THE PENNY TRACT.

Nor many years ago, at a time when religious people first began to write tracts for the poor, two young la dies were sitting, one morning in July, in an arbour in their father's garden. The weather was clear and fine, and they were shaded from the burning rays of the sun by the honeysuckles which covered the lattice-work of the arbour, and shed abroad their sweet smell throughout the garden. The young ladies were not employed in useful works for their own family, because their pa rents were rich, and could afford others to work for them; neither were they engaged in working for the poor, for, having felt no troubles and wants themselves, they had no feeling for the wants of others. Nor can I give much account of what they were doing, though they had a table before them, covered with books, and pencils, and workbags, and boxes.

Now, while they were thus idling those precious hours which might have been" devoted in so many ways to the service of God," they saw an old man, with a basket on his arm, walk into the garden, and come towards them; he was neatly dressed, and had a grave and decent aspect; he came up close to the arbour, and, making a low bow, said, “Ladies, will you please to buy some tracts?" "Tracts," repeated the elder of the sisters, "what are those? but I see," added she, "you are a hawker, and go about, I suppose, retailing twopenny books and songs up and down the country; no doubt your basket is full of all manner of wicked trash; such persons as you do great mischief, and ought to be taken up and punished."

"Lady," said the old man, meekly, if you will be pleased to look at my books, you will find that they are not such as you speak of; there was a time, I will honestly say, when I got my bread by selling such profane books and ballads as you allude to; but about three years ago I met with a godly lady, who laid before me the wretchedness of my way of life. This lady," proceeded he," told me that I should be doing less harm if I were to go about poisoning every brook and fountain in the land, than I did in retailing such writings as

infused poison into the heart; those were her very words; I should never forget them, if I were to live to be a hundred years old; and, moreover," added he, "this lady had the goodness to direct me to a place where I could get religious tracts and holy songs for sale; so I followed her advice, and have pursued the trade ever since."

"Our

Having thus spoken, the hawker took a few of his best tracts out of his basket, and offered them to the young lady. "And what are we to do with them?" said she, carelessly glancing her eye upon them, as the old man held them before her. "Give them to your poor neighbours, or your servants, lady, if you have no use for them yourself," answered the hawker. neighbours," replied she," would not thank us for them, unless it were in default of chips, when there was any haste to light a fire." "Lady!" said the old man, gravely, "these books contain many holy words." "Very likely," she answered, "but if no one read these holy words, who will be the better for them?"

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And wherefore should you suppose, lady,” asked the hawker, "that no one would read them? I have been employed in selling books of this kind for three years, and I know that many read them, and take infinite delight in them; and I have actually known several who have gone without a meal to procure one of them."-"I see," said the younger sister, smiling, "that you understand your business, my good man; your books will not lie in your basket for want of your good word, at any rate." Lady," replied the old man, "I do not offer you such wares as you cannot form a judgment of yourselves; only read one or two of my tracts, and, if you approve of their contents, bestow them upon your poor neighbours; they will assuredly read them, and if you do not presently see the good effects of their kindness, they may nevertheless appear hereafter; for it is so written, ' Cast thy bread upon the waters, and after many days thou shalt find it.""

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The young ladies seemed inclined to be diverted by every thing the old man said, and one of them, happening to have a penny wrapped up in paper in her nettingbox, tossed it carelessly into his basket, saying, that she hoped to have one of his best articles in return. The old man took the penny into his hand, bowed, and, setting his basket down, chose one of his best tracts

(the title of which was the Day of Judgment), which he placed respectfully on the table, and taking up his basket, walked away.

The young ladies had amused themselves some minutes with laughing at the old man and his tracts, when a miserable ragged woman, carrying a sickly infant in her arms, presented herself at the garden gate, and began to ask alms in a whining and sorrowful voice. The young ladies were too much engaged with their own idle and merry conceits to observe this poor creature, who opened the gate, and came up the gravel walk towards the arbour, as the hawker had done before. As soon as the sisters perceived this miserable object, they screamed as if they had been frightened, and then laughed at their own ridiculous fears. The poor woman, who was too much taken up by her own distresses to regard either the affected screams or the laughter of the young people, now renewed her entreaties for charity, upon which the elder lady tossed her sixpence, and the other, looking archly at her sister, held out the newly-purchased tract to the beggar, saying, “There, take that home; it is to do you a vast deal of good, how much I cannot tell you.' The poor woman received the little book as seriously as she supposed it had been offered to her, and, making a courtesy, she answered, “ I cannot read, miss, more the pity; but my husband is an extraordinary good scholar."- Oh, then, that little book will be the very thing for him," said the giddy girl," so pray be sure to give it to him."

The poor beggar, as I have before remarked, was by no means aware that these young ladies were jesting with her; but if she had been, it ought to have made no difference in her opinion of the value of the tract-for that which is good would remain good still, though all the world were to unite in saying it is naught; and that which is evil would be evil still, though earth and hell were joined together to say it is not so; therefore those will assuredly be confounded and brought to shame at last, who call good evil and evil good. Now this little book, which the lady had put into the hand of the beggar, was full of precious matter, and many rich quotations from the word of God; and as the prophet Elijah did not find the meat which the Lord sent him in the wilderness less acceptable, because it was brought to him by the ravens rather than the doves, neither did

this little volume lose aught of its real value by passing into the possession of the beggar through profane hands.

But to leave these reflections, and return to my story. The poor woman was so well pleased with what she had obtained from these ladies, that she made her best courtesy, and turned her steps towards her miserable home; but as she begged at the door of every house she passed by the way, it was in the afternoon before she reached her cottage. The dwelling of this poor woman was a house on the borders of a common, which had been originally well-built, was sufficiently roomy, and stood in a spacious patch of ground, where several fruit-trees remained; but, notwithstanding all these advantages, the idleness and vice of its present owners had rendered this place a scene of ruin, desolation, and filth. The garden had been so long neglected that it was become a wilderness; the broken windows were stuffed with rags; part of the chimney had fallen; the thatch was out of repair; and, in short, every thing, both within and without this miserable habitation, bespoke the poverty, slovenliness, and idleness of its inhabitants. The name of the man who possessed this tenement was Francis Downes, the husband of the poor beggar-woman before mentioned; he was an excellent workman when he chose to work, and pretended to make a living by cutting fruit-trees, and jobbing about in different gardens; but these were only pretences, for what he gained in these honest ways was a mere trifle, while the greater part of his livelihood was, in fact, obtained by poaching and pilfering. This man, about four years before, had married a servant-maid in a farmhouse. The woman was a poor, ignorant, simple creature, who might, in good hands, have made a quiet, tidy wife; but she was by no means fit to have to do with such a man as Frank Downes.

This poor creature he had often reduced to the extremities of want; for, as his gains were uncertain, his whole life was a round of feasts and fasts, days of riot, and long periods of distress and penury. Poor Mary Downes felt her misery, but did not know how to set about mending her situation, for she was ignorant of her duties as a good housewife or prudent mother; and it was not likely that she should acquire the knowledge of these duties under a man who kept her in a constant state of fear and distress of mind. With respect to

religion, this poor creature knew about as much as is generally known by the lower order of servants in farmhouses, and that, I am sorry to say, is generally little enough. Since her unhappy marriage, she had lain one of her little ones in its grave, and she was often much distressed by the sickly appearance of the child she carried in her arms, for, though helpless and ignorant, she was a tender mother.

About a week before the time of which I am speaking, Francis Downes had put out his ankle in one of his nightly excursions; and having been, in consequence, closely confined at home, and unable to work, he had made the house appear to his wife more wretched than ever. They had also at this time been reduced to such distress, as they had no credit, and never could contrive to have a penny beforehand, that they had no resource left but to apply to the parish or beg. Now Francis Downes knew that he had so ill a name with the parish officers, that, if he applied for relief, they would compel him to sell his small house and bit of land, and perhaps force him to go with his wife into the house of industry; he therefore resolved that he would not, if he could avoid it, ask them for help. But, as they could not starve, he told his wife that she must go a begging, and make as good a story for herself as she could. The poor woman had suffered so much ever since her husband had been confined at home, by his harsh and cruel usage, that she was not sorry to get out of his way for a short time, though it were for the purpose of picking up a few pence, or a little broken meat, by begging and being, as I have before remarked, extremely ignorant and simple, she had no idea of the disgracefulness of endeavouring to remove her distress in this way. She had been begging several days in different directions with little success: but, on the day of which we are now speaking, she was more fortunate, and returned home, very well satisfied with what she had acquired.

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Francis Downes was sitting at the door, cutting a cork to make a float for his fishing-line, when he saw his wife come up to the gate. He saluted her, as his usual custom was, with an oath, or some abusive epithet; and, asking her where she had been lugging the child, demanded what she had brought back with her. "More than you deserve," she answered, with more