who was only desirous of living with her. Saturday Night; or the Workmen's Wages. But how I run on! I forget it is Saturday No, no, forsooth, her lover must declare night, and that I ought to be paying my himself ready to die for her, which honest workinen, who are all waiting for me withWilson was not such a fool as to offer to do.out. In the afternoon, however, he got a little into her favour by making out a rebus or two in the Lady's Diary; and she condescended to say, she did not think Mr. Wilson had As soon as Mr. Bragwell had done paying been so good a scholar; but he soon spoilt his men, Mr. Worthy, who was always reaall again. We had a little dance in the eve-dy to extract something useful from accining. The young man, though he had not dental circumstances, said to him, I have much taste for those sort of gambols, yet made it a habit, and I hope not an unprothought he could foot it a little in the old-fitable one, of trying to turn to some moral fashioned way. So he asked Betsey to be use, not only all the events of daily life, but his partner. But when he asked what dance all the employments of it too. And though they should call, Miss drew up her head, it occurs so often, I hardly know one that and in a strange gibberish, said she should sets me thinking more seriously than the dance nothing but a Menuet de la Cour, ordinary business you have been dischargand ordered him to call it. Wilson stared, ing.-Ay, said Bragwell, it sets me thinkand honestly told her she must call it her-ing too, and seriously, as you say, when I self; for he could neither spell nor pro- observe how much the price of wages is innounce such outlandish words, nor assist increased.-Yes, yes, you are ready enough such an outlandish performance. I burst to think of that, said Worthy, but you say out a laughing, and told him, I supposed it not a word of how much the value of your was something like questions and commands; land is increased, and that the more you and if so, that was much merrier than dan-pay, the more you can afford to pay. But cing. Seeing her partner standing stock the thoughts I spoke of are quite of another still, and not knowing how to get out of the cast. scrape, the girl began by herself, and fell to swimming, and sinking, and capering, and flourishing, and posturing, for all the world just like the man on the slack rope at our fair. But seeing Wilson slanding like a stuck pig, and we all laughing at her, she resolved to wreak her malice upon him; so, with a look of rage and disdain, she advised him to go down country bumpkin, with the dairy maid, who would make a much fitter partner, as well as wife, for him, than she could do. When I call in my labourers, on a Saturday night, to pay them, it often brings to my mind the great and general day of account, when I, and you, and all of us, shall be called to our grand and awful reckoning, when we shall go to receive our wages, master and servants, farmer and labourer. When I see that one of my men has failed of the wages he should have received, because he has been idling at a fair; another has lost a day by a drinking-bout, a third confesses that, though he had task-work, and might I am quite of your mind, Miss, said he, have earned still more, yet he has been with more spirit than I thought was in him; careless, and has not his full pay to receive; you may make a good partner for a dance, this, I say, sometimes sets me on thinking but you would make a sad one to go through whether I also have made the most of my life with. I will take my leave of you, Miss, time. And when I come to pay even the with this short story. I had lately a pretty more diligent, who have worked all the large concern in hay-jobbing, which took me week, when I reflect that even these have to London. I waited a good while in the done no more than it was their duty to do, I Hay-Market for my dealer, and, to pass cannot help saying to myself, night is come; away the time, I stepped into a sort of fo- Saturday night is come. No repentance, reign singing play-house there, where I was or diligence on the part of these poor men grieved to the heart to see young women can now make a bad week's work good. painted and dizened out, and capering away This week has gone into eternity. Tojust as you have been doing. I thought it morrow is the season of rest; working time bad enough in them, and wondered the qua- is over. There is no knowledge nor delity could be entertained with such indecent vice in the grave.' My life also will soon be mummery. But little did I think to meet swallowed up in eternity; soon the space with the same paint, finery, and posturing allotted me for diligence, for labour, will be tricks in a farm house. I will never marry over. Soon will the grand question be asked, a woman who despises me, nor the station in 'What hast thou done?-Give an account which I should place her, and so I take my of thy stewardship. Didst thou use thy leave. Poor girl, how she was provoked! working days to the end for which they to be publicly refused, and turned off, as it were given? With some such thoughts I were, by a grazier! But it was of use to commonly go to bed, and they help to some of the other girls, who have not held quicken me to a keener diligence for the up their heads quite so high since, nor paint-next week, ed quite so red, but have condescended to speak to their equals, Some account of a Sunday in Mr. Brag-him only to such a plain Sunday's dinner as well's family. could be dressed without keeping any one from church, when he surveyed the loaded table of his friend, instead of feeling that envy which these grand preparations were meant to raise, felt nothing but disgust at the vanity of his friend's wife, mixed with much thankfulness for the piety and simplicity of his own. Mr. Worthy had been for so many years used to the sober ways of his own well-ordered family, that he greatly disliked to pass a Sunday in any house of which Religion was not the governing principle. Indeed, he commonly ordered his affairs, and regulated his journies with an eye to this object. After having made the dinner wait a long To pass a Sunday in an irreligious family, time, the miss Bragwells marched in, dresssaid he, is always unpleasant, often unsafe.- ed as if they were going to the assize-ball; I seldom find I can do them any good, and they looked very scornfully at having been they may perhaps do me some harm. At so hurried; though they had been dressing least, I am giving a sanction to their man-ever since they got up, and their fond father, ner of passing it, if I pass it in the same when he saw them so fine, forgave all their manner. If I reprove them, I subject my-impertinence, and cast an eye of triumph on self to the charge of singularity, and of be- Mr. Worthy, who felt he had never loved ing 'righteous over-much;' if I do not re- his own humble daughters so well as at that prove them, I confirm and strengthen them moment. in evil. And whether I reprove them or not, I certainly partake of their guilt, if I spend it as they do. guests. Mr. Bragwell had this day forborne to ask any of his usual company; well knowing that their vain and worldly conversation would only serve to draw on him some new reprimand from nis friend. In the afternoon, the whole party went to church. To do them justice, it was indeed their common practice once a day, when the He had, however, so strong a desire to be weather was good, and the road was nei her useful to Mr. Bragwell, that he at length de- dusty nor dirty, when the minister did not termined to break through his common prac- begin too early, when the young ladies had tice, and pass the Sunday at his house. Mr. not been disappointed of their new bonnets Worthy was surprised to find that though on the Saturday night, and when they had no the church bell was going, the breakfast was smart company in the house, who rather not ready, and expressed his wonder how wished to stay at home. When this last was this could be the case in so industrious a the case, which, to say the truth, happened family. Bragwell made some awkward ex- pretty often, it was thought a piece of good cuses. He said his wife worked her ser-manners to conform to the humour of the vants so hark all the week, that even she, as notable as she was, a little relaxed from the strictness of her demands on Sunday mornings; and he owned that in a general way, no one was up early enough for church. He confessed that his wife commonly spent the Mrs. Bragwell and her daughters picked morning in making puddings, pies, syllabubs, up, as usual, a good deal of acquaintance at and cakes, to last through the week; as church. Many compliments passed, and Sunday was the only leisure time she and her much of the news of the week was retailed maids had. Mr. Worthy soon saw an un- before the service began. They waited common bustle in the house. All hands with impatience for the reading the lessons were busy. It was nothing but baking, and as a licensed season for whispering, and the boiling, and stewing, and frying, and roast-subject begun during the lessons, was finishing, and running, and scolding, and eating.ed while they were singing the psalms. The The boy was kept from church to clean the young ladies made an appointment for the plate, the man to gather the fruit, the mis-afternoon with a friend in the next pew, tress to make the cheesecakes, the maids to while their mamma took the opportunity of dress the dinner, and the young ladies to dress themselves. The truth was, Mrs. Bragwell, who had heard much of the order and good management of Mr. Worthy's family, but who looked down with disdain upon them as far less rich than herself, was resolved to indulge her vanity on the present occasion. She was determined to be even with Mrs. Worthy, in whose praises Bragwell had been so loud, and felt no small pleasure in the hope of making her guest uneasy, in comparing her with his own wife, when he should be struck dumb with the display both of her skill and her wealth. Mr. Worthy was indeed struck to behold as large a dinner as he had been used to see at a justice's meeting. He, whose frugal and pious wife had accustomed inquiring aloud the character of a dairy maid, which she observed with a compliment to her own good management, would save time on a week-day. Mr. Worthy, who found himself quite in a new world, returned home with his friend alone. In the evening he ventured to ask Bragwell, if he did not, on a Sunday night, at least, make it a custom to read and pray with his family. Bragwell told him, he was sorry to say he had no family at home, else he should like to do it for the sake of example. But as his servants worked hard all the week, his wife was of opinion that they should then have a little holiday. Mr. Worthy pressed it home upon him, whether the utter neglect of his servants' principles was not likely to make a heavy article in his final account and asked him if he did not wife, yet she is always changing her serbelieve that the too general liberty of meet-vants; so that every quarter-day is a sort of ing together, jaunting, and diverting them-jail-delivery at my house; and when they go selves, on Sunday evenings, was not often off, as they often do, at a moment's warning, found to produce the worst effects on the to own the truth, I often give them money morals of servants and the good order of privately, that they may not carry my wife families? I put it to your conscience, said before the justice to get their wages. he, Mr. Bragwell, whether Sunday, which was meant as a blessing and a benefit, is not, as it is commonly kept, turned into the most mischievous part of the week, by the selfish kindness of masters, who, not daring to set their servants about any public work, allot them that day to follow their own devices, that they themselves may with more rigour refuse them a little indulgence, and a reasonable holiday, in the working part of the week, which a good servant has now and then a fair right to expect. Those masters who will give them half, or all the Lord's day, will not spare them a single hour of a working day. Their work must be done; God's work may be let alone. I see, said Mr. Worthy, that all your worldly compliances do not procure you even worldly happiness. As to my own family, I take care to let them see that their pleasure is bound up with their duty, and that what they may call my strictness, has nothing in view but their safety and happiness. By this means I commonly gain their love, as well as secure their obedience. I know, that with all my care, I am liable to be disappointed, 'from the corruption that is in the world through sin.' But whenever this happens, so far from encouraging me in remissness, it only serves to quicken my zeal. If by God's blessing, my servant turns out a good Christian, I have been a humble instrument in his hand of saving a soul committed to my charge. Mrs. Bragwell came home, but brought only one of her daughters with her, the other, she said, had given them the slip, and was gone with a young friend, and would not return for a day or two. Mr. Bragwell was greatly displeased; as he knew that young friend had but a slight character, and kept bad acquaintances. Mrs. Bragwell came in, all hurry and bustle, saying, if her family did not go to bed with the lamb on Sundays, when they had nothing to do, how could they rise with the lark on Mondays, when so much was to be done. Mr. Bragwell owned that Sunday had produced many mischiefs in his own family. That the young men and maids, having no eye upon them, frequently went to improper places with other servants, turned adrift like themselves. That in these parties the poor girls were too frequently led astray, and the men got to public houses and fives-playing. But it was none of his business to watch them. His family only did as others do; indeed it was his wife's concern; and she was so good a manager on other days, that she would not spare them an hour to visit a sick father or mother, it would be hard, she said, if they might not have Sunday afternoon to themselves, and she could not blame them for making the most of it. Indeed, she was Mr. Worthy had this night much matter so indulgent in this particular, that she often for reflection. We need not, said he, go inexcused the men from going to church, that to the great world to look for dissipation and they might serve the beasts, and the maids, vanity. We can find both in a farm house, that they might get the milking done before As for me and my house,' continued he, the holiday part of the evening came on, we will serve the Lord' every day, but esShe would not indeed hear of any competi-pecially on Sundays. It is the day which tion between doing her work and taking their pleasure; but when the difference lay between their going to church and taking their pleasure, he must say that for his wife, she always inclined to the good-natured side of the question. She is strict enough in keeping them sober, because drunkenness is a costly sin; and to do her justice she does not care how little they sin at her expense. Well, said Mr. Worthy, I always like to examine both sides fairly, and to see the different effects of opposite practices; now, which plan produces the greatest share of the Lord hath made: hath made for himself; we will rejoice in it,' and consider the religious use of it, not only as a duty, but as a privilege. The next morning Mr. Bragwell and his friend set out early for the Golden Lion. What passed on this little journey, my readers shall hear soon. PART IV. ing's ride. comfort to the master, and of profit to the The subject of prayer discussed in a mornservants in the long run? Your servants, 'tis likely, are very much attached to you; and very fond of living where they get their own way in so great a point. Ó, as to that, replied Bragwell, you are quite out. My house is a scene of discord, mutiny, and discontent. And though there is not a better manager in England than my It was mentioned in the last part of this history, that the chief reason which had drawn Mr. Worthy to visit his friend just at the present time was, that Mr. Bragwell had a small estate to sell by auction. Mr. Worthy, though he did not think he should be a 1 who have time; and that those who were sick, or old, or out of business, could not do better; but that for his part, he believed much of these sort of things was not expect bidder, wished to be present, as he had business to settle with one or two persons who were expected at the Golden Lion, on that day, and he had put off his visit till he had seen the sale advertised in the county paper.ed from men in active life. Mr. Bragwell and Mr. Worthy set out Mr. Worthy. I should think, Mr. Bragearly on the Monday morning, on their way well, that those who are most exposed to to the Golden Lion, a small inn in a neigh-temptations stand most in need of prayer; bouring market town. As they had time now there are few, methinks, who are more before them, they had agreed to ride slowly, exposed to temptation than men in business; that they might converse on some useful sub- for those must be in most danger, at least ject, but here, as usual, they had two opin- from the world, who have most to do with ions about the same thing. Mr. Bragwell's it. And if this be true, ought we not to prenotion of an useful subject was, something pare ourselves in the closet for the trials of by which money was to be got, and a good the market, the field, and the shop? It is but bargain struck. Mr. Worthy was no less a putting on our armour before we go out to man of business than his friend. His schemes battle. were wise, and his calculations just; his reputation for integrity and good sense made him the common judge and umpire in his neighbour's affairs, while, no one paid a more exact attention to every transaction of his own. But the business of getting money was uot with him the first, much less was it the whole concern of the day. He sought, in the first place, the kingdom of God and his righteousness.' Every morning when he rose, he remembered that he had a Maker to worship as well as a family to maintain. Religion, however, never made him neglect business, though it sometimes led him to postpone it. He used to say, no man had any reason to expect God's blessing through I the day, who did not ask it in the morning; Bragwell. You are talking, Mr. Worthy, nor was he likely to spend the day in the fear as if I were an enemy to religion. Sir, I of God, who did not begin it with his wor-am no heathen. Sir, I am a Christian; I beship. But he had not the less sense, spirit, and activity, when he was among men abroad, because he had first served God at home. Bragwell. For my part, I think example is the whole of religion, and if the master of a family is orderly, and regular, and goes to church, he does every thing which can be required of him, and no one has a right to call him to account for any thing more. Worthy. Give me leave to say, Mr. Bragwell, that highly as I rate a good example, still I must set a good principle above it. I know I must keep good order indeed, for the sake of others; but I must keep a good conscience for my own sake. To God I owe secret piety, I must therefore pray to him in private.-To my family I owe a Christian example, and for that, among other reasons, must not fail to go to church. long to the church; I go to church; I always drink prosperity to the church. You yourself, as strict as you are, in never missing it twice a day, are not a warmer friend to the church than I am. As these two farmers rode along, Mr. Worthy took occasion, from the fineness of Worthy. That is to say, you know its inthe day, and the beauty of the country estimable value as a political institution; through which they passed, to turn the dis-but you do not seem to know that a man course to the goodness of God, and our infinite obligations to him. He knew that the transition from thanksgiving to prayer would be natural and easy; and he therefore, sliding by degrees into that important subject, observed, that secret prayer was a duty of universal obligation, which every man had it in his power to fulfil, and which he seriously believed was the ground-work of all religious practice, and of all devout affections. may be very irreligious under the best religious institutions; and that even the most excellent only furnishes the means of being religious, and is no more religion itself than brick and mortar are prayers and thanksgivings. I shall never think, however high their profession, and even however regular their attendance, that those men truly respect the church, who bring home little of that religion which is taught in it into their own families or their own hearts; or, who Mr. Bragwell felt conscious that he was make the whole of Christianity to consist in very negligent and irregular in the per- a mere formal attendance there. Excuse, formance of this duty; indeed, he consider-me, Mr. Bragwell. ed it as a mere ceremony, or at least, as a Bragwell. Mr. Worthy, I am persuaded duty which might give way to the slightest that religion is quite a proper thing for the temptation of drowsiness at night, or of bu-poor; and I don't think that the multitude siness in the morning. As he knew he did can ever be kept in order without it; and I not live in the conscientious performance of am a sort of a politician you know. We this practice, he tried to ward off the sub-must have bits, and bridles, and restraints ject, knowing what a home way his friend for the vulgar. had of putting things. After some evasion, Worthy. Your opinion is very just, as far he at last said, he certainly thought private as it goes; but it does not go far enough, prayer a good custom, especially for people since, it does not go to the root of the evil; for while you value yourself on the sound-derers; for I imagine they could not well ness of this principle as a politician, I wish contrive to make the same prayer quite suit you also to see the reason of it as a Christian; an honest man and a rogue; and so I supdepend upon it, if religion be good for the pose they thought it better to make a good community at large, it is equally good for man repeat a prayer which suited a rogue, every family; and what is right for a family than to make a rogue repeat a prayer which is equally right for each individual in it. suited a good man; and you know it is so You have therefore yourself brought the customary for every body to repeat the gemost unanswerable argument why you ought neral confession, that it can't hurt the credit to be religious yourself, by asking how we of the most respectable persons, though eveshall keep others in order without religion.ry respectable person must know they have For, believe me, Mr. Bragwell, there is no no particular concern in it; as they are not particular clause to except you in the Gos- sinners. pel. There are no exceptions there in fa- Worthy. Depend upon it, Mr. Bragwell, your of any one class of men. The same re-those good doctors you speak of, were not straints which are necessary for the people quite of your opinion; they really thought at large, are equally necessary for men of that what you call honest men were grievous every order, high and low, rich and poor, sinners in a certain sense, and that the best bond and free, learned and ignorant. If Je- of us stand in need of making that humble sus Christ died for no one particular rank, confession. Mr. Bragwell, do you believe class, or community, then there is no one in the fall of Adam? rank, class, or community, exempt from the obedience to his laws enjoined by the Gospel. May I ask you, Mr. Bragwell, what is your reason for going to church? Bragwell. To be sure I do, and a sad thing for Adam it was; why, it is in the Bible, is it not? It is one of the prettiest chapters in Genesis. Don't you believe it, Mr. Wor Bragwell. Sir, I am shocked at your ques-thy? tion. How can I avoid doing a thing so customary and so creditable? Not go to church, indeed! What do you take me for, Mr. Worthy? I am afraid you suspect me to be a papist, or a heathen, or of some religion or other that is not Christian, Worthy. If a foreigner were to hear how violently one set of Christians in this country often speak against another, how earnest would he suppose us all to be in religious Worthy. Yes, truly I do. But I don't believe it merely because I read it in Genesis; though I know, indeed, that I am bound to believe every part of the word of God. But I have still an additional reason for believing in the fall of the first man. Bragwell. Have you, indeed? Now, I can't guess what that can be. what is within myself teaches me to believe Worthy. Why, my own observation of matters: and how astonished to discover that many a man has perhaps little other proof to sis which convinces me of the truth of the it. It is not only the third chapter of Genegive of the sincerity of his own religion, ex-fall, but also the sinful inclinations which I apt the violence with which he hates the re-find in my own heart corresponding with it. ligion of another party. It is not irreligion This is one of those leading truths of Chriswhich such men hate; but the religion of the man, or the party, whom we are set against: tianity of which I can never doubt a monow hatred is certainly no part of the religion of the Gospel. Well, you have told me why you go to church; now pray tell me, why do you confess there on your bended knees, every Sunday, that you have erred and strayed from God's ways?'-'that there is no health in you?'—that you have done what you ought not to do?-and that you are a miserable sinner?' Bragwell. Because it is in the Common Prayer Book, to be sure; a book which I have heard you yourself say was written by wise and good men; the glory of Christianity, the pillars of the protestant church. Worthy. But have you no other reason? Bragwell. No, I can't say I have. Worthy. When you repeat that excellent form of confession, do you really feel that you are a miserable sinner? Bragwell. No, I can't say I do. But that is no objection to my repeating it; because it may suit the cause of many who are so. I suppose the good doctors who drew it up, intended that part for wicked people only, such as drunkards, and thieves, and murVOL. I. 21 ed or implied in Scripture; and next, be- have tell · But is not this a very melancholy sort of docBragwell. Well; I never thought of this. trine, Mr. Worthy? Worthy. It is melancholy, indeed, if we stop here. But while we are deploring this sad truth, let us take comfort from another, that as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive.' Bragwell. Yes; I remember I thought those very fine words, when I heard them said over my poor father's grave. But as it was in the burial of the dead, I did not think of taking it to myself; for I was then young and hearty, and in little danger of dying, and |