poverty. They will build a monastery that will be less magnificent; this work will afford subsistence to many labourers and poor artists; and they themselves, being obliged as in their first state to cultivate the earth, will become possessed of more humility and goodness." "You force my approbation of your conduct," answered the hermit; "but why did you destroy that innocent child, who seemed so eager to render us a service? Why deprive of its only comfort the old age of that respectable man, whose benevolence we experienced?" "That old man, by whom we were received, only because I took the shape of one whom he knew, had for thirty years been employed in acts of charity. Never did the poor present themselves in vain at his door; he even stinted himself to supply them. But since he has had a son, and particularly since that son has begun to grow up, his blind fondness urging him to amass a large patrimony for the youth to inherit, he has become austere and avaricious. Day and night his thoughts have incessantly been engaged on profit, and soon he would have laid aside all sense of shame and turned usurer. The child, dying in innocence, has been received in heaven; the father, having no longer any motive for avarice, will recur to his old praiseworthy maxims: both will be saved; and without what you call an atrocious crime, both of them had perished. Such are the secret designs of God, since you wish to know them. But re member that you called them in question; repair to your cell and repent. For my part, I must return to heaven." In saying these words the angel threw off his earthly disguise, and disappeared. The hermit, prostrating his face upon the earth, thanked the Almighty for his paternal reprimand. He then returned to his hermitage, where he passed the remainder of his days in so much sanctity, that he merited not only forgiveness of his error, but also the recompense promised to a virtuous life.* * This story has been adopted by Voltaire, and is given at full length in his moral romance of Zadig, or the Book of Fate. THE TWO TRADERS AND THE CLOWN. TWO traders were proceeding on a pilgrimage. A countryman who was prosecuting the same journey having joined them on the road, they agreed to travel together, and to make a joint stock of their provisions. But when arrived within a day's journey of the holy place, it was almost wholly expended, so that they had nothing left but a little flour, barely sufficient to make a small cake. The perfidious traders entered into a plot together to cheat their companion of his share, and from his stupid air imagined they could dupe him without difficulty. "We must come to some agreement," said one of the citizens. "What will not assuage the hunger of three may satisfy a single person, and I vote that it be allotted to one of us only. But that each may have a fair chance, I propose that we all three lie down and fall asleep, and that the bread may be the lot of him who on awakening shall have had the most curious dream. The other citizen, as we may readily suppose, approved vastly this suggestion. The countryman also signified his approbation, and pretended to give completely into the snare. They then made the bread, put it on the fire to bake, and lay down. But our traders were so much fatigued with their journey that, without intending it, they fell soon into a profound slumber. The clown, more cunning, waited only this opportunity, got up without noise, went and ate the bread, and then composed himself to rest. Soon after one of the citizens awaked, and calling to his companions, "Friends," said he, "listen to my dream. I thought myself transported by two angels into hell. For a long time they kept me suspended over the abyss of everlasting fire. There I was witness to the torments of the damned.” "And I," said the other, “dreamed that the gates of heaven were opened to me. The archangels, Michael and Gabriel, after raising me up into the sky, carried me before the throne of God. There was I a spectator of his glory." And then the dreamer began to recount the wonders of Paradise, as the other had of the infernal abode. The countryman, meanwhile, though he heard perfectly well what they said, pretended to be asleep. They went to rouse him from his slumber, when he, affecting the surprise of a man suddenly disturbed from rest, cried out, "What is the matter?" "Why it is only your fellow-travellers. What! do you not recollect us? Come, arise and inform us of your drean." "My dream? Oh! I |