'Nay,' says I, 'but that may be worse, for you must have those provisions of somebody or other; and since all this part of the town is so infected, it is dangerous so much as to speak with anybody; for this village,' said I, 'is, as it were, the beginning of London, though it be at some distance from it.'

'That is true,' added he; 'but you do not understand me right. I do not buy provisions for them here; I row up to Greenwich, and buy fresh meat there; and sometimes I row down the river to Woolwich, and buy there; then I go to single farmhouses on the Kentish side, where I am known, and buy fowls, and eggs, and butter, and bring to the ships, as they direct me, sometimes one, sometimes the other. I seldom come on shore here, and I came only now to call my wife and hear how my family do, and give them a little money which I received last night.'

'Poor man!' said I; ‘and how much hast thou gotten for them?'

'I have gotten four shillings,' said he, 'which is a great sum, as things go now with poor men; but they have given me a bag of bread too, and a salt fish, and some flesh: so all helps out.'

'Well,' said I, ' and have you given it them yet?' 'No,' said he, 'but I have called, and my wife has answered that she cannot come out yet, but in half an hour she hopes to come, and I am waiting for her. Poor woman!' says he, 'she is brought sadly down; she has had a swelling, and it is broke, and I hope she will recover; but I fear the child will die; but it is the Lord!' Here he stopped, and wept very much.

'Well, honest friend,' said I, 'thou hast a sure comforter if thou hast brought thyself to be resigned

to the will of God. He is dealing with us all in judgment.'

'Oh, sir,' says he, 'it is infinite mercy if any of us are spared, and who am I to repine?

'Say'st thou so,' said I; 'and how much less is my faith than thine!'

At length, after some further talk, the poor woman opened the door, and called, 'Robert! Robert!'

He answered, and bid her stay a few moments and he would come. So he ran down the common stairs to his boat, and fetched up a sack, in which were the provisions he had brought from the ships. And when he returned, he hallooed again; then he went to the great stone which he showed me, and emptied the sack, and laid all out, everything by themselves, and then retired; and his wife came with a little boy to fetch them away; and he called, and said such a captain had sent such a thing, and such a captain such a thing, and at the end added, 'God has sent it all, give thanks to Him!'

When the poor woman had taken up all, she was so weak she could not carry it at once in, though the weight was not much; so she left the biscuits, which were in a little bag, and left a little boy to watch it till she came again.

Well, but,' says I to him, 'did you leave her the four shillings too, which you said was your week's pay?'

'Yes, yes,' says he; 'you shall hear her own it.' So he calls again, Rachel! Rachel!'-which it seems was her name 'did you take up the money?"

'Yes,' said she.

'How much was it?' said he.

'Four shillings and a groat,' said she.

'Well, well,' says he, the Lord keep you all!' and so he turned to go away.

As I could not refrain contributing tears to this man's story, so neither could I refrain my charity for his assistance, so I called him. 'Hark thee, friend,' said I; 'come hither, for I believe thou art in health, that I may venture thee.' So I pulled out my hand which was in my pocket before. 'Here,' says I, 'go and call thy Rachel once more, and give her a little more comfort from me. will never forsake a family that trust in Him as thou dost.' So I gave him four other shillings, and bid him go lay them on the stone, and call his wife.

God

I have not words to express the poor man's thankfulness, neither could he express it himself but by tears running down his face. He called his wife, and told her God had moved the heart of a stranger, upon hearing their condition, to give them all that money; and a good deal more, such as that, he said to her. The woman, too, made signs of the like thankfulness, as well to Heaven as to me, and joyfully picked it up; and I parted with no money all that year that I thought better bestowed.

LESSON 18.

STORIES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY.

VI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE.

This was the name given by the Scotch people to Prince Charles Edward, grandson of James II.; but the English called him the Young Pretender, to distinguish him from his father, whom they designated the Pretender. He was a tall, handsome youth, of an enduring and brave spirit; but his education had been much neglected. Notwithstanding his father's defeats, he determined to make an attempt to gain the English crown. Assisted by the King of France, he made for the south coast; but a storm drove back most of the ships, and the English fleet chased away the rest, so what was called the Dunkirk Expedition' was a complete failure.

The French king then gave up the cause of Charles Edward, and tried to persuade him to go back to Rome, where his family was in exile. But nothing could induce him to abandon his attempt on the crown of England, and no one could persuade him that he would be beaten. He thought Scotland would be the best place to commence

operations. Borrowing some money, and selling his jewels, he raised enough to purchase and fit out a little ship. With only seven followers he landed in Inverness-shire.

In about a month's time he had raised a considerable army of Highlanders. The English sent Sir John Cope to oppose him, and offered thirty thousand pounds for the Young Pretender's head. The first engagement was decidedly in favour of Charles Edward, who then invaded England, and reached as far south as Derby. Discontent breaking out among his troops, coupled with the indifference of the English people to his cause, led him to retreat to Glasgow.

Another army from England, under the Duke of Cumberland, was sent in pursuit of him. The two forces met at Culloden Moor, where the Highland forces under Charles were utterly defeated, April 16, 1746.

In connection with his own escape there is a story of womanly devotion and courage which were worthy of a better cause.

After the disaster at Culloden, Charles aimed at making his escape to France. Through many dangers he made his way to Long Island, where he remained for nearly a month. His position was perilous, for information of his hiding was given to the royal troops. A guard was set at every outlet, and more than a thousand soldiers ranged the island through in search of him, so that his escape seemed impossible. Although hundreds of the poor Highlanders knew of his retreat, not one would betray him, tempting as the reward was.

From this terrible situation he was at last delivered by the tact and heroism of a young lady, named Flora Macdonald. She proposed to conduct