they were, not only maintained me as a child of their own, but did all in their power to procure me advantages more suited to my birth, than my deserted situation. With the assistance of the worthy clergyman of the parish, they put me to a day-school in the village, clothed me decently, and being themselves sober religious persons, took care to keep me from vice. The obligations I am under to them will, I hope, never be effaced from my memory, and it is on their account alone that I have undertaken this journey.

Beaum. How long did you continue with them?

Harf. Till I was thirteen. I then felt an irresistible desire to fight for my country; and learning by accident that a distant relation of our family was a captain of a man of war, I took leave of my worthy benefactors, and set off to the sea-port where he lay, the good

people furnishing me in the best manner they were able with necessaries for the journey. I shall never forget the tenderness with which they parted with me. It was, if possible, beyond that of the kindest parents. You know my subsequent adventures, from the time of my becoming a midshipman, to my present state of first lieutenant of the Britannia. Though it is now fifteen years since my: departure, I feel my affection for these good folks stronger than ever, and could not be easy without taking the first opportunity of seeing them.

Beaum. It is a great chance if they are both living.

Harf. I happened to hear by a young man of the village, not long since, that they were; but I believe much reduced in their circumstances.

Beaum. Whereabouts did they live?, Harf. Just at the turning of this cor: ner. But what's this-I can't find the

house-Yet I am sure I have not forgot the situation. Surely it must be pulled down! Oh! my dear old friends, what can have become of you?

Beaum. You had best ask that little girl.

Harf. Hark ye, my dear! do you know one John Beech, of this place? Girl. What old John Beech? O yes, very well, and Mary Beech! too. Harf. Where do they live?

Girl. A little further on in the lane. Harf. Did they not once live hereabouts?

Girl. Yes, till farmer Tything pulled the house down to make his hopgarden.

Harf. Come with me to show me the place, and I'll give you a penny.

Girl. Yes, that I will. (They walk on.) There-that low thatched houseand there's Mary spinning at the door. Harf. There, my dear (gives money,

How my

and the girl goes away). heart beats! Surely that cannot be my nurse! Yes, I recollect her now; but how very old and sickly she looks! Beaum. Fifteen years in her life, with care and hardship, must go a great way in breaking her down.

Harf (going to the cottage door). Good morning, good woman; can you give my companion and me something to drink? We are very thirsty with walking this hot day.

Mary Beech. I have nothing better than water, Sir; but if you please to accept of that, I will bring you some, Beaum. Thank you-we will trouble you for some.

Mary. Will you please to walk in out of the sun, gentlemen; ours is a very poor house indeed; but I will find you a seat to sit down on, while I draw the water.

Harf. (to Beaumont.) The same good creature as ever! let us go in.

Seene II.-The Inside of the Cottage. An old Man sitting by the Hearth.

Beaum. We have made bold, friend, to trouble your wife for a little water. John Beech. Sit down- sit downgentlemen. I would get up to give you my chair, but I have the misfortune to be lame, and am almost blind too.

Harf. Lame and blind! Oh Beaumont! (aside.)

John. Ay, Sir, old age will come on; and, God knows, we have very little means to fence against it.

Beaum. What, have you nothing but your labour to subsist on?

John. We made that do, Sir, as long as we could; but now I am hardly capable of doing any thing, and my poor