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THE 
 
 HISTORY OF TOM WE; 
 
 PART I. 
 
 «c^-> far. ^-w^3S£7» 
 
 T 
 
 OlVf WHITE wa*one of the best ckrvers of a 
 _ chaise on the Bath roach Tom was the sp* 
 honest laborer, at a little vi&#. in Wiltshire; hew 
 active industrious boy, and as s> n as he was big enou 
 lefr his fatlief, who was huuhc ed with a numerous fa 
 and went to live with f.nmer Bod^ a sober 
 Sjjt'the same village- t]e drove the waggon all the week 
 on Sum.ays. febugb he was now .grown up, # the farm 
 quired him to art, n ! the Sunday School, earned onun 
 inspection ol ijr^Shepher^ toe worthy vicar, am 
 made him read his Qiblc in the evening, after he ha 
 his beasts, and would h we turned him outof hvs service 
 had ever gone to the ak-house for his own pjeasure. 
 
 Tom by carrying some waggon loads of .fag gets. 
 Bear Inn at Devizes, soon made many. acquaintance 
 stable-yard. He compared bis own WtcPs frock, ■ 
 thick set with nans, with the smai t red jacket arcing 
 of the post-bo vs, and grew ashamed or his own Dome, 
 he was resolved to drive * chaise, to get money, 
 the world. Foolish fellow ! he never consiuea, 
 though it is true, a wagoner works hard ad dav^- 
 aquietevening, and und s:urbod r st alight H?j 
 there mast be chaise-boys as we 1 as plOu#^oys ; 
 
 it exposed him, -as the chief mischief. B ^ 
 Hodset, rhmehnot witnout so. row at qu»ttin p 
 ^/andgothnn.cifhucdat the Blac* bear. 
 
Notwithstanding the temptations to which he was now 
 Lnw-d Tom's o-ood education stood by him for some time. 
 ITaL* he was frh'htened to hear the oaths and wicked words 
 ^ich ' e ton often uttered in a stable-yard. However, 
 Jhoucrh he thought it wrong, he had not tne courage to re- 
 brov? it, and the next to being easy at seeing others sin. m*» 
 K ourselves. Bv deuces he began to trunk it manly, ami 
 iihwk of spirit in others to swear; though tne force ot good 
 BabiYs was so strong, m ii *UM he swore himself it 
 
 W U hu<mf and in a low voice. Rut he ^ soon laughed 
 Kit of his shecpishness. as thev called it; ana though he 
 fever became co prcphme and blasphemous as some oHus 
 l&m'nanions, Yforhe never swore m cold blood, or mmirU:, 
 iis so manv :ro) yet he would too otien use a dreadiul had 
 % rJ. {vHeh'hu^vasin a pa,shm with his horses. And here 
 "lifcannor Hut drop a hint on the great folly as well as Wfcktfd- 
 'Wzs df bebw; in-a g'-eat rage with poor beasts, who, not hav- 
 %g the ^ifcof reason, cannot be moved like human creature % 
 with. alUhe wicked words that are said to them ; but who, 
 Unhappily, ha/mppthe gift of feeling, suffer as mac as human 
 %*ta:u-cs cao :c\ ac the cruel and unneccssmv heatings given 
 Sfeui He had been bred up to think that drunkenness: was 
 SSre'ar sjn, fo'r he^fe'ver saw farmer 'Hodges drunk in his 
 lite, and wbe e a farmer is sober, fens men are less likely to 
 v drink, or if they do, the mascei can reprove them with the 
 better gra ;.e 
 
 ""' Tom was not naturally fond of drink, yet for th'e sake of 
 b^ing thought merry company and -a hearty o ilowj ae often 
 orank more than he ought. As he had been used to go to 
 * Church t \vice on a Sunday, while be lived with i lie fanner, 
 Jvho seldom used his horses on that day, except to ^a: rv his 
 ,'^ife -o church behind him, Tom relta litcle uneaw when he 
 ^.W^s sent the very first Sunday a long journey w : th a g*eat 
 [family '^for I cannot conceal. the troth, that too many gefttle- 
 y *p}fc w5 ll travel when there is no necessity for it on a Sunday, 
 0$M w ^n Monday would answer the end just as Well. This 
 S rcat gtief to ah good and sober people, both rich and 
 .jpopr. However, he kept his thoughts to himself, too ugh he 
 ; v#f?|ild not now and then help thinking how quietly things 
 ; vvere going on at, the farmer's/whose waggoner oti a Sunday 
 lt £§fas easy a hie as if he had been a gentleman, But he soon 
 
 ytlv a 2 
 
ost all tluwghts of this kind, and did not know a Sund 
 from a Monday. Tom went on prosperously, as it is calle 
 for three or four years, got plenty of money, but- saved no 
 shilling. As soon as his horses were once in the stable, wh, 
 ever would might sec them fed for Tom. He had other £< 
 to fry. Fives, cards, cudgel-playing, laying wagers, a* 
 keeping loose company, each of which he at first dislike 
 and then practised, ran away with ail his money, and all ii 
 spare time ; and though he was generally in the way as sooi 
 as the hordes were ready, (because if there was no drivi; 
 there was no pay) yet he did not care whether tire carriap 
 was clean or the horses looked well, if the harness was who! 
 or the horses well shod. The certainty that the gains of'ti 
 morrow would make up for theextravagance of to-day 
 him quite thoughtless and happy, for he was young, activJ 
 and healthy, and never foresaw that a rainy day might con 
 when he would want what he now squandered. 
 
 One day being a little flustered whir liquor, as bed 
 driving his return chaise through Brentford, he sa\v,ji 
 before him, another empty carriage, driven by one off! 
 acquaintance : he whipped up his horses, resolving toouq 
 the other, and swearing dreadfully that he would be it I 
 Red Lion first, foi a pint— done, cried the other— a wagers 
 Both cut and spurred the poor beasts with the usual furyi 
 their credit had been really at stake, or their liveshad depenl 
 on this foolish contest. Tom's chaise had now got if] 
 that of his rival, and they drove along-side of each other 1 
 great fury and many imprecations. But, in a narrow 
 Tom's chaise being in the middle, with his antagonist! 
 One side, and a cart driving against him on the other, , 
 horses reared up ; the carriages got entangled, Tom roared! 
 a great oath to the other to stop, which he either cpuM 
 or would not do, but returned an horrid imprecation, tMJ 
 would win the wager if he was alive. Tom's horses J 
 fright, and he was thrown to the ground with great : vioM 
 As soon as he could be got from under the wheels, W 
 taken up senseless ; his leg was broke in two places, ■! 
 body much bruised. Some people, whom the noy 
 brought together, put him into the post-chaise, in vvn 1 
 waggoner kindly assisted, but the other driver seem I 
 less and indifferent, and drove off, observing yfitn 
 
coolness, " I am sorry I have lost my pint ; I should have, 
 heat him hollow, had ' it not been for this little accident " 
 Some gentlemen who came out of the inn, after reprimanding 
 fhis savage, inquired who he was, wrote to inform his mas- 
 |er, and got him discharged : resolving that neither they nor 
 Iny of their friends would ever employ him, and he was long 
 Wt of place. 
 
 Tom was taken to one of those excellent hospitals^ with 
 Ivhich London abounds. His agonies were dread tul, his leg 
 Ws set, and a high fever came on*. As soon as he was left 
 alone to reflect on his condition, his first thought was that he 
 should die, and his borrow was inconceivable : — u Alas !'* 
 laid he, " what will become of my poor soul ? I am cut off 
 5 ln the commission of three great sins : — I was drunk, I was 
 in a horrible passion, and I had oaths and blasphemies in my 
 '310 nth." He tried to pray, but he could not, his mind was 
 all distraction, and he thought he was so very wicked t/iat 
 God would not forgive him ; <j because," says he, "I have 
 sinned against light and knowledge, and a sober education, 
 . and good examples, and I deserve nothing but punishment. 
 At length he grew light-headed, and there was little hopes of 
 his life. Whenever he came to his senses for a few minutes, 
 he cried out, " O that my old companions could now see 
 me, surely they would take warning by my sad fate, and re- 
 pent before it is too late." 
 
 By the blessing of God on the skill of the surgeon, aad the 
 care of the nurses, he however grew better in a few .days. 
 And here let me stop to remark, what a mercy it is we live 
 in a christian country, where the poor, when sick, or lame, 
 or wounded, are taken as much care of as any gentry , nay, 
 ; in some respects more, because in hospitals and infirmaries 
 there are more doctors and surgeons to attend, than most pri- 
 vate gentlefolks can afford to have at their own houses, 
 whereas there never was an hospital in the whole heathen 
 world Blessed be God for this among the thousand other 
 .excellent fruits of the Christian Religion. 
 
 It was eight weeks before Tom could be taken out of bed. 
 i his was a happy affliction : for this long sickness and soli-, 
 rude gave him time to reflect on his past life. He beean 
 , seriously to hate those darling sins which had brought him 
 m° the bnnk °f ™'™> He could now pray heartily ; he cor;, 
 
ue*er to di ink 
 Well/ an 1 i is poc e.s ;ccrui \L he t 
 
 6 
 
 tossed and lamented his iniquHes with many tears, anibegan 
 to fiobethlt the medics of God, th.ough the merits ot a 
 ReJeeVr, might vet he extended to him, on his Sincere re., 
 penrancc. He resolved never mwe to re', nr. to he sa'ne evil 
 courses, but he did nor trust in his o - strength, butpnoej 
 that God won' ! give \\m grace t tftfttft as Bellas par. 
 
 -'was humbled at 
 t repentance, and 
 
 iu] ;u\ • t'hOl'ght- 
 
 heao-ach after a 
 r. . u.s, he vowed! 
 
 S is he. ul was I 
 | his resolutions, I 
 
 And how Otthftt h be otherwise ? f * he trfu ed m h 1S o m 
 Strength, he neve, jrayelto God to lengthen .inn, nor eve 
 avoideu the ttsh temptation. £. . 
 
 The case was now ..liferent. Tom began to fano tl 
 his strength was per/set weakness, and that ,ie cou ; d 
 nothing without the divine ass.stance, tor w! u*h ^ 
 hearti v and constantly. He sent home for h.s Bible 
 JWr-hook, which he hid r.ot opened for two yeas, a 
 SB U g'-n him when he left the 
 He spent She chief part of his tune m rea.nng thu. , and t 
 d^rivV,! great comfort, a, well as great knowleoge. i« 
 STof%e Bible fif e 1 his heart whh gratitude to Qodvvta 
 Sno ut him off in the midst of his sins out gtvenn 
 :',ie for rcnentanee ; md the agonies he had lately 
 Shis broken leg increased his thank fulness, that h W 
 scap ed the more £9 
 
 eh for a time they see ntue ut & — ^ 
 It . According to all anpearance ^jaa^ver 
 to do him any good, and yet h,, ene . 
 w; iist his. bread upon the wateis, tounu «= . 
 ^thisBible which had laid gjf^gSffi J 
 made the means of his reformation, oou wi 
 
 own good time. akrhareed from the 1^ 
 
 As^non as he fot well, and was drschaigeci t 
 .T beWn to think, he must retain to ge his or 
 Ktst he Some scruples about going back Jo b. J 
 
7 
 
 1 ,„„._«« H,t,» says he, sensibly enough, "gentlefolks 
 e * M •' *"v frVoellers bust have chaises, and chaises must 
 aust ravel, n " 7 v i !on e S t callinir, and I don't know 
 Y 1 ' CW Z<- mn£ t6 one sort of husm.ss more than 
 * al ?' A '*J ,': ,, hl'can be good in a state of great temp- 
 SP7 v ' ,t, e calling be lawful, and the temptations 
 
 ta! '" n 7 • . j<r, and he-he diligeat'in prayer, may 
 
 a R '. n ' ° 7 ... . lv r, for ought 1 know : and all that 
 
 he better than anot-nei man toi uu b .iL x . . , 
 
 T, / , . fn rl . n W , Mi/ in that state of life in which 
 
 • r , i ,,m,i xAA 'V»4 q Ditv that people don-t 
 -'catechism attne hospita^ and ... a pny u | 1 
 
 look at their catechism sometime, when tney *£#»*0 up , 
 for k Mi as eood- for men and women as it is torcimmen ; 
 ^av^bener. for though' the answer, ^toroed ; Hl 
 iende I lor children to yet the duti* enjoined m itaie 
 
 fcicndcd for men and women to pot in practice. 
 I l orn now felt grieved M ,e was obliged to drive oil 
 .Sundays. But peop'c hd arc in earnest, and have their 
 keatas'in a thing, can find helps in all cases. As soon as he 
 had set down his companv at their stage, and had seen ms 
 l-orses led . says Tom, » A man who takes care of ks horses 
 will Generally think it right to let tlicm t€»t n ho«t or two, 
 • it le:u t. In every town it is a chance hut mere may be a 
 •ihu. ch open during nart or that time, tf the prayers should 
 be over, I'll try hard for the sermon ; and if 1 dare not stay 
 to the sermon, it is a cm me but I may catch tneprayei>m it 
 is woith trying for, however; and as I used to make nothing 
 . of making a push, far the sake of gearing an hour to gamble, 
 I need not o image to take a little pains exiraoi dinarv to serve 
 fjodT Bymln^ watchfulness he soon got to know the hours 
 "of service at all the towm on the road he travelled, and while 
 'thchmtes fed, Tom went to church, and it became a favo- 
 rite .proverb with him, that prayers and provender hinder 
 no Mian's journei/. 
 
 At hist his companions wan od to laugh and make sport 
 -"of tills— out when 'they saw mar no lad on the road was ur> 
 f "so ea;iy ami worked so hard a i 'Lorn: when they saw no 
 ivChaise no neat, no <> kisses so bright, no harness so tight, no 
 " •^ driver so diligent, so clean, or so civil, they found he was no 
 subject tojnake sport at Tom indeed was very careful in 
 looking arecr the iinch pins, in never giving his horses too 
 
 A 4 
 
3 
 
 much water when they were hot; nor, whatever washi$l 
 haste, would he ever gallop them up hill, strike them across? 
 the head, or when tired, cut and slash them in driving on the I 
 stones, as soon as he got into a town, as some foolish fellows'* 
 do. What helped to cure Tom of these bad practices, was'l 
 that remark he met with in the Bible, that a .good man hi 
 merciful fa his beasts. H was much moved on reading the I 
 Prophet Jonah, to observe what compassion^ the great Godj 
 of heaven and earth had for poor beasts; for one of the 
 reasons there given, why the Almighty was unwilling to d t v 
 stroy the city of Ninevah was, because thtre was miu'n 
 cattle in it. After this, Tom never could bear to see .a I 
 wanton stroke inflicted. 
 
 V Fom soon grew rich for one in his station ; for eyery gen. I 
 tleman on the road would be driven by no other lad }fcarej£ : ^ 
 Tom was to be had. Being diligent he got a great deal of| 
 money; being frugal, he spent but little ; and having no- 
 vices/ he wasted none. He soon found out that there was! 
 some meaning i V that text which says, that Godliness hathi 
 the promise of the life that now i$* as well as of that xvhidl 
 is to come ; for the same principles which make a man sober! 
 and hones', have also a natural tendency to make him healthy | 
 and rich ; while adrunkard and a spendthrift can hardly escape | 
 being sick, and a beggar in the end. Vice is the parent of I 
 misery here as well as hereafter. ( , \ 
 
 After a few years Tom begged a holiday, and mr.de a visit! 
 at his native village : his goodcharacter had got thither before! 
 him. Me found his iaiher wa-s dead, but during his longili-| 
 ness Torn had supplied him with money, and by allowing! 
 him a trifle every week, had had thehonest satisfaction of keep- 1 
 ins him from the parish, Farmer Hodges was still living, but! 
 being grown old and infirm, he was desirous to retire from I 
 business. Fie retained a great regard for his old servant, I 
 Tom ; and finding he was 'worth money, and knowing nc 1 
 knew something of country business, he offered to let buna! 
 small farm at ant easy rate, and promised his assistance in the I 
 management for the first year,wkh the loan of a small sumot : 
 money, that lie might set out with a pretty stock. Tom J 
 thanked him with tears in his eyes, went back and took a | 
 handsome leave of his master, who. made him atf resent ohj 
 horse and cart; in acknowledgment gf his long and faiths I 
 
9 
 
 services; a for," says he, " I have saved many horses hm 
 [Tom's care and attention, and \ could well afford to do the 
 same by every servant who did the same by me ; and should 
 be a richer man at the end of every year by the same gene- 
 rosity, provided I could meet with just and faithful servants 
 who deserved the same lewanls." 
 
 Tom was soon settled in his new farm, and in less than a 
 [year had got every thing neat and decent about him. Farmer 
 Hodges' long experience and friendly advice, joined to his 
 own industry and hard labor, soon brought the farm to great 
 -perfection. The regularity, sobriety, peaceableness and piety 
 of his daily life, his constant attendance at church twice every 
 ' Sunday, and his decent and devout behaviour when there 
 soon recommended him to the notice of Dr. Shepherd, who 
 was still living, a pattern of zeal, activity, and benevolence to 
 .all parish priests. The Dr. soon began to hold up Tom, or 
 as we must now more properly term him, Mr. Thomas 
 White, to the imitation of the whole parish, and the frequent 
 and condescending conversation of this worthy clergyman, 
 .contributed no less than Ills preaching to the improvement of 
 his new parishioner. 
 
 Farmer White soon found out that a dairy could not weil 
 be carried on without a mistress, and began to think seriously 
 .'of marrying ■ he prayed to God to direct him in soimportant 
 :a business. He knew that a tawdry, vain, dressy girl, was 
 not likely to make good cheese and butter, and that a worfily 
 and ungodly woman would make a sad wife and mistre^ i 
 .a family. He soon heard of a young woman, of excel k m 
 character, who had been bred up by the vicar's lady, and stih 
 lived in the family as upper maid. She was orudenr, sober 
 industrious, and religious. Her neat, modest and plain ap- 
 pearance at church, (for she was seldom seen any where else 
 out of her master's family) was an example- to. ail person 
 hei station, and never failed to recommend her tofeorf? 
 She £5 ofknowingthegoo^::; 
 
 commend tr to 'f r m er W^S * 
 f itful and beauty is \l ?JjS 
 
 ^tfiomth. nad.on whuh it hung, fcafa to go and wa 
 
10 
 
 on Dr. Shepherd, to break his mini as[c H« consent ; for 
 he thouj/ht it would be i very unhandsome -emrn for all the 
 favors he was receiving firo'mhis minister, to decoy away his 
 faithful servant from her place withom his consent.' * 
 
 The vvoithv omdeman, though sorry to lose so valuable 
 a member of his 111 le fam%, didVt scruple a monv.nr about 
 pauing with her, when he found it would be >o grfcatly co her 
 ad van tunc. Tom was agreeably smpTelto hem* sue hid 
 saved fifty pounds by her fruga'ity. The Doctor mamd 
 them enmeT farmer Hodges being present. 
 
 In the as " ernoon Dr. Shepherd ednde-cenoed to call on 
 farmer and Mrs. White, to give a few words of advice on the 
 new duties thev had entered into ; a common custom *with 
 him on those occasions. He often took an opportunity to 
 drop, in the m„si kind and tender way^ a hi* on the great 
 indecency of making marriages, christening* and abo^e all 
 funerals, days of not and excess, as is toootienthe casein 
 country villages. The expectation that tfe vicar nugnt pos- 
 sihly drop in, in his walks, on these festivities, somecimt re- 
 - strained excessive drinking, and improper conversation even 
 among those faimeis who were not restrained by higher 
 motives, as farmer and Mrs. White we-e. 
 
 What the Dr. said was always in sucn a c! -mil good- 
 humored way, that it was sure to increase the pic sure or mt 
 day instead of damping it. « Well, farmer h said lie, « an 
 vou, my faithful Sarah, any other friend ought recommend 
 peace and agreement to you on your marriage ; hut I on.tnc 
 contrary recommend cares and strifes,- (ste DodcP £ savings.) 
 The companv stared-but Sarah, who knew that bet <j 
 master was a facetious gentleman, and always had some good 
 meaning behind, looked serious. *< Cares affd stn.es^ii. 
 said the farmer, - what do you mean r ^ niean, 
 
 be, « for the hrst, that your cares sh dl he who shall plea- 
 God most, and your strifes, who shall serve him best an 
 your duty most faithfully. Thus, all you cares and striti 
 fcftg employed to the highest purposes, all petty cat ts an 
 world! v strifes shall be at an end. 
 
 « Always remember, both of you, that you havea ben 
 friend than each other.--The company stared again, a 
 thought no woman could have so good a friend as her nusP 
 U As %ou have chosen each other from the best muMc, 
 
wil- 
 11 
 
 | o^mied the 'Doctor, " you have every reasonable ground 
 £7i«»*o for happiness ; but as this world is. a spiU in which 
 ^VmW^ a , u l .vii .-fortunes wilt spring up ; troubles from which 
 * - ^riivv^ save one artofrher ; then remember, 'tis the best 
 ^jsVom to go to that friend who is always near, always vi 
 Iup, and alwavs a&le to help yorn and that friend is God.' 
 
 " -Vc;:,. '>> S :dd fanner White. 44 I humbly thank you for 
 fcour kind instructions, of which T sliafi now stand more in 
 need than ever, as I shall have more duties to fulfil. I hope 
 the remembruic,; oh mv past offences ^iil keep me humble, 
 and' the sense of mv remaining sin will keep me watchful. I 
 set out in the word, Sir, with what is called a good natural 
 disposition, but I soon found to my cost that without God's 
 grace, that will carry a man but little way. A good temper is 
 a pood thin*, hut nothing but the fear of God can enable one 
 to bear up against temptation, evil company, and evil passions. 
 The misfortune of breaking my leg, as I then thought it, has 
 proved the greatest blessing of my life. It shewed me my 
 own weakness, Sir, the value of the Bible, and the goodness of 
 God. How many of my brother drivers have I seen since 
 that time cut off in the prime of life by drinking, oi by some 
 'sudden accident, .while I have not only been spared, but 
 blessed and prospered. O Sir ! it would he the joy of my 
 heart, if some of my old comrades, good-natured, civil fel- 
 lows, (whom I can't help loving) could see, as 1 have done, 
 the danger of evil courses before it is too late. Though they 
 may not hearken to you, Sir, or any other Mimsfer, they 
 -may believe me> because I have been one of them: and I can 
 speak from experience, of the great difference there is, even 
 as to worldly comha t, between a life of sob', let y and a life of 
 sin. I could tell them. Sir, not as a thing chat I have read in a 
 book, but as a truth I feel in my own heart, that to tear God 
 and keep his commandments, will not only 4 bring a man 
 peace at last/ hut will make him happy no ,'. And I will 
 venture to say; Sir,, that all the stocks, pillories,' prisons, and 
 gibbets in the land, though so very needful to keep>brd men 
 in order, yet will never i estrain a good man fi jm committing 
 evil, half so much as that single text, "how so all I do this 
 great wickedness and sin against God ?" Dr. S; .epherd con- 
 descended to approve of what the farmer had saidj kindly 
 I shook him by the hand, and took leave, - * 
 
12 
 
 Thomas White had always been fond of singing, but he 
 had tor many years despised that vile trash which is too often 
 sung; in a stable-yard. One Sunday evening, he heard h„ 
 mistress at the Bear read some verses out of a fine book callei 
 the Spectator. He was so struck with the picture it contains 
 of the great mercies of God, of which he had himself par- 
 rakm so largely, that be took the liberty to ask her tor these 
 verses, and she being a very good-natured woman, made her 
 daughter write out for the postillion the following 
 
 HYMN on DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, 
 My rising soul surveys, 
 Transported with the view I'm lost 
 In wonder, love, and praise, 
 
 O how shall words with equal warmth 
 
 The gratitude declare 
 That glows within thy ravish'd heart ? 
 
 But thou cans' t read it there. 
 
 Thy Providence my life sustained, 
 
 And all my wants redrest, 
 When in the silent womb I lay, 
 
 And hung upon the breast. 
 
 To all my weak complaints and cries, 
 
 Thy mercy lent an ear, 
 Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt 
 
 To form themselves in prayer. 
 
 Unnumber'd comforts tojrny soul 
 
 Thy tender care besto'wM, 
 Btffore my infant heart conceived 
 
 From whom those comforts fiow'd. 
 
 When in the slipp'ry path of Youth, 
 
 With heedless steps I ran, 
 Thine arms, unseen, convey'd rue safe, 
 
 And led me up to Man. 
 
^ IS •• 
 
 Thro' hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, 
 
 It gently clear' d my way, 
 And thro' the pleasing snares of vice, 
 
 More to be fear'd than they.. 
 
 When worn with sickness, oft hastTHoU 
 With health renew'd my face ; 
 
 And when in sins and sorrow sunk, 
 Reviv 7 d my soul with grace. 
 
 Thy bounteous hands with worldly bliss, 
 
 Has made my cup run o'er ; 
 And in a kind and faithful friend 
 
 Has doubled all my store. 
 
 Ten thousand thousand precious gifts 
 
 My daily thanks employ, 
 Nor is the least a thankful heart 
 
 That tastes those gifts with joy. 
 
 Thro' ev'ry period of my life 
 
 Thy goodness I'll pursue, 
 And after death, in distant worlds, 
 
 The glorious theme renew. 
 
 When nature fails, and day and night, 
 
 Divide thy works no more, 
 My ever grateful heart, O Lord ! 
 
 Thy mercy shall adore. 
 
 Thro' all eternity to Thee, 
 
 A joyful song I'll raise, 
 For O ETERNITY'S too short*, 
 
 To utter all Thy Praise. 
 
PART II. 
 
 THE WAY TO PLENTY. 
 
 fHT^OM WHITE, as we have shewn in the tat part of this 
 JL hh$&tf from an idle post boy was become a respectable 
 farmer. God had blessed his industry and lie had prospered 
 in the world, He \v:>s sober and temperate, and, as was the 
 natural consequence, he was active and heaithv. He was 
 industrious an ! frugal, and he became prosperous in his cir- 
 cumstances. Tins is in the ordinary course of Providence, 
 But it is aot a certain and necessary lule. God makcth his 
 sun to shine on the just and ih' j unjust. A man who uses 
 every honest means < »f thrift and industrv, will, in most cases, 
 find sue- ess inert I his labors. But still the race is not always 
 to the swifts ffir the bat* It to' the sirmg* God is sometimes 
 pleased, for wise en 'is: ' to dfiap^fsdnt all the wo-ddly hopes of 
 the most umi-.bt mam His coin may be smitten by a blight, 
 jj-iis bants mkj e consumed -by fire. His cattle may be car- 
 ried off bv distemper. And to these, and other misfortunes, 
 
 he is a> h.ib 
 co : -m rn i c 
 the industri 
 
 a-; the spendthrift or the knave. Success is the 
 t'A ,>f industrv, b&t W it were constant reward, 
 rs W&ifd be rem; ted to -"look no further than the 
 present state. They would lose one strong ground of then' 
 faith, it would set aside die scrip; ure scheme. This world 
 Would be lo< ked on as a state of reward, imtead of a state of 
 trial , and vi e should forget to look to a day of final retribution. 
 
 Farmer Whit- never took it into his head, that because he 
 paid his debts, worked carlv and late, andlate the bread of 
 caielulness, Vie was therefore to conje into no misfortmt 
 like other fo j k, but was to be free from the common trials, 
 and troubles of life. He knew that prosperity was far from 
 being a sure mark of God'o favor, and had read, in good books, 
 and especially in trie Bible, of the great pwertv.and afflictions 
 of the best of men. Ti-ourh he was no great scholar, he had 
 sense enough to observe, that a time of public prosperity was 
 
15 
 
 n0 < mwdvs a time o r public virtpe ; and he thought that what 
 sV-e of a whole nation might be on a of one m rt So 
 
 enfcy 
 
 w 
 
 the more he prospered t 
 
 ie o rayed thrt 
 
 taking a walk with im a 
 sav that he learnt as mu> ' 
 
 rnie-ht not corrupt his heart, kni when lie raw ao.ely ngns. 
 of public diatress doming on, he. was not ha'f so moon 
 frightened as some others were, because ne thought it might 
 do IKS good in the long i nn ; and he was in hopes that a little 
 pove,tv mpt bring on a little penitence I he grea; g.ace 
 he laborefefter was that ofacheerlul sirbnlis r n. h used 
 to ay that if the Lord's Braver had or.ly contained those f ut 
 nttie'fwords thy win- be done, it would be worth more 
 than the nicest hook in the world without them. 
 
 for Sl\enher4- the wm-.m a - . \ .vnh whom the farmer s 
 wife had ionnerlv lived as hmisekec.-cr* was very fond of 
 
 >ut his grounds. » and he used to 
 m the farmer as the fatmer did 
 from him. |f the Doctor happened to observe, ?« i am afraid 
 th-s- long rains will spoil this fine piece of oats," the farmer 
 wmdd feswef, " but then, Sir, think how good it is tor the 
 n-'-ass." It the Doctor feared the wheat w u ! d he but m- 
 iiffe/etit, the farmer w:is sure the rye would turn out welL 
 When 'grass failed, he did not doubt but turnips wou d be 
 plnuy.° Even for floods and inundation, he would find out 
 some way to justify Providence. « 'Tis better/' said he, 
 " to have our' lands a little overflowed, than the springs, 
 should be dried up, and our cattle faint for lack of wafer/" 
 When the drought-came, he thanked God that the season 
 would be healthy ; and high winds which frightened others, 
 he said served to clear the air. Whoever, or what, ver was 
 wrong, he was always si re that Providence was in.the 
 right. And he used to sav that a m in with ever so -small an 
 income if he h id but frugality and temperance, and cast oft 
 all vain desire: vas richer than a lord, who was tormented by 
 vanity and covet. usnes>. When he saw others in the wiong, 
 he did not hovieverabuse them for it, but took care to avoid 
 the same" fault. He had sense and spirit enough to break! 
 through many old bur very bad 'u<uoms of his neighbors. 
 " If a tii in p- 
 
 M ...... & .„ vv ,,„.^ in it>.e ! :t," sa.id ,:c one day ro faimerf 
 
 Hodges, 14 a whole parish doing it can't make it right. And 
 as to it's being an old custom, why if it be a good one 1 like! 
 it the better for being old, because it has had the stamp of ages. 
 
16 
 
 and -tlie sanction of experience on it's worth. But if it be 
 old as well as bad, thai is another reason for my trying to 
 an end to it, that we may nor mislead our children as our 
 fathers have misled us." 
 
 - The ROOF-RAISING. 
 
 Some years after he was settled, he built a large new bam. 
 All the workmen were looking forward to the usual holiday 
 of roof-raising. On this occasion it was a custom to give a 
 dinner to the workmen, with so much liquor after it that they 
 got so drunk, that they hot only lost the remaining half day's 
 work, but they were not always able to work the next day, 
 Mrs. White provided a plentiful' dinner for roof- raising, and 
 gave each man his mug of beer. After a hearty meal they 
 began to gro w clamcrous for more drink. The farmer said, 
 " My lads, I don't grudge you a few gallons of ale merely 
 for the sake of saving mv liquor, though that is some consi- 
 deration ; but I never will, knowingly help any man to m ike 
 a beast of himself. I am resolved to break through a bid 
 custom. Yoh are now well refreshed. If you will go 
 cheerfully to vour work, you will have a half day's pay to 
 lake on Saturday night more than you would if this afternoon 
 were wasted in drunkenness- For this your families will be s 
 the better: whereas, were I to give you more liquor when 
 you have already had enough, I should help to rob tfiem of 
 their biead. But I wish to shew you, that. I have your good 
 at heart fullas much as my own profit. If you will pow go 
 to work, I will give you all another mug at night when you 
 leave off. Thns^your time will be saved, your families help- 
 ed, and my ale will not go to make reasonable Creatures 
 worse than brute beasts." <- • 
 
 Here he stopped. «' You are in the right on't, mastcrV 
 said Tom rhe thatcher. " You are a hearty man, farmer,'' 
 said John Plane the carpenter. " Come along, boys," said 
 Tim. th ick die mason ; so they all went merrily to wovk, 
 
 J Jill. JJi^ iV ' i j — - t 1 1 
 
 fortified with a good dinner. There was only one drunken 
 surley fellow who refused, that was Dick Guzzle the smith. 
 Dick never works above two or three days in the week, 2nd 
 
 spends the other at the Red Lion. He swore that . it tli 
 fanner would not let him have as much liquor as he liked a 
 roof-raisine, he would not strike another stroke, but wou^ 
 
17 
 
 - leave the job unfinished, and he might get hands where he 
 -could. Fanner White took him at his word, and paid him 
 toff directly, glad enough to get rid of" such a sot, whom he 
 had only employed from pity to a large and almost starvirie 
 ^family. YV hen the men came for their mug in the evening 
 the farmer brought out the remains of the cold gamnmn- 
 they made a hearty supper, and thanked him for having broke 
 through a foolish custom, which was afterwards much left 
 pli m thai parish, though Dick would not come into it W 
 |ost most of fiis work. ' 
 Farmer White's labourers were often complaining that 
 ...things were so dear that they could not buy a bit of meat ' 
 He .mew ,t was partly true, but not cntirelv, for it was before 
 tnesc very hard times. One mornin K he stent out to see 
 how an outhouse which was thatching went on. He was 
 surpnsed to fimlthcworkata stand. ^He walked over to 
 the matcher's hoase. <f. Tom," said he, - I desire that piece 
 of work may be finished directly. If a shower comes my 
 gpm wdl be spoiled."-" Indeed, master, I shan't " 
 fc-d ay nor to morrow neither," said Tom. - You fo£2 
 that tis taster Monday, and to-morrow is Faster Tocsdav - 
 and so on Wednesday I shall t hatch away, master b'^ 
 ha, 1 , a poor man who works all the rear may not eniov 
 he e few holidays.--- Tom," sa id lhe fermL « wS 
 
 73 Lc °"? ht that the lime would come when 
 
 £ I sh iTav How much dost riS 
 
 now Miall pay thee for th,s p.ecc of thatch ?>'_« Why von 
 know, master, you have let it to me by the J J I 
 
 between this and tn • t ■> . S leat - J. think 
 
 1 could d a I tL \ fn o ", .V. n, gnf,,as the weather is so fine 
 
 fiut thatc h g t no/ em" "1> ' ^ } h ? w ^ 
 profitable."-" Vcrv \v » • ' aild , ot ; lcI " is not so 
 
 think yon mnu 7 y i • ', lom > »» d how much do you 
 -asteS t™ le?* 1'" „ ft ff ^ 
 not expect to ~et fFW ' merry, I do 
 
 ean-yo'u do pounds sbilHn three sh 1 id g8 /'_J T 
 a little scoie , Iter h • i™' P C ? Ce ? "~" I can make 
 chalk, which as nmi'Tr ^ ; t»it«f 
 four shilli, " "o,. fiS"* ~" Wc]| - Tom, add 
 fefed ro "*\'& ? ou , would h: 've earned to the three you 
 • -oat docs that make ?>>_« Let mg see I 
 
18 
 
 three and fomZ make |seven. Sevevi shillings, master."-*, 
 " Tom, you often tell me the times are so bad that you can 
 never buy a bit of meat. Now here is the cost of two joints 
 at- once ; to say nothing of the sin of wasting time and get. 
 ting drunk. " — " I never once thought of that," said Tom, 
 " Now, Tom," said the farmer, "If I were you, I would 
 step over to 1 butcher Jobbin T s, buy a shoulder of mutton, 
 which being left for Saturday's market you will get a little 
 cheaper. This I would make my wife bake in a deep dish 
 full of potatoes. I weuld then go to work, and when the ! 
 dinner was ready I would go and enjoy it with my wife and 
 children ; vou need not give the mutton to the brats ; the 
 potatoes will have all the gravy, and be very savory for them." ! 
 — "Aye, but I've got no beer, master, the times are so ban! 
 that a poor man can't afford to brew a drop of drink now, 
 as we used to do." — " Times are bad, and malt is very dear, 
 Tom, and yet both don't prevent your throwing away seven 
 shillings in your keeping holiday. Now send for a quart of 
 ale, as it is to be a feast ; and you will even then be fourshil- ' 
 lings richer then if you had gone to the public house, il 
 would put by these four shillings, till I could add a couple, 
 to them : with this I would get a bushel of malt, and my, 
 wife should brew it, and you may take a 'pint at home of al 
 night, which will do you more good than a gallon at the I 
 Red Lion." — " I have a great mrnd to take your advice, . 
 master, but I shall be made such fun of at the Lion ; they! 
 will so laugh at me if I don't go." — 44 Let those laugh thai 
 win, Tom." — 44 But master, I have got a friend to meet n;e| 
 there." — 44 Then ask your friend to come and eat a bit of I 
 cold mutton at night, and here is sixpence for anothei p'' 
 if you will promise to brew a small cask of your own."-| 
 *t Thank you, master, and so I will ; and I won'r go to tb 
 Lion. Come, bov, bring the helm, and fetch the ladder. 
 And so Tova was upon the roof in a twinkling. 
 
 The SHEEP-SHEARING. I 
 
 Dr. Shepherd happened to say to farmer White one day J 
 that mere was nothing he disliked more than the manner ml 
 which sheap- shearing and harvest home was kept by f> 01111 
 in the parish. 44 What," said the good doctor, " just wltfl 
 wc ate blest wuh the natural riches oui land, the fleece- 
 
10 
 
 Lmr flocks ; when our barns are crouded with plenty, and 
 we have reaped the fruits of the earth in due season ; is that 
 ' very time to he set apart for rihaldry, and riot and drunken* 
 \ ness ? Do we thank God for his mercies by making our* 
 ; selves unworthy and unfit to enjoy them?'' — " I thank you 
 f for the hint, Sir," said the farmer. " I am resolved to rejoice 
 though, and others shall rejoice with me ; And we will have 
 a merrymight on't." So Mrs. White dressed a very plentiful 
 .supper of meat and pudding ; and spread out two tables. 
 The farmer sat at the head of one, consisting of some of his 
 neighbours and all his work-people. At the other sat his 
 . wife, with two long benches on each side of her. At these 
 sat all the old and infirm poor, especially those who lived in 
 * the workhouse, and had no day of festivity to look forward 
 I to in the whole vear hut this. On the grass in the little 
 court, sat the children of his laborers, and of the other poor, 
 whose employment it had been to gather flowers, and dies? 
 and adoin the horns of the ram ; for the farmer did not wish 
 to put an end to any old custom if it was innocent. His own 
 children stood by the table, and he gave them plenty of pud- 
 ding, which they carried to the children of the poor, with a 
 little draught of cider to every one. This feast, though or- 
 ' derly and decent, was yet hearty and cheerful. Dr. Shepherd 
 dropped in with a good deal of company he had at his house, 
 and they were much pleased. When the doctor saw how 
 the aged and the infirm poor were enjoying themselves he 
 was irmch moved ; lie shook the farmer by the hand, and 
 said, " Bat thou, when thou makest a feast, call the blind, 
 the lame, and the halt ; they cannot recompense thee, but 
 Ithou shaft be competed at the resurrection of the just." Sir, 
 said the farmer, "'tis no great matter of expence, I kill a 
 sheep of my own ; potatoes are as plenty as black-berries 
 with people who have a little fore-thought. I save much 
 more cider in the course of a year by never allowing any 
 carousing in my kitchen, or drunkenness in my fields, than 
 would supply many such feasts as these, so that I shall be never 
 *he poorer at Christmas, It is cheaper to make people happy 
 than to make them drunk." , The Doctor and the ladies 
 condescended to walk from one table to the other, and heard 
 many merry stories, but not one profane word, or one indo- 
 cent song ; so that he was not forced to the painful necessity 
 
 m 
 
go 
 
 either of reproving them, 01 leaving- then in pgqfc Wh« 
 a was over they sung the sixtv-nfih psalm, and the ladies 
 all joined m it, and when they got home to the vicarage td 
 tea, they declared they liked it better than any concert." 
 
 The HARD WINTER. 
 In the famous cold winter of the year 1795, it was cdif |. n . 
 to see how patiently farmer White bore that long and severe 
 frost. Many of his sheep were {voz^n to death, but tic 
 thanked God that he had still many left. He continued t 
 find in-door work that his men might not be out of employ 
 Mrs. White was so considerate that just at that time she 
 lessened the number of her hogs, that she might have more 
 whey and skim milk to assist poor families. Nay, I have 
 known her live on boiled meat for a long time together, in a 
 sickly season, because the pot-liquor made such a supply of 
 broth for the sick poor. As the spring came on, and things 
 grew worse, she never had a cake, apye, or a pudding in her 
 house; though she used to have plenty of these good 'things: 
 and will again I hope when the present scarcity is over ; 
 though she says, she will never use such white flour agaia 
 even if it should comedown to live shilling a bushel. 
 
 All the parish now began to murmur. Farmer Jones was 
 sure the fr@st had killed the wheat. Farmer Wilson said the 
 rye would never come up. Brown, the maltster, insisted the 
 Parley was dead at the root. Butcher Jobbins said beef 
 would be a shilling a pound. All declared there would not 
 be a hop to brew with. The oichards were all blighted, 
 hay-there would be none to be had for love nor money. " ['11 
 tell you what," said farmer White, " the season is dreadful, 
 The crops are unpromising just now ; hut 'tis too eaily D 
 Judge. Don't let us make things worse than they are. Wij 
 ought to comfort the poor, aud you are driving them to des- 
 pair. Don't you know how much God was displca.seii 
 with the murmurs of his chosen people? And yet, when 
 they were tired of manna he sent them quails • but all die! rot 
 do. Nothing satisfies grumblers. We have a promise on our 
 side, that there shall be seed time and harvest to the end. Lei 
 us then hope for a good day, but provide against an evil opfc 
 Let us rather prevent the evil before it comes upon us, than 
 
 sink under it when it comes. Grumbling can' dielp us. Activity 
 
, ian. Let set about planting potatoes in ever nook and 
 -feorner, in case the corn should tail, which however \ don't 
 i>elieve. Let us mend o-ur management before we are driven, 
 to it by actual want. And if we allow our hone«t labourers 
 
 . to plant a few potatoes for their families in the head lands of 
 our ploughed fields, or other waste bits of ground, it will do 
 us no harm, and be a great help to them." The farmer had 
 many temptations to send his corn at an extravagant price to 
 a certain sea port town ; but as he knew that it was intended 
 to export it against Jaw, he would not he tempted to en- 
 courage unlawful gain ; so he thrashed out a small mow at 
 
 ' a time, and sold it to the neighbouring- poor far below the 
 market price. He served his own workmen hist. This 
 was the same to them as if he had raised their wages, and 
 
 _4ven better, as it was a benefit of which their familes were 
 sure to partake. If the poor in the next parish were more 
 distressed than big own, he sold to them at the same rate. 
 i 6 For," said he " there is no distinction of parishes in 
 •heaven, and though charity begins at home, it ought not to 
 end there." He has been used in good times now and then 
 to catch a hare or a partridge as he was qualified. But he 
 .now resolved to give up that pleasure. So he parted from a 
 couple of spaniels he had : for he said he could not hear that 
 jus dogs should be eating the meat or the milk which so man v 
 men, and women, and children wanted. 
 
 The WHITE LOAF. 
 One day, it was about the middle of fnly, when thirds 
 seemed to be at the dearest, and the rule.s of the land had 
 agreed to set an example of eating nothing but coarse bread, 
 Sol Tjt 7 Y ,ea< K *f f ° re ™™»> in the church, the! 
 Eta tnd had ? WHlC 1 , thC ^tmtes erf the countv sent 
 wa V 1 k S ° f lgne(1 themse lves. Mrs. Whit* of course 
 wasat c lurch, and commended it mightily. Kext morning 
 
 settle hirthei plans for the relief of theparish. He was much 
 ZSl^TJ T hitC ' S little ^ *4 with a \" rv 
 no** fi, f i r § as he never thought it rieht to ex. 
 v.wving togi lv Mis. White a severe lecture for the first 
 
time m hex life. He soon changed his wind, for on going 
 into the kitchen the first person he saw was Tom the thatchtj 
 who had had a sad fall from a ladder , his arm, winch was 
 slipped out of his sleeve, was swelled in a frightful manner, 
 Mrs. White was standing . at the dresses making tilt 
 little white loaf into a poultice, which she laid upon tlve 
 swelling in a large clean old cloth. 
 
 il I ask your pardon, my good Sarah," said the Doctor, 
 <; I ought not, however appearances were against you, to 
 have suspected that so humble and prudent a woman as you 
 are, would be led either to indulge any daintiness of your 
 own, or to fly in the face of your betters, by eating white 
 bread while they are eating brown. Whenever I cornehere, 
 I see it is not needful to be rich in order to be charitable. A 
 bountiful rich man would have sent Tom to a surgeon, who 
 would have done no more for him than you have done; for 
 in those inflammations the most skiHul surgeon could only 
 apply a poultice. Your kindness in dressing the wound 
 yourself, will, I doubt not, perform the cure at the expencc 
 of that three-penny loaf and a little hog's-lard. And I will 
 •take care that Tom shall have a good supply of rice fromtlit 
 subscription." — M And he shan't want for skim milk," sail 
 Mrs. White, " and was he the best lord in the land, m m 
 state lie is in, a dish of good rice milk would be better for 
 him than the richest,.meat." 
 
 The PARISH MEETING. 
 
 On the tenth of August the vestry held another *m\M 
 to consult the best method of further assisting the poor. W 
 abundant crops now cheered every heart. Farmer White W 
 a mind to be a little jocular with his desponding neighbor 
 *< Well, neighbour Jones," said he, "all the wheat waskife 
 I suppose. The barley all dead at the root." Farmer W 
 looked sheepish, and said, " to be sure the crops had tto» 
 out better than he thought."— " Then," said Dr. Shepherd 
 f* let us learn to trust in Providence another time." 1 
 Among other things they agreed to subscribe for a laifi 
 quantity of rice, which was to be sold out to the $0of*j 
 very low price, and Mr. White was so kind as to umlertt 1 
 the trouble of selling it, After their day's work was ofi 
 all, who wished to buy at these reduced rates were ortle^l 
 
jkune to the farm on Tuesday evening. Dr. Shepheid 
 Jropped inat.thcs.arne time, and when Mrs. White hail done 
 Veiling her rice, the Doctor-spoke as follows • h My honest 
 friends, it has pleased God to visit this land with a scarcity, 
 fo which we have heen little accustomed. There are some 
 idle evil minded people who are on the watch for public dis- 
 tresses, not that they may humhle themselves under the 
 vfiiohty hand of God (which is the true use to he made of all 
 troubles) hut that they ; may benefit themselves by distiobinr 
 #ie public peace. These people, by riot and drunken: jess, 
 doubled the evil which they pretend to cure. Riot will com- 
 pleat our misfortunes, while peace, industry and good ma- 
 nagement, will go near to cure them. Bread to be sure jj 
 uncommonly dear. Among the vsiious waysol' making it 
 cheaper, one is to reduce the -quality of it, another, to lessen 
 the quantity we consume. I f we cannot get enough of coarse 
 wheaten bread, let us make it of another grain. Or let U3 
 ihix one half of potatoes and one half of wheat. This last fa 
 what I eat in my own family. It is pleasant and wholesome. 
 Our blessed Savior ate barley bread, you know as we were 
 told in the last month's Sunday Reading of the Cheap Repo- 
 sitory, which I hope you have alfheard, as I desired the mas- 
 tf r of the Sunday School to read it just after evening service, 
 when I know many of die parents are a; t to call in 
 at the school, this is a good custom, and one of rho<e 
 little books shall be often read at that time. My good women, 
 I truly feel for you at this time of scarcity ; and I am eoin^ 
 to shew my good will, as much by my advice as my subscrip- 
 tion. It is my duty as your friend", and minister,- to rdl 
 you, that one half of your present hardshios is bwftg to r> l& 
 management. I often meet your children without feces 
 and stockings, with great luneoeons of the very #Mtesj breatr 
 it u were coarse put into a dish of good onion or leak por- 
 ridge, would make them an excellent breakfast. Man? too 
 Ot the very poorest of you cat V our bread hot from the o'veo • 
 *« makes the dnT,enee of one loaf in five; I 
 
 £ i Xf 01 t0 d °' Come ' White, fou must 
 
 I melf h f ■ A f m " 0t ™7 lowing in there matter, 
 ftysclt , but I know that the nch would bctwice as charitable 
 gthe poor made a better use of their bounty. M. y ^ 
 
24 
 
 do give these poor women a little advice how to make thei, 
 pittance go farther than it now does. When yon lived with- 
 me you were famous for making; us nice cheap dishes, and! 
 dare soy yon aie not less notable now you manage for you;, 
 self." — "Indeed, neighbours, (said Mrs. White) what the 
 good Doctor said is very true. A halfpenny-worth of oat . 
 meal or groats, with a leek or onion, out of your own garden, 
 which costs nothing, a bit of salt, and a little coarse bread' 
 will breakfast your whole family. It is a great mistake a! 
 any time to think a bit of meat is so ruinous, and a grc it load 
 of bread so cheap. A poor man gets seven or etgfit shillings 
 a week; if he is careful he bring.-; it home. I dare not say 
 how much of this goes for tea in the aftereoon, now sugar 
 and butter are so dear, because I should have you aU upon me, 
 but 1 will say that too much of this little goes even for bread 
 from a notion that it is the hardest fare. This at all times, 
 but particularly just now, is bad management. Dry'peasto 
 be sure have been very dear lately ; but now they are blent? 
 enough. I am certain then, that if a shilling or two of the 
 seven ov eight was laid out lor a bit of coarse beef, a sheep'? 
 head, or any such thing, it would be well bestowed, I would 
 throw a couple of pound of this into the pot, with two or 
 three handfuls of grey peas, an onion and a little pepper. Then 
 I would throw in cabbage, or turnip, and carrot, or any gar- 
 den-stuff that was most plenty j let itstew two or three hours, 
 and it will make a dish fit for his Majesty. The working 
 man should have the meat ; the children don't want it, the 
 soup will be thick and substantial, and requires no bread."' 
 
 RICE MILK. 
 
 " You who can get skim milk, as all our workmen can, 
 have a great advantage. A quart of this, and a quarter < 
 pound of the rice you have just bought) a little bit of all-spice, 
 and brown sugar, will make a dainty and a cheap dish."-* 
 *< Bless your heart !" muttered Amy Grumble, who looM 
 as dirty as a cinder-wench, with her face and fingers ail 
 daubed with snuff; u rice milk indeed ! it is verv nice to be 
 S"re for those who can dress it, but we have not a bit of coal; 
 rice is of no use to us without firing.' 7 — "And yet," said tp 
 Doctor, u I see your tea-kettle boiling twice every day m 
 pass by the poo*- house, and fresh butter, at eleven -$en ff 
 
85 
 
 impound ©n your shelf.' 5 — " O dear, Sir," cried Amy, H a 
 few sticks serve to boil the tea-kettle." — u And a few more,'* 
 Said the Doctor, " will boil the rice milk, and will give twice 
 the nourishment at a quarter of the expence." 
 
 RICE PUDDING. 
 
 $ " Pray, Sarah," said the Doctor, u how did you use to 
 make that pudding my children were so fond of ? And I re- 
 member when it was cold, we used to have it in the parlor 
 for supper." — " Nothing more easy," said Mrs. White, " I 
 put halt a pound of rice, two quarts of skim milk, and two 
 dunces of brown sugar." — iC Well," said the Doctor, "and 
 how many will this dine ?" — " Seven 01 eight, Sir". — "Very 
 Well, and what will it cost." — " Why, Sir, it did not cost 
 -you so much because we baked it at home, and I used our 
 own milk ; it will not cost above seven-pence to those who 
 pay for both. Here too bread is saved." — " Pray, Sarah, let 
 me put in a word," said farmer White. " I advise my men 
 to raise each a large bed of parsnips. They are very nourish- 
 ing and very profitable. Sixpennyworth ©f seed, well sowed 
 and trod in, will produce more meals than four sacks of po- 
 tatoes: and what is material to you who have so little ground 
 itwill not require more than an eighth part ofthe ground which 
 the four sacks will take. Parsnips are very good the second 
 day warmed in the frying-pan, and a little rasher of pork or 
 bacon will give them a nice flavour." Dr. Shepherd now said; 
 " as a proof of the nourishing quality of parsnips, I was 
 reading in a history book this very day, that the American 
 Indians make a great part of their bread of parsnips, though 
 Indian corn is so famous ; it will make a little variety too?" 
 T f ? rem ^ber," said Mrs. White, « a cheap dish, so nice 
 tnat it makes my mouth water. I peel some raw potatoes, 
 shoe : them thin, put the slices into a deep frying-pan, or por, 
 With a little water, an onion, and a bit of pepper. Then 1 
 
 Stnnrt 116 ° r i tW °.° f a bleast of mutton > or a little stli P of 
 steam 1 w PUt mt , k ' Cover k down cl ™e, keep in the 
 
 Jfetitc , Mis. White by your dainty receipts," said the Do£ 
 * am resolved to have this dish at mv own table."-*. 
 
 C 
 
mm 
 
 26 
 
 " 1 could tell you of another very good dish, and still cheaper 
 answered she. — "Come, let us have it," cried the Docto 
 * 6 I shall write all down as soon as I get home, and I w | 
 favour any hody with a copy of these receipts who will callaj 
 my house." — "And I will do more, Sir," said Mrs. White i 
 c< for 1 will put any of these women in the way how to dress 
 it the first time, if they are at a loss. But this is my dish, 
 Take two or three pickled herrings, put them in stone jar 
 fill it up with potatoes, and a little water, and let it bakein 
 the oven till it is done. I would give one hint more, added 
 she: I have taken to use nothing but potatoe starch; and 
 though I say it that should not say it, nobody's linen in 
 a common way looks better than ours. 
 
 Tfre Doctor now said, " I am sorry for one hardship whid 
 many poor people labour under, I mean the difficulty of! 
 getting a little milk. I wish all farmers* wives were as con-| 
 siderate as you are, Mrs. White. A little milk is a great 
 comfort to the poor, especially when their children are skid 
 And I have known it to answer to the seller as well as to tk' 
 buyer, to keep a cow or two on purpose to sell it out by the 
 quart." — " Sir," said Farmer White, " I beg leave to sap 
 word to the men, if you please, forall your advice goes to the! 
 women : If you will drink less gin you may get more meaif 
 If you abtain from the alehouse you may many of you get! 
 little one-way beer at home." — " Aye, that we can, farmer, j 
 said poor Tom the thatcher,who was now got well. 44 Easte: 
 Monday for that ; I say no more. A word to the wise, J 
 The farmer smiled and went on. " The number of public- 
 houses in many parishes brings on more hunger and rags thanp 
 all the taxes in it, heavy as they are. All the other evilspu| 
 together hardly make up the sum of that one. We are no«| 
 raising a fresh subscription for you. This will be our ruled;, 
 giving. We will not give to sots, gamblers, and sablftl- 
 breakers. Those who do not set their young children to wort 
 on week days, and send them to school on Sunday, desert 
 little favour. No man should keep a dog till he has more M 
 than his family wants. If he feeds them at home they H 
 his children ; if he starves them they rob his neighbours. yj! 
 have heard in a neighboring city that some people earn | 
 back the subscription loaves because they were too coarse 
 
■ c 27 
 
 but we hope better things of you." Here Betty Plane begged 
 with all humility, to put in a word. 44 Certainly," said the 
 Doctor, 44 we will listen to all modest complaints, and try to 
 redress them." — " You weie pleased to say, Sir," said she, 
 ft we might find much comfort from heging coarse bits 
 of beef. And so we might, but you do not know, Sir, that 
 we can seldom get them, even when we had the money, and 
 times were not so bad." — " How so, Betty ?" — 44 Sir, when 
 we go to butcher Jobbins for a bit of shin, or any other lean 
 piece, his answer is, " You can't have it to day ; the cook at 
 the great house has bespoke it for gravy, or the Doctor's maid 
 (begging your pardon, Sir, )has just ordered it for soup." Now 
 Sir, if such kind gentlefolks were aware that this gravy and 
 soup not only consumes a great deal of meat, (which, to be 
 sure, those have a right to use who can pay for it) but that 
 it takes away those coarse pieces which the poor would buy, 
 if they bought at all, I am sure they would not do it. For 
 indeed the rich have been very kind, and 1 don't know what 
 we should have done without them."-- 44 1 thank you for the 
 hint, Betty," said the Doctor, <4 and I assure you I will have 
 no more gravy soup. My garden will supply me with soups 
 that are both wholesomerand better. And I will answer for 
 my lady at the great house that she will do the same. I hope 
 this will become a general rule, and then we shall expect that 
 the butchers will favour you m the prices of the coarse pieces, 
 if we buy nothing but the" prime. In our gifts we shall pre- 
 fer as the farmer has toldyou, those who keep steadily to their 
 Work : such as come to the vestry for a loaf, and do not come 
 tp church for the sermon, we shall mark ; and prefer those 
 who come constantly whether there are any gifts or not. But 
 there is one rule from which we never will depart. Those 
 who have been seen aiding or abetting any riot, any attacks 
 on butchers, bakers, wheat mows, mills,' or millers,' we will 
 not relieve. With the quiet, contented, hard-working maa, 
 fcwill share my last morsel of bread. J shall onlv add, that 
 tnough it has pleased God to send us this visitation as a 
 punishment, yet we may convert this short trial into a lasting 
 messing if we all turn over a new leaf. Prosperitv had made 
 most of us careless. The thoughtless profusion of some of 
 ™e rich, could only be exceeded by the idleness and bad 
 
28 
 
 management of some of the poor. Let us now at last ado. 
 that good old maxim evay one mmd on ^ A P 
 
 Cjod add his blessing !" a ) 
 The people now ^cheerfully departed with their rice rP 
 solvmg m many of them as could get milk, to put one 
 Mrs. White s receipts in practice that very night ; and a ra 
 supper they had. ' . ' * arf 
 
 I hope soon to give a good account how this parish im 
 proved in ease and comfort, by their improvement in fr m 
 tity and good managemen" 
 
 %* Just published— The Two Shoemakers, Part tfcc6&;<» 
 the duty of carrying Religion into our Amusements. Price M 
 
 - 
 
 Howard and Evans, Printers, 42 ; Long.Lam