SSKS-i 3?v; Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive in 2010 witli funding from Duke University Libraries littp://www.arcliive.org/details/mariabartlettoraOOsaun /vas that of the law, he deemed it necessary to live near the pre- cincts of a town. In erecting- this house, both ends were obtained ; and in his morning- rides to the town of ■ (where he had his office) he gratified his eye, and feasted his ima- gination, with those magnificent scenes of nature, that were so calculated to afford a re- past of rich delight to a soul formed for their enjoyment. Mrs. Bartlett was a woman possessed of a su- perior understanding; which, from having been highly cultivated, Mas a source of much pleasure to her worthy partner. A pattern of humility, gentleness, and religion, she blended in her character all the qualities requisite for consti- tuting the intelligent companion, the amiable female, and the pious Christian. Three daugh- ters and two sons composed the family circle. Blessed with a moderate competency, and reci- procal affection, they stood in need of nothing to render their fire-side comfortable. When I was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Bart- lett, which is now several years since, their eldest (laughter, Maria, had just completed her fourteenth year. She was a genteel-looking- girl, and upon a very slight acquaintance, ap- b2 8 peared agreeable ; but when more intimately known, you were disappointed in finding her very ignorant and conceited, sadly deficient in many qualities that are essential to the character of a gentlewoman, and betraying an indolence of mind and behaviour highly reprehensible. These defects arose from her having lived two years with an aunt, who was not sensible of the necessity of good instructions. Mrs. Selvyn, her aunt, had met with many vicissitudes of fortune : had lost her husband by a sudden stroke of apoplexy, and w ith a very slender income was left to provide for two chil- dren. About four years after her husband's decease, her eldest child was carried away by the rapid advances of a consumption ; and a short time afterwards, the other fell a victim to the typhus fever. Finding solitude exceedingly irksome, she wrote to her sister, Mrs Bartlett, apprizing her of the continued depression of her spirits, and requesting the company of Maria for a few months. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett could not deny a request in every respect so reasonable, and after having received repeated assmances of proper 9 attention being paid to their little girl's education, they consented to part with her. It was a great trial for Mai'ia to leave her papa and mamma ; but as they had always taught her to obey them with cheerfulness, she endeavoured to refrain her tears; and set out from Chesnut Grove in as good spirits as she could com- mand. During her journey she thought a great deal of home, and felt very sorry to leave it, but as she knew her papa and mamma required her to do nothing more than her duty demanded, she endeavoured to overcome the trouble she felt. Her aunt welcomed her to Dalton Cottage with tears of joy ; and in the course of a day or two, she became quite reconciled to the change. Her time was passed in a very different man- ner to what it had been at Chesnut Grove. 3Irs» Selvyn indulged her to an excess, and sutfered her to follow her own inclination in almost every thing. Mrs. Selvyn, it is true, had promised Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett that she would pay every possible b;3 w attention to tbe instructions of their daughter; and she conceived that she was fulfilling- her promise, by engaging' a multiplicity of masters to teach her the usual accomplishments. By degrees, Mrs. Selvyn overcame the poig- nancy of her afflictions ; and being of a very cheerful disposition, she again entered society with her accustomed spirits, and engaged in its pleasures with all that avidity for which she had formerly beon characterized. Her finances were small, but she felt no scruple in expending a little beyond them. She furnished her house with a degree of elegance ; and as she displayed much suavity of manner, and vivacity of temper, her little evening fetes were generally well attended. Entangled with a circle of fashionables, her highest happiness consisted in visiting. Maria had been nearly twelve months with her aunt, when her mamma sent for her home. Mrs. Selvyn, however, could not be prevailed upon to part with her. She so earnestly solicited the prolongation of her visit, and represented her rapid improvements in such glowing colours, that at length Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett consented to hev remaining anotlior year. 11 Poor Mrs. Selvyn believed that lier niece was enjoying' all the benefits of good instructions, while in truth the child was learning nothing solid, or useful. The fact was, Mrs. Selvynwas not a well-educated woman ; 1 admit that she could play, and paint, and dance, and speak French, even better than some ladies who fancy themselves proficients in these things ; nay, more than this, she could dress herself with all the refinements of taste at a very small expense. She could work handkerchiefs, point rufiies, and invent head-dresses : her boudoir was decorated by her pieces of embroidery, and her paintings made a splendid appearance in her drawing- room. In company, her manner was elegant. She talked fluently on the common chit-chat subjects of the day ; she understood and prac- tised all the rules of etiquette and fashionable politeness ; and yet, my young friends, I repeat, she was not a well-educated woman. " Indeed !" some of you reply, "then pray what do you call education?" 1 am not surprised at the question, because I believe that many of you are following a course precisely similar to hers; but in order to answer it, 1 will continue my narrative. To this catalogue of acquirements the lady 12 added nothing. The noble faculties of her raind were left uncultivated : her heart — that source from whence all our error — all our inquietudes proceed — was neg-lected ; she had never been taught to observe the command of her Maker, viz. Keep thy heart with all diligence. On the contrary, hers was the seat of trifling silly thoughts, of idle imaginations, which she used no diligence to drive away. Neither had she learntto govern the sallies of a passionate temper, nor watch against the risings of pride — no; her time and attention had been w holly lavished on the attainment of those accomplishments that sometimes attract admiration, yet oftener excite envy. ' Had Mrs. Bartlett known her sister's reat character, she would not have intrusted her child to her care ; but the two sisters had passed so small a part of their lives together, that they were almost ignorant of each other's real dispo- sition. Mrs. Selvyn was several years older than Mrs. Bartlett, and had married before the younger sister had left school. Since that period, no frequent interchange of visits had taken place between them, inconsequence of the professions 13 of their husbands, and the distance that inter- vened. The total dilSerence of sentiment, habits, and disposition of these two ladies, afford a striking instance of the eftects of a good, and of a bad education. Mrs. Selvyn at an early age had been sent to a very fashionable school, where she made a rapid progress in all the arts and accomplish- ments which it professed to teach. Unhappily, this school was conducted on a very bad plan ; its grand object was display. The young- lady who looked best, and danced best, was the object of envy among all her school-fellows, and of partiality among the teachers. In this seminary, useful knowledge was glanced at, but not learnt ; and all those pursuits that tend to make the life useful, and the heart happy, were discarded on the plea, " want of time." — Alas ! in what manner was that rescued time em- ployed ? — in working flounces, in braiding and curling the hair, in nourishing the seeds of vanity, -and in cultivating the plant of self-love by mutual flattery and mutual deceit. 14 Very different was the manner in which Mrs. Bartlett had been brought up: she had been placed under the care of a good and sensible woman, who did not merely gratify and direct the taste of her pupils in the pursuit of elegant acquirements, but at the same time taught them to esteem these things of secondary importance. She encouraged them in learning every accom- plishment suitable to their station in society, but led them to regard them as the amusements, not as the business of their lives ; to pursue them as recreation, and yet to aim at perfection in them, "because," she would say, "nothing is worth the doing, unless it be done well." But while she gratified these inclinations in her pupils, she directed their chief attention to that solid and profitable knowledge that enriched their understandings, and rendered them useful as well as shining members of society. More- over, she led them to reflect that they were IMMORTAL, as well as rational creatures, and that in every thing they learned, as well as in every thing they did, they should keep in view the life to come. She used often to say to them, " in all your thoughts, words, and works, remember this end : eternal happiness." Under such an instructress, it is not surprizing 15 that Mrs. Bartlett grew up an ornament to soci- ety, and a blessing to her family, because in the ordinary course of events, we generally find, that the Almighty condescends to bless and nourish the seeds of good instructions ; and that, some time or other, the fruits will appear. 16 CHAPTER II. Maria Bartlett adhered to nearly the same plan of study as her aunt had done, but with this difference: Mrs. Selvyn, naturally active, was determined to excel in every thing- she undertook. Maria, constitutionally indolent, sel- dom took any pains with the tasks assigned her. She possessed a good understanding, but wanted application to improve it ; she learned with faci- lity, but soon forgot what she had been learning. In her fits of industry, she was capable of com- mitting large portions of a book to memory, but the subjects were generally injudiciously chosen. She repeated long pieces of poetry with correct- ness and taste, but was nearly ignorant of her geography and grammar; she could read an affecting tale with much pathos, but scarcely ever felt an inclination to look into a book of ancient or modern history. Before Mrs. Selvyn commenced jier morning visits, she used to hear Maria read ; but as the book \vas very frequently of tlie child's own 17 selecting- it was seldom very profitable. The remainder of the morning was parcelled out into preparations for her music, her drawing, her French, her Italian, and her dancing masters; but if Mrs, Selvyn had lost a favourite bird, or if a primrose blossomed a little earlier than usual, these preparations were neglected, that she might indulge her propensity for writing what she termed poetry. These foolish productions were shewn to all the visitors, who loaded the poor child with unmerited commendations, to such a degree, that her little heart became the asylum of vanity and self-conceit. Mrs. Selvyn encouraged this weakness, by adding her own unbounded praises to those of her guests, and at length ^laria was considered, both by herself and her aunt, as a girl of great talent, and of remarkable mental abilities. The needle, the slate, and the copy- book, made only their occasional appearance in her morning avocations; as her aunt observed that arithmetic was too dry a study, and plain work too stupid an employment, for a girl possessed of genius. INIrs. Selvyn was a great reader of novels, but she withheld them from Maria, yet not without a promise of giving her a full enjoyment of them when she should be arrived at years of discretion. c 18 xuaria, observing the pleasure her aunt ap- j.earetl to derive from books of this kind, ima- gined that they must be very interesting; and when left by herself, she would sometimes peep into the drawer of the work-table, to see if one had been deposited there. Her search was too often successful, and when once she had tasted the fatal poison, she could not resist the desire ; she sipped a little, and withdrew, but returned again, and a^- )in, until she had finished the last drop of the deadly draught: her taste became vitiated, and her good principles shaken ; her mind overflowed with the nonsense she had been gleaning" from these unprofitable compositions; and her fondness for writing- verse increased in equal proportion. In short, she was in danger of beroniing a very roniautic silly girl, had not her career of a])surdity been suddenly stopped, by her father and mother's once more sending for her honu'. ]\lvs. Solvyn offered to accompany her niece, and ill a few days after the receipt of the letter they commenced their journey. Affer an absence of nearly two years, Maria appro?iched the precincts of Cliesnut Grove, with sciisTfioii^ prct'.liav to fhose only who hove been 19 separated for so long a time from their beloved relations. She possessed an aftectionate heart, and it now palpitated Avith anxiety to see those she loved. As she rode through the avenue, every fresh object recalled some pleasing circum- stance of former times to her recollection — here was a bank on which she and her sister had once planted some roots of blue periwinkle — there was a path which led to a little grotto, reared by the hand of her father. Although the month was November, the ground covered with dead leaves, and a thick fog inwrapt every object in its damp mantle, yet to Maria the grove never appeared half so delightful. The nuisic of its native warblers had never sounded so sweet to her ear, as did now the grating hinges of the opening gate. Never had she gazed upon the dark green foliage with such pleasure, as she now beheld each well-known leafless shrub. At length a glimpse of the parental mansion was obtained for an instant ; again it was con- cealed by the trees ; the next moment, a sudden turn of the road brought them in front of its door ; and the next, Maria was clasped in transport to the beating hearts of her expecting parents. The sisters, eager to oblige, hastened to assist c2 20 in taking off her damp attire, while Mrs. Bart- lett performed tlie same kind office for Mrs, Sel- vyn. Scarcely were they returned to the parlour, when the door burst open, and two joyful boys rushed forward to share the embraces of their sister. They loaded her with caresses, but were unable to utter one word of congratulation. This paroxysm of deep, yet silent feeling, might have long continued, had it not been interrupted by the entrance of the servant, with the tea-things. The sofa was wheeled to the fire, and Maria once more took her seat between her affectionate parents. On this happy evening- the nursery was desert- ed; Mrs. Bartlett departed from her general rule, and permitted her two youngest children to take their tea in the parlour. " You are too old to play with us now, are you not, sister Maria?" asked the little rosy-faced Louisa, as she sipped her tea from a gold-edged cup and saucer, (for their little blue mugs, and every appendage to the nursery were discarded.) "Maria, will never be too old to contribute to your amusement, Louisa," said Mrs. Bartlett; 21 " but she will not have so much time for recre- ation now as she used to have, because you know her occupations will be of more importance ; a larg-er portion of her time will be required in the improvement of her mind, but when the hours of study and work are expired, a game of play with you will afford her as much enjoyment now as it formerly did; because I am sure she will always find a pleasure in making' you happy." " How much older are you than Emma ?" said Augustus, addressing his elder sister. " I was fourteen last September, brother," replied Maria; "and I," said Emma, '"shall be thirteen next April." "The diflference then, does not much exceed a year," observed Mrs. Selvyn ; " I al- most forget your age, Augustus," she continued, looking earnestly at him as she spoke. " I shall be twelve ma'am, on Monday next, and Edwin will be ten on the following Saturday." *' Yes, we shall have two holidays, in one Meek," said Louisa, in an animated tone — " how delightful ! I wish my birth day m as next week also." " When is your birth day, my love?" enquired Mrs. Selvyn. "In August, ma'am." "And then," rejoined Mr. liartlett, "ourlrtflo Louisa "'H be seven years of ;ige." 22 The children now gave Maria an account of the manner in which they had passed several of their birth days, during the time of their sepa- ration; and Maria had begun to describe how she bad spent her last, when Betty appeared at the door, to enquire if Miss Louisa was ready for her attendance. The conversation being thus unseasonably in- terrupted, Emina entreated her sister to postpone her account until the morrow, that Louisa might hear the conclusion. Mrs. Bartlett observed, that it was time for Edwin to retire also. When Edwin and Louisa had left the room, Augustus invited his sister, Maria, to accompany him to the library ; saying, he had several new things to shew her, especially a pair of handsome globes, that had been presented to him by his grandpapa. Emma went with them. When Maria's cariosity was satisfied, Augustus opened the glass door which led into the garden, and observing that the rain had ceased, and that the evening appeared very fine, he asked them how they should like a walk by moonlighl. OS " I want to shew you a famous swing," said he, " tha t Edwin and I put up this morning in the old barn behind the laurel walk. Come, sister Maria, accept my arm ; Emma, you take the other, and let us go in grand procession." "Not to night, I thank you," said Emma, withdrawing her hand, which Augustus had jestingly taken through his arm. "I think we had better defer such an expedition until the morning," added Maria. Augustus smilingly observed, "^that he always wished to pay a due deference to the opinions of his elders:" and without one word of chagrin at this little disappointment, he conducted the young ladies to-the parlour fire. Mrs. Bartlett laid down her work as they en- tered ; and their papa, closing the book he had been reading, held out a hand to each beloved daughter, and drawing them to him gave them the kiss of paternal affection; while Augustus, seating himself near his mother and aunt, joined in their conversation, with a diffidence of manner particularly pleasing, and so opposite to that ar- rogant forwardness which is visible in some young 24 gentlemen of his age, but which is the charac- teristic of a rain and shallow understanding. The conversation, good humoured, intelligent, and animating, was at length broken up ; as the fatigue of the journey rendered it necessary for Maria and her aunt to retire to their respective apartments, somewhat earlier than usual. >o^<»< 85 CHAPTER III. The next morning Emma and Louisa arose at their usual hour ; and thinking it probable that Maria was unaccustomed to rise so early, they agreed to tap at her door in their way to the school-room. Maria, habituated to her aunt's late hours, had almost forgotten the regulations of Chesnut Grove ; she, therefore, felt rather surprised at being called so early; nevertheless, determined for once to conquer her indolent inclinations, she hastily arose, and soon joined her sisters in the school-room. She found them engaged in learning their morning tasks, but at the moment she entered, the breakfast bell summoned them to the parlour. Mr. 3art\ett, read a portion of the sacred scriptures, and engaged in prayer with his family, every night and morning. 26 At first, Mrs. Selvyn felt inclined to ridicule this practice, as inethodistical; but the impres- sive manner in which Mr. Bartlett performed the duty, made her thoughtful : she entered into the spirit of the prayer with sincerity, and afterwards told her sister that she believed she should often recall the proceedings of that morning to her recollection with feelings of peculiar pleasure. After breakfast, Mrs. Bartlett and her daugh- ters withdrew to the school-room. Augustus and Edwin spent a few hours every "morning with Mr. Cameron, a clergyman, who resided at a short distance from the Grove. This gentleman was an intimate friend of Mr. Bartlett's. As he devoted the greatest part of his mornings to the superintendence of his son's studies, he thought he should not be expending any more time if he gave Augustus and Ed^in a few lessons also. He communicated his idea to Mr. Bartlett, who accepted his proposal with the sincerest pleasure ; but both gentlemen agreed to finish the education of their sons at some respectable academy : convinced, that by such a course, they would sooner obtain a knowledge of the world, and would be enabled to enter upon it with a better preparation to undergo its vicissitudes, than if they had never quitted the paternal roof, or ex- perienced the little hardships of a school. 27 Mrs, Selvyn and Mrs. Cameron had formerly been intimately acquainted ; Mrs. Selvyn, there- fore, offered to accompany the boys in their walk, and resolved to spend the remainder of the corning- at the work-table of her old friend. w The two youngest Miss Bartletts commenced their avocations in their usual manner ; and Maria employed herself in finishing a purse that she had begun to net for her father. • When Mrs. Bartlett had completed her instruc- tions to her younger daughters, she sent them into an adjoining room, to practise a duet, that she might have an opportunity of conversing with Maria alone. She wished to ascertain the progress she had made in the cultivation of her mind, and form a plan to facilitate her further improvement. Judge, then, of the grief and sur- prise of this anxious parent, when she found her little girl totally destitute of that knowledge she deemed the most essential; but Mrs. Bartlett was not one of those fine ladies who sit and weep over misfortunes. It is true that she felt greatly distressed, but she resolved to make the best of a trouble that could not now be obviated. For sonu' luonients she was silent, considering 28 and reconsidering what plan to pursue; at length she determined to suspend Maria's studies for that day, and communicate to Mr. Bartlett the unpleasing intelligence. Mr. Bartlett entered into his wife's feelings, and partook of the disappointment in an equal degree. They both of them, however, agreed, that instead of spending the time in useless re- gret, they would do all that lay in their power to remedy the evil. They did not enter upon any plan without a proper share of deliberation ; and the result of their reflections was, that Maria's studies should at first be confined to three or four of the sim- plest nature. Mr. Bartlett had some little diffi- culty in carrying this point. *' We must take care," said he " not to over- burden our dear child's mind." "True," replied Mrs. Bartlett, "but as she will have so many things to learn, 1 think we must begin by teaching her a little of every thing: by this means her understanding will be- come gradually enlightened, and she will not be completely ignorant on any subject of which ve wish her to acquire a kuo\vlo<1g*\" 29 "By following such a plan, my love," rejoined Mr. Bartlett, " we shall be giving our child a superficial idea of every thing, while we shall not leave it in her power to gain a real knowledge of any thing." " But, at her age," resumed the too anxious mother, "there is not a sufiiciency of time for her to obtain a knowledge on one distinct branch of her studies, before she proceeds to the next." " But, according to your plan, my dear," con- tinued Mr. Bartlett, " it would be impossible for her to glean a knowledge of any subject. You must remember, the human mind is incapable of receiving a great many things at once; and the mind of 3Iaria, from its having been so long neglected, is rendered particularly incapacitated for such an exertion of its powers. 1 feel con- vinced, Caroline, that if we inflict too much on her memory, we shall defeat our own purposes, and render our poor child a superficial conceited simpleton. You say there are not years sufficient for her to cultivate a knowledge of every distinct subject. It is true, that life itself would not afford time enough to gain a complete know- ledge of any thing: progressive improvements will hp always making* in every science; but D 30 to attain that degree of knowledge requisite tor her station and her sex, I think she has / an adequate portion of" time remaining. She is only fourteen years of age, and if life and health be spared, she has yet several years that may be dt'\o«ed exclusively to improvement. You knoM,, neither of us approve of a very early introduction of young women into general soci- ety; consequently, the education of our daughters ,; will be suspended to a longer period than modern- opinions will allow." "1 begin to see my error," replied Mrs. liart- Ictt; "and since 1 must acknowledge myself a con\'ert to your opinion, will you point out the ])uti('ular studies you wish Maria immediately to coiiinieiice?" "Most willingly ; mid in the first place 1 think it necessary to premise, that it will be advisable to take a retrogade step : we must put lier back to the sludies suitable to a girl of twelve years of nge; we must consider tlie last two years as lost to the purposes of education. But (a proceed to (he diiferent branches of her instructions. "She can alreatly write a neat and legible h-.uid, but it Avil! adniit of great iniprovenjcnl ; !■ I <},ifi, :Bl then, be attended to, as it possesses of ifseff m^uy advantages, and may also help to form a habit of neatness and correctness in other things. From you, my dear, I have learned to place a jjreat value on the pleasing qualifications of neatness and order. I see them so happily introduced and so admirably carried on throughout all your pro- ceedings, that I cannot tell you how much I wish every possible assistant to be given our children for their attainment. V "In the next place, let her make a considerable progress in arithmetic ; this is a sober acquire- ment, that in after life may be of great service to her, and 7ww it Avi!l give her a habit of fixini>- her attention. >ijboitni " Let great pains be taken to make her mistress of her native language. It is a desirable thing- to be able to speak and Avrite correctly ; and I should be sorry if either of our daughters were deficient in so necessary a qualification. "From geography and history she may derive much valuable information ; they will give her an insight into the transactions and manners of men; may lead her to form some idea of the cor- ruption of human nature; and, as an amiable I) '2 32 writer somewhere observes, may turn the atten- tion to the goodness of that Providence who has presided over all events, and who has supplied each particular climate with the products most suitable to the wants of its inhabitants. "Thesefive simple studies — writing, arithmetic, grammar, geography, and history — are as many, I think, as she can properly manage at present : let these be diversified by recreations of an ani- mating kind. Music will prove a sweet refresh- ment for the mind,^ and gardening a healthy exercise for the body," "My ideas precisely accord with yours," replied Mrs. Bartlett, " but may I ask how you intend introducing fresh studies to her ?" "That is a matter of future consideration; nevertheless, if we meditate for a moment, we may in some measure anticipate the course that it will be advisable to adopt. " One study must follow another, in its proper order: for instance, when she has attained a to- lerable proficiency in writing, she may indulge her taste (if she has any) in drawing. m "'^ " ^Vhen slie is become a good accomptant, she may take a little insight into algebra. "As soon as she understands her own language, she may commence upon the French and Italian. " When she has gone through a regular course of history and geography, she may be introduced to the studies of astronomy, botany, and natural philosophy: these studies ought to lead her to contemplate, in a very high degree, the wisdom and power of her Creator. But, my beloved Caroline, let us not forget that after all, our Maria may become a proficient in tJiese things, and may yet be as sounding hrciss, or a tinhliny cymbal. While labouring to enricii iier under- standing, let us also endeavour to cultivate her temper — while bestowing opportunities for the acquisition of elegant accomplishments, let us likewise teach her those things that will adorn her character ^s a woman. Since home is, or at least ought to be, the sphere of a woman's actions, you must, my Caroline, teach her to excel in each endearing domestic duty. But, above all things, lot us offer up our united pray- ers, that the AlxMightv will infuse into her soul right principles of religion; and then, when piety becomes the chief ornament of her cba- n li 34 racter, our daughter' will indeed be m a corner- stone polished after the similitude of a palace" >♦<&« 35 CHAPTER IV. The day following this conversation, Mrs. Bart- lett commenced her instructions to Maria in the manner her husband had recommended. She pointed out to her the advantages resulting from a good education ; she made her sensible that she had hitherto learned very little, which was worth learning ; and exhorted her to apply to her different studies with unwearied dili- gence. •' The last two years, my dear," said she, " must be considered as a blank ; but remember, you have the work of four to perform in the succeed- ing two." Poor Maria felt deeply mortified ; but whilst she regretted the past, she resolved to make the most of the future. She promised to learn every thins:- that her mother wished her, and com- S6 meiiced tli^ perfurniance of her promise by un- paralleled application to the tasks before her. When the business of the morning was over, she sat down to the piano, and never did the most delightful composition afford her a gratifi- cation so sweet, as did the simple air she now chanced to take np. Her miiul, fi^tigued by un- usual exertion, was soothed and refreshed ; and as Mrs. Bartlett entered the room, she exclaimed, " Dear mamma, what a sweet recreation is music, after so many long hours of study!'* "I am very glad to hear you make such an ob- servation," replied her mother, "because it shews that you have this morning experienced the su- perior pleasure that results from amusement, when preceded by labour or study ; at such times only are amusements allowable: they then become the sweeteners of life, and if pursued with moderation, add greatly to our felicity. During the short time I can allow for your music, I wish you, Maria, to take every pains with it. When you can play with ease to yourself, you will find music a sweet embellishment to the hours of retirement, and it will be a source of much pleasure to your family ; but as you know 37 I am no advocate for a great deal of time being expended on a mere amusement, I would advise you to conquer one tune before you attempt ano- ther : you will thus be enabled to play a few with execution, which will surely be preferable to your strumming a great number indifferently." " May I ask you, mamma, what kind of style you prefer? I know masters very much differ in their opinions on this point ; some think a flou- rishing style gives the most agreeable effect, while others prefer that of the soft and gentle." "It depends entirely on the piece you are play- ing ; some airs require a degree of animation to render them pleasing, but in general I would recommend a soothing gentle style, in opposition to rant and show," " In looking over Emma's collection of music, I found very few songs. Does she not like songs, mamma V* "Not very much, 1 believe," answered Mrs. Bartlett. " I have endeavoured, my dear, to di- rect her taste to those beautiful combinations of sounds that are full of dignity, and that are ca- pable of inspiring elevated and delightful ideas. without any of that mixture of nonsense and insipiditi/ conspicuous in the generality of song-s." "But, niauima, if the words are unexception- able, you do not then disapprove them V* "If the words have any moral tendency, or if they imply some of the grand imagery of poetry, untainted with any thing light or silly, I approve of them in a very high degree." "The 'Original Poems,' mamma, are very pretty, when set to music." "By original poems, my dear, I suppose yOu mean a little work written by the authors of ♦Hymns for Infant Minds?'" " I do, mamma." "They are very pretty indeed, I have listened to Emma with peculiar emotion, when she has sang that beautiful little poem, entitled 'My Mother.' If you confine your songs to little in- nocent pieces, similar to this, they will serve to refine and harmonize your thoughts, and will excite a love of virtue, nt 'he same time tbey 39 are affording" an innocent recreation. On proper occasions, my love, I hope you will not be back- ward in supplying your papa and myself with a strain of melody, more exalted and delight- ful even than that derivable from the little pieces to which we have just alluded — I mean the diviner strains of sacred music! These will raise our souls beyond the regions of this lower world; these will fill our hearts with heavenly rapture ; and, if we join in concert, will prove a sort of foretaste to those joys reserved above, for those who delight in praising- their Maker here below." "I have heard, mamma, that s.)iue pious peo- ple object to sacred music, and that they even disapprove of singing being- introduced in con- gregational worship." " 1 have heard so, too, Maria ; but I could never see tl?e force of their obiection. In the Sacred ScRiPTUHs.s we rend, that Jesus srjug a hymn with his disciples before he went up to the Mount of Olives ; and so long as we have his example to justify a practice, you know there cannot re- main a doubt on the subject." "Thank you, mamma, for this hint ; I do not ihiiik 1 shi'.l! c\er (br.u'ct it." 40 " Let his example ever be your pattern— but to return, my dear, for a moment, to the music. I cannot help expressing my surprise that you are not capable of playing better than you do, since you have bestowed so much time on learn- ing.» " Oh ! I grevr so tired of the piano, mamma, that aunt was kind enough to let me take lessons on the harp ; but when I had taken them six months, 1 found that the harp was too difficult for me, so I gave it up, and returned to the piano ; but I had scarcely a piece that I could play, for during the six months 1 had forgotten them all." "Your aunt, my dear, indulged you a great deal too much. I am sorry you should have requested such a favour of her — it has betrayed fickleness of disposition — let me never see an in- stance of it again. By following the dictates of a roving fancy, you will lose your time, and im- prove in nothing." At this moment, a servant announced that dinner was ready. Maria, Emma, and Augustus, were permitted to partake this meal with their father and mother; 41 Jind when the cloth was removed, Mr. Bartlett generally introduced some amusing or instructive conversation, in which they were accustomed to join, when no company were present. "A large quantity of snow has fallen since the morning," observed he, " and I am glad of it, because it will be of great service to the trees and plants." "Of great service, papa?" said Emma, with a look of inquiry. "Yes, my dear; although you, perhaps, im- agine that its cold and dampness will prove inju- rious." "Yes, papa ; of what utility can it possibly be V " The observers of nature inform us, that the snow proves to be the best shelter the plants can possibly have from the cold." "This is somewhat surprising," remarked Mrs. Bartlett, "but in the operations of nature there is always something to excite our astonishment." " And to awake our gratitude," rfdded Mr. Bartlett ; " the providence of God is ever m ork- E 42 ing for our benefits. The snow, by remaining a long while on the earth, assists its fertility ; it penetrates beneath its surface, and supplies it with a proper degree of moisture." The children were silent for a few minutes, as if meditating on this last observation of their father's ; at length Augustus resumed the con- versation, by inquiring if Snowdon derived its appellation from the circumstance of snow re- maining a considerable time on its summit. " Such is the general belief," answered Mr. Bartlett, "and 1 think it has a good foundation. I once visited it in the month of August, and ob- served large (quantities of snow among its massy crags." " What time did it take you, papa, to ascend this lofty mountain?" inquired Maria. " Two hours of very severe labour were scarcely sufficient to etfect our purpose. Snowdon, you know, is the highest mountain of the three king- doms. When you have gained the summit, you stand on a precipice (not more than two yards over) three thousand five hundred and sixty- eight feet above the level of Caernarvon Quay." 43 " I hope, papa, that your toil, and the terror of being placed in such a perilous situation, were well repaid?" said Emma. " Our labour and fatioue seemed at first but very imperfectly requited. We were completely involved in clouds, and our sight could not pene- trate three yards beyond us; the cold was in- tense; and in this uncomfortable situation we were obliged to remain for the space of a quarter of an hour. At length the clouds quitted the mountain, and we were presented with one of the most beautiful spectacles the imagination can form. This was no other than a rainbow and its counter arch, a considerable way beneath us. Our guide told us that it was an uncommon sight, and that he knew persons who had been waiting for many years with the hope of seeing it, but had never been gratified, although they had visited the mountain many times with the expectation. "The prospect from the mountain is unbounded. Thecliffsof Ireland, and the little Isle of Man, are striking features. You have an extensive view over Chester, Wrexham, and Salop; in another direction, the neighbourhood round Clifton, Pembrokeshire, St. David's, and Swansea. Upon e2 44 the whole, the picture is very grand and striking, and fills themind with sensations of indescribable awe." " The mountainous scenery of Wales is in general very grand and picturesque, is it not, papa?" asked Emma. "Very much so, indeed, my dear. Among many instances of the sort, I think I shall never forget one that occurs about seven miles from Cernioge. The vale is deep and narrow, bordered on both sides by thick trees, through which the little river Glymn follows its meandering* course; clear and gentle, it winds through the valley, and then assumes a different aspect : suddenly entering a bed of disjoined crags, it boils fiercely over them, and rushes between the rocks, till it reaches a lofty arch. Under this, the foaming- waters fall into a deep rocky gully, where they are obscured by the overhanging- trees. The rocks, the cataract, and the lofty hills, together with the luxuriance of the towering- woods, pre- sent a picture that must excite rapture, even in the coldest breast." As Mr. Bartlett finished speaking, a letter was brought in, the purport of which was to invite 45 the whole family to a little concert, which a lady in the neighbourhood was going to give, in celebration of the birth day of her eldest daughter. *' Will you permit us to go, mamma ?" said Emma, rather timidly. "It will depend entirely upon yourselves, my love," replied Mrs. Bartlett; "if your conduct during the intervening time is such as will give me satisfaction, 1 shall feel great pleasure in taking you and Maria. Your brothers and Louisa are at present too young to be introduced to parties." Mrs. Selvyn, who had remained silent during the greater part of their conversation, was now very eloquent in her commendations on these little assemblies. She said, her sister's conduct was most absurd in not permitting her three youngest children to partake of a pleasure so in- nocent. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett, who always acted from principle, endeavoured to change the conversation, until they should have an op- portunity of communicating their sentiments to her, in the absence of the children. ii3 46 CHAPTER V. The two following days, Maria and Emma exerted all their efforts to give their mother satisfaction. The business of the morning was performed with diligence ; and the amusements of the evening were not clouded by any little fit of ill-humour, or self-will. At length the wished-for day arrived : the slates, the books, the work, were hastily put in their places, that the young- ladies might have time enough to get ready, and not keep their papa and mamma waiting. Emma was soon dressed, but poor Maria had scarcely a thing to put on : her Italian crape frock had been torn ; she declared that she had never had an opportu- nity of mending it. One of her kid gloves was mislaid ; and her coral necklace was unstrung. Mrs. Bartlt'tt never allowed her children a super- fluity of ornaments; consequently, Maria had now no re.?o(nce, but to repair those she had in 47 the best manner she was able. Emma, accus- tomed to keep all her things in admirable order, was never put to any of these inconveniences. She truly sympathized with Maria, and did all in her power to rescue her out of her difficulties. She fresh-strung- the beads, while Maria hastily darned the frock; but alas! all their united efforts proved of no avail — the carriage drove up to the door, but Maria was not ready. Mrs. Bartlett sent to inquire the reason, which having ascertained, she went up to her, and after seri- ously reprimanding her for her indolence and want of care, set off without her. Emma had begged so earnestly to remain at home M'ith her sister, that Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett consented ; thinking that this deprivation of a sister's pleasure, would make a more sensible and lasting impression upon her, than if she had stayed at home alone. Emma seemed to forget her om'u dissapoint- nient in concerii for her sister, and endeavoured, by every soothing and gentle attention, to restore her to Jier accustomed spirits; but poor Maria, overwhelmed with mortiiication, burst into tears, and continued inconsolable. Augustus, Edwin, and Louisa, partook of hor sorrow, and did all 48 in their power to alleviate it. The evenings however, was a very melancholy one, and each child rejoiced as the hour of retirement drew near. The next morning Mrs. Bartlett called Maria to her, and talked to her seriously on the faults she had detected in her on the preceding evening. " I very much lament, Maria," said she, " to discover in you such a total want of order. I hope the punishment inflicted on you, yesterday, will prove beneficial to you through life. Order and regularity have so many advantages, that I assure you, it is almost impossible to cultivate theni too sedulously. Indeed, order is said to be heaven's first law. To keep every thing- in its proper place, and to do every thing- in its proper time, are two rules, that 1 trust in future you will never forget. Had your frock and necklace been repaired a week ago, and had you put your gloves away carefully, you would have had the gratification of spending last evening with your old friends, the Misses Brampton; and Emma would not have been obliged to decline a pleasing- invitation, for the sake of remaining at home with you." 49 Maria was much affected by this allusion to her sister's kindness. Mrs Bartlett perceived it ; but, without making any remark, she thus pro- ceeded : — " Let all things he done decently and in order^ is an apostolic precept, the observance of which is ever accompanied by a sense of inward satis- faction and composure ; the happiness of families depends more upon the operation of this simple rule, than is readily imagined. To no purpose is a family possessed of every luxury and com- fort, if this invaluable requisite be wanting. Domestic economy cannot be carried on without it; and, if destitute of the knowledge of this important science, the abundance of riches may be frittered away in thoughtless extravagance, and followed by the bitter sting of poverty, rendered doubly severe by the unpleasant reflection, that it was occasioned by a dereliction of duty." This little exhortation made 3Iaria very thoughtful ; and as soon as her lessons were re- peated, and her exercises written, she withdrew to her own room, where she sat down for some time in silent meditation. Then, suddenly rising, she emptied her drawers and boxes of all their contents, replaced them in the neatest order, and 60 resolved to be tidy for the future, let the sacrifice cost her what it might. " To be orderly," said she, "is against my very nature; but my indolence and ease shall every day fall victims to order's shrine, until I become one of the most devoted of her followers." In the afternoon, as they sat at work, Maria conveyed her gratitude to Emma for her kindness, in a very pretty manner. Emma declined the offered thanks, by saying, that she had done nothing more than her duty; but Maria, thank- ful for such a sincere proof of her sisterly affec- tion, could not refrain from her expressions of gratitude, until Emma adroitly changed the sub- ject of their discourse. After talking about various things, Emma said, " Well, this is Saturday afternoon. Papa says, that we should consider the Saturday evening as a preparation for the Sabbath : and he often de- sires us to read or repeat to him the advice of Chief Justice Hale." "Have the goodness to repeat it now," said Maria. 51 After having given several rules of excellent advice to his children, he thus continues: — ^" I would not have you meddle with any recreations, pastimes, or ordinary works of your calling, from Saturday night, at eight o'clock, till Monday morning." *' I think he is somewhat strict in his requisi- tions," said Maria. " I suppose he sets too high a value on the Sabbath, to admit of his parting with any of it," answered Emma. " I fear," said Maria, "we passed it very unprofitably at aunt Selvyn's. In what manner do you spend it here ?" " I trust, ray dear sister, that it is the endeavour of each of us to spend it as Christians. — On the week days, papa and mamma require us to pur- sue those things that will render us useful and happy in this life. On Sundays, they assist us in promoting the improvement of our souls. On these days we have more important knowledge to seek ; we have to acquaint ourselves with God, and be at peace." "But, surely," said Maria, "this is equally our duty on the week days !" 52 "Undoubtedly it is," rejoined Emma, "but Sunday should be a day of uninterrupted devo- tion ; as on this day we have no worldly concerns to interfere with our pursuit of spiritual improve- ment. Our Gracious God has mercifully given us this day for this express purpose ; and it is our bounden duty to use, and not abuse, the holy gift. As the Israelites of old were to gather a double portion of manna on the day preceding the Sabbath, we should so arrange, as to leave for the hallowed day as little secular business as possible." At this moment Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett, accom- panied by Augustus, Edwin, and Louisa, entered the room ; and as they had a great deal to relate respecting- a visit they had been paying to some poor cottagers, the conversation of Maria and her sister was broken off. The subject, however, was not hastily dismissed from Maria's mind; she continued to meditate upon it the greatest part of the evening. Alas! she mentally exclaimed, how have I passed niy precious Sabbaths! May the Almighty enable me to spend those that may remain to his glory. The next morning she arose at her usual hour, 53 and wishing to know how Emma and Louisa Mere accustomed to employ their time on the Sunday morning, she made them a visit in their apart- ment. Little Louisa was standing near the window, with an open book in her hand. Emma was reading^ her Bible. "Are you learning any lesson, Louisa?" said Maria. " Yes, a hymn for the Sabbath morning." "And you are studying the Bible, Emma?" "■ Yes, my dear sister, I find it a good plan to read two chapters before I offer up my prayers ; papa tells me it is a good preparation lor the solemnities of the day." "May I ask what part you are reading?" "The epistle of St. James; should you like to read it with me?" Maria accepted the ofter, and placing the Sacred Volume between them, these two affec- F 54 tionate sisters read, with deep attention, and much inward pleasure, the two first chapters of that beautiful epistle. Then closing the book, Emma knelt down, and after requesting Maria to do the same, prayed to the God of all mercies. When they had risen from their knees, Emma observed that there Avould be time to read another chapter b< fore breakfast. They re-opened the sacred pa^v, and had read the third before the bell summoned them to family prayer. After breakfast, the whole family went to church. It was a beautiful morning; the sun shone particularly warm for the season of the year; the snow which had fallen a few days be- fore was now completely melted, and had made the roads exceedingly dirty; but it was quite pleasing to see how clean the little Bartletts con- trived to keep their clothes; even Louisa, with the assistance of a pair of pattens, had scarcely dirtied her shoes. When they were at church, Maria studied to maintain an undivided attention; and she re- turned home ntore edified by that single dis- course^, than bv all the sensions ^she had heard duriiisi' the hist twelve months. 55 As they walked home, tliey took care to render the conversation as profitable as they could. " Mamma has often told me," said Emma, " that we should either be silent in returning from church, or we should endeavour to assist the memories of one another, in treasuring up the sermon we have been hearing; because, if we suffer any foreign subject to take possession of our thoughts, before we review the impression that has been made upon our minds in the house of God, we are liable to forget the most valuable instructions we have received. And, as an as- sistance to our memories, she wishes us to com- mit to paper tlie principal things we can recol- lect. She has several books of her own, which she calls " Extracts from Sermons." She has headed each extract by the name of the clergy- man from whose sermon it was taken, the day of the month, and the date of the year; she then proceeds to the text and sermon. I have en- deavoured to imitate mamma's example ; and though my extracts are written in a very inferior style to hers, yet I find them very useful — I have proved, by sweet experience, that they have been blessings to my soul : by them I have been ena- bled to remember some of the valuable instruc- tions of our excellent minister, that otherwise 1 should haveforootton." f2 56 "My memory is so treacherous," said Maria, " I am fearful that an attempt of the sort would appear very ridiculous in me." " As you would write exclusively for your own benefit," replied Emma, " it would not signify what other people thought of your production, provided that it contributed to your own improve- ment ; besides, as the manuscript would certainly be of a private nature, you need not shew it to any one." "Well," said Maria, " I will write down the little I can remember — hereafter it may prove of service to me." * "At first," resumed Emma, " you Avill find the practice rather difficult, but your memory will become strengthened by the exercise. One thing, however, we must keep in mind — that of our- selves we can do nothhir/ ; we must look up Avith humble confidence to lliM who has promised us his assistance and his blessing- — M'ho bestows the influences of his Holy Spirit on them who pray for it; to hrhiff to their remembrance whatsoever he has said unto them,'' By this time they had reached the garden 57 gate, which was held open by Edwin for them to pass. AVhen they entered tlie house, tliey did not run immediately to the parlour fire, but walked quietly up stairs, to takeoff their bonnets and pelisses. When they entered the parlour, they found their papa examining- Augustus and Edwin, on the discourse thev had been hearing-. It wanted half an hour to dinner, so Emma fetched her book of extracts, and drawing a little table near the fire, commenced her Sunday's usual employ- ment. 3Iaria got a sheet of paper, and followed her example. Mrs. Bartlett heard Louisa read a chapter, and repeat the hymn she had learned in the morning — thus the half liotir was spent profitably by them all. At dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett took care that the conversation should be such as suited the day; and it was a conversation calculated to make them all happy, as well as good — cheerful, sensible, and innocent, but tempered with that sobriety that rendered it consistent with this command of the Almighty: Turn airaif thy foot from the Suhhath, from doing thy pleasure on mi/ hohf datf ; not doinrf thine own u-ai/ft, nor $penhinff thine own words. F : J .58 "Our speech," Mr. Bartlett sometimes ob- served, " is one of those distinouishinsf afifts that forms such an astonishing- difference between us and the brute creation ; and shall we not devote this noble faculty to the service of our Creator on his holy day?" Agreeably to these sentiments, Mr. Bartlett accustomed himself to converse on a Sunday; more particularly on the goodness, the mercy, and the providence of God — on the character and example of the Blessrt> Redekmf.r — on tiie divine precepts and precious promises of the Bible — on the glorious blessings of redemption and g'race — and on all those delightful subjects that afford the sincerest pleasure to a heart pro- perly regulated ; to a heart that has its i\iaker for its sovereign, and his glory for the spring and end of ai! its impulses. For some time past, Augustus and Emma had endeavoured to make themselves useful in a neig-hbouring Sunday school. On this day Maria, at her on n request, Avas introduced to the ladies who atteuf'td tlere. She did not go with the view of instMictingthe children, hut of becoming- acquainted A\ith the plan tlie school adopted; as she very justly conceived, tliat next to tlie 59 preparation of her own mind, a knowledge of the rules would be one of the best qualifications she conid possibly have for becoming- an instruc- tress. Emma and the other ladies were very pressing in their solicitations for her to commence teaching- that afternoon ; but she had now began to entertain a very humble opinion of herself: she doubted her competency for the task, and therefore continued firm in her refusal. Feelinji' assured that such an undertaking- ouoht not to be entered upon without deliberation, she re- solved to make it a subject of serious thought. When they got home, they found their papa and mamma, witii the rest of the little family, returned from cliurch. Edwin and Louisa drew their chairs a little backwards, to make room for tliem at the fire; and an edifying- and delightfid conversation engaged the time, till after tea. AVhen they had repeated their hymns and cate- chisms, (which they did every Sunday evening,) (hey each selected a text from the Bible^ and wrote it neatly in a little book : these texts they arranged under distinct heads, according- to their subject"; so they had a little collection of rules and doctrines on each parri-. ulnr duty, to which they might refer when they pleased. 60 As Maria, Emma, and Auoustiis, had not had the benefit of the afterneon sermon, Mr, Bartlett indulg-ed them by reading- one of the Rev. J. Thornton's "Addresses to Young People." Thus passed the sacred day; to them a day of profit and of peace. Reader, do you spend yovr Sabbaths in a manner as profitable? The question is a plain one; dismiss it not, until your conscience has answered it with sincerity. Remember, we must hereafter give an account for every Sab- bath we have been permitted to enjoy; and shall the day the LORD has blessed be squan- dered away in doing- nothing'? The period is hastening- when the means of grace will not be within our reach — when we may cry unto the Lord, but he will not answer — when we may say. Oh ! that it were with me as in the times that are past, when I had an opportunity of seeking- the Lord in his sanctuary. Reader, im- prove the present season : forget not that now is the accepted time, now is the day of Salva- tion. 61 CHAPTER VI. Long before the day had began to dawn, little Louisa was impatient to get up, that she might congratulate her brother i^ugnstus on thie return of his birth day. ■( "Come, Emma," said she, " let us make haste to dress ourselves, that we may be in the school room before Augustus." "Go to sleep, my dear, it is about the middle of the night," replied Emma. "No, no, you certainly mistake, sister Emma, I have been awake a long time." " No matter, Louisa, it is not morning yet." "Emma, do you forget what day it is?" con- tinued the little prattler. "To-morrow is Augustus's birth day; but this is Sunday night,"' 62 Poor Louisa, finding she could extort nothing* more from the sleepy Emma, relinquished the attempt, and again closing her eyes, she fell into a second slumber. At an early hour all the children arose, and hastened in high spirits to the school room, where they amused themselves till breakfast time. After breakfast, Augustus withdrew with his papa to the library, and a serious examination of the last year's proceedings took place. The copy-books, ciphering-books, and exer- cises, had been previously sent for from Mr. Cameron's, and Mr. Bartlett now compared them with those of the preceding year, which had been carefully preserved for the purpose. He was much pleased by the progress his son had made, and his approving smile was the best reward Augustus could receive for his year's ap- plication. " I do not wish you, my dear boy," said Mr. Bartlett, "to do any thing that relates to your dutv, with the hope of gain. The highest re- ward you can ever receive is the approbation of your own breast, and the reflection, thai your 63 meritorious conduct has occasioned your parents one of the dearest pleasures that the heart is capable of enjoying. Believing-, then, that the testimony of your own conscience be- stows on you the first recompence, and assuring you that I deem you most justly entitled to the second, I will not offer you any little present, under the name of reward ; but as it is your birth tlay, I present you this new edition of the " History of England," and these eight volumes of " Rollin's Ancient History," as a token of my affection for you ; and as a course of reading that 1 wish you to engage in during the ensuing year. Here is also a guinea, which I add to your pocket-money, to be expended in any man- ner you please," The grateful heart of Augustus was so much affected by his father's kindness and commen- dations, that he threw his arms around his neck, and sobbed aloud. Mr. Bartlett pressed his beloved son to his bosom, and at that moment felt himself the hap- piest individual in the world. "This day," said he, ''you are twelve years of age ; Oh ! my boy, may you cause your father 64 the same thrilling transports of delight on the day you are twenty." " Dear papa, that is a long time to look for- ward." " It is so, Augustus, and I think 1 may add, the intervening time is the most important of your life. It is the time to plough up the fallow ground ; to root out the weeds of sin, and im- plant the seeds of virtue. If all this be done, we shall, on your twentieth birth day, experience a pleasure equal to the present; or, should our earthly pilgrimage be terminated, we shall en- joy the fruits of our labour in the paradise above !" Mr. Bavtiett now arose from his seat, and left Augustus to look over the books alone. After having examined the binding', and looked at the title pages, he called his brother and sisters to come and see them. "How handsomely they are bound," observed Maria. "Do let inc look at tliot pretty picture," ex- 65 claimed Louisa, " why really, I think it is Julius Caesar, crossing- the little river — it must certainly be a picture of the very circumstance that Emma read to us last week ; what was the name of the river, sister?" ..Of!} k' "The Rubicon." " O yes ! the Rubicon, so it was. Will you let me look at all the pictures, Augustus?" *' Another day I will, but now I have some- thing else to shew you." "Something else, what can it be?" said Ed- win and Louisa, at once. Augustus now produced his guinea, and re- quested their advice as to his manner of expend- ing it. " Buy some fire-works," said Edwin, " and let them off this evening." *' No, no," cried Emma, "keep it, and spend it by degrees, as you may have occasion." "Well," said Augustus, after a silence of some G 66 moments, "I think I will appropriate five shillings to the fire-works, and five shillings I willlayby, as Emma advises; the remaining eleven will purchase two pair of shoes, which I will give to poor William Jones and his sister Mary: they have no father, yon know, to work for them, and their mother is in an ill state of health. The distance is very great for them to come to the Sunday school, and the shoes they have now are so worn, (hat the stones can easily M'ork their way through them, and must sadly bruise their little feet." They unanimously agreed that his benevolent plan was a good one, and inquired when he would put it into execution. "The morning is very fine," snid he, *'if any of you will accompany me, I will walk over to the village at once ; we can order our shoemaker to measure the children, and can also get the fire-Avorks. Holidays, you know, do not occur every day; therefore, as a proof of wisdom, we will nmke the most of them when they do." "Agreed," said Edwin, and away he ran to ask his ii!ainin.')'s permission. 67 She gave her consent, and the bappy little party set oti" in high spirits. They enjoyed their walk, but returned as soon as they could, be*- cause some of their young friends were expected to dinner. Maria, Einnia, and Louisa, were just dressed, when they saw the Misses Brampton's carriage drive up the avenue. , i "The Misses Brampton will be here directly, my dears," said Mrs. Bartlett, as she entered her daughters' apartment, " and as they are your visitors, I wish yon to go down to the drawing room, and receive them yourselves; at present I shall be engaged, but will come to you as soon as I can." " But, my dear mamma, I am totally unac- quainted with the manner of receiving company," said Maria, " my aunt seldom allowed me to come in, before the dessert; consequently I had not an opportunity of seeing her receive them : and then I am so young, I do not know what I ought to say to them." "Refinement of manners, my dear, is a pleasing^ qualification," answered Mrs. Bartlett, " and it g2 68 is very discernable in our way of receiving visi- tors; but as these young ladies are old acquaint-, ances, I should be sorry if you received them with an air of formality. You will naturally feel glad to see them after so long an absence, you may therefore express that you are so, and when you have inquired after the health of their papa and mamma, the weighty affair is over." So saying, Mrs. Bartlett smiled, and departed. The young ladies then went down to the draw- ing room, and received the Misses Brampton and their other guests in a very becoming manner. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett were present at dinner ; after which, Mrs. Bartlett desired Maria to re- conduct her young friends to the drawing room, where they might amuse themselves without any interruption. Maria asked them what amusement they should prefer. Some of the party proposed a game at cross-questions. Their tea, the piano, and a pack of historical conversation cards, engaged the time till half-past eight o'clock. Augustus then exhibited his fire-works, which concluded this day of innocent hilarity. ,' 69 During the ensuing week the children paid great attention to their studies, and in every respect gave their kind parents satisfaction. Maria finished netting her papa's purse ; and Emma, in addition to her usual lessons, conquered a very difficult piece of music, which she en- tirely learned by herself, out of school hours. Saturday was Edwin's birth day, and it was ushered in with a welcome as cordial as Au- gustus's had been on the preceding Monday. The result, however, of Edwin's examination, Mas not quite so pleasing as Augustus's. The im- provements he had made during the past year were not so striking; and in perusing the journal that was always kept of the children's conduct, Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett found several faults of an important nature written against poor Edwiu. These they read to him, and after exhorting him to avoid a repetition of the crimes, they freely forgave him. This method of Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett's had al- ways a good effect upon the children: they were not apt to forget the errors that had been pointed out to them on their birth days, and their anxi- ety to prevent a recun'ence of them on the fol- « 3 70 lowing- year, often deterred them from falling into them. Edwin sincerely promised amendment, and was dismissed from the presence of his parents with many expressions of affection, and a hand- some set of new books ; half a guinea was also added to his pocket-money. In imitation of Augustus, he wished to devote a part of it to the purposes of benevolence ; and inviting- the company of his sisters to the village, he requested them to buy something useful, for him to give to some poor child of their neigh- bourhood. The sisters agreed that it would be best to buy a few yards of cotton print. "The money that Edwin has given us," said Emma, "will be enough to buy two frocks." The print was purchased, and directly they got home Emma cut out the frocks, and they be- gan to make them. This little operation devolved upon JEmma^ because Maria was incapable of performing it. She could work a flounce, but could not cut out a frock. The plan of her edu- cation had been to learn and to prefer the or- namental before the useful. 71 A little party came to dinner ; in the evening Mrs. Selvyn played some lively tunes to them on the piano, and several of the young- ladies joined in singing- some pretty airs that Mrs. Bartlett had selected for them. As Mrs. Selvyn sat at the instrument, enter- taining them all by her amazing execution and delightful manner of playing, Mr. Bartlett ob- served to his wife, " What a pleasing woman her sister might have been, had she but added the one tiling needful to all these showy accom- plishments." "Poor thing! ejaculated Mrs. Bartlett, "we must attribute her failings to the defects of her education. Since she has had the benefit of your conversation, I really believe she has began to form ditferent opinions on several subjects." " If she has so, the merit, Caroline, is wholly yours. I must disclaim it, upon the ground of having no just title to it." Mrs. Bartlett persisted in her first assertion, and the altercation did not terminate until it was interrupted by the approach of Mrs. Selvyn her- self. When she arose from the piano, the chil- 72 dren manifested a wish to amuse themselves with some curious puzzles and dissected maps, that Augustus had previously shewn them. The remainder of the evening passed off" very pleasantly. The little Bartletts were sorry to wish their young friends good night, and they in their turn expressed their surprise at the late- ness of the hour, declaring that the day had pas- sed exceedingly quick. 75 CHAPTER VII. Maria continued her studies with an astonish- ing diligence, but it was at the expense of much self-comnaand. She often felt weary of the business in which she was engaged, and would sometimes cast an anxious look at the dial, to see if the hours of school were nearly expired; but the remembrance of her mamma's advice instantaneously recalled her to a sense of duty, and the delightful hope of deserving her appro- bation inspired her with fresh energy. When attempting to learn a difficult page of grammar, or harassed by a perplexing sum, she felt an inclination to lay them down, she conquered the impulse by the exhilarating reflection, " If I overcome them, 1 shall give pleasure to my dear mamma." If her exercises had been better written tiian usual, her mother's praises threw a gleam of cheerfulness over her mind, which was not obscured for many hours. 74 In this manner had six weeks passed ; no par- ticular circumstance had occurred to cause anjr variety in the family, when Mrs. Selvyn talked of leaving-. Mr. Bgrtlett, concerned for her lonely situation in a country so far distant from her sister, who was the only near relative she had, earnestly pressed her to take a house near theirs. At first she hesitated, feeling a reluctance at leaving her fashionable acquaintances ; but as she had now began to prefer the more solid and rational society of her brother and sister, she soon overcame this trifling objection ; and leaving Chesnut Grove in the beginning of January, she determined to dispose of her house and furniture, and return to her brother ag-ain in the early part of the summer. ;u Maria loved her too-indulgent aunt, and felt very sorry when she was gone : had her mamma suffered her to give vent to her feelings, not a lesson or book would have been looked at. She stood at the window till the carriage was out of sight, then, bursting- into tears, she exclaimed, u " She is gone ! perhaps I may never see her again!" "Most likely you will, my dear," said Mrs. 75 Bartlett, " do not cry ; come to the fire, and pre- pare your g-eog-raphical exercise ; it will amuse your mind, and I shall soon be ready to correct it." " Indeed mamma," replied Maria, "you must allow me to work this morning', instead of doing my usual lessons, for really I feel too unhappy to attend to them." " Maria," answered her mother, " I am per- fectly astonished at your hesitation in obeying- my commands; besides, do you not know that it is wrong to suffer any little trouble of this sort to prey upon your mind in such a way as to oc- casion a neglect of your duties ? If all our lives are spared, you will see your aunt again in the summer; then wherefore all this unnecessary grief?" In this way Mrs. Bartlett talked to Maria, un- til she had convinced her of her faults — first, in disobeying her commands — and secondly, in too great an indulgence of her feelings. "Suscep- tibility, if carried too far," said she, "becomes a crime, and I wish you to guard against it." Maria acknowledged her fault, entreated her 76 mamma's forgiveness, and resuming her studies with a composed countenance, she soon displayed the same ardent application as she had done before. One evening, as Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett were sitting alone, Mrs. Bartlett said, " T think, my dear, in the course of time our Maria will become every thing we wish her. I am delighted to observe that she retains all her former docility; that notwithstanding the neglect she has lately experienced, her temper is yet humble and submissive." "We must attribute this, my dear Caroline, to the blessing of God upon our early instructions. We find his gracious promise verified in Maria — Train up a child in the way that he should go, and when he is old he will not depart J'roni it. I do not think it is possible to commence the busi- ness of instruction too early. It is not so easy to incline the tree as to bend the twig. If the seeds of virtue and goodness are implanted as soon as reason begins to dawn, they will vegetate with the growth of the child ; and as its understand- ing expands, the plant of religion will flourish and increase; and provided it is diily watered 77 and well cultured, it will in time bring- forth an abundant harvest. The hideous heads of vice, too, may sometimes be cut off in their very bud, and thus prevent a multiplicity of future crimes and miseries. The sallies of a passionate temper will become less strong- and less frequent, if they meet with early and repeated mortifications, and if bad dispositions are checked as soon as they begin to appear. Is it unreasonable to hope that their places will be occupied by dispositions of an opposite nature?" " Such, I think, would be the natural conse- qnence," replied Mrs. Bartletf, "and while we are endeavouring to subdue evil propensities, we are in fact preparing^ the heart for the reception of virtuous affections." "The intellects too, as well as the heart," continued Mr. Bartlett, " ought to engage our assiduous attention. The x'Ylmighty has be- stowed on man a soul capable of learning an in- finite variety of thing-s; but when it comes into the world, it is in a state of ignorance, and unless proper knowledge be inculcated, it will soon amass a large store of that which is unprofitable. It is, therefore, the bounden duty of parents and teachers to be verv careful in what knowledsre H 78 they set before children. This was Maria's dis- advantage : when she was at a distance from us, her studies were ill chosen ; consequently her mind is a desert, but her heart is yet the seat of many good affections, because proper principles were early implanted there," At this n^oraent a ring at the hall door pro- claimed the arrival of some visitors; and in a few minutes Mr. Mrs. and Miss Wellington were announced. Mr. Wellington was a good-looking man, of about twenty-seven years of age; and his wife an elegant woman, a few years younger. Miss WellingJon, their sister, was about twenty-one. She was rather (genteel than beautiful, her man- ners were engaging, and remarkable for their diffidence and artlessness. When the usual compliments had passed, Mr. Wellington said, "Mrs. Wellington and Julia have brought their work, and if you are perfectly disengaged, we will spend the evening with you." ' " Nothing could have given us o renter plea- 79 sure,'* replied Mr. Bartlett. " Caroline and my- self have been quite alone since dinner, and for the last half hour we have been discussing the merits of education." " Ah ! that must be a pleasing- theme to yoUy" rejoined Mr. ^yellington, " we see it so admirably exemplified in the behaviour of your children, that we sometimes wonder what plan you go upon." " A very simple one," said Mr. Bartlett; " we endeavour to make our children understand the difference between right and wrong*, and exact their obedience to the one, while we inculcate their abhorrence of the other." " Yes, to you, Mr. Bartlett, this may be an easy task ; you are particularly fortunate in the tempers of your children. I have observed that they do not give you one particle of trouble." Mr. Bartlett smiled, and was going to reply, when Mrs. Wellington took up the thread of the discourse. "They have all, by nature," said she," such sweet dispositions, goodness appears to be inter- H 2 80 woven with their very constitution. Our little boy, on the contrary, has a most unhappy tem- per :• his spirit is so high, that he completely ma- nages me, and I question if he does not, some time or other, become more than a match for his papa." " Of course you are only jesting," said Mrs. Bartlett, "but yet, if the disposition of yonr son be any thing similar to the account you have given us, I think you ought to take it in hand in time, otherwise you will find a difficulty in managing him." "I assure you, Mrs. Bartlett, I do every thing in my power to correct him ; not a day passes but I scold as much as any body." "Yes, she does indeed," said Mr. Wellington, "and sometimes my little Emily gets into such a pet, that I am obliged to interfere between them, and scarcely know whose part to take — hers or my boy's." > i "Of course you never take his in the presence of his mother?" interrupted Mr. Bartlett. "What not if I think her on the wrong side?" n *• Certainly not ; any thing tliat fends to di- minish the authority of a parent, must prove in- jurious to the welfare of the child. When once your authority is lost, you will find it very diffi- cult to ensure obedience," *'0! as for ensuring obedience," said Mrs. Wellington, "it is entirely out of my power, he will not mind one word that I say to him." "And unless you take every pains to correct him now," rejoined Mr. Bartlett, "believe me, my dear friends, it is most likely that he will always continue incorrigible. In the course of my life I have been witness of much unhappiness, that might have been prevented by a proper culture of the temper and mind in the days of childhood. Among many instances, one, that made a forcible impression upon me when I was quite a young man, now occurs to my recollec- tion." " Before you relate it," said 3irs. Bartlett, "will you allow me to ring for the addition of Maria and Emma to our party ? Something will probably be said that may be of use to them ; and they may just as well bring their work here. M '3 8-2 as sit round the school-room fire with their bro- thers and Louisa." Mr. and Mrs. Welh'ugton requested Mrs. Bart- lett to send for all the children, declaring that their company would be giving them an additi- onal pleasure. Mrs. Bartlett, however, only sent for the three eldest, and said Edwin and Louisa should be in- dulged by coming in for a little while, after they had taken their tea. " And T will suspend my little narrative," said Mr. Bartlett, " until we have had ours." «8 CHAPTER VIII. After the tea-things were removed, and the ladies settled at their work, Mrs. Bartlett re- quested her husband to relate the circumstances he had alluded to, before tea. "While spending a few weeks," said he, "with some relations in town, I was invited to meet a small party, at the house of a lady with whom my relations were very intimate. Before they introduced me to her, they told me that she had been a widow for many years ; that she had one son and four daughters, and that since her hus- band's death she had resided in the country, but was now come to London to be near her bro- ther, who was just returned from the West Indies, and had taken a house in Cavendish- square. - "As we were invited en J'amille, we arrived at the lady's house about an hour before dinner. S4 "The servant conducted us to the drawing room, and informed us that his mistress would come to us immediately. After waiting a full half hour in anxious expectation, we heard a tremendous noise in the room above us. My friends were going to ring to inquire the cause, (for we really imagined some dreadful accident had happened ;) when the voices becoming less clamorous, and consequently more distinct, we discovered that it was one of the young ladies in a violent passion, because her sister had con- tradicted her in something she had stated. 1 was perfectly electrified by the volley of abusive and unlady-like language that I heard proceeding from the lips of this girl. A young lady of our party turned pale with terror ; and I assure you that I do not exaggerate when I say, that in the agitation of the moment I almost believed the ceiling would break through, by the effect of her stamping. "At length the lady of the house made her appearance; she did not say one word in apology for the shock we had suffered, being ignorant perhaps that we had been partakers of the un- pleasant feelings her daughter had occasioned to every body in the house; or was prevented pro- bably by the arrival of several of her friends^ t^ \vho were announced before she had time to say any thing beyond an inquiry of our health, &c. "Presently the four young ladies were intro- duced. The eldest, an untidy inelegant-looking* girl, of about twenty years of age, was the first who entered the room; her hair looked dishevel- led, her clothes were carelessly put on, and al- though made of the richest materials, they wore an appearance of much neglect ; her silk gown was full of creases, from not having been care- fully folded up ; the sandals of her shoe had been broken, and tied together in a knot ; and the delicate complexion of her arm discovered itself throuofh the fractures of her white kid glove." At this Mr. Wellinofton smiled, and asked Mr. Bartlett if he was not a little too satirical? "No, no," continued Mr. Bartlett, "I am not levelling my ridicule at any person known to the company ; therefore, I must be permitted to represent their faults in as strong a light as they really deserve. But to take leave of this unbe- coming fair one, with her slip-shod shoes and ruf- fled hair, I must whet up my recollection to describe the very fascinating appearance of the 86 second miss. Her sullen brow and crimson countenance immediately informed us. that she had been the heroine of the fray up stairs. When seated amongst us, she evidently en- deavoured to assume a look of smiling com- posure, but the recent traces of ill-humour were not so easily obliterated ; and the unkind glances she sometimes threw at her eldest sister, induced us to believe that the dispute had been with her. "The third looked a good-humoured innocent little girl; but it was impossible not to feel some- what sorry at the awkward embarrassment of her manner, as she entered the room. She led her youngest sister by the hand, who, at the age of eight, displayed all the affectation of a school- miss of eighteen: in her manner there was an effrontery particularly ungraceful in a little girl ; and as she curtsied to each of the company, she formed a ludicrous contrast to her blushing sister, who, overwhelmed with confusion at the sight of several strangers, sat down in the first chair, without taking notice of any one in par- ticular. She had made one awkward curtsy as she entered, and her confusion would not al- low her to make another. "The son, a pleasing youth of seventeen, ap- peared the most companionable of the family: he maintained the conversation, and performed the duties of the table, with astonishing ease and address. " In the evening a little dance was proposed. We had all taken our places, and I was just go- ing to lead off my partner, when the second daughter, who, by way of distinction, I must call Miss Jemima, declared that she would not dance unless her sister Clarinda changed places with her. Little Clarinda, the third daughter, was a good-natured girl, and very willing to oblige ; but in this instance it was out of her power, as she confessed she could not dance out of her usual place. Neither sister would yield to the other, and the dispute was most impolitely carried on, till we grew quite tired of our statue- like posture. " The brother, greatly mortified by his sisters* want of breeding, endeavoured to reconcile them to each other; but they only upbraided him, by saying- that he had no right to interfere. The mother now stepped forward, and com- manded them, in an angry tone, to cause no dis- turbance, but to proceed m ith their dance. They 88 answered her impertinently, and though they at length obeyed her, the enjoyment of the evening was destroyed. " At supper, the temper of the young ladies appeared restored, and I began to think that with a little management they might become a very agreeable family. Clarinda, whom I have described as looking the most good-humoured, appeared very sorry to part with my cousin Fan- ny, who was a good-tempered girl, and nearly her own age. The mother perceiving this, in- vited Fanny to spend a week with them. The invitation was accepted, and a few days after- wards I escorted her to the residence of her fair friends; they pressed me to stay dinner, and the young gentleman and myself becoming exceed- ingly sociable, we passed the evening in a very agreeable t'tie a the, while the young ladies amused themselves by looking over a portfolio of drawings, that had been sent them that morning by a friend. " Frederick and 1 began to like each other very much; and when he urged me to stay the re- mainder of the week with Fanny, I did not re- quire much solicitation to comply with his re- quest. 89 ** The next morning 1 arose at my usual hour, and was greatly surprised in finding none of the family up. At nine o'clock the servants began their employment of sweeping the carpets and dusting the furniture of the rooms where we were to sit. At ten we" sat down to a breakfast, rendered uncomfortable by the angry looks of the mother, and the impertinent behaviour of the daughters. I soon began to discover that there was but little system or order carried on in this house. Every thing appeared to be done out of place, and out of time. Having occasion to pass through the kitchen to visit some of Frederick's curiosities, 1 was struck with the scene of confusion it presented. The head of the family was making some pastry, while the two servants were absolutely quarrelling with each other in her presence. The tables looked as if all the contents of the larder and scullery had been spread upon them; the pavement greatly needed the assistance of the scrubbing- brush and pail; and I left tliis heterogeneous mass of litter with feelings of disgust too difficult to describe. " What, I inwardly inquired, can be the- reason of this want of order? What can be the cause to which this family must date its misery? I medi- 90 tated some time, but the cause was then too hid- den for me to develope. By degrees it unfolded of itself. The vouno: ladies treated me with less reserve, and in the course of a few days I was reg-arded as one of the family. I now beg-an to see that their mother was excessively ill-used by them ; that her temper was very bad, and that her children never tried to soften it ; on the con- trary, they continually exasperated her by their arrogant and undutiful behaviour. I perceived that her authority was completely lost among them, and that her commands were disregarded by the very servants. Her spirits appeared low, and she every hour complained that no one minded her; that she was only the nominal mistress of her house, that her life was very un- comfortable, and that she should go distracted. I every day beheld her in tears, and her health appeared to be rapidly declining-. Feeling pity for her situation, 1 thought of every means that could be devised to alleviate it. In niy hours of retirement I endeavoured to ascertain the cause of her trouble, but could not do so. I saw that her children were undutiful, and that her servants regarded her with contempt, but the reason of all this was a mystery that I could not at that time unfathom. 91 ** When I returned to my relations, I mentioned the subject to them ; they said, they were aware the whole family were ill-tempered, but they knew not the cause. *' I wondered why they visited them, but made no remark on their doina: so. "A few days after this I was introduced to the Captain, (the lady's brother). I found him ta be an intellig-ent man : in the course of time w« became well acquainted. "One summer eveningr, as we were sitting to- g-ether, his sister and nieces made him a visit. After they were gone, I observed that his sister was looking- very unwell. 'Yes,' replied he, 'those looks are occasioned by the unbecoming- conduct of her daughters.' This led to an ex- planation of the whole mystery. From him 1 learnt that his sister was a woman who had al- ways indulged a weak susceptibility of feeling; that at the time of her husband's death no one could persuade her to part with her children, for the purposes of education. She complained that herfriends were cruel in expecting such a sacrifice from her, and that she loved the little darlings so much, that it would be almost death I 2 92 to be separated from them ; besides, sbe wished to superintend their education herself. She did so, and every day was strict in her requisition of their lessons, but she totally neglected the cul- ture of their dispositions and manners. She used no energetic resolution to counteract the slat- ternly habits of her eldest child ; and the second with impunity was permitted to terrify the whole family by the unbounded flights of her passion : while the awkward manners of Clarinda, and the pertness and self-sufficiency of little Ellen, met with a very small share of cor- rection. "Thus the children grew up. As their years increased, their failings became stronger. In process of time Elizabeth, the eldest, was a con- firmed sloven, and Jemima's temper the source of uneasiness to all in the house. In addition to their particular failings, self-will was their general characteristic ; and to such a pitch had this vice arrived, that they would not submit to the smallest contradiction of their wishes, or ever listen to the advice of their mother, even in affairs of the highest importance. From having been frequently permitted to follow their own way, they grew impertinent whenever their mother contradicted them ; and as she had once 93 or twice incautiously condescended to dispute with them, they were now in the daily habit of wrang-ling M'ith her. The servants copied the example of their young mistresses, and the house was generally a scene of confusion, wrath, and misery. "When the Captain had finished this un- pleasing account, I wished him a good evening; but instead of returning immediately to the house of my relations, I took a ramble in the fields, and meditated on the unhappy conse- quences of a bud education'* I 3 94 CHAPTER IX. Mr. and Mrs. Wellington were sensibly af- fected by the conversations they occasionally engaged in at Chesnut Grove ; and they approved so highly of Mr. Bartlett's sentiments and opi- nions on the subject of education, that they adopted them as their own, and endeavoured to reduce them to practice. The happy fruits of their new method of instructing became visible in the improved conduct of their little boy, who gradually gave some fresh proof of amendment. Maria and Emma grew very much attached to Miss Wellington, and their papa and mamma did all in their power to promote the intimacy, because they perceived many excellent traits in her character. "My children," said Mr. Bartletf, as they were one day returning from a long walk, "it is my particular wish that you cultivate the friend- ship of Miss Wellington. 1 have often enjoined d& you to regard your mother as your first friend, but I am far from wishing' you to confine your friend- ship exclusively to her; I know the delight young hearts are capable of receiving from associ- ating" with various persons of lively talents and amiable dispositions, and as long as the selection of your acquaintances devolves upon your mam- ma and myself, you need not scruple in giving them some of the best affections of your hearts, as I trust we shall always direct your friendship to those persons who will be worthy of it. In Miss Wellington you will find a friend capable of promoting your happiness and improvement. Her being seven or eight years older than your- selves will enable her to give you better advice, and will render her a more valuable companion than if she had been a girl of your own age. A young- woman of Miss Wellington's open and sincere disposition, will point out your errors, and would rather venture to displease you, than suifer you to indulge a wrong inclination." "That she would indeed, papa," said Emma, "she told me of something the other day; and I have heard Mrs. Wellington say that she has such a kind manner of telling people of their Errors, that she always endears therti to her at the very time she is finding fault with them." 9^ "The gentleness and meekness of Miss Wel- lington's manner," replied Mr. Bartlett, "is one of the most prominent lineaments of her charac- ter; and I contemplate these qualities in her with the highest pleasure, because 1 believe them to proceed from the possession of Christian principles, and not from the superficial polish of studied politeness." "Should you wish our dispositions, papa, to be as soft and gentle as hers?" inquired Maria. " Before I answer your question, my dear,' rejoined Mr. Bartlett, "^let me know your rea- sons for asking it." "Because, papa, Mr. Thomson says that if Miss Wellington Avas placed in a subordinate station, she would be liable to much oppression, owing to the easiness of her disposition ; and that her natural timidity would induce her to submit to things that her conscience disap- proved." "I should imagine, Maria," replied Mr. Bartlett, "that Mr. Thomson is not well ac- quainted with Miss Wellington, otherwise he would have formed a different opinion of her. 07 In Miss Wellington I have never discovered any instances of that passive tameness that yields an assent to the opinions of others before the judge- ment is convinced, and her regard for truth is so great, that I am sure she would do nothing through an improper complaisance that her con- science did not wholly approve ; therefore, Maria, I should wish your temper in every re- spect to be as soft and as gentle as that of Miss Wellington's. ;^•: " The apostle St. Peter has set forth meekness as one of the highest ornaments of woman, Whose adorning, saj/s he, let it not be that out" ward adorning oj^ plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel ; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible ; even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price — of great price in the sight of God ! Is there, then, in the whole realm of nature a gem of such inestimable value? Is there an ornament of such surpassing beauty in all the cabinets of the jeweller's repository? or in all the wardrobes of fashion's votaries? Your persons may be adorned with raiment of the richest texture, and decorated with trinkets of the most transcendent value ; but should this OS highest ornameDt be wanting, the sparkling lustre of tlie diamond, and the glowing tinge of the purple, will be overlooked. «*What charms can the embellishments of dress give to a countenance surcharged with the crim- son of evil tempers, or to a form agitated by the workings of boisterous passions? Feminine /neekness,^ when cultivated on Christian princi- ples, is surely one of the highest touches to the character. It possesses more povverful attractions than do all the accomplishments that can be learned in the school of the world. It gives a charm to female society, preferable to that which the most cultivated intellect can bestow. It in- spires with the M'armest affections ; it crowns the angry brow of the wrangling disputant with the olive-branch of peace, and smooths his ruffled passions into calmness. " Meekness is the temper that shone forth so eminently in the life of the Blessed Redeesier — the temper which it will be your highest in- terest to copy, and your greatest happiness to possess. Blessed are the meek, says Jesus, for they shall inherit the earth. To no purpose would all the blessings of this terrestrial globe be lavished upon you, if you were destitute of this heavenly temper. Your mind would be in- capable of enjoying- them, and the language of your heart ("though perhaps not of your lips) would be, Oh! that I had Avings like a dove, for then would I flee away, and be at rest. Peace or rest is the object of which all human creatures are in search, but they will never find it, so long as they neglect the cultivation of this Christian temper. Bliss does not so much consist in the outward possession, as in the in- ternal disposition of the mind. Study, then, my children, to obtain the possession of this glorious ornament; and look up to God for his blessing, and he will surely render your search success- ful." When Mr. Bartlett had finished speaking, Maria inquired if there was any other quality in Miss Wellington that he wished her and her sis- ters to copy ? "You must have observed," said Mr. Bartlett, "the extreme modesty and diffidence that charac- terize I\Iiss Wellington's demeanour. " Diffidence in woman is a property of the most pleasing nature. There is nothing so engaging M bashful innocence, nothing more amiable 100 than retiring worth. But that woman who ob» trudes herself upon our notice, is an object of contempt, (I had almost said of disgust :) I know of nothing more unbecoming than a pert and forward deportment in your sex. " I have remarked, that in company Miss Wel- lington is rather silent than otherwise. Imitate her in this, for there is something in a very talka- tive woman particularly unpleasing ; le silence est le plus bel ornement desjemmes, is a sentiment that I have always read with pleasure, and I trust that both my daughters will adopt it as their motto. I would rather see you carry your bash- fulness too far, than have you err on the opposite side. A forward woman is an unamiable crea- ture, and always excites in our breasts feelings of the greatest abhorrence. Do not, however, imagine, from what I have said, that I would have you, even in company, perfectly silent; for there are many opportunities in which you may support and enliven the conversation ; but when you do so, never lose sight of the apostolic precept — Let your speech be always with grace^ seasoned with salt • or in the words of the mother of Lemuel — Open your mouth with wisdom, and on your tongue let there he found the law of kind- ness; and remember, that you cannot open your 101 mouth with wisdom >vhen you lose sight of wo- man's brightest ornament, modesty; for a wise woman will be discreet. / icill, says the apostle, that women adorn themselves with shamefacedness^ and what does this shamefacedness imply but a virtuous and diffident reserve ?" Mr. Bartlett paused ; but Maria and Emma begged that he would point out some other ex- cellency for them to copy in the character of their friend. "I have been particularly struck," said he, "by the neatness and simplicity of her dress. You recollect, the apostle has enjoined modesty of attire — / will that women adorn themselves in modest apparel — as opposed to that which is immodest, and to that which is vain. A young- lady, decked off to the highest acme of fashion, is obliged to compromise some of the feelings of feminine delicacy. In what view can a sober person behold the evening costume of some of these young votaries of caprice — can he do so with any other feeling than that of pity, mingled with disapprobation ? It is no excuse for them to say, * we must dress like other people — we cannot make ourselves, appear ridiculous by looking different to every body else.' This argu- K 102 ment will not do for women professing godliness; the command of your Maker, conveyed by the lips of his apostle, is, Be not conformed to this world, hut he ye transformed hy the renewing of your minds. When custom would demand of you the sacrifice of propriety, or of expense, beyond your means, then, my children, let your conduct be governed by this principle: in things indifferent conform to the general opinion, and do not affect a needless singularity. At present your dress is regulated by the directions of your mother ; and as long as it is so, it will be go- verned by the strictest rules of prudence and decorum ; but as a sudden stroke of providence, or an unexpected change in situation, may de- prive you of her maternal «are, it behoves me, as your father, to point out the plan I should wish you to follow, if left to your own discretion. The task is an easy one. I need only direct your attention to the precepts and example of your mother, and then my duty is performed ; but although you have at present the advantage of your niother's precepts, and can every day enjoy the benefit of her example, yet I think you will not object to hear any thing- else that your father may have to say on the subject." Mr. Rartlott looked at his daughters m i(h an 103 inquiring" smile, which they answered by an earnest entreaty for him to proceed. " You cannot," continued he, " cultivate neat- ness and propriety too much. "Always axoid Jinery and extreme gaiety ; yet, on suitable occasions, your station in life demands some degree of ornament, and I should not wish to see your dress totally devoid of it ; but be careful of falling into the opposite extreme. I had rather see too little than too much, and I should wish my children, by their conversation and deportment, to give lustre to the ornaments they wear, and not to borrow it from thence in consequence of their insipidity and inattention. " Do not let your dress engage too large a por- tion of your time. Discharge the daily duties of the toilet as speedily as you can ; that is, do not expend any unnecessary moments upon them ; but never suffer this praiseworthy dispatch to be exchanged for a culpable disregard to the laws of cleanliness and order. A departure from these laws conveys the idea of something- shocking. It bears an analogy to impurity of mind, and we turn from the sight of a dirty slovenly female with emotions of the most inve- K 2 104 terate disgust. But when you can unite dispatch to a proper, discharge of these superior duties, you will have attained the highest summit in this department to which I wish you to aspire, "Let me warn you from making dress the too frequent subject of your discourse. If your auditors possess sense and discernment, the sub- ject must be an uninteresting one to them, and may prove a detrimental one to yourself. Your auditors will form a shallow opinion of your understanding, and you will probably appear less deserving in their eyes than you really are. "I once knew a young lady, who was in many respects agreeable, but from her propensity to this kind of conversation, she lost the good opinion of several of her friends ; and some of them talked of dropping their intimacy with her, because they could derive nothing profitable or amusing from her society. "Had this young lady bestowed less time and less thought on the adornments of her person, I think her discourse might have been more con- genial to an intelligent companion ; and she would not have evinced so much eagerness to 105 kave displayed a new frock, or fashionable bodice. And had she employed a part of that time in the reading- of well-selected books, she might have been as modest and as diffident as Miss Wellington. On the contrary there was a lerity in her manner, bordering upon forwardness. I trust I shall never see any species of levity in either of yon. You cannot, my dear girls, entertain a too exalted opinion of feminine mo- desty. The possession of it will always add to your felicity; whilst the least dereliction of its sacred laws would throw a stain over your mind, that all your future endeavours might not be able to expunge. "We have been talking of Miss Wellington, and I have recommended you to copy the two virtues that shine forth so brightly in her cha- racter; but beware of appearing modest or gen- tle, when you are in fact the reverse. Do not be hurt by this piece of advice. I give it, because I know it is possible that you may deceive your- selves, and fancy ?/om are something while you are nothing. The best antidote to this self-decep- tion will be, to lay the foundation of these vir- tues so deep that they cannot be easily rooted up. Let their seat be in the heart. Make it not so much your study to render your manners geu- K 3 106 tie and modest, in order to gain the affection and approbation of your fellow-creatures, as to acquire that real meekness of disposition, and purity of mi7id, that will be pleasing in the eyes of your Maker. Do all things with a view to glorify Him. Let a consideration of his com- mands check the first risings of an angry or fretful emotion, and a sense of his presence pre- vent the momentary indulgence of an unholy thought. Pray for the sanctifying influences of his Spirit, and you will possess one of its dis- tinguishing gifts, viz. that of gentleness. Pray that you may become spiritually-minded, and there will not be much danger of a levity of deportment. In one word, let the softness and gentleness of your manners be the offspring- of a meek and quiet spirit, and let the modesty of your demeanour proceed from the purity of your heart'' 107 CHAPTER X. During the time Maria had lived with her aunt, no one had ever conversed with her in the manner her father did ; consequently the novelty of his discourses assisted in rendering them pleasing" and impressive. She was so much de- lighted with what he had said on modesty and gentleness, that when they were returned from their walk, she took memorandums of some of the observations he had made. "My memory is so bad," said she to Emma, "that unless I use some sort of expedient, I shall soon forget the excellent advice papa has given us." " I most highly approve of the plan," said Emma, ^but I hope you will make a better use of it than I have done. 1 have found, that when I have taken notes of any (hing I wished par- ticularly to remember, 1 have trusted entirely to 108 tliem, and have neglected to think upon the subject, and have seldom taken the trouble to read what I have written ; thus the whole has been effaced from my mind, quite as soon as if I had not taken this method of retaining it. I mentioned it to mamma one day, and she laughed, and said that by such a plan I enriched my pocket-book instead of my understanding ; and really, Maria, there can be no utility in eur heaping up sentiments of knowledge and of virtue, unless they exercise our thoughts, and influence our conduct." " Very true indeed," replied Maria, " but I hope my heart and conduct will be amended by the observations that my scrap-book will con- tain." "I hope so too," rejoined Emma, "and I shall sometimes beg the favour of a perusal of them^ that my behaviour as well as yours may be im- proved by them." " I suppose you often review your extracts from the sermons ?" "I make a point of reading one extract every dav." 109 '< I trust, my deur sister," said Maria, ** I shall follow an example so excellent, and that my ex- tracts may prove of service to me also." Maria was as good as her word; she continued to take notes from the discourses she heard and the books she read, and her subsequent conduct shewed that she did not only write, but that she often read, and daily practised what she had writ- ten. The solidity of her papa's arguments had convinced her that there was nothing so desirable as the acquisition of knowledge and virtue ; therefore, to the attainment of these, she devoted the whole of her time and attention : and from her papa she learnt, that of all knowledge, the knowledge of her Bible and of herself was the most essential. By degrees she became sensible of her defi- ciency in many very necessary qualities, and she did not forget to strengthen that side which she had discovered to be the weakest. Her mamma had now seldom any occasion to reprimand her for a want of order, and the astonishing dili- gence she every day manifested in the per- formance of her duties, would not have suf- fered any one to have supposed that she was naturally of an indolent disposition. She 110 was sometimes stimulated by the examples' of Emma and Louisa. Industry was to them a sort of second nature, but to her it was quite a dif- ferent thing-; she gained her knowledge at the expense of close attention, and severe self-de- nial; and to a girl who had encouraged indolent habits so long, this was no very easy task. Among the many enemies she had to combat, the love of sleep was one of the most formidable. Emma and Louisa, accustomed to early rising, had al- ways a sufficiency of time for learning- their lessons ; but poor Maria, habituated to late hours, was obliged to call forth all her resolution to overcome the inclination she felt for indulging in a little more sleep. "Alas !" said she in her journal, (for she now kept a little written ac- count of her daily failings,) '* alas ! I fear I shall never conquer this inveterate enemy — this encroachment upon my time and peace — every night I make resolutions, and every morning I break them — and so I suppose it will be for ever." This was not however the case : she al- ways entered the hour she arose in the margin of her journal ; and thus having a written testi- mony for or against herself, she had sometimes the satisfaction of beholding: tiffures that atibrded her the most heartfelt pleasure. Ill In the statement of her faults she was always sincere, and this produced in her a temper of deep humility. It prevented her from thinking more highly of herself than she ought, and was an incentive to her thinking soberly. In her Bible she had read that God has commanded the duty of self-examination — examine yourselves^ prove your ownselves, was a precept that she every day endeavoured to obey. The accounts in her journal did not always wear a sombre aspect, but were sometimes of a most pleasing- cast ; for instance, " I look back upon the past day with feelings of the most lively gratitude to a Gracious God, who has kept me by his power from the commission of those sins into which I am most liable to fall." Again, "The past week has been a happy season to me; I have enjoyed much inward peace, my failings have been comparatively few, and my morning- and evening devotions have been particularly sweet." Such was the delightful frame of mind with which this poor girl was occasionally favoured — I call her poor, because she was the subject of many temptations and failings — yet she might properly be considered rich, since at such seasons she was rich in heavenly tempers. 112 From the daily habit of examining Iierself, Maria became so sensible of her faults, and so humble in consequence, that she trusted to her-i. self in nothing; and would never engage in any thing of importance without previously consulting her father or her mother, and soliciting not only their advice, but also their directions. It was some time before she began to teach in the Sunday- school, and when she did so, she did not venture toimpressany religious instruction upon the minds of the children, until she had first requested her papa to point out the manner in which she was to proceed. " You are going to commence a very respon- sible duty," said Mr. Bartlett, " and the success of your undertakings will depend, under the blessing of God, upon your manner of teaching. You must remember, that during the hours you devote to the school, the souls of the children are under your care. From you they will receive their ideas; from you perhaps they will gain all they will ever know of religion. " The first thing that you must do, is, to look up to Almighty God for his blessing; and then, humbly depending upon his assistance, you must endeavour to ascertain the several capacities of 113 your scholars, that you may administer a proper quantity of knowledge to each. There will be none so young-, but what will be capable of learning something on religion, but you must be very careful of your manner in instilling it; the language you use must be of the simplest kindy and suited to the age and capacity of the child. The first thing you must teach them, is, the existence of a God. You must tell them that every good thing they enjoy comes from him ; that he made them, and that his eye always beholds them, that he observes their conduct, and knows all their thoughts. You must tell them, also, that he is the maker of all things, in heaven and in earth, and that all things are up- held by his power. You must then point out the difference between right and wrong-, and in- form them what they must do, In order to obey and serve their Gon. You must teach them what his attributes are, and endeavour to engage their hearts in love and holy admiration of his goodness. Tell them that they must ask him for every thing they want, and praise him for every thing they enjoy ; and that he will be angry with them if they disobey their parents, or speak un- truths, or if they give way to wicked passions, and use improper language ; or if they steal, break the Sabbath, or take Gon's holy name in 114 vain ; — in short, you must point out every moral duty; and at the same time labour to convince them that they have no ability of themselves to perform the good, or to forsake the evil, but that they must obtain their power from God; that although they can do nothing of themselves, yet they can do all things through Christ strength- ening of them. "Teach them to pay a religious respect to the inward dictates of their conscience; to rejoice when they can obtain the approbation of their own bosoms, and to mourn when they are sen- sible of internal reproaches. " Acquaint them that there is a world to come, and that their souls will not die with their bodies; but that they will either reign with Christ in endless glory, or dwell with the spirits of the wicked in everlasting misery, while their bodies are slumbering in the dust. Inform them, that though their bodies will die, and be buried, yet God can, and will, raise them to life again, and will re-unite them to their souls, to be happy or miserable for ever, according to their behaviour in this life. "Do not ininoijie. that l>v talkino- to them on 115 these subjects, you will be going beyoud their ability of comprehending you. Children are capable of understanding divine truths at an earlier age than it is sometimes believed : we discover this by the serious look, the pertinent reply, and the sensible remark. " Childhood is susceptible of some of the best affections. Do we not frequently see the softened tear roll over the childish cheek, when told of a Saviour's love — of a Saviour's death ? Should we then defer, till riper years, the explanation of divine truths? Instead of telling a child that if she will be good God will love her, do you, Maria, endeavour to convince her that she is not good, convince her that she has committed sin from her infancy — sin that deserves everlasting punishment — and then point her to that Saviour who died for sinners, to that Lamb of Gon, which taketh aicay the sin of the world ! Tell her that Jesus Christ came down from heaven, and died to redeem the sinful children of men. Dwell upon the merits of his sacrifice, and try to impress their hearts with love for such a FRIEND.^ "But, after all, do not forget that the work belongeth unto God. We are only the humble iu- L 2 116 struments in his hands, and it is he alone who can effect CONVERSION, and renovate the heart. He is commonly pleased to bless our honest endea- vours ; yet sometimes he may withhold the bles- sing, to convince us that the work is not our own. Go on, then, my child, in humble de- pendence upon him ; trust to yourself in nothing; implore the directions of his Holy Spirit; and may he bless your youthful labours, to the sal- vation of many souls." Maria did not forget her papa's directions; she endeavoured, from Sunday to Sunday, to bring the spirit of his advice into her instruc- tions; and although she had at first many diffi- culties to contend with in the uncultured minds, and neglected dispositions of the children, yet, in process of time, their general conduct im- proved, and gave her some reason to hope that her lessons had reached their hearts. But, too humble to presume that her admonitions had produced any very beneficial effects, she com- forted herself by the reflection, that she was at least endeavouring to give them a knowledge of letters; and by doing so, she should put it into their poAver to read the word of God. 117 CHAPTER XI. As the beauty of the vernal season ap- proached, the happiness of this united family appeared to increase. Emma and Louisa had in Maria a new companion to share their plea- sures; and Maria had new sentiments, as well as new associates, to render her capable of en- joying* this delightful season in its highest zest. The approach of spring had never before given her so much pleasure. Her aunt was not a wo- man who derived enjoyment from rural sights, and rural sounds ; consequently, while residing with her, Maria had few opportunities of ob- serving the works of nature, or of receiving gratification from visiting the poor in their rustic abodes; but now some of her highest delights consistedin accompanying her papa and mamma, in their visits of mercy, to the neighbouring cottagers, and in contemplating the many beau- ties that surrounded her. She gazed upon them L 3 118 with emotions entirely new to her — she now traced the finger of God in all his works. In looking- upon them, her parents taught her to think of their great Author. From the sun, the moon, the clouds, the mountains, and all the grand features of nature, they taught her to contemplate his power. In the waving woods, and flowery meads, the orchards of blooming apple-blossom, and the fields of green wheat, they instructed her to trace his goodness and MERCY. Sometimes, when her mind was worked up with the enthusiastic feelings of admiration, she would suddenly check the rapture she felt from gazing on the objects without, to take a view "of the world within." "Alas!" she would exclaim, "what a contrast does my breast present to this charming scene ! All around me wears the appearance of innocence and peace — in yonder fields I see the dappled cows 'feeding' on their Maker's grass, and they are satisfied' — by their side the frisking lambkins frolic about in playful joy, and aftbrd a lesson of peace and love — the songsters of the wood join in one universal chorus to theirs and my Creator: — mv tonirue was likewise made to ce- 119 lebrate his praise, and my heart should be the seat of gratitude and love." A retired country life is certainly favourable to moral reflections, and pious meditations, which consideration may in some measure ac- count for Maria's rapid change of sentiment, and improvement of conduct. At her aunt's, the attendance of her numerous masters, the fre- quent repetition of evening parties, and occasion- ally a seat at the card table, kept her mind in one continued whirl of dissipation, and left little time for the indulgence of serious thought. Her parental habitation, insulated in its grove of chesnut-trees, and not admitting of any very contiguous neighbours, seldom furnished the opportunity of access to fashionable amusements, or to fashionable parties. Visitors were not per- petually to be found in the drawing room, and the card table was an object unknown. Maria, therefore, was now obliged to procure other entertainments; and in her books, her music, her work, and the delightful conversation of her pa- rents and young companions, she found an ample compensation for the amusements she had re- linquished. In addition to the constant fund of pleasure 120 withiu doors. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett had ffiven each of their children a little piece of ground, which they cultivated as their own garden. Mrs. Bartlett considered this as a source not only of recreation, but also of promoting and establish- ing the health of the children ; and as she gave them permission to rise very early, a portion of their time before breakfast was generally devoted to the enjoyment of this beneficial exercise. Augustus had displayed great taste in the laying out of his garden. Behind two or three large bushes he had formed a pretty bower, which afforded an agreeable surprise to persons on their first visit to his little shrubbery ; for, apparently arrived at the extremity of his terri- tories, you are, by a sudden turn of the serpen- tine walk, placed in front of a shady and inviting retreat. Here the Moodbine had twisted its elegant festoons, and the rose and clematis had united their sweets to render this spot the most delightful. When the little gardeners were fatigued with the labours of their employ, they would retire to the bower of Augustus, to refresh themselves ; and on a summer evening Mrs. Bartlett used frequently to bring her work, and sit there with 121 her daughters, while Mr. Bartlett or Augustus read some interesting book to them. These judicious parents did not allow of much poetry being read by their children, because it was their opinion that the generality of the subjects tended to excite romantic feelings ; " and youth,** Mr. Bartlett would observe, "is sufficiently prone to romance, without such a stimulous." Neverthe- less, as the time and place were so well calcu- lated to make good poetry a more than ordinary feast to lively imaginations, Mr. Bartlett seldom read any prose to his family, in Augustus's bower; but then the subjects were always well selected, and were chosen from a Milton, a Cow- per, or some other poet of unexceptionable worth. "There is a time and place for every thing," said Mr. Bartlett, one afternoon, as they were sitting in the bower, " and the time and place for reading poetry is on a summer evening, out of doors." "And for writing it also, I presume," said Mrs. Bartlett, looking archly at Maria. " One evening, I understand," continued she, "that two fair 122 damsels wandered in a grove, by moon-light, to pay their devoirs to the muses, regardless of the anxious fears of a tender brother, or of the beatinff heart of an aflfectionate mother.'* " Now, dear mamma!" exclaimed the blushing Maria, " do you think we should have been re- gardless of you, or of Mr. Wellington, if we had known you had been frightened ? N© ! we would have flown with swifter wings than the muses themselves," "What!" said Mrs. Bartlett, (afTectingsurprise,) "had ice known you or JUr. Wellington were frightened — what can all this mean, Maria ? 1 did not say who the poetesses were, but it appears you are not unacquainted with them." "There now, mamma! this is how you find things out; 1 thought Mrs, Wellington had told you." " No, Maria, I did not actually know that you were making^ poetry ; 1 only guessed that it might be so, from some secret intelligence I re- ceived." " Did you invoke the muses in unison, and so 123 blend your poetical effusions together?" said Mr, Bartlett, smiling-. " Oh no, papa," answered Maria ; "it is true that we had only one pencil, but we had two bits of paper, so we wrote by turns." "And then looked at the moon for inspiration," said Mr. Bartlet, laughing ; " but come, let me hear this poetical effusion, that I may judge whether the Pegasus of my little girl requires most of the rein or the spur." "Oh dear, papa!" said Maria, "he sometimes limps so much, that I cannot get him on at all, and at other times sets off full gallop, and leads me into quagmires and quick-sands, to the edges of precipices, and to the brink of deep rivers ; so that I find some difficulty in retaining my station, and am often in danger of pecking- for- ward, and of suffering severely for my poetical excursion." " In such cases, my child, you will do well to hold fast the rein," rejoined Mr. Bartlett, "or, perhaps, the safest caution would be to defer the excursion altogether, until the judgement be suf- ficiently ripened to direct the steps of this iiigh- 124 mettled courser. But where is this essay of poetry ?" Maria now endeavoured to assume a sfraver countenance, while she repeated a few lines written on the " Beauties of Summer.'* When she had finished, Mr. Bartlett said that he would make every allowance for the youth of the authoress, but advised her to defer, till riper years, the flights of her poetical fancy. " At present, my love, said he, " you have business to perform of a more important nature ; you must fill your own mind with ideas, before you attempt to convey any to the minds of others. By experience, and by application to your stu- dies, your judgement will become strengthened and improved ; and in time, your little pieces of poetry may not be deficient in sense or beauty." Mrs. Bartlett said, she should like to see Miss Wellington's production. Maria unfastened her pocket-book, and produced a few lines, which Mr. Bartlett read. With a good-nafuved smile he returned them to Murja, but made no rciiiark upon iheui; ob- 125 serving that it was getting late, and that they had better adjourn to the house. The twenty-seventh of June was Louisa's birth day : a party of young friends was invited to spend it with her; but the weather being op- pressively hot, their amusements were greatly re- tarded. In the evening Mrs. Bartlett proposed their going to Augustus's bower. On arriving there, they found a little table, with the tea-things arranged, a plate of bread and butter, and a large glass bowl of strawberries and cream. "Now," said Mrs. Bartlett, " I will leave you to yourselves. Maria, do you preside at the tea- table, and endeavour to make your young friends as comfortable as you can." After tea the weather continued too hot for the young ladies to play on the lawn, or to amuse themselves by any game that required much exercise ; so they continued some time in the bower, and afterwards walked quietly about the gardens and shrubberies, until Mrs. Bartlett sent for them to return to the house. M 126 Some little time after this evening', the whole family observed that Augustus was become very thoughtful ; that he evidently avoided the com- pany of his brother and sisters, and never ap- peared happy but when he had an opportunity of getting by himself. " Are you unwell, my dear Augustus ?" said Edwin, one dny, "or are you unhappy, that you appear so thoughtful, and avoid my company?" " I am neither unwell, nor unhappy, thank you, Edwin ;'* said Augustus, " but I acknow- ledge that I have lately been particularly thoughtful. I want to acquire knowledge, and I want to make a good use of it when it is acquired." Augustus spoke the last words in an em- phatic tone; his countenance glowed with en- thusiasm, and his whole frame seemed agitated. The astonished Edwin looked at him for some moments in silence; at length he inquired what there was in the observation to excite such ex- traordinary emotion. Augustus grasped the hand of his brulhcr, 127 aud after a pause of some moments, exclaimed^ "Edwin, I want to make a fortune !" "To make a fortune! you, who always ap- peared so unconcerned about money?" rejoined Edwin. "Even so," added Augustus, "and I am de- termined to make all the progress I possibly can in knowledg'e, as a means for accomplishing my purpose. I know not for what trade or profession I am designed, yet hnoxvledge I am convinced is essential to my success in any. On Louisa's birth day, William Darlington related an anec- dote of a very philanthropic man, who had passed the early part of his life in a menial capacity, but was raised, in consequence of his industry and good conduct, from one gradation to another, until he realized a very large property ; he then returned to the place of his nativity, founded a free-school, on a very liberal plan, erected several alms-houses, raised two reduced families from the most abject poverty, and in short proved a blessing- to the country around. "I want to follow his example, I want to rea- lize a quantity of wealth ; and if I do so, my fellow-creatures shall partake it with me. My M 2 128 highest aim shall be, to devote it to the glory of my Maker. May my name be unknown — may Augustus Bartlett be forgotten in obscurity — yet on his death-bed may he have the satisfaction of knowing that he has made others happy — and that he is going to leave the world, benefitted by his residence in it !" e^:.^<§r- 129 CHAPTER XII. From that time Aii"iistus became iiidefatio-able in his labours. He arose every morning at an ear- lier hour than he had formerly done ; pursued his studies through the day with unwearied appli- cation ; and often devoted a portion of his sum- mer evenings to his improvement in languages and mathematics. So eager was he become in his pursuits of knowledge, that Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett perceiving it, began to entertain fears for his constitution ; they therefore insisted on his devoting a part of every day to exercise and recreation. When Mr. Bartlett could command time from the labours of his profession, he would invite Auffustus to ride out with him. In one of these rides, he asked him if he had formed any idea of what business or profession M .J 130 he should like to follow, when he had finished his education. " This is a subject, papa," replied Augustus, " that has not been entirely absent from my mind. I have sometimes wished to be of your profes- sion, at others, to engage in mercantile pursuits ; but oftener I have wished to devote my life to the instruction of others." " By being made a clergyman ?" interrupted Mr. Bartlett. "I do not know exactly, papa, but in some way or other I wish to become an instructor." Mr. Bartlett promised that he would give him one of the best of educations; and that if he pleased, he should apply it to the benefit of his fellow-creatures. Augustus, delighted by his father's approba- tion, pursued his plan of study with even re- newed alacrity ; and Mr. Cameron was not un- frequently astonished by the surprising advances he made. In the latter end of the month of June, Mrs. IsSl Selvyn returned to the Grove. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett assisted her in selecting- a house; and in a short time she was very comfortably settled in a pretty cottage, at about five miles distance. Maria was very g-lad that her aunt was come back ; but her papa and mamma would not al- low her to spend more than a day at a time with her, because they were aware that visiting would retard the progress of her studies. She continued every day to give some fresh proof of her industry and application. As she now wrote a very beautiful hand, Mr. Bartlett proposed her taking lessons in drawing. Maria was greatly pleased by this indulgence ; she had a good taste, and her first specimens gave pro- mise of future eminence. Mrs. Bartlett greatly excelled in this art, and would sometimes gratify her children by taking- little sketches from nature, which she presented to them, as tokens of her approbation for their good conduct ; and they had each a pretty port- folio, painted by herself, in which they preserved these little mementos of her affection. One evening, as she was sketching in the 132 fields with Maria and Emma, Maria discovered, at a short distance from where they were stand- ing, a beautifuliittle alcove, of rural unculti- vated elegance. Four large beech-trees grow- ing- together had thrown a dark shade over the spot, which prevented this little bower from being seen at first. Under their ample branches a group of hazels formed a semicircle ; the bank, somewhat raised, afforded a commodious seat, while a pretty flowing rivulet completed the beauty of this little fairy scene. Mrs. Bartlett left her sketch unfinished, and followed the eager steps of her daughters to the inviting- spot. As they entered, the sim was sinking behind the adjacent hill, and had painted the sky with more than usual beauty. The birds had almost finished their evening song; not a breath of air seemed stirring ; the new-moM^n grass from a neighbouring field flung- its sweet per- fumes through the atmosphere, and the evening was altogether soft and delicious. They had walked a considerable distance, and were now rather tired. Emma complained of thirst, and observed how tempting the waters of 133 the brook appeared. Mrs. Bartlett, perceiving a place where some of it could be procured with the greatest safety, drew a piece of stiff paper from her pocket, and folding it several times, she twisted it at the bottom ; then gathering a couple of large dock-leaves, she placed them round it, and fastened them together with a pin. Thus a cup was speedily invented, and never did an emperor at a feast quaff the libations poured to him with higher gratification than did our wearied party the refreshment of this summer brook. When this little incident was over, they re- mained silent and thoughtful ; each, wrapped iu a reverie of pleasing reflections, seemed un- willing to interrupt, or to be interrupted, till Maria suddenly exclaimed — "Listen, mamma!" They all listened, and distinguished some sounds of distant music. It was soft and sweet, floated upon the air for an instant, and was gone. "O how delightful!" exclaimed Maria, "I wish we could hear it again." They waited, but all was silent. It began to 134 grow late, and they arose to return home; but before they had left their retreat, the same sounds again accosted their attention, and ap- peared to approach nearer. "How sweet!" ejaculated Emma, "what beau- tiful shakes — what variety in the inflections!" The music gradually drew nearer, till at length they were certain that the beech-trees alone separated them from the musician. " We must go, my dears," said Mrs. Bartlett, " the music may proceed from some strolling player, and I do not think it right to remain here, as your papa is not with us." i "■ , As she finished speaking, a sweet but power- ful voice began to accompany the instrument. "It is Julia! — it is Julia!" — exclaimed Maria, and running to the edge of the rivulet, she tried to penetrate through the thick foliage of the beech, and at length perceived the figures of two ladies, standing near a gentleman, who was seated on the bank, with a small guitar in his hand. Re- turning to her mamma, she intreated her to re- main till the air was finished. They did so, and 135 were soon joined by Miss Wellington, and her brother and sister. Mutual surprise and mutual congratulations were expressed. Mr. and Miss Welling-ton ac- knowledged themselves the musicians; and this pleasing addition to their party rendered the walk home doubly exhilirating to Mrs. and the Misses Bartlett. The adventures of their walk furnished con- versation for the remainder of the evening ; but Mr. Bartlett said, that he did not know whether he should ever trust his beloved charges to wan- der in the woods and fields again, without his protection. 136 CHAPTER XIII. On the following morning Mrs. Bartlett com- plained of a pain in her limbs, and of a slight cold in her head. Towards evening the violence of the pain increased ; and the next day her cold was accompanied by alarming symptoms. Every sense seemed impaired: her taste was completely gone, her eye-sight and hearing were affected, and her face and gums were very sore ; yet, assm'ing her husband and children that she should soon get better, she resisted their impor- tunities to remain in her chamber, and would sit up throughout the day. " It is merely a cold," said she, " occasioned by my neglect in not taking a shawl last even- ing, and I have no doubt but I shall lose it al- together in the coarse of a day or two." Mr. Dartlett, however, perceiving thut her cold Mas more than a common one, and that she 137 actually grew worse, sent for the family physi- cian, who desired her to retire to her own room immediately, and to take every possible care of herself. The abatement of her cold was followed by very painful head-aches, and a slight degree of fever. A general debility affected her frame, and every day the symptoms became more alarming*. Maria, who had never known her mother seriously ill before, was now in great affliction. Her studies were suspended, and she wished to pass the whole of the day in her mamma's apart- ment. " My dear Maria," said Mrs. Bartlett, one day, " although your attendance is highly gratifying- to me, I had rather see you endeavouring- to supply my place, in tl:e superintendence of those duties that I am oblio-ed to neglect. " While 1 am confined to this roon), it will be giving me much satisHiction to know that all your papa's comforts are properly attended to, and that the business of the school-room is per- formed in the best manner of which you arc 138 capable. From the nature of my complaint, it is likely that I may be ill a long time ; and if I thought the education of yourself and sisters was entirely neglected, it would give me a great deal of uneasiness." Maria now endeavoured to command the agi- tation of her feelings, and promised to supply her mother's place to the best of her ability ; but as the malady of her beloved parent in- creased, she found it very difficult to perform her promise. Emma, on the contrary, manifested more Christian fortitude and resignation. She heard little Louisa repeat her lessons, attended to her own as well as she was able, and then hastened to the sick apartment of her mother, in the hope of administering some relief. The symptoms of jMrs. Bartlett's complaint had terminated in a typhus fever; and before the approach of winter, the sanguine hopes of her husband and children were exchanged for fears of the most alarming nature. Gloom and sorrow pervaded every apartment, yet on every countenance Mere imprinted the traits of resig- nation ; but if any one evinced a less portion of 139 this Christian grace than the others, it was Maria. She appeared to feel the affliction in a more poignant degree than the rest, and was almost constantly on her knees, imploring her Maker to spare her mother's life. Miss Wellington passed a good deal of her time at the Grove, and in a great measure alle- viated the sorrows of its inhabitants by her soothinof and delicate attentions. When the tea or breakfast was brought in, it was Miss Wellington who presided — when little Louisa was worn out with sobbing, it was 3liss Wellington who pointed out some means of employment for her — and when JMaria was nearly overwhelmed with the excess of her agony, it was her friend Julia Wellington who soothed her by some seasonable word of conso- lation. " What is there in this wide world," said Maria, "that I would not give to save my mother's lifer "What is there in this world, my beloved Maria," answered Miss Wellington, "to equal the N 2 140 joys to which your dear mother is hastening ! shall we, my dearest Maria, wish to lengthen the time of her estrangement from them?" "Ob no!" rejoined the weeping Maria, "yet how shall I sustain her loss?" " When our friends, my dear, are brought down to the grave as it were with pain and af- fliction, and are themselves willing to depart," replied Miss Wellington, " Mould it not be cruel in us to wish their stay, merely that we may en- joy their society a little longer?" "Yes, indeed," said Maria, "and T will try to chasten my sorrow ; 1 will try to boAV with submission to the will of my Heavenly Fa- ther." "You must, my dear," added Miss Welling- ton, "you must remember that the trial comes from Him ! It was He who gave her unto you, and if it pleaseth him to take her away, you must endeavour not to repine." " Oh ! may he bestow his grace upon me," said Maria, "to support me under this heavy affliction." 141 *' May your prayer, Maria, be answered," said Emma, " and let us not forget to pray for grace to enable us to alleviate the sufferings of our dear father. His grief must be even more violent than ours." For some weeks there appeared little change in the state of Mrs. Bartlett's complaint. Her sufferings were very great, but her mind was calm and easy. When able to converse, religion and her family were her only concerns. She dwelt much upon the merits of the Savi- our's sacrifice ; on him she placed all her trust, and from him she derived all her support. At one time she evinced a good deal of anx- iety in the prospect of leaving her children ; but by degrees this anxiety subsided, and she cheerfully gave them up to the care of her Re- deemer, She lingered through the winter, and in the spring her complaint took a different turn, but not less alarming than the former. The physi- N 3 142 cian ordered change of air, and Mr. Bartlett determined to remove her from the Grove as soon as possible. "In that case, my dear," said she, "you must look out for some school for the children. I think Miss Wellington has a relation who in- structs a few young ladies; let us consult her, she can undoubtedly give us all the information we require." Miss Wellington wrote to her relation. The answer to the letter gave every satisfaction, and Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett determined upon placing their dausfhters under her care. Early in the month of April, this plan was put into execution. Poor Maiia, sorry to leave her dear mamma, was yet greatly consoled by the reflection that she left her under the care of Miss Wellington, who had kindly oflf'ered to ac- company Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett in their excur- sion. Mr. Cameron wished the boys to remain at his house; but as Mr. Bartlett did not like to impose so much trouble upon his friend, he pre- 143 ferred sending' them to a school that had been recommended to him by a relation, to whom he had written on the subject. 144 CHAPTER XIV. The lady with whom Maria and her sisters were so fortunate as to be placed, was one of those exemplary characters who always acted from principle — and from the best of principle — that deduced from the word of God. In discharging- the duties of her undertaking-, she made a point of consulting the dictates of her conscience. "My heart shall not reproach me," she would say, " with the neglect of these dear children. Providence has committed them to my charge ; their parents have given them up to my protec- tion, and it is / who must supply them with a mother's care. I shall regard them as my chil- dren, and I trust I shall not only furnish their minds with the elements of useful knowledge, but shall also promote their comfort and enjoy- ment." 145 "One great part of her duty, she conceived, was to watch over and correct the dispositions of the children. Indeed, she looked upon this as one of the most important and necessary parts of education. Her opinion was, that the formings of the manners, and the government of the heart, were of more utility than furnishing their minds with a knowledge of the sciences.- Nevertheless, as a study of these things weis one mean of ac- complishing her principal object, and as she was a great friend to literature, (but above all, as she received remuneration from their friends for instructing them in every useful and polite ac- complishment,) she did so to the very utmost of her capacity. On whatever subject she instructed her pupils, she endeavoured to give them general reasons for which it was expedient that they should at- tain that particular qualification, and the general purposes to which M'hen attained it was to be ap- plied. She endeavoured to convince them that ornamental acquisitions were designed to supply their hours of leisure with innocent and amusing occupations — occupations that >vould tend to prevent the languors and the snares of idleness, render home attractive, and contribute to the amusement and happiness of their families. 146 " The forming of the female character," she would say, " is of the utmost importance. The happiness of human life is less affected by great but unfrequent events, than by the daily recur- ring incidents of good and evil. In like manner, the peace and comfort of husbands, fathers, and brothers, will greatly depend upon the character of the females they live with. In a thousand little instances they may promote their felicity, or add an additional pang to their miseries." Such were the sentiments of this worthy pre- ceptress ; and the happiness and improvement of her pupils shewed that they were not only senti- ments that her judgement approved, but were such as she daily reduced to practice. The Misses Bartlett soon became tolerably reconciled to their new situation ; and had it not been for the affliction that secretly preyed upon their minds, they would have been very happy indeed. There were five young ladies there, beside themselves ; and as their kind governess had intimated the cause of their unhappiness, these young ladies emulated each other in their endeavours to amuse and make them comfortable. It was not long before they all became well ac- quainted with one another ; and as much pains 147 was bestowed upon the cultivation of the temper, they had seldom any dispute, but formed a little united family of affectionate sisters, with their excellent governess at their head, as the common parent of them all. Mr. Bartlett wrote a letter to his children every week, to inform them of the state of their mo- ther's health ; but these accounts were seldom of a favourable nature, and all the comfort they could derive from them was, that she did not get worse. A father, who took such an interest in the wel- fare of his children as Mr. Bartlett, could not be in the habit of writing to them now, that they were at a distance from him, without giving them some little pieces of advice. In one of his letters, written soon after their arrival, be says, "It gives me pleasure, my dear children, to find that you are so comfortable. Indeed I know that your governess will do every thing- in her power to make you happy ; and in return, I trust that you will studiously avoid creating her displeasure, that you will pay the most dili- gent attention to her instructions, and cherish 148 feelings of kindness and affection for your school-fellows." These sort of letters were calculated to make an impression upon the children, and as they tenderly loved their papa, they paid the greater deference to his admonitions. The midsummer holidays were passed at the school. During the next half year, Mr. Bart- lett wrote several letters to his children, that gave them the highest pleasure. He told them that the medical gentlemen had began to dis- cover some symptoms of amendment in their mother, and that if she continued to get better, he hoped they should all pass the next Christ- mas together, at Chesnut Grove. The anxiety with which tliey awaited the ar- rival of the holidays was very great. Three quarters of a year had elapsed since they had seen their dear parents and brothers, and when the anticipated day arrived, they scarcely knew how to command their feelings. The excess of their emotion was however tempered, when they took leave of their kind governess and school- fellows; and they did not part without tears of uiirci2"!icd sorrow ou botli KJiks. 149 , The meeting of this now happy family was a very joyful one. The children all found their mother better than their fears had suffered them to expect; and the parents were delighted with the improvements of their children. Augustus and Edwiu, although very much grown themselves, could not help remarking how much taller their sisters were ; who, in their turn, gazed upon the improved appearance of their brothers, with some degree of astonish- ment. The convalescence of Mrs. Bartlett was very gradual, so as to render it absolutely necessary for the children to return to school. After a few weeks of almost unmingied plea- sure, they once more left the parental roof, to return to the duties of their respective semi- naries. The absence of the young ladies, however, was not long protracted ; and when they returned, they were agreeably surprised in finding Miss Wellington an inmate of their house, and their joy was unbounded when informed that she had promised to reside Avith them. o 150 An unexpected circumstance had called Mr, and Mrs. Wellington to a distant part of the coun- try, and Mrs. Bartlett had requested Julia to reside with her. As her health was now nearly re- established, she determined once more to preside over the education of her daughters, in which un- dertaking- Miss Wellinofton had offered her assist- ance. Mrs. Bartlett accepted her proposal with gratitude, and was very happy in having so kind an assistant to share the labours and pleasures of such important duties. I pass over the emotions of the little circle on the first morning of their entering- their long- deserted school-room, for the purposes of study. I pass over the circumstances that took place during the next two or three years, and will en- deavour to delineate a faithful picture of Maria when arrived at the conclusion of her educa- tion. 151 CHAPTER XV. When she left school, her mamma perceived that her education was by no means finished : she had made a considerable progress, but the loss of some of her early years had prevented her from attaining- a proficiency. She was now nearly seventeen years of age, but her mamma urg-ed her to continue her lessons as usual. Maria, always happy in pleasing her mother, exerted every facility to deserve her approbation. Her French, her Italian, and all her other studies were pursued, with the hope of giving- her mother pleasure ; and Mrs. Bartlett had every reason to be pleased with her endeavours. Before she had completed her twentieth year, she was become every thing- that the most san- g'uine expectations of her parents could desire. Notwithstandino' the disadvantages resulting- from two years' neglect — notwithstanding- the habits of indolence she had formed — she had o 2 152 risen superior to them all, by the divine blessing, on the energies of application. Her temper and manners were obliging ; her mind was the seat of useful knowledge and pleasing reflections ; she excelled in every elegant and womanly accomplishment; and not- withstanding the errors of her childhood, she was now a pattern of neatness and order. But what was of more importance than all, she was a dutiful daughter, an affectionate sister, and a faithful friend. She contributed in a very large degree to the felicity of the inhabitants of Chesnut Grove ; and the ignorant, spoiled, and indolent girl, is now transformed into the well- informed, amiable, and industrious young wo- man. Emma and Louisa are lovely girls; but as they have not had such disadvantages to contend with as Maria, their being so is the less remark- able. Augustus is at college, and in a letter to his father he says, that he wishes to consider it as a retirement, to be consecrated to the improvement of his mind. 133 , Edwin has just left school, and it is intended that he should be brought up to the profession of his father. Mrs. Selvyn, preferring the society of the Bartletts to any other, keeps very little company. She is less gay and less fashionable than when she resided at Dalton Cottage, but is a great deal happier, and is of more benefit to society. Mr. and Mrs. Wellington are annual visitants at the Grove : they spent a month there last summer, accompanied by their son, who is now a very pleasing youth. The suavity and gentle- ness of his manners demonstrate, that the natural turbulence of his disposition has in a great measure been counteracted by the improved plan of his education. Mrs. Wellington has long- relinquished her scolding system, finding it no longer necessary. She has two little girls, who give promise of becoming the counterparts of the Misses Bartlett. Mr. Cameron's sou is still Augustus's compa- nion in study, and his arrival at the college was a great addition to the happiness of his friend. Mr. and Mrs. Cameron are sociable neigh- o 3 154 boiirs to the family at Chesnut Grove. They are very pleasing people ; the urbanity, benevolence, and piety of their hearts arediscernable through the veil of modesty with which they are ob- scured. They sometimes accompany the Bartletts in their visits to the poor, when Mr. Cameron, as the village pastor, gives the best of advice. He prays with those who are ill, and encourages the healthy in their works of industry and la- bour. Maria and Emma, having- more time to dispose of than before their education was finished, employ a larger part of it in the works of bene- volence and love. Accustomed to visit the abodes of poverty, they are led to meditate on the miseries of their fellow-mortals, and when lamenting over their sufferings, they are induced to do all that lies in their power to alleviate them. " It is not enough," said Maria, one day, "that we commiserate the troubles of these poor crea- tures, we must do all we can to prevent them. Our Heavenly Parent has bestowed numberless 155 blessings upon us, which in his infinite wisdom he has denied others, and it is his command that we impart to them some of the good things we en- joy. He even condescends to accept these little services, as done to himself; and when we reflect that he is the source from whence all our bles- ingsflow, shall we not cheerfully obey his right- eous command — a command to which he has annexed the most gracious promises? He that hath pity upon the poor^ lendeth unto the Lord : and look, what he layeth out it shall be paid him again. Blessed he the man that providethjbr the sick and needy ; the Lord shall deliver him in the time of trouble. Surely we ought to deny ourselves some gratifications^ that we may have it in OUT power to administer more liberally to the necessities of others ; and when we think on the self-denial of the blessed Saviour, and re- member what he suffered for the sake of his people, ought we not to manifest our gratitude, by a promptness to obey his commands, and a desire to imitate his example ? Let us think on this, and ascertain what sacrifice we can make for the sake of our poorer neighbours." "I will save all my money,** replied Louisa, " and will freely give every farthing I possess." 156 "Stop, Louisa," said Mrs. Bartlett, "theso hasty professions may not be put into practice; nor neither is it expected of you to give all you possess. Be charitable, my Louisa, but be pru- dent: let not generosity degenerate into prodi- gality. Imprudence is a fault very common among young people, but it is a dangerous foible, and often ends in much unhappiness. I would wish to see you a generous economist, not a thought- less little spendthrift. Let me ask you, Louisa, if you give all your money away, from whence are your pins and needles, your tape and cotton, and all such necessary articles to come? You know I expect you to purchase these things yourself, but how can you do so, if you give all your money away? These are articles that you cannot do without, and you might be tempted to run in debt with an honest tradesman, for want of the money you had so thoughtlessly lavished. From small beginnings important consequences proceed : always avoid falling into debt, even in these little trifles. The scriptural rule is, owe no man any thing, and an adherence to this rule_ is the source of much peace. It is a painful ' truth, that many honest shopkeepers are obliged to endure uncomfortable privations, and some of them have been absolutely ruined, owing to the shameful inattention of their customers to this 107 very thing. If you are obliged to run in debt, to indulge the feelings of benevolence, the in- dulgence becomes a crime. It is not charity,^ but injustice. To be truly charitable, you must cultivate a habit of economy and carefulness ; and your benevolence, as well as every thing- else, must be carried on by a plan ; and let the remembrance that you are engaged in your *J^ast€r^s work' stimulate your endeavours, and second your prayers, that at the last you may hear the joyful plaudit — Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the Joy of thy Lordr Mrs. BartTett then pointed out in what manner Louisa might practice the virtue of self-denial, without depriving herself of things which were absolutely necessary. •'You are working a very pretty flounce,^ my dear," said she; "now, as this is a superfluous article, have you any objection to wearing your gown plain, or to putting on some hemmed mus- lin, instead of the handsome bordering you are preparing? If you have no objection to the plan, half of the hour that you devote to this work of a day, may be expended in making a couple of warm gowns for old blind Ellen; and your 158 / flounce, though not finished quite so soon, will do to put on another gown, at some future pe- riod." Louisa joyfully assented to the proposal ; and when the two gowns were made, she folded them up with a pleasure that a sight of the most beautiful embroidery could never have inspired. Miss Wellington, Maria, and Emma have established a little day-school in the village. The children are placed under the care of a steady respectable woman, and the three young- ladies frequently attend, to examine the progress of the pupils, and to impart religious instruc- tions. These kind of employments make them very happy, and they are always to be seen industri- ous and cheerful. In Miss Wellington's apartment is a large wardrobe, where they keep a supply of clothes, ready to give to the poor, as proper occasions present themselves. In the summer they devote three mornings in the week, and in the winter three evenings, to the making of them. 159 Their working- parties are always pleasant.. On the winter evening's Mr. Bartlett reads to them, or sits by and converses. One evening-, as they were altogether, he thus addressed them: — "It gives me great delight, my children, to see you all so cheerful and happy ; but let us not forget to ascribe our gratitude to whom alone it is due. Let us look up to God, as the author and giver of all our mercies, and let us not for- get to praise Him for the enjoyment of them. "I am pleased with the beauty and upright- ness of your moral . conduct, but beware of placing too much dependance upon it. You are praised for your good actions ; the rich esteem you, and the poor love you, but remember that fame has very intoxicating qualities. Do not forget that after all you are but unprofitable servants, and that you can only do as God giveth you ability. It is he which must work in you to will and to do of his good pleasure. I trust that all your good works are the fruit of your faith in Jesus, ,and that they proceed from a desire to promote his glory. If Jesus is your chief good, you will be happy amid the smiles of prosperity and the frewns of calamity ; you will enjoy a 160 bliss that the world cannot give or take away ; and when you quit these scenes of mortality, you will depart for the Heavenly Canaan, tri- umphing in a Saviour's love, and bearing tes- timony to the merits of his atonement." FINIS. J. P. Biiilctj, Sfroudivafcr I'riniinff-Offite, "^ C^ •:••■ ; ''0mm^~m^^'