rated to his lordship
that ten pounds would make his fortune; because with ten pounds he could
set up a shop, instead of working out of the world's sight in a room.

Lord Ipsden gave him ten pounds!

A week after, he met Harvey, more ragged and dirty than before.

Harvey had been robbed by a friend whom he had assisted. Poor Harvey!
Lord Ipsden gave him ten pounds more!

Next week, Saunders, entering Harvey's house, found him in bed at noon,
because he had no clothes to wear.

Saunders suggested that it would be better to give his wife the next
money, with strict orders to apply it usefully.

This was done!

The next day, Harvey, finding his clothes upon a chair, his tools
redeemed from pawn, and a beefsteak ready for his dinner, accused his
wife of having money, and meanly refusing him the benefit of it. She
acknowledged she had a little, and appealed to the improved state of
things as a proof that she knew better than he the use of money. He
demanded the said money. She refused--he leathered her--she put him in
prison.

This was the best place for him. The man was a drunkard, and all the
riches of Egypt would never have made him better off.

And here, gentlemen of the lower classes, a word with you. How can
you, with your small incomes, hope to be well off, if you are more
extravagant than those who have large ones?

"Us extravagant?" you reply.

Yes! your income is ten shillings a week; out of that you spend three
shillings in drink; ay! you, the sober ones. You can't afford it, my
boys. Find me a man whose income is a thousand a year; well, if he
imitates you, and spends three hundred upon sensuality, I bet you the
odd seven hundred he does not make both ends meet; the proportion is too
great. And _two-thirds of the distress of the lower orders is owing to
this--that they are more madly prodigal than the rich; in the worst,
lowest and most dangerous item of all human prodigality!_

Lord Ipsden went to see Mrs. Harvey; it cost him much to go; she lived
in the Old Town, and he hated disagreeable smells; he also knew from
Saunders that she had two black eyes, and he hated women with black eyes
of that sort. But this good creature did go; did relieve Mrs. Harvey;
and, bare-headed, suffered himself to be bedewed ten minutes by her
tearful twaddle.

For once Virtue was rewarded. Returning over the North Bridge, he met
somebody whom but for his charity he would not have met.

He came in one bright moment