but droves of black slaves in the fields, toiling in the burning sun, under the constant dread of the lash of hard-hearted task-masters;—it was what I could not bring myself to bear; and though I might have been made an overseer of a plantation, I chose rather to live in a town, and follow some domestic occupation. I could soon have got rich there; but I fell into a bad state of health, and people were dying all around me of the yellow fever; so I collected my little property, and, though a war had broken out, I ventured to embark with it for England.

"The ship was taken and carried into the Havanna, and I lost my all, and my liberty besides. However, I had the good fortune to ingratiate myself with a Spanish merchant whom I had known at Jamaica, and he took me with him to the continent of South America. I visited great part of this country, once possessed by flourishing and independent nations, but now groaning under the severe yoke of their haughty conquerors. I saw those famous gold and silver mines, where the poor natives work naked, for ever shut out from the light of day, in order that the wealth of their unhappy land may go to spread luxury and corruption throughout the remotest regions of Europe.

"I accompanied my master across the great southern ocean, a voyage of some months, without the sight of anything but water and sky. We came to the rich city of Manilla, the capital of the Spanish settlements in those parts. There I had my liberty restored, along with a handsome reward for my services. I got thence to China, and from China to the English settlements in the East Indies, where the sight of my countrymen, and the sounds of my native tongue, made me fancy myself almost at home again, though still separated by half the globe.

"Here I saw a delightful country, swarming with industrious inhabitants, some cultivating the land, others employed in manufactures but of so gentle and

effeminate a disposition, that they have always fallen under the yoke of their invaders. Here, how was I forced to blush for my countrymen, whose avarice and rapacity so often have laid waste this fair land, and brought on it all the horrors of famine and desolation! I have seen human creatures quarrelling like dogs for bare bones thrown upon a dunghill. I have seen fathers selling their families for a little rice, and mothers entreating strangers to take their children for slaves, that they might not die of hunger. In the midst of such scenes, I saw pomp and luxury of which our country affords no examples.

"Having remained here a considerable time, I gladly, at length, set my face homewards, and joined a company, who undertook the long and perilous journey to Europe overland. We crossed vast tracts, both desert and cultivated; sandy plains parched with heat and drought, and infested with bands of ferocious plunderers. I have seen a well of muddy water more valued than ten camel-loads of treasure; and a few half-naked horsemen strike more terror than a king with all his guards. At length, after numberless hardships and dangers, we arrived at civilized Europe, and forgot all we had suffered. As I came nearer my native land, I grew more and more impatient to reach it; and, when I had set foot on it, I was still more restless, till I could see again my beloved home.

"Here I am at last happy in bringing back a sound constitution and a clear conscience. I have also brought enough of the relics of my honest gains to furnish a little farm in the neighbourhood, where I mean to sit down and spend my days in the midst of those whom I love better than all the world besides."

When Edward had finished, kisses and kind shakes of the hand were again repeated, and his mother brought out a large slice of harvest cake, with a bottle of her nicest currant wine, to refresh him after his day's march. "You are come," said his father, 31*

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"at a lucky time, for this is our harvest supper. We shall have some of our neighbours to make merry with us, who will be almost as glad to see you as we are-for you were always a favourite among them."

It was not long before the visitors arrived. The young folk ran out to meet them, crying, "Our Edward's come back--our Edward's come home! Here he is this is he;" and so, without ceremony, they introduced them. "Welcome!-welcome! God bless you!" sounded on all sides. Edward knew all the elderly ones at first sight, but the young people puzzled him for a while. At length he recollected this to have been his schoolfellow, and that his companion in driving the plough; and he was not long in finding out his favourite and playfellow Sally, of the next farm-house, whom he left a romping girl of fifteen, and now, saw a blooming, full-formed young woman of three-and-twenty. He contrived in the evening to get next her; and, though she was somewhat reserved at first, they had pretty well renewed their intimacy before the company broke up.

"Health to Edward, and a happy settlement among us!" was the parting toast. When all were retired, the Returned Wanderer went to rest in the very room in which he was born, having first paid fervent thanks to Heaven for preserving him to enjoy a blessing the dearest to his heart.

TWENTY-SIXTH EVENING.

DIFFERENCE AND AGREEMENT;

OR, SUNDAY MORNING.

Ir was Sunday morning. All the bells were ringing for church, and the streets were filled with people moving in all directions.

Here, numbers of well-dressed persons, and a long train of charity children, were thronging in at the

There, a

wide doors of a large handsome church. smaller number, almost equally gay in dress, were entering an elegant meeting-house. Up one alley, a Roman Catholic congregation was turning into their retired chapel, every one crossing himself with a finger dipped in holy water as he went in. The opposite side of the street was covered with a train of Quakers, distinguished by their plain and neat attire and sedate aspect, who walked without ceremony into a room as plain as themselves, and took their seats, the men on one side and the women on the other, in silence. A spacious building was filled with an overflowing crowd of Methodists, most of them meanly habited, but decent and serious in demeanour; while a small society of Baptists in the neighbourhood quietly occupied their humble place of assembly.

Presently the different services began. The church resounded with the solemn organ, and with the indistinct murmurs of a large body of people following the minister in responsive prayers. From the meeting were heard the slow psalm, and the single voice of the leader of their devotions. The Roman Catholic chapel was enlivened by strains of music, the tinkling of a small bell, and a perpetual change of service and ceremonial. A profound silence and unvarying look and posture announced the self-recollection and mental devotion of the Quakers.

Mr. Ambrose led his son Edwin round all these different assemblies as a spectator. Edwin viewed everything with great attention, and was often impatient to inquire of his father the meaning of what he saw; but Mr. Ambrose would not suffer him to disturb any of the congregations even by a whisper. When they had gone through the whole, Edwin found a great number of questions to put to his father, who explained everything to him in the best manner he could. At length says Edwin,

"But why cannot all these people agree to go to the same place, and worship God the same way ?"

"And why should they agree?" replied his father. "Do not you see that people differ in a hundred other things? Do they all dress alike, and eat and drink alike, and keep the same hours, and use the same diversions ?"

"Ay-but those are things in which they have a right to do as they please."

"And they have a right, too, to worship God as they please. It is their own business, and concerns none

but themselves."

"But has not God ordered particular ways of worshipping him ?"

"He has directed the mind and spirit with which he is to be worshipped, but not the particular form and manner. That is left for every one to choose, according as suits his temper and opinions. All these people like their own way best, and why should they leave it for the choice of another? Religion is one of the things in which mankind were made to differ."

The several congregations now began to be dismissed, and the street was again overspread with persons of all the different sects, going promiscuously to their respective homes. It chanced that a poor man fell down in the street in a fit of apoplexy, and lay for dead. His wife and children stood around him, crying and lamenting in the bitterest distress. The beholders immediately flocked around, and, with looks and expressions of the warmest compassion, gave their help. A Churchman raised the man from the ground by lifting him under the arms, while a Dissenter held his head and wiped his face with his handkerchief. A Roman Catholic lady took out her smelling-bottle, and assiduously applied it to his nose. Methodist ran for a doctor. A Quaker supported and comforted the woman, and a Baptist took care of the children.

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Edwin and his father were among the spectators. Here (said Mr. Ambrose) is a thing in which mankind were made to agree.