ith the utmost indifference saw her perish for want.
The measure of his crimes, however, was now nearly filled. His wealth
was soon exhausted in debaucheries and other excesses, and he had
neither the inclination nor ability to return to trade. Misery soon
overtook him, and brought him to that state in which you now see him. He
begs his bread from door to door, an object of contempt and detestation
to all honest people, and a just example of the indignation of the
Almighty."

Albert told his father, that if fortune made men so wicked and
miserable, he wished to remain as he was, above pity, and secure from
contempt.

"Think often, my dear child," said his father to him, "of this story,
and learn from this example, that no true happiness can be enjoyed,
unless we feel for the misfortunes of others. It is the rich man's duty
to relieve the distresses of the poor; and in this more solid pleasure
is found, than can be expected from the enervating excesses of luxury
and pomp."

The sun was now sinking beneath the horizon, and his parting beams
reflected a lovely glow upon the clouds, which seemed to form a purple
curtain round his bed. The air, freshened by the approach of evening,
breathed an agreeable calm; and the feathered inhabitants of the grove
sung their farewell song. The wind rustling among the trees, added a
gentle murmur to the concert, and every thing seemed to inspire joy and
happiness, while Albert and his father returned to their house with
thoughtful and pensive steps.

[Illustration]

WILLIAM AND AMELIA.

[Illustration]

In a pleasant village, at some distance from the metropolis, lived Lord
and Lady Russel, who had brought up an orphan, named William, from his
infancy; and had a stranger to the family seen in what a tender manner
he was treated, he would have supposed him to be their son. This amiable
couple had only one child living, a daughter, named Amelia, who was
nearly of the same age with William, and the lady was pleased to see
that the two children had something beyond a common attachment for each
other.

William and Amelia were one fine summer morning sauntering in the
orchard with their little friend Charlotte, whose parents lived in the
neighbourhood. Of the little misses, Amelia was the youngest, and not
quite eight years of age. They were walking arm and arm, and humming
over a pretty song, then fashionable in the village collection of
Ballads. At the same time William was