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 much moved; he shook the farmer by the hand, and said, "But thou, when thou makest a feast, call the blind, and the lame, and the halt; they cannot recompense thee, but thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just."

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Sir," said the farmer, "'tis no great matter of expense; I kill a sheep of my own; potatoes are as plentiful as blackberries, with people who have a little forethought. 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 the poorer at Christmas. It is cheaper to make people happy, sir, 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 indecent song; so that he was not forced to the painful necessity either of reproving them, or leaving them in anger. When all was over, they sung the sixty-fifth psalm, and the ladies all joined in it; and when they got home to the vicarage to tea, they declared they liked it better than any concert.

The Hard Winter.

In the famous cold winter of the year 1795, it was edifying to see how patiently Farmer White bore that long and severe frost. Many of his sheep were frozen to death, but he thanked God that he had still many left. He continued to find in-door work, that his men might not be out of employ. The season being so bad, which some others pleaded as an excuse for turning off their workmen, he thought a fresh reason for keeping them. 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 while 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, a pie, or a pudding in the house, notwithstanding she used to have plenty of these good things, and will again, I hope, when the present scarcity is over; though she says she never will use such white flour again, even if it should come down to five shillings a bushel.

Farmer Jones was

All the parish now began to murmur. sure the frost had killed the wheat. Farmer Wilson said the rye would never come up. Brown the maltster insisted the barley 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 orchards were all blighted; there would not be apples enough to make a pie; and as to hay, there would be none to be had for love nor money. "I'll tell you what," said Farmer White, "the season is dreadful; the crops are unpromising just now; but 'tis too early to judge. Don't let us make things worse than they are. We ought to comfort the poor, and you are driving them to despair. Don't you know how much God was displeased with the murmurs of his chosen people? And yet, when they were tired of manna, he sent them quails; but all did not do. Nothing satisfies grumblers. We have a promise on our side, that there shall be seed-time and harvesttime to the end.' Let us then hope for a good day, but provide against an evil one. Let us rather prevent the evil before it is come upon us, than sink under it when it comes. Grumbling cannot help us; activity can. Let us set about planting potatoes in every nook and corner, in case the corn should fail; which, however, I don't believe will be the case. Let us mend our management before we are driven to it by actual want. And if we allow our honest laborers to plant a few potatoes for their families in the headlands of our ploughed fields, or other waste bits of ground, it will do us no harm, and be a great help to them. The way to lighten the load of any public calamity is not to murmur at it, but put a hand to lessen it."

The farmer had many temptations to send his corn, at an extravagant price, to a certain seaport town; but as he knew that it was intended to export it against law, he would not be tempted to encourage unlawful gain; so he threshed out a small mow at a time, and sold it to the neighboring poor far below the market-price. He served his own workmen first. This was the same to them as if he had raised their wages, and even better, as it was a benefit of which their families were sure to partake. If the poor in the next parish were more distressed than his own, he sold to them at the same rate; for said he, "there is no distinction of parishes in heaven; and though charity begins at home, yet it ought not to end there."

He had 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 with a couple of spaniels he had; for he said he could not bear that his dogs should be eating the meat, or the milk, which so many men, women, and children wanted.

The White Loaf.

One day, it was about the middle of last July,-when things seemed to be at the dearest, and the rulers of the land had agreed to set the example of eating nothing but coarse bread, Dr. Shepherd read, before sermon in the church, their public declaration, which the magistrates of the county sent him. Mrs. White, of course, was at church, and commended it mightily. Next morning, the doctor took a walk over to the farmer's, in order to settle further plans for the relief of the parish. He was much surprised to meet Mrs. White's little maid Sally, with a very small white loaf, which she had been buying at a shop. He said nothing to the girl, as he never thought it right to expose the faults of a mistress to her servant; but walked on, resolving to give Mrs. White a severe lecture for the first time in his life. He soon changed his mind; for, on going into the kitchen, the first person he saw was Tom the thatcher, who had had a sad fall from a ladder; his arm, which was slipped out of his sleeve, was swelled in a frightful manner. Mrs. White was standing at the dresser, making the little white loaf into a poultice, which she laid upon the swelling in a large, clean, old linen cloth.

"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 come here, 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 skilful surgeon could only apply a poultice. Your kindness in dressing the wound yourself, will, I doubt not, perform the cure at the expense of that threepenny loaf and a little hog's lard. And I will take care that Tom shall have a good supply of rice from the subscription." "And he shan't want for skim-milk," said Mrs. White; "and was he the best lord in the land, in the state he 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 meeting, to consult on the best method of further assisting the poor. The prospect of abundant crops now cheered every heart. Farmer White, who had a mind to be a little jocular with his desponding neighbors, said, "Well, neighbor Jones, all the wheat was killed, I suppose! the barley is all dead at the root!" Farmer Jones looked sheepish, and said, "To be sure, the crops had turned out better than he thought." "Then," said Dr. Shepherd, "let us learn to trust Providence another time; let our experience of his past goodness strengthen our faith.”

Among other things, they agreed to subscribe for a large quantity of rice, which was to be sold out to the poor at a very low price; and Mrs. White was so kind as to undertake the trouble of selling it. After their day's work was over, all who wished to buy at these reduced rates, were ordered to come to the farm on the Tuesday evening. Dr. Shepherd dropped in at the same time; and when Mrs. White had done weighing her rice, the doctor spoke as follows:

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My honest friends, it has pleased God, for some wise end, to visit this land with a scarcity, to which we have been but little accustomed. There are some idle, evil-minded people, who are on the watch for public distresses; not that they may humble themselves under the mighty hand of God (which is the true use to be made of all troubles), but that they may benefit themselves by disturbing the public peace. These people, by riot and drunkenness, double the evil which they pretend to cure. Riot will complete our misfortunes, while peace, industry, and good management, will go near to cure them. Bread, to be sure, is uncommonly dear. Among the various ways of making it cheaper, one is, to reduce the quality of it; another, to lessen the quantity we consume. If we cannot get enough of coarse wheaten bread, let us make it of other grain. Or, let us mix one half of potatoes, and one half of wheat. This last is what I eat in my own family; it is pleasant and wholesome. Our blessed Savior ate barley bread, you know, as we are told in the last month's Sunday Reading of the Cheap Repository,* which I hope you have all heard; as I desired the master of the Sunday-school to

* See Cheap Repository Tract on the Scarcity, printed for T. Evans, Long Lane, West Smithfield, London.

read it just after evening-service, when I know many of the parents are apt to call in at the school. This is a good custom; and one of those 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 going to show my good-will, as much by my advice as my subscription. It is my duty, as your friend and minister, to tell you, that one half of your present hardships is owing to bad management. I often meet your children without shoes and stockings, with great luncheons of the very whitest bread, and that three times a day. Half that quantity, and still less, if it were coarse, put into a dish of good onion or leek porridge, would make them an excellent breakfast. Many, too, of the very poorest of you, eat your bread hot from the oven; this makes the difference of one loaf in five; I assure you 'tis what I cannot afford to do. Come, Mrs. White, you must assist me a little. I am not very knowing in these matters myself; but I know that the rich would be twice as charitable as they are, if the poor made a better use of their bounty. Mrs. White, do give these poor women a little advice how to make their pittance go further than it now does. When you lived with me, you were famous for making us nice cheap dishes, and I dare say you are not less notable now you manage for yourself."

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Indeed, neighbors," said Mrs. White, "what the good doctor says is very true. A halfpenny worth of oatmeal, 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 at any time to think a bit of meat is so ruinous, and a great load of bread so cheap. A poor man gets seven or eight shillings a week; if he is careful, he brings it home. I dare not say how much of this goes for tea in the afternoon, now sugar and butter are so dear, because I should have you all upon me; but I will say, that too much of this little goes even for bread, from a mistaken notion that it is the hardest fare. This, at all times, but particularly just now, is bad management. Dry peas, to be sure, have been very dear lately; but now they are plenty enough. I am certain then, that if a shilling or two of the seven or eight was laid out for a bit of coarse beef, a sheep's 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 gray peas, an onion, and a little pepper. Then I would throw in cabbage or turnip, and carrot, or any garden stuff that was most plenty;