim, namely, that a man's success in life was a sure proof of his wisdom; and that all failure and misfortune was the consequence of a man's own folly. As thi [...] opinion was first taken up by him from vanity and ignorance; so it was more and more confirmed by his own prosperity▪ He saw that he himself had succeeded greatly without either money or education to begin with, and he therefore no [...] despised every Man, however excelle [...] his character or talents might be, who ha [...] not had the same success in life. His natural disposition was not particularly ba [...] but prosperity had hardened his hear [...] ▪ He made his own progress in life the ru [...] by which the conduct of all other me [...] was to be judged, without any allowanc [...] for their peculiar disadvantages, or th [...] visitations of Providence. He though [...] for his part, that every man of sense coul [...] command success on his undertaking and control and dispose the events of hi [...] own life.

But though he considered those who ha [...] had less success than himself as no bett [...] than fools, yet he did not extend this opinion [Page 6] to Mr. Worthy, whom he looked upon not only as a good but a wise man. They had been bred up when children in the same house, but with this differ­ence, that Worthy was the nephew of the master, and Bragwell the son of the ser­vant.

Bragwell's father had been ploughman in the family of Mr. Worthy's uncle, a sensible man, who farmed a small estate of his own, and who, having no children, [...]red up young Worthy as his son, in­ [...]ructed him in the business of husbandry and at his death left him his estate. The [...]ather of Worthy was a pious Clergyman who lived with his brother the farmer, in order to help out a narrow income. He and bestowed much pains on the instructi­on of his son, and used frequently to re­ [...]eat to him a saying which he had picked [...]p in a book, written by one of the great­est men in this Country, "that there were [...]wo things with which every man ought [...]o be acquainted, RELIGION AND HIS [...]WN BUSINESS. While he therefore [...]ook care that his son should be made an excellent Farmer, he filled up his leisure [...]ours in improving his mind; so that [Page 7] young Worthy had read more good Books and understood them better than most men in his station. His reading howe­ver had been chiefly confined to husban­dry and divinity, the two subjects which were of the most immediate importance to him.

The reader will see by this time that Mr. Bragwell and Mr. Worthy were likely to be as opposite to each other as two men could well be, who were nearly of the same age and condition, and who were neither of them without credit in the world. Bragwell indeed made far the greater figure, for he liked to cut a dash, as he called it. And while it was the study of Worthy to conform to his stati­on, and to set a good example to those about him, it was the delight of Bragwell to vie in his way of life with men of lar­ger fortune. He did not see how much this vanity raised the ill-will of his equals and the contempt of his betters.

His Wife was a notable stirring Wo­man, but vain, violent and ambitious; very ignorant, and very high minded. She had married Bragwell before he was [Page 8] worth a shilling, and as she had brought him a good deal of money, she thought herself the grand cause of his rising in the world, and thence took occasion to govern him most completely. Whenever he ven­tured to oppose her she took care to put him in mind, "that he owed every thing to her, that had it not been for her he might still have been stumping after a Plow-tail, or serving Hogs in old Worthy's Farm-Yard, but that it was she who had made a Gentleman of him. In order to set about making him a Gentleman, she began by teazing him till he had turned away all his poor relations who worked in the Farm. She next drew him off from keeping company with his old ac­quaintance, and at last persuaded him to remove from the place where he had got his money. Poor Woman! she had not sense and virtue enough to see how ho­nourable it is for a man to raise himself in the world by fair means, and then to help forward his poor relations and friends, engaging their service by his kindness, and endeavouring to keep want out of his family.

[Page 9] Mrs. Bragwell was an excellent mis­tress, according to her own notions of excellence, for no one could say that she ever lost an opportunity of scolding a ser­vant, or was ever guilty of the weakness of overlooking a fault. Towards her two daughters her behaviour was far other­wise. In them she could see nothing but perfections: but her extravagant fondness for these girls was full as much owing to pride as to affection. She was bent on making a family, and having found out that she was too ignorant, and too much trained to the habits of getting money, ever to hope to make a figure herself, she looked to her daughters as the persons who were to raise the family of the Brag­wells: And in this hope she foolishly submitted to any drudgery for their sakes, and to any impertinence from them.

The first wish of her heart was to set them above their neighbours; for she u­sed to say "what was the use of having substance, if her daughters might not car­ry themselves above girls who had no­thing?" To do her justice, she herself would be about early and late to see tha [...] the business of the house was not neglect­ed. [Page 10] She had been bred to great industry, and continued to work when it was no longer necessary, both from early habit, and the desire of heaping up money for her daughters. Yet her whole notion of gentility was, that it consisted in being rich and idle, and though she was willing to be a drudge herself, she resolved to make her daughters gentlewomen. To be well dressed, and to do nothing, or no­thing that was of any use, was what she fancied distinguished people in genteel life. And this is too common a notion of a fine education among some people. They do not esteem things by their use, but by their shew. They estimate the va­lue of their children's education by the money it costs, and not by the knowledge and goodness it bestows. People of this stamp often take a pride in the expence of learning, instead of taking pleasure in the advantage of it. And the silly vanity of letting others see that they can afford any thing, often sets parents on letting their daughters learn not only things of no use, but things which may be really hurtful in their situation; either by set­ting them above their proper duties, or [Page 11] by taking up their time in a way incon­sistent with them.

Mrs. Bragwell sent her daughters to a boarding School, where she wished them to hold up their heads as high as any bo­dy; to have more spirit than to be put up­on by any one, never to be pitiful about money, but rather to shew that they could spend with the best; to keep company with the richest girls in the School, and to make no acquaintance with Farmer's Daughters.

They came home at the usual age of leaving School, with a large portion of vanity grafted on their native ignorance. The vanity was added but the ignorance was not taken away. Of Religion they could not possibly learn any thing, since none was taught, for at that place it was considered as a part of education which belonged only to Charity Schools. Of knowledge they got just enough to laugh at their fond parents' rustic manners and vulgar language, and just enough taste to despise and ridicule every girl who was not as vainly dressed as themselves.

[Page 12] The Mother had been comforting her­self for the heavy expence of their bring­ing up, by looking forward to the plea­sure of seeing them become fine ladies, and to the pride of marrying them above their station.

Their Father hoped also that they would be a comfort to him both in sick­ness and in health. He had no learning himself, and could write but poorly, and owed what skill he had in figures to his natural turn for business. He hoped that his daughters, after all the money he had spent on them, would now write his let­ters and keep his accounts. And as he was now and then laid up with a fit of the gout, he was enjoying the prospect of having two affectionate children to nurse him.

When they came home however, he had the mortification to find, that though he had two smart showy ladies to visit him, he had neither dutiful daughters to nurse him, nor faithful stewards to keep his books. They neither soothed him by kindness when he was sick, nor helped him when he was busy. They thought [Page 13] the maid might take care of him in the gout as she did before. And as to their skill in cyphering he soon found to his cost, that though they knew how to spend both Pounds, Shillings, and Pence, yet they did not know so well how to cast them up.

Mrs. Bragwell one day being very bu­sy in making a great dinner for the neigh­bours, ventured to request her daughters to assist in making the pastry. They asked her scornfully "whether she had sent them to Boarding School to learn to cook; and added, that they supposed she would ex­pect them next to make puddings for the bay-makers." So saying they coolly march­ed off to their music. When the Mo­ther found her girls were too polite to be of any use, she would take comfort in ob­serving how her parlour was set out with their Fillagree and Flowers, their Em­broidery and cut paper. They spent the morning in bed, the noon in dressing, the evening at the Spinnet, and the night in reading Novels.

With all these fine qualifications it is easy to suppose that as they despised their [Page 14] [...]ober duties, they no less despised their plain neighbours. When they could not get to a horse race, a petty ball, or a strol­ling play, with some company as idle and as smart as themselves, they were driven for amusement to the Circulating Library. Jack the plowboy, on whom they had now put a livery jacket, was employed half his time in trotting backwards and forwards with the most wretched trash the little neighbouring book shop could fur­nish. The choice was often left to Jack, who could not read, but who had gene­ral orders to bring all the new things, and a great many of them.

Things were in this state, or rather growing worse, for idleness and vanity are never at a stand; when these two wealthy farmers, Bragwell and Worthy met at Weyhill Fair, as was said before. After many hearty salutations had passed between them, it was agreed that Mr. Bragwell should spend the next day with his old friend, whose house was not many miles distant, which Bragwell invited himself to do in the following manner, "we have not had a comfortable day's that for years, said he, and as I am to [Page 15] look at a drove of lean beasts in your neighbourhood, I will take a bed at your house, and we will pass the evening in debating as we used to do. You know I always loved a bit of an argument, and am reckoned not to make the worst figure at our club: I had not, to be sure, such good learning as you had, because your father was a Parson, and you got it for nothing. But I can bear my part pretty well for all that. When any man talks to me about his learning, I ask if it has helped him to get a good estate; if he says no, then I would not give him a rush for it; for of what use is all the learning in the world if it does not make a man rich? But as I was saying, I will come and see you to-morrow; but now don't let your wife put herself into a fuss for me. Don't alter your own plain way, for I am not proud I assure you, nor above my old friends, though I thank GOD I am pret­ty well in the world.

To all this flourishing speech Mr. Wor­thy coolly answered, that certainly world­ly prosperity ought never to make any man proud since it is GOD who giveth strength to get riches, and without his [Page 16] blessing 'tis in vain to rise up early and to eat the bread of carefulness.

About the middle of the next day Mr. Bragwell reached Mr. Worthy's neat and pleasant dwelling. He found every thing in it the reverse of his own. It had not so many ornaments but it had more comforts. And when he saw his friend's good old fashioned arm chair in a warm corner, he gave a sigh, to think how his own had been banished to make room for his daughter's Music. Instead of made flowers in glass cases, and a tea chest and screen too fine to be used, and about which he was cautioned, and scolded as often as he came near them, he saw a neat shelf of good books for the service of the family, and a small medicine chest for the benefit of the poor.

Mrs. Worthy and her daughters had prepared a plain but neat and good din­ner. The tarts were so excellent that Bragwell felt a secret kind of regret that his own daughters were too genteel to do any thing so very useful. Indeed he had been always unwilling to believe that any thing which was very proper and very [Page 17] necessary, could be so extremely vulgar and unbecoming as his daughters were always declaring it to be. And his late experience of the little comfort he found at home, inclined him now still more strongly to suspect that things were not so right as he had been made to suppose. But it was in vain to speak; for his daugh­ters constantly stopped his mouth by a favourite saying of theirs, "better be out of the world than out of the fashion."

Soon after dinner the women went out to their several employments, and Mr. Worthy being left alone with his guest the following discourse took place.

You have a couple of sober, pretty looking girls, Worthy; but I won­der they do not tip off a little more. Why my girls have as much fat and flour on their heads as would half maintain my reapers in suet pudding.

Mr. Bragwell, in the man­agement of my family, I don't consider what I might afford only, though that is one great point; but I consider also what is needful and becoming in a man of my [Page 18] station, for there are so many useful ways of laying out money, that I feel as if it were a sin to spend one unnecessary shil­ling. Having had the blessing of a good education myself, I have been able to give the like advantage to my daughters. One of the best lessons I have taught them is, to know themselves: and one proof that they have learnt this lesson is, that they are not above any of the duties of their station. They read and write well, and when my eyes are bad they keep my accounts in a very pretty manner, If I had put them to learn what you call genteel things these might either have been of no use to them, and so both time and money might have been thrown away; or they might have proved worse than nothing to them by leading them into wrong notions; and wrong company. Though we don't wish them to do the laborious parts of the dairy work, yet they always assist their Mother in the management of it. As to their appearance, they are every day nearly as you see them now, and on Sun­days they are very neatly dressed, but it is always in a decent and modest way. There are no lappets, fringes, furbelows, and tawdry ornaments, fluttering about [Page 19] among my cheese and butter. And I should feel no vanity, but much mortifi­cation, if a stranger seeing Farmer Wor­thy's daughters at Church should ask who those fine ladies were?

Now I own I should like to have such a question asked concerning my daughters. I like to make people stare and envy. It makes one feel one­self somebody. But as to yourself, to be sure you best know what you can afford. And indeed there is some difference be­tween your daughters and the Miss Brag­wells.

For my part, before I engage in any expence I always ask myself these two short questions, First, can I afford it?—Secondly—Is it proper for me?

Do you so? Now I own I ask myself but one. For if I find I can afford it, I take care to make it proper for me. If I can pay for a thing, no one has a right to hinder me from having it.

Certainly. But a man's own prudence and sense of duty, ought to pre­vent [Page 20] him from doing an improper thing, as effectually as if there were somebody to hinder him.

Now I think a man is a fool who is hindered from having any thing he has a mind to; unless indeed he is in want of money to pay for it; I am no friend to debt. A poor man must want on.

But I hope my children have learnt not to want any thing which is not proper for them. They are very indus­trious, they attend to business all day; and in the evening they sit down to their work and a good book. I think they live in the fear of GOD. I trust they are hum­ble and pious, and I am sure they seem cheerful and happy. If I am sick, it is pleasant to see them dispute which shall wait upon me; for they say the maid cannot do it so tenderly as them­selves.—

This part of the discourse staggered Bragwell. Vain as he was, he could not help feeling what a difference a religious and a worldly education made on the [Page 21] heart, and how much the former regula­ted even the natural temper. Another thing which surprised him was, that these girls living a life of domestic piety, with­out any public diversions, should be so very cheerful and happy, while his own daughters, who were never contradicted, and were indulged with continual amuse­ments, were always sullen and ill tem­pered. That they who were more hu­moured should be less grateful and hap­py, disturbed him much. He envied Worthy the tenderness of his children, though he would not own it, but turned it off thus.

But my girls are too smart to make mopes of, that is the truth. Though ours is such a lonely village, 'tis wonderful to see how soon they get the fashions. What with the descriptions in the Magazines, and the pictures in the pocket Books, they have them in a twink­ling, and out-do their patterns all to no­thing. I used to take in the Country Jour­nal, because it was useful enough to see how Oats went, the time of high water, and the price of Stocks. But when my ladies came home forsooth, I was soon [Page 22] wheedled out of that, and forced to take a London paper, that tells a deal about caps and feathers, and all the trumpery of the quality. When I want to know what hops are a bag, they are snatching the paper to see what violet soap is a pound. And as to the dairy, they never care how Cow's milk goes, as long as they can get some stuff which they call Milk of Roses.

But do your daughters never read?

Read! I believe they do too. Why our Jack the Plow boy spends half his time in going to a shop in our Market town, where they let out books to read with marble covers. And they sell paper with all manner of colours on the edges, and gim cracks, and powder-puffs, and wash-balls, and cards without any pips, and every thing in the world that's genteel and of no use. 'Twas but t'other day I met Jack with a basket full of these books, so having some time to spare, I sat down to see a little what they were about.

Well, I hope you there found what was likely to improve your daugh­ters, and teach them the true use of time.

O as to that, you are pret­ty much out. I could make neither head nor tail of it. It was neither fish, flesh, nor good red-herring. It was all about my Lord, and Sir Ha [...]y and the Cap­tain. But I never met with such nonsen­sical fellows in my life. Their talk was no more like that of my old landlord, who was a Lord you know, nor the Cap­tain of our fencibles, than chalk is like cheese. I was fairly taken in at first, and began to think I had got hold of a godly book, for there was a deal about "hope and despair, and heaven, and Angels, and torments, and everlasting happiness." But when I got a little on, I found there was no meaning in all these words, or if any, 'twas a bad meaning. "Misery" perhaps only meant a disappointment a­bout a bit of a letter: and "everlasting happiness" meant two people talking nonsense together for five minutes. In short, I never met with such a pack of lies. The people talk such gibberish as no folks in their sober senses ever talked; [Page 24] and the things that happen to them are not like the things that ever happen to any of my acquaintance. They are at home one minute, and beyond sea the next. Beggars to-day, and Lord's to­morrow. Waiting maids in the morning, and Duchesses at night. You and I, Mas­ter Worthy, have worked hard many years, and think it very well to have scra­ped a trifle of money together, you a few hundreds I suppose, and I a few thousands. But one would think every man in these books had the Bank of England in his scrutoire. Then there's another thing which I never met with in true life. We think it pretty well you know, if one has got one thing, and another has got ano­ther. I'll tell you how I mean. You are reckoned sensible, our Parson is learned, the Squire is rich, I am rather generous, one of your daughters is pretty, and both mine are genteel. But in these books, (except here and there one, whom they make worse than Satan himself) every man and woman's child of them, are all wise, and witty, and generous, and rich, and handsome, and genteel. Nobody is middling, or good in one thing, and bad in another, like my live acquaintance. [Page 25] But 'tis all up to the skies, or down to the dirt. I had rather read Tom Hicka­thrift, or Jack the Giant killer.

You have found out Mr. Bragwell, that many of these books are ridiculous, I will go farther, and say, that to me they appear wicked also. And I should account the reading of them a great mischief, especially to people in middling and low life, if I only take into the ac­count the great loss of time such reading causes, and the aversion it leaves behind for what is more serious and solid. But this, though a bad part is not the worst. These books give false views of human life. They teach a contempt for humble and domestic duties; for industry, frugali­ty, and retirement. Want of youth and beauty, is considered as ridiculous. Plain people, like you and me, are objects of contempt. Parental authority is set at naught. Nay, plots and contrivances, against parents and guardians, fill half the volumes. They make love the great business of human life, and even teach that it is impossible to be regulated or re­strained, and to the indulgence of this passi­on every duty is therefore sacrificed. A [Page 26] country life, with a kind mother, or a so­ber aunt, is described as a state of intole­rable misery. And one would be apt to fancy, from their painting, that a good country house is a prison, and a worthy father the goaler. Vice is set off with every ornament which can make it plea­sing and amiable; while virtue and piety are made ridiculous by tacking to them something that is silly or absurd. Crimes which would be considered as hanging matter at the Old Bailey, are here made to take the appearance of virtue, by be­ing mixed with some wild flight of unna­tural generosity. Those crying sins, ADULTERY, GAMING, DUELS, and SELF MURDER, are made so familiar, and the wickedness of them is so disguised, that even innocent girls get to lose their ab­horrence, and to talk with complacency of things which should not be so much as named by them.

I should not have said so much on this mischief, (continued Mr. Worthy,) from which I dare say, great folks fancy peo­ple in our station are safe enough, if I did not know and lament that this corrupt reading is now got down even among [Page 27] some of the lowest class, And it is an evil which is spreading every day. Poor industrious girls, who get their bread by the needle, or the loom, spend half the night in listening to these books. Thus the labour of one girl is lost, and the minds of the rest are corrupted; for though their hands are employed in honest indus­try, which might help to preserve them from a life of sin, yet their hearts are at that very time polluted by scenes and de­scriptions which are too likely to plunge them into it. And I think I don't go too far, when I say, that the vain and shew [...] manner in which young women who have to work for their bread, have taken to dress themselves, added to the poison they draw from these books, contribute toge­ther to bring them to destruction, more than almost any other cause. Now tell me, don't you think these wild books will hurt your daughters?

Why I do think they are grown full of schemes, and contrivan­ces, and whispers, that's the truth on't. Every thing is a secret. They always seem to be on the look out for something, and when nothing comes on't, then they [Page 28] are sulky and disappointed. They will not keep company with their equals. They despise trade and farming, and I own, I'm for the stuff. I should not like for them to marry any but a man of sub­stance, if he was ever so smart. Now they will hardly sit down with a substan­tial country dealer. But if they hear of a recruiting party in our Market Town, on goes the finery—off they are. Some flimsey excuse is patched up. They want something at the Book-shop, or the Mil­lener's, because I suppose there is a chance that some Jackanapes of an Ensign may be there buying a Sticking plaister. In short I do grow a little uneasy, for I should not like to see all I have saved, thrown away on a Knapsack.

So saying they both rose, and walked out to view the Farm. Mr. Bragwell [...]ffected greatly to admire the good order of every thing he saw; but never forgot to compare it with something larger, and handsomer, or better of his own. It was easy to see that Self was the standard of perfection in every thing. All he possess­ed gained some increased value in his eyes from being his; and in surveying the pro­perty [Page 29] of his friends, he derived food for his vanity, from things which seemed least likely to raise it. Every appearance of comfort, or success, or merit in any thing which belonged to Mr. Worthy, led him to speak of some superior advan­tage of his own of the same kind. And it was clear, that the chief part of the satis­faction he felt in walking over the farm of his friend, was caused by thinking how much larger his own was.

Mr. Worthy, who felt a kindness for him, which all his vanity could not cure, was on the watch how to turn their talk to some useful point. And whenever peo­ple resolve to go into company with this view, it is commonly their own fault if some opportunity of turning it to account does not offer.

He saw Bragwell was intoxicated with pride, and undone by prosperity, and that his family was in the high road to ru­in. He thought that if some means could be found to open his eyes on his own cha­racter, to which he was now totally blind, it might be of the utmost service to him. The more Mr. Worthy reflected, the [Page 30] more he wished to undertake this kind office. He was not sure that Mr. Brag­well would bear it, but he was very sure it was his duty to attempt it. Mr. Wor­thy was very humble, and very candid, and he had great patience and forbearance with the faults of others. He felt no pride at having escaped the same error, for he knew who it was had made them to differ. He remembered that God had giv­en him many advantages, a pious father and a religious Education; this made him humble under a sense of his own sins, and charitable towards the sins of others, who had not the same privileges.

Just as he was going to try to enter in­to a very serious conversation with his guest, he was stopped by the appearance of his daughter, who told them supper was ready.

Soon after supper Mrs. Worthy left the room with her daughters, at her hus­band's desire; for it was his intention to speak more plainly to Bragwell than was likely to be agreeable to him before others.

[Page 31] The two farmers being seated at their little table, each in a handsome old fashi­oned great chair, Bragwell began.

It is a great comfort, neighbour Wor­thy at a certain time of life to be got a­bove the world; my notion is, that a man should labour hard the first part of his days and that he may then sit down and enjoy himself for the remainder. Now though I hate boasting, yet as you are my oldest friend I am about to open my heart to you. Let me tell you then I reckon I have worked as hard as any man in my time, and that I now begin to think I have a right to indulge a little. I have got my money with a good character and I mean to spend it with credit. I pay e­very one his own, I set a good example, I keep to my church, I serve GOD, I ho­nour the king, and I obey the laws of the land.

This is doing a great deal indeed, re­plied Mr. Worthy, but added he, I doubt that more goes to the making up all these duties than men are commonly aware of. Suppose then that you and I talk the mat­ter over coolly, we have the evening be­fore [Page 32] us. What if we sit down together, as two friends and examine one another.

Bragwell, who loved an argument, and was not a little vain both of his sense and his morality, accepted the challenge, and gave his word that he would take in goo [...] part any thing that should be said to him. Worthy was about to proceed when Brag­well interrupted him for a moment, by saying,—But stop friend, before we begin I wish you would remember that we have had a long walk, and I want a little re­freshment; have you no liquor that is stronger than this cider? I am afraid it will give me a fit of the gout.

Mr. Worthy immediately produced a bottle of wine and another of spirits, say­ing though he drank neither spirits nor even wine himself, yet his wife always kept a little of each as a provision in case of sickness or accident.

Farmer Bragwell prefered the brandy and began to taste it. Why, said he this is no better than English, I always use foreign [...]self. I bought this for fo­reign, said Mr. Worthy. No no, it is [Page 33] English spirits I assure you, but I can put you into a way to get foreign nearly as cheap as English. Mr. Worthy replied that he thought that was impossible.

O no, there are ways and means—a word to the wise—there is an acquaintance of mine that lives upon the south coast—you are a particular friend and I will get you a gallon for a trifle.

Not if it be smuggled Mr. Bragwell, though I should get it for six­pence a bottle.—Ask no questions, says the other, I never say any thing to any one, and who is the wiser? And so this is your way of obeying the laws of the land, said Mr. Worthy—here is a fine specimen of your morality.

Come, come, don't make a fuss about trifles. If every one did it in­deed it would be another thing, but as to my getting a drop of good brandy cheap [...]hy that can't hurt the revenue much.

Pray Mr. Bragwell what should you think of a man who would dip [Page 34] his hand into a bag and take out a few guineas.

Think; why I think that he should be hanged to be sure.

But suppose that bag stood in the king's treasury.

In the king's treasury! worse and worse! What, rob the king's treasury. Well I hope the robber will be taken up and executed, for I suppose we shall all be taxed to pay the damage.

Very true. If one man takes money out of the treasury others must be obliged to pay the more into it; but what think you if the fellow should be found to have stopped some money in it's way to the treasury instead of taking it out of the bag after it got there.

Guilty, Mr. Worthy, it is all the same in my opinion. If I was [...] Jury-man, I should say guilty, death.

Hark ye Mr. Bragwell, he that deals in smuggled brandy, is the man [Page 35] who takes to himself the king's money in it's way to the treasury, and he as much robs the government as if he dipt his hands into a bag of guineas in the treasury cham­ber. It comes to the same thing exactly. Here Bragwell seemed a little offended. What Mr. Worthy; do you pretend to say I am not an honest man because I like to get my brandy as cheap as I can? and because I like to save a shilling to my fa­mily? Sir, I repeat it, I do my duty to GOD and my neighbour.—I say the Lord's prayer most days, I go to church on Sun­days, I repeat my creed and keep the ten commandments, and though I may now and then get a little brandy cheap, yet upon the whole, I will venture to say, I do as much as can be expected of any man.

Come then, since you say you keep the commandments, you can­not be offended if I ask you whether you understand them.

To be sure I do. I dare say I do, lookee, Mr. Worthy, I don't pretend to much reading, I was not bred to it as you were. If my father had been a per­son I fancy I should have made as good a [Page 36] figure as some other folks, but I hope good sense and a good heart may teach a man his duty without much scholarship.

To come to the point let us now go through the ten commandments, and let us take along with us those expla­nations of them which our Saviour gave us in his sermon on the mount.

Sermon on the mount! why the ten commandments are in the 20th chapter of Exodus. Come, come, Mr. Worthy, I know where to find the com­mandments as well as you do, for it hap­pens that I am church-warden, and I can [...] altar piece where the ten com­mandments are without your telling me, [...]or my pew directly faces it.

But I advise you to read the sermon on the mount, that you may see the full meaning of them.