and vanity; and when his unfeeling wife
declared she could not love the boy unless he was called by their
name instead of Incle, Bragwell would never consent, saying he stood
in need of every help against pride. He also got the letter which
Squeeze wrote just before he shot himself, framed and glazed; this
he hung up in his chamber, and made it a rule to go and read it as
often as he found his heart disposed to VANITY.

'TIS ALL FOR THE BEST.[13]

[13] A profligate wit of a neighboring country having attempted to
turn this doctrine into ridicule, under the same title here
assumed, it occurred to the author that it might not be altogether
useless to illustrate the same doctrine on Christian principles.

"It is all for the best," said Mrs. Simpson, whenever any misfortune
befell her. She had got such a habit of vindicating Providence, that
instead of weeping and wailing under the most trying dispensations,
her chief care was to convince herself and others, that however
great might be her sufferings, and however little they could be
accounted for at present, yet that the Judge of all the earth could
not but do right. Instead of trying to clear herself from any
possible blame that might attach to her under those misfortunes
which, to speak after the manner of men, she might seem not to have
_deserved_, she was always the first to justify Him who had
inflicted it. It was not that she superstitiously converted every
visitation into a _punishment_; she entertained more correct ideas
of that God who overrules all events. She knew that some calamities
were sent to exercise her faith, others to purify her heart; some to
chastise her rebellious will, and all to remind her that this "was
not her rest;" that this world was not the scene for the full and
final display of retributive justice. The honor of God was dearer to
her than her own credit, and her chief desire was to turn all events
to his glory.

Though Mrs. Simpson was the daughter of a clergyman, and the widow
of a genteel tradesman, she had been reduced by a succession of
misfortunes, to accept of a room in an almshouse. Instead of
repining at the change; instead of dwelling on her former gentility,
and saying, "how handsomely she had lived once; and how hard it was
to be reduced; and she little thought ever to end her days in an
alms-house"--which is the common language of those who were never so
well off before--she was thankful that such an asylum was