dry wood, which they deposited in a basket, while a little boy, all in tatters, and extremely lean, was devouring a morsel of bread in a corner. I asked the tallest, who

might be about eight or nine years old, what she intended to do with that wood which she was so busily collecting. She replied, "that poor boy there is very miserable! He has a step-mother, who sends him out all day long to pick up wood: if he carries none home, he is beaten severely; when he happens to have got a little, and is carrying it off, the Swiss at the parkgate takes it from him, and applies it to his own use. He is half dead with hunger, and we have given him our breakfast." Having thus spoken, she and her companion filled the little basket; helped him up with it on his back, and ran away before their unhappy friend to the gate of the park, to see if he could pass unmolested. p. 319.

Whatever is on the earth most useful, most beautiful, and the best, in every kind of thing, is within the reach of every man. Ob

scurity is much better than glory, and virtue than talents. The sun, a little field, a wife, and children, are sufficient to supply a con- * stant succession of pleasures to him. Must he have luxuries too? A flower presents him colours more lovely than the pearl dragged from the abysses of the ocean; and a burning coal on his hearth has a brighter lustre, and beyond all dispute, is infinitely more useful than the famous gem which glitters on the head of the grand Mogul.

After all, what did God owe to every man? Water from the fountain, a little fruit, wool to clothe him, as much land as he is able to cultivate with his own hands. So much for the wants of his body. As to those of the soul, it is sufficient for him to possess in infancy, the love of his parents; in maturity, that of his wife; in old age, the gratitude of his children; at all seasons, the good will of his neighbours, the number of whom is restricted to four or five, according to the extent and form of his domain; so much knowledge of the globe as he can acquire by rambling half a day, so as to get home

to his own bed at night, or at most, to the extremity of his domestic horizon; such a sense of Providence as nature bestows on all men, and which will spring up in his heart fully as well, after he has made the circuit of his field, as after returning from a voyage round the world.p

344.

With corporeal enjoyments, and mental gratifications like these, man ought to be content; whatever he desires beyond these, is above his wants, and inconsistent with the distributions of nature. It is impossible for him to acquire superfluity but by the sacrifice of some necessary; public consideration he must purchase at the price of domestic happiness; and a name in the world of science, by renouncing his repose Besides, those honours, those attendants, those riches, that submission which men so eagerly hunt after, are desired unjustly. A man cannot obtain them but by plundering and enslaving his fellow-citizens. The acquisition of them exposes to incredible labour and anxiety, the possession is disturbed by

incessant care, and privation tears the heart with regret. By pretended blessings such as these, health, reason, conscience, all is depraved and lost.

Virtuous persons, in truth, are sometimes destitute not only of the blessings of society, but of those of nature. To this I answer, that their calamities frequently are productive of unspeakable benefit to them. When persecuted by the world, they are frequently, they are usually incited to engage in some illustrious career. Affliction is the path of great talents, or at least, that of great virtues, which are infinitely preferable. "It is not in your power," said Marcus Aurelius," to be a naturalist, a poet, an orator, a mathematician; but it is in your power to be a virtuous man, which is the best of all." p. 344.

An entire resignation to the will of God ought, in every situation, to soothe the soul to peace. p. 345.

Adversity is the means which God em

ploys to force us to take refuge in himself alone. But for this voice, which addresses itself to every one of us, we should soon forget Him, especially in the tumult of great cities, where so many fleeting interests clash with those that are eternal, and where so many second causes swallow up all attention to the first. p. 347.

Were we assured by some sensible demonration, that a world to come was prepared for us, I have the fullest conviction that all the pursuits of this world, would, from that instant, be abandoned. This perspective of divine felicity, here below, would throw us into a lethargic rapture. I recollect that on my return to France, in a vessel which had been on a voyage to India, as soon as the sailors had perfectly distinguished the land of their native country, they became in a great measure, incapable of attending to the business of the ship. Some looked at it wistfully, without the power of minding any other object; others dressed themselves in their best clothes, as if they had