THE GOVERNESS;

OR, THE LITTLE FEMALE ACADEMY (1749)

by Sarah Fielding

There lived in the northern parts of England, a gentlewoman whoundertook the education of young ladies; and this trust she endeavouredfaithfully to discharge, by instructing those committed to her care inreading, writing, working, and in all proper forms of behaviour. Andthough her principal aim was to improve their minds in all usefulknowledge; to render them obedient to their superiors, and gentle, kind, and affectionate to each other; yet did she not omit teaching them anexact neatness in their persons and dress, and a perfect gentility intheir whole carriage. 

This gentlewoman, whose name was Teachum, was the widow of a clergyman, with whom she had lived nine years in all the harmony and concord whichforms the only satisfactory happiness in the married state. Two littlegirls (the youngest of which was born before the second year of theirmarriage was expired) took up a great part of their thoughts; and it wastheir mutual design to spare no pains or trouble in their education. 

Mr. Teachum was a very sensible man, and took great delight in improvinghis wife; as she also placed her chief pleasure in receiving hisinstructions. One of his constant subjects of discourse to her wasconcerning the education of children: so that, when in his last illnesshis physicians pronounced him beyond the power of their art to relievehim, he expressed great satisfaction in the thought of leaving hischildren to the care of so prudent a mother. 

Mrs. Teachum, though exceedingly afflicted by such a loss, yet thoughtit her duty to call forth all her resolutions to conquer her grief, inorder to apply herself to the care of these her dear husband's children. But her misfortunes were not here to end: for within a twelvemonth afterthe death of her husband, she was deprived of both her children by aviolent fever that then raged in the country; and, about the same time, by the unforeseen breaking of a banker, in whose hands almost all herfortune was just then placed, she was bereft of the means of her futuresupport. 

The Christian fortitude with which (through her husband's instructions)she had armed her mind, had not left it in the power of any outwardaccident to bereave her of her understanding, or to make her incapableof doing what was proper on all occasions. Therefore, by the adviceof all her friends, she undertook what she was so well qualified for;namely, the education of children. But as she was moderate in herdesires, and did not seek to raise a great fortune, she was resolved totake no more scholars than she could have an eye to herself withoutthe help of other teachers; and instead of making interest to fill herschool, it was looked upon as a great favour when she would take anygirl. And as her number was fixed to nine, which she on no accountwould be prevailed on to increase, great application was made, when anyscholar went away, to have her place supplied; and happy were they whocould get a promise for the next vacancy. 

Mrs. Teachum was about forty years old, tall and genteel in her person, though somewhat inclined to fat. She had a lively and commanding eye, insomuch that she naturally created an awe in all her little scholars;except when she condescended to smile, and talk familiarly to them;and then she had something perfectly kind and tender in her manner. Hertemper was so extremely calm and good, that though she never omittedreprehending, and that pretty severely, any girl that was guilty of thesmallest fault proceeding from an evil disposition; yet for no causewhatsoever was she provoked to be in a passion; but she kept up such adignity and authority, by her steady behavior, that the girls greatlyfeared to incur her displeasure by disobeying her commands; and wereequally pleased with her approbation, when they had done anything worthyher commendation. 

At the time of the ensuing history, the school (being full) consisted ofthe nine following young ladies:

 Miss JENNY PEACE. Miss NANNY SPRUCE. Miss SUKEY JENNETT. Miss BETTY FORD. Miss DOLLY FRIENDLY. Miss HENNY FRET. Miss LUCY SLY. Miss POLLY SUCKLING. Miss PATTY LOCKIT. 

The eldest of these was but fourteen years old, and none of the rest hadyet attained their twelfth year. 

AN ACCOUNT OF A FRAY, BEGUN AND CARRIED ON FOR THE SAKE OF AN APPLE: IN WHICH ARE SHOWN THESAD EFFECTS OF RAGE AND ANGER. 

It was on a fine summer's evening when the school-hours were at an end, and the young ladies were admitted to divert themselves for some time, as they thought proper, in a pleasant garden adjoining to the house, that their governess, who delighted in pleasing them, brought out alittle basket of apples, which were intended to be divided equallyamongst them; but Mrs. Teachum being hastily called away (one of herpoor neighhours having had an accident which wanted her assistance), she left the fruit in the hands of Miss Jenny Peace, the eldest of herscholars, with a strict charge to see that every one had an equal shareof her gift. 

But here a perverse accident turned good Mrs. Teachum's design of givingthem pleasure into their sorrow, and raised in their little heartsnothing but strife and anger: for, alas! there happened to be one applesomething larger than the rest, on which the whole company immediatelyplaced their desiring eyes, and all at once cried out, 'Pray, MissJenny, give me that apple. ' Each gave her reasons why she had the besttitle to it: the youngest pleaded her youth, and the eldest her age; oneinsisted on her goodness, another from her meekness claimed a title topreference; and one, in confidence of her strength, said positively, she would have it; but all speaking together, it was difficult todistinguish who said this, or who said that. 

Miss Jenny begged them all to be quiet, but in vain; for she could notbe heard: they had all set their hearts on that fine apple, looking uponthose she had given them as nothing. She told them they had betterbe contented with what they had, than be thus seeking what it wasimpossible for her to give to them all. She offered to divide it intoeight parts, or to do anything to satisfy them; but she might as wellhave been silent; for they were all talking and had no time to hear. At last as a means to quiet the disturbance, she threw this apple, the cause of their contention, with her utmost force over a hedge intoanother garden, where they could not come at it. 

At first they were all silent, as if they were struck dumb withastonishment with the loss of this one poor apple, though at the sametime they had plenty before them. 

But this did not bring to pass Miss Jenny's design: for now they allbegan again to quarrel which had the most right to it, and which oughtto have had it, with as much vehemence as they had before contended forthe possession of it; and their anger by degrees became so high, thatwords could not vent half their rage; and they fell to pulling of caps, tearing of hair, and dragging the clothes off one another's backs:though they did not so much strike, as endeavour to scratch and pinchtheir enemies. 

Miss Dolly Friendly as yet was not engaged in the battle; but on hearingher friend Miss Nanny Spruce scream out, that she was hurt by a slypinch from one of the girls, she flew on this sly pincher, as she calledher, like an enraged lion on its prey; and not content only to returnthe harm her friend had received, she struck with such force, as felledher enemy to the ground. And now they could not distinguish betweenfriend and enemy; but fought, scratched, and tore, like so many cats, when they extend their claws to fix them in their rival's heart. 

Miss Jenny was employed in endeavouring to part them. 

In the midst of this confusion appeared Mrs. Teachum, who was returningin hopes to see them happy with the fruit she had given them; but shewas some time there before either her voice or presence could awakenthem from their attention to the fight; when on a sudden they all facedher, and fear of punishment began now a little to abate their rage. Each of the misses held in her right hand, fast clenched, some marksof victory; for they beat and were beaten by turns. One of them held alittle lock of hair torn from the head of her enemy; another grasped apiece of a cap, which, in aiming at her rival's hair, had deceived herhand, and was all the spoils she could gain; a third clenched a piece ofan apron; a fourth, of a frock. In short, everyone unfortunately heldin her hand a proof of having been engaged in the battle. And the groundwas spread with rags and tatters, torn from the backs of the littleinveterate combatants. 

Mrs. Teachum stood for some time astonished at the sight; but at lastshe enquired of Miss Jenny Peace, who was the only person disengaged, to tell her the whole truth, and to inform her of the cause of all thisconfusion. 

Miss Jenny was obliged to obey the commands of her governess; thoughshe was so good natured that she did it in the mildest terms; andendeavoured all she could to lessen, rather than increase, Mrs. Teachum's anger. The guilty persons now began all to excuse themselvesas fast as tears and sobs would permit them. 

One said, 'Indeed, madam, it was none of my fault; for I did not begin;for Miss Sukey Jennett, without any cause in the world (for I didnothing to provoke her), hit me a great slap in the face, and made mytooth ache; the pain DID make me angry; and then, indeed, I hit her alittle tap; but it was on her back; and I am sure it was the smallesttap in the world and could not possibly hurt her half so much as hergreat blow did me. '

'Law, miss!' replied Miss Jennett, 'how can you say so? when you knowthat you struck me first, and that yours was the great blow, and minethe little tap; for I only went to defend myself from your monstrousblows. '

Such like defences they would all have made for themselves, eachinsisting on not being in fault, and throwing the blame on hercompanion; but Mrs. Teachum silenced them by a positive command; andtold them, that she saw they were all equally guilty, and as such wouldtreat them. 

Mrs. Teachum's method of punishing I never could find out. But thisis certain, the most severe punishment she had ever inflicted on anymisses, since she had kept a school, was now laid on these wicked girls, who had been thus fighting, and pulling one another to pieces, for asorry apple. 

The first thing she did was to take away all the apples; telling them, that before they had any more instances of such kindness from her, theyshould give her proofs of their deserving them better. And when she hadpunished them as much as she thought proper, she made them all embraceone another, and promise to be friends for the future; which, inobedience to her commands, they were forced to comply with, though thereremained a grudge and ill-will in their bosoms; every one thinking shewas punished most, although she would have it, that she deserved to bepunished least; and they continued all the sly tricks they could thinkon to vex and tease each other. 

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN MISS JENNY PEACE AND MISS SUKEY JENNETT;

WHEREIN THE LATTER IS AT LAST CONVINCED OF HER OWN FOLLY IN BEING SOQUARRELSOME; AND, BY HER EXAMPLE, ALL HER COMPANIONS ARE BROUGHT TO SEEAND CONFESS THEIR FAULT. 

The next morning Miss Jenny Peace used her utmost endeavours to bringher schoolfellows to be heartily reconciled, but in vain: for eachinsisted on it, that she was not to blame; but that the whole quarrelarose from the faults of others. At last ensued the following dialoguebetween Miss Jenny Peace and Miss Sukey Jennett, which brought aboutMiss Jenny's designs; and which we recommend to the consideration of allour young readers. 

MISS JENNY. Now pray, Miss Sukey, tell me, what did you get by yourcontention and quarrel about that foolish apple?

MISS SUKEY. Indeed, ma'am, I shall not answer you; I know that you onlywant to prove, that you are wiser than I, because you are older. But Idon't know but some people may understand as much at eleven years old asothers at thirteen: but, because you are the oldest in the school, youalways want to be tutoring and governing. I don't like to have more thanone governess; and if I obey my mistress, I think that is enough. 

MISS JENNY. Indeed, my dear, I don't want to govern you, nor to provemyself wiser than you; I only want that instead of quarrelling, andmaking yourself miserable, you should live at peace and be happy. Therefore, pray do answer my question, whether you get anything by yourquarrel?

MISS SUKEY. No I cannot say I got anything by it: for my mistress wasangry, and punished me; and my hair was pulled off, and my clothes tornin the scuffle; neither did I value the apple; but yet I have too muchspirit to be imposed on. I am sure I had as good a right to it as any ofthe others; and I would not give up my right to anyone. 

MISS JENNY. But don't you know, Miss Sukey, it would have shown muchmore spirit to have yielded the apple to another, than to have foughtabout it? Then indeed you would have proved your sense; for you wouldhave shown, that you had too much understanding to fight about a trifle. Then your clothes had been whole, your hair not torn from your head, your mistress had not been angry, nor had your fruit been taken awayfrom you. 

MISS SUKEY. And so, miss, you would fain prove, that it is wisest tosubmit to everybody that would impose upon one? But I will not believeii, say what you will. 

MISS JENNY. But is not what I say true? If you had not been in thebattle, would not your clothes have been whole, your hair not torn, yourmistress pleased with you, and the apples your own?

Here Miss Sukey paused for some time: for as Miss Jenny was in the rightand had truth on her side, it was difficult for Miss Sukey to know whatto answer. For it is impossible, without being very silly, to contradicttruth; and yet Miss Sukey was so foolish, that she did not care to ownherself in the wrong; though nothing could have been so great a sign ofher understanding. 

When Miss Jenny saw her thus at a loss for an answer, she was in hopesof making her companion happy; for, as she had as much good nature asunderstanding, that was her design. She therefore pursued her discoursein the following manner:

MISS JENNY. Pray, Miss Sukey, do answer me one question more. Don't youlie awake at nights, and fret and vex yourself, because you are angrywith your school-fellows? Are not you restless and uneasy, because youcannot find a safe method to be revenged on them, without being punishedyourself? Do tell me truly, is not this your case?

MISS SUKEY. Yes it is. For if I could but hurt my enemies, withoutbeing hurt myself, it would be the greatest pleasure I could have in theworld. 

MISS JENNY. Oh fie, Miss Sukey! What you have now said is wicked. Don'tyou consider what you say every day in your prayers'? And this way ofthinking will make you lead a very uneasy life. If you would hearken tome, I could put you into a method of being very happy, and making allthose misses you call your enemies, become your friends. 

MISS SUKEY. You could tell me a method, miss? Do you think I don't knowas well as you what is fit to be done? I believe I am as capable offinding the way to be happy, as you are of teaching me. 

Here Miss Sukey burst into tears, that anybody should presume to tellher the way to be happy. 

MISS JENNY. Upon my word, my dear, I don't mean to vex you; but only, instead of tormenting yourself all night in laying plots to revengeyourself, I would have you employ this one night in thinking of what Ihave said. Nothing will show your sense so much, as to own that you havebeen in the wrong. Nor will anything prove a right spirit so much asto confess your fault. All the misses will be your friends, and perhapsfollow your example. Then you will have the pleasure of having causedthe quiet of the whole school; your governess will love you; and youwill be at peace in your mind, and never have any more foolish quarrels, in which you all get nothing but blows and uneasiness. 

Miss Sukey began now to find, that Miss Jenny was in the right, and sheherself in the wrong; but yet she was so proud she would not own it. Nothing could be so foolish as this pride; because it would have beenboth good and wise in her to confess the truth the moment she saw it. However, Miss Jenny was so discreet as not to press her any farther thatnight; but begged her to consider seriously on what she had said, and tolet her know her thoughts the next morning and then left her. 

When Miss Sukey was alone she stood some time in great confusion. Shecould not help seeing how much hitherto she had been in the wrong; andthat thought stung her to the heart. She cried, stamped, and was in asgreat an agony as if some sad misfortune had befallen her. At last, whenshe had somewhat vented her passion by tears, she burst forth into thefollowing speech:

'It is very true what Miss Jenny Peace says; for I am always uneasy. Idon't sleep in quiet because I am always thinking, either that I havenot my share of what is given us, or that I cannot be revenged on any ofthe girls that offend me. And when I quarrel with them, I am scratchedand bruised; or reproached. And what do I get by all this? Why, Iscratch, bruise, and reproach them in my turn. Is not that gain enough?I warrant I hurt them as much as they hurt me. But then indeed, as MissJenny says, if I could make these girls my friends, and did not wishto hurt them, I certainly might live a quieter, and perhaps a happier, life. But what then, have I been always in the wrong all my lifetime?for I always quarrelled and hated everyone who had offended me. Oh! Icannot bear that thought! It is enough to make me mad! when I imaginedmyself so wise and so sensible, to find out that I have been always afool. If I think a moment longer about it, I shall die with grief andshame. I must think myself in the right; and I will too. But, as MissJenny says, I really am unhappy; for I hate all my schoolfellows; andyet I dare not do them any mischief; for my mistress will punish meseverely if I do. I should not so much mind that neither; but then thoseI intend to hurt will triumph over me, to see me punished for theirsakes. In short, the more I reflect, the more I am afraid Miss Jenny isin the right; and yet it breaks my heart to think so. '

Here the poor girl wept so bitterly, and was so heartily grieved, thatshe could not utter one word more; but sat herself down, reclining herhead upon her hand, in the most melancholy posture that could be; norcould she close her eyes all night, but lay tossing and raving with thethought how she should act, and what she should say to Miss Jenny thenext day. 

When the morning came, Miss Sukey dreaded every moment, as the time drewnearer when she must meet Miss Jenny. She knew it would not be possibleto resist her arguments; and yet shame for having been in fault overcameher. 

As soon as Miss Jenny saw Miss Sukey with her eyes cast down, andconfessing, by a look of sorrow, that she would take her advice, sheembraced her kindly; and, without giving her the trouble to speak, tookit for granted, that she would leave off quarreling, be reconciled toher schoolfellows, and make herself happy. 

Miss Sukey did indeed stammer out some words, which implied a confessionof her fault; but they were spoke so low they could hardly be heard;only Miss Jenny, who always chose to look at the fairest side ofher companions' actions, by Miss Sukey's look and manner guessed hermeaning. 

In the same manner did this good girl, Jenny, persuade, one by one, allher schoolfellows to be reconciled to each with sincerity and love. 

Miss Dolly Friendly, who had too much sense to engage the battle forthe sake of an apple, and who was provoked to strike a blow only forfriendship's sake, easily saw the truth of what Miss Jenny said; and wastherefore presently convinced, that the best part she could have actedfor her friend, would have been to have withdrawn her from the scuffle. 

A SCENE OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, QUITE THE REVERSE OF THE BATTLE, WHEREIN ARE SHOWN THE DIFFERENT EFFECTS OF LOVE AND GOODNESS FROM THOSEATTENDING ANGER, STRIFE, AND WICKEDNESS: WITH THE LIFE OF MISS JENNYPEACE. 

After Miss Jenny had completed the good work of making all hercompanions friends, she drew them round her in a little arbour, in thatvery garden which had been the scene of their strife, and consequentlyof their misery; and then spoke to them the following speech; whichshe delivered in so mild a voice, that it was sufficient to charm herhearers into attention, and to persuade them to be led by her advice, and to follow her example in the paths of goodness. 

'My dear friends and schoolfellows, you cannot imagine the happiness itgives me to see you thus all so heartily reconciled. You will findthe joyful fruits of it. Nothing can show so much sense as thus to ownyourselves in fault; for could anything have been so foolish as to spendall your time in misery, rather than at once to make use of the poweryou have of making yourselves happy? Now if you will use as manyendeavours to love as you have hitherto done to hate each other, youwill find that every one amongst you, whenever you have anything givenyou, will have double, nay, I may say eight times (as there are eight ofyou) the pleasure, in considering that your companions are happy. Whatis the end of quarrels, but that everyone is fretted and vexed, andno one gains anything! Whereas by endeavouring to please and love eachother, the end is happiness to ourselves, and joy to everyone around us. I am sure, if you will speak the truth, none of you have been so easysince you quarrelled, as you are now you are reconciled. Answer mehonestly, if this is not truth. '

Here Miss Jenny was silent, and waited for an answer. But the poorgirls, who had in them the seeds of goodwill to each other, althoughthose seeds were choked and overrun with the weeds of envy and pride;as in a garden the finest strawberries will be spoiled by rank weeds, ifcare is not taken to root them out; these poor girls, I say, now struckwith the force of truth, and sorry for what they had done, let drop sometears, which trickled down their cheeks, and were signs of meekness, and sorrow for their fault. Not like those tears which burst from theirswollen eyes, when anger and hatred choked their words, and their proudhearts laboured with stubbornness and folly; when their skins reddened, and all their features were changed and distorted by the violence ofpassion, which made them frightful to the beholders, and miserableto themselves;-- No! Far other cause had they now for tears, and fardifferent were the tears they shed; their eyes, melted with sorrow fortheir faults, let fall some drops, as tokens of their repentance; but, as soon as they could recover themselves to speak, they all with onevoice cried out, 'Indeed, Miss Jenny, we are sorry for our fault, andwill follow your advice; which we now see is owing to your goodness. '

Miss Jenny now produced a basket of apples, which she had purchased outof the little pocket-money she was allowed, in order to prove, that thesame things may be a pleasure or a pain, according as the persons towhom they are given are good or bad. 

These she placed in the midst of her companions, and desired them toeat, and enjoy themselves; and now they were so changed, that eachhelped her next neighbour before she would touch any for herself; andthe moment they were grown thus good natured and friendly, they were aswell-bred, and as polite, as it is possible to describe. 

Miss Jenny's joy was inexpressible, that she had caused this happychange; nor less was the joy of her companions, who now began totaste pleasures, from which their animosity to each other had hithertodebarred them. They all sat looking pleased on their companions; theirfaces borrowed beauty from the calmness and goodness of their minds;and all those ugly frowns, and all that ill-natured sourness, which whenthey were angry and cross were but too plain in their faces, were nowentirely fled; jessamine and honeysuckles surrounded their seats, andplayed round their heads, of which they gathered nosegays to presenteach other with. They now enjoyed all the pleasure and happiness thatattend those who are innocent and good. 

Miss Jenny, with her heart overflowing with joy at this happy change, said, 'Now, my dear companions, that you may be convinced what I havesaid and done was not occasioned by any desire of proving myself wiserthan you, as Miss Sukey hinted while she was yet in her anger, I will, if you please, relate to you the history of my past life; by which youwill see in what manner I came by this way of thinking; and as you willperceive it was chiefly owing to the instructions of a kind mamma, youmay all likewise reap the same advantage under good Mrs. Teachum, ifyou will obey her commands, and attend to her precepts. And after I havegiven you the particulars of my life, I must beg that every one of youwill, some day or other, when you have reflected upon it, declare allthat you can remember of your own; for, should you not be able to relateanything worth remembering as an example, yet there is nothing morelikely to amend the future part of anyone's life, than the recollectingand confessing the faults of the past. '

All our little company highly approved of Miss Jenny's proposal, andpromised, in their turns, to relate their own lives; and Miss PollySuckling cried out, 'Yes indeed, Miss Jenny, I'll tell all when it comesto my turn; so pray begin, for I long to hear what you did, when you wasno bigger than I am now. ' Miss Jenny then kissed little Polly, and saidshe would instantly begin. 

But as in the reading of any one's story, it is an additional pleasureto have some acquaintance with their persons; and as I delight in givingmy little readers every pleasure that is in my power; I shall endeavour, as justly as I can, by description, to set before their eyes the pictureof this good young creature: and in the same of every one of our youngcompany, as they begin their lives. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS JENNY PEACE. 

Miss Jenny Peace was just turned of fourteen, and could be calledneither tall nor short of her age; but her whole person was the mostagreeable that can be imagined. She had an exceeding fine complexion, with as much colour in her cheeks as is the natural effect of perfecthealth. Her hair was light brown, and curled in so regular and yet easya manner, as never to want any assistance from art. Her eyebrows (whichwere not of that correct turn as to look as if they were drawn with apencil) and her eyelashes were both darker than her hair; and thelatter being very long, gave such a shade to her eyes as made them oftenmistaken for black, though they were only a dark hazel. To give anydescription of her eyes beyond the colour and size, which was perfectlythe medium, would be impossible; except by saying they were expressiveof everything that is amiable and good; for through them might be readevery single thought of the mind; from whence they had such a brightnessand cheerfulness, as seemed to cast a lustre over her whole face. Shehad fine teeth, and a mouth answering to the most correct rules ofbeauty; and when she spoke (though you were at too great a distance tohear what she said) there appeared so much sweetness, mildness, modestyand good nature, that you found yourself filled more with pleasure thanadmiration in beholding her. The delight which everyone took in lookingon Miss Jenny was evident in this, that though Miss Sukey Jennett andMiss Patty Lockit were both what may be called handsomer girls (and ifyou asked any persons in company their opinion, they would tell you so)yet their eyes were a direct contradiction to their tongues, by beingcontinually fixed on Miss Jenny; for, while she was in the room, itwas impossible to fix them anywhere else. She had a natural ease andgentility in her shape; and all her motions were more pleasing, thoughless striking than what is commonly acquired by the instruction ofdancing masters. 

Such was the agreeable person of Miss Jenny Peace, who, in her usualobliging manner, and with an air pleasing beyond my power to express, atthe request of her companions began to relate the history of her life, as follows:

THE LIFE OF MISS JENNY PEACE. 

'My father dying when I was but half a year old, I was left to the careof my mamma, who was the best woman in the world, and to whose memoryI shall ever pay the most grateful honour. From the time she had anychildren, she made it the whole study of her life to promote theirwelfare, and form their minds in the manner she thought would bestanswer her purpose of making them both good and happy; for it was herconstant maxim, that goodness and happiness dwelt in the same bosoms, and were generally found to life so much together, that they could noteasily be separated. 

'My mother had six children born alive; but could preserve none beyondthe first year, except my brother, Harry Peace, and myself. She made itone of her chief cares to cultivate and preserve the most perfect loveand harmony between us. My brother is but a twelvemonth older than I;so that, till I was six years old (for seven was the age in which he wassent to school) he remained at home with me; in which time we often hadlittle childish quarrels; but my mother always took care to convince usof our error in wrangling and fighting about nothing, and to teachus how much more pleasure we enjoyed whilst we agreed. She showed nopartiality to either, but endeavoured to make us equal in all things, any otherwise than that she taught me I owed a respect to my brother asthe eldest. 

'Before my brother went to school, we had set hours appointed us, inwhich we regularly attended to learn whatever was thought necessaryfor our improvement; my mamma herself daily watching the opening of ourminds, and taking great care to instruct us in what manner to make thebest use of the knowledge we attained. Whatever we read she explained tous, and made us understand, that we might be the better for our lessons. When we were capable of thinking, we made it so much a rule to obey ourparent, the moment she signified her pleasure, that by that means weavoided many accidents and misfortunes; for example: my brother wasrunning one day giddily round the brink of a well; and if he had madethe least false step, he must have fallen to the bottom, and beendrowned; my mamma, by a sign with her finger that called him to her, preserved him from the imminent danger he was in of losing his life;and then she took care that we should both be the better for this littleincident, by laying before us how much our safety and happiness, as wellas our duty, were concerned in being obedient. 

'My brother and I once had a quarrel about something as trifling asyour apple of contention; and, though we both heartily wished to bereconciled to each other, yet did our little hearts swell so much withstubbornness and pride, that neither of us would speak first; by whichmeans we were so silly as to be both uneasy, and yet would not use theremedy that was in our own power to remove that uneasiness. My mammafound it out, and sent for me into her closet, and said, "She was sorryto see her instructions had no better effect on me; for, " continued she, "indeed, Jenny, I am ashamed of your folly, as well as wickedness, inthus contending with your brother. " A tear, which I believe flowed fromshame, started from my eyes at this reproof; and I fixed them on theground, being too much overwhelmed with confusion to dare to lift themup on mamma. On which she kindly said, "She hoped my confusion was asign of my amendment. That she might indeed have used another method, bycommanding me to seek a reconciliation with my brother; for she did notimagine I was already so far gone in perverseness, as not to hold hercommands as inviolable; but she was willing, for my good, first toconvince me of my folly. " As soon as my confusion would give me leaveto speak, on my knees I gave her a thousand thanks for her goodness, and went immediately to seek my brother. He joyfully embraced thefirst opportunity of being reconciled to me; and this was one of thepleasantest hours of my life. This quarrel happened when my brother camehome at a breaking-up, and I was nine years old. 

'My mamma's principal care was to keep up a perfect amity between meand my brother. I remember once, when Harry and I were playing in thefields, there was a small rivulet stopped me in my way. My brother, being nimbler and better able to jump than myself, with one springleaped over, and left me on the other side of it; but seeing me uneasythat I could not get over to him, his good nature prompted him to comeback and to assist me; and, by the help of his hand, I easily passedover. On this my good mamma bid me remember how much my brother'ssuperior strength might assist me in his being my protector; and that Iought to return to use my utmost endeavours to oblige him; and thatthen we should be mutual assistants to each other throughout life. Thuseverything that passed was made use of to improve my understanding andamend my heart. 

'I believe no child ever spent her time more agreeably than I did; for Inot only enjoyed my own pleasures, but also those of others. And when mybrother was carried abroad, and I was left at home, that HE was pleased, made me full amends for the loss of any diversion, the contentionsbetween us (where our parent's commands did not interfere) were alwaysexerted in endeavours each to prefer the other's pleasures to our own. My mind was easy and free from anxiety; for as I always took care tospeak truth, I had nothing to conceal from my mamma, and consequentlyhad never any fears of being found in a lie. For one lie obliges usto tell a thousand others to conceal it; and I have no notion ofany conditions being so miserable, as to live in a continual fear ofdetection. Most particularly, my mamma instructed me to beware of allsorts of deceit; so that I was accustomed, not only in words to speaktruth, but also not to endeavour by any means to deceive. 

'But though the friendship between my brother and me was so stronglycultivated, yet we were taught, that lying for each other, or praisingeach other when it was not deserved, was not only a fault, but a verygreat crime; for this, my mamma used to tell us, was not love, buthatred; as it was encouraging one another in folly and wickedness. And though my natural disposition inclined me to be very tender ofeverything in my power, yet was I not suffered to give way even to THISin an unreasonable degree. One instance of which I remember. 

'When I was about eleven years old, I had a cat that I had bred up froma little kitten, that used to play round me, till I had indulged for thepoor animal a fondness that made me delight to have it continually withme wherever I went; and, in return for my indulgence, the cat seemedto have changed its nature, and assumed the manner that more properlybelongs to dogs than cats; for it would follow me about the house andgardens, mourn for my absence, and rejoice at my presence. And, what wasvery remarkable, the poor animal would, when fed by my hand, lose thatcaution which cats are known to be possessed of, and eat whatever I gaveit, as if it could reflect that I meant only its good, and no harm couldcome from me. 

'I was at last so accustomed to see this little Frisk (for so I calledit) playing round me, that I seemed to miss part of myself in itsabsence. But one day the poor little creature followed me to the door;when a parcel of schoolboys coming by, one of them catched her up in hisarms, and ran away with her. All my cries were to no purpose; for he wasout of sight with her in a moment, and there was no method to trace hissteps. The cruel wretches, for sport, as they called it, hunted it thenext day from one to the other, in the most barbarous manner; till atlast it took shelter in that house that used to be its protection, andcame and expired at my feet. 

'I was so struck with the sight of the little animal dying in thatmanner, that the great grief of my heart overflowed at my eyes, and Iwas for some time inconsolable. 

'My indulgent mamma comforted without blaming me, till she thought Ihad sufficient time to vent my grief; and then, sending for me into herchamber, spoke as follows:

'"Jenny, I have watched you ever since the death of your littlefavourite cat; and have been in hopes daily, that your lamenting andmelancholy on that account would be at an end. But I find you stillpersist in grieving, as if such a loss was irreparable. Now, thoughI have always encouraged you in all sentiments of good nature andcompassion; and am sensible, that where those sentiments are stronglyimplanted, they will extend their influence even to the least animal;yet you are to consider, my child, that you are not to give way toany passions that interfere with your duty; for whenever there is anycontention between your duty and your inclinations, you must conquer thelatter, or become wicked and contemptible. If, therefore, you give wayto this melancholy, how will you be able to perform your duty towardsme, in cheerfully obeying my commands, and endeavouring, by your livelyprattle and innocent gaiety of heart, to be my companion and delight?Nor will you be fit to converse with your brother, whom (as you lostyour good papa when you were too young to know that loss) I haveendeavoured to educate in such a manner, that I hope he will be a fatherto you, if you deserve his love and protection. In short, if you donot keep command enough of yourself to prevent being ruffled by everyaccident, you will be unfit for all the social offices of life, and bedespised by all those whose regard and love are worth your seeking. Itreat you, my girl, as capable of considering what is for your own good;for though you are but eleven years of age, yet I hope the pains I havetaken in explaining all you read, and in answering all your questions insearch of knowledge, has not been so much thrown away, but that you aremore capable of judging, than those unhappy children are, whose parentshave neglected to instruct them. And therefore, farther to enforce whatI say, remember, that repining at any accident that happens to you, isan offence to that God to whom I have taught you daily to pray for allthe blessings you can receive, and to whom you are to return humblethanks for every blessing. "

'"I expect therefore, Jenny, that you now dry up your tears, and resumeyour usual cheerfulness. I do not doubt but your obedience to me willmake you at least put on the appearance of cheerfulness in my sight. Butyou will deceive yourself, if you think that is performing your duty;for if you would obey me as you ought, you must try heartily to rootfrom your mind all sorrow and gloominess. You may depend upon it, thiscommand is in your power to obey; for you know I never require anythingof you that is impossible. "

'After my mamma had made this speech, she went out to take a walk in thegarden, and left me to consider of what she had said. 

'The moment I came to reflect seriously, I found it was indeed in mypower to root all melancholy from my heart, when I considered it wasnecessary, in order to perform my duty to God, to obey the best ofmothers, and to make myself a blessing and a cheerful companion to her, rather than a burden, and the cause of her uneasiness, by my foolishmelancholy. 

'This little accident, as managed by my mamma, has been a lesson to mein governing my passions ever since. 

'It would be endless to repeat all the methods this good mother inventedfor my instruction, amendment, and improvement. It is sufficient toacquaint you, that she contrived that every new day should open to mesome new scene of knowledge; and no girl could be happier than I wasduring her life. But, alas! when I was thirteen years of age, the scenechanged. My dear mamma was taken ill of a scarlet fever. I attended herday and night whilst she lay ill, my eyes starting with tears to see herin that condition; and yet I did not dare to give my sorrows vent, forfear of increasing her pain. '

Here a trickling tear stole from Miss Jenny's eyes. She suppressed somerising sobs that interrupted her speech, and was about to proceed in herstory, when, casting her eyes on her companions, she saw her sorrow hadsuch an effect upon them all, that there was not one of her hearers whocould refrain from shedding a sympathising tear. She therefore thoughtit was more strictly following her mamma's precepts to pass this partof her story in silence, rather than to grieve her friends; and havingwiped away her tears, she hastened to conclude her story; which she didas follows:

'After my mamma's death, my Aunt Newman, my father's sister, took thecare of me; but being obliged to go to Jamaica, to settle some affairsrelating to an estate she is possessed of there, she took with her myCousin Harriet, her only daughter, and left me under the care of thegood Mrs. Teachum till her return. And since I have been here, you allknow as much of my history as I do myself. '

As Miss Jenny spoke these words, the bell summoned them to supper intothe presence of their governess, who having narrowly watched their looksever since the fray, had hitherto plainly perceived, that though theydid not dare to break out again into an open quarrel, yet their heartshad still harboured unkind thoughts of one another. She was surprisedNOW, as she stood at a window in the hall that overlooked the garden, tosee all her scholars walk towards her hand in hand, with such cheerfulcountenances, as plainly showed their inward good humour. And as shethought proper to mention to them her pleasure in seeing them thusaltered, Miss Jenny Peace related to her governess all that had passedin the arbour, with their general reconciliation. Mrs. Teachum gave MissJenny all the applause due to her goodness, saying, she herself had onlywaited a little while, to see if their anger would subside, and lovetake its place in their bosoms, without her interfering again; for THATshe certainly should otherwise have done, to have brought about whatMiss Jenny had so happily effected. 

Miss Jenny thanked her governess for her kind approbation, and said, that if she would give them leave, she would spend what time she waspleased to allow them from school in this little arbour, in readingstories, and such things as she should think a proper and innocentamusement. 

Mrs. Teachum not only gave leave, but very much approved of thisproposal; and desired Miss Jenny, as a reward for what she had alreadydone, to preside over these diversions, and to give her an account inwhat manner they proceeded. Miss Jenny promised in all things to beguided by good Mrs. Teachum. And now, soon after supper, they retired torest, free from those uneasy passions which used to prevent their quiet;and as they had passed the day in pleasure, at night they sunk in softand sweet repose. 

MONDAY. 

THE FIRST DAY AFTER THEIR REPENTANCE; AND, CONSEQUENTLY, THE FIRST DAYOF THE HAPPINESS OF MISS JENNY PEACE AND HER COMPANIONS. 

Early in the morning, as soon as Miss Jenny arose, all her companionsflocked round her; for they now looked on her as the best friend theyhad in the world; and they agreed, when they came out of school, toadjourn into their arbour, and divert themselves till dinner-time; whichthey accordingly did. When Miss Jenny proposed, if it was agreeable tothem to hear it, to read them a story which she had put in her pocketfor that purpose; and as they now began to look upon her as the mostproper person to direct them in their amusements, they all replied, Whatwas most agreeable to her would please them best. She then began toread the following story, with which we shall open their first day'samusement. 

THE STORY OF THE CRUEL GIANT BARBARICO, THE GOOD GIANT BENEFICO, AND THE LITTLE PRETTY DWARF MIGNON. 

A great many hundred years ago, the mountains of Wales were inhabitedby two giants; one of whom was the terror of all his neighbours and theplague of the whole country. He greatly exceeded the size of any giantrecorded in history; and his eyes looked so fierce and terrible, thatthey frightened all who were so unhappy as to behold them. 

The name of this enormous wretch was Barbarico. A name which filledall who heard it with fear and astonishment. The whole delight of thismonster's life was in acts of inhumanity and mischief; and he was themost miserable as well as the most wicked creature that ever yet wasborn. He had no sooner committed one outrage, but he was in agoniestill he could commit another; never satisfied, unless he could find anopportunity of either torturing or devouring some innocent creature. And whenever he happened to be disappointed in any of his maliciouspurposes, he would stretch his immense bulk on the top of some highmountain, and groan, and beat the earth, and bellow with such a hollowvoice, that the whole country heard and trembled at the sound. 

The other giant, whose name was Benefico, was not so tall and bulky asthe hideous Barbarico. He was handsome, well proportioned, and of a verygood-natured turn of mind. His delight was no less in acts of goodnessand benevolence than the other's was in cruelty and mischief. Hisconstant care was to endeavour if possible to repair the injuriescommitted by this horrid tyrant, which he had sometimes an opportunityof doing; for though Barbarico was much larger and stronger thanBenefico, yet his coward mind was afraid to engage with him, and alwaysshunned a meeting; leaving the pursuit of any prey, if he himself waspursued by Benefico: nor could the good Benefico trust farther tothis coward spirit of his base adversary, than only to make the horridcreature fly; for he well knew that a close engagement might make himdesperate; and fatal to himself might be the consequence of such abrutal desperation; therefore he prudently declined any attempt todestroy this cruel monster, till he should gain some sure advantage overhim. 

It happened on a certain day, that as the inhuman Barbarico was prowlingalong the side of a craggy mountain overgrown with brambles and brierythickets, taking most horrid strides, rolling his ghastly eyes aroundin quest of human blood, and having his breast tortured with inward rageand grief, that he had been so unhappy as to live one whole day withoutsome act of violence, he beheld, in a pleasant valley at a distance, alittle rivulet winding its gentle course through rows of willows mixedwith flowery shrubs. Hither the giant hasted; and being arrived, hegazed about to see if in this sweet retirement any were so unhappy as tofall within his power; but finding none, the disappointment set him ina flame of rage, which, burning like an inward furnace, parched histhroat. And now he laid him down on the bank, to try if in the coolstream, that murmured as it flowed, he could assuage or slack the fierythirst that burnt within him. 

He bent him down to drink; and at the same time casting his baleful eyestowards the opposite side, he discovered within a little natural arbourformed by the branches of a spreading tree, within the meadow's flowerylawn, the shepherd Fidus and his loved Amata. 

The gloomy tyrant no sooner perceived this happy pair, than his heartexulted with joy; and, suddenly leaping up on the ground, he forgot histhirst, and left the stream untasted. He stood for a short space toview them in their sweet retirement; and was soon convinced that, inthe innocent enjoyment of reciprocal affection, their happiness wascomplete. His eyes, inflamed with envy to behold such bliss, darted afearful glare; and his breast swelling with malice and envenomed rage, he with gigantic pace approached their peaceful seat. 

The happy Fidus was at that time busy in entertaining his loved Amatawith a song which he had that very morning composed in praise ofconstancy; and the giant was now within one stride of them, when Amata, perceiving him, cried out in a trembling voice, 'Fly, Fidus, fly, orwe are lost for ever; we are pursued by the hateful Barbarico!' She hadscarce uttered these words, when the savage tyrant seized them by thewaist in either hand, and holding up to his nearer view, thus said:'Speak, miscreants; and, if you would avoid immediate death, tell mewho you are, and whence arises that tranquility of mind, which even at adistance was visible in your behaviour. '

Poor Fidus, with looks that would have melted the hardest heart, innocently replied, that they were wandering that way without designingoffence to any creature on earth. That they were faithful lovers; and, with the consent of all their friends and relations, were soon to bemarried; therefore he entreated him not to part them. 

The giant now no sooner perceived, from the last words of the affrightedyouth, what was most likely to give them the greatest torment, than witha spiteful grin which made his horrible face yet more horrible, and ina hollow voice, as loud as thunder, he tauntingly cried out, 'Ho-hoh!You'd not be parted, would you? For once I'll gratify thy will, and thoushalt follow this thy whimpering fondling down my capatious maw. ' Sosaying, he turned his ghastly visage on the trembling Amata who, beingnow no longer able to support herself under his cruel threats, faintedaway, and remained in his hand but as a lifeless corpse. When liftingup his eyes towards the hill on the opposite side, he beheld Beneficocoming hastily towards him. This good giant having been that morninginformed that Barbarico was roaming in the mountains after prey, left his peaceful castle, in hopes of giving protection to whateverunfortunate creature should fall into the clutches of this so cruel amonster. 

Barbarico, at the sight of the friendly Benefico, started with fear; foralthough in bulk and stature he was, as we have said, the superior: yetthat cowardice, which ever accompanies wickedness, now wrought in him insuch a manner that he could not bear to confront him, well knowing thecourage and fortitude that always attend the good and virtuous; andtherefore instantly putting Fidus into the wallet that hung over hisshoulder, he flung the fainting Amata, whom he took to be quite expired, into the stream that ran hard by, and fled to his cave, not daring onceto cast his eyes behind him. 

The good Benefico perceiving the monster's flight, and not doubting buthe had been perpetrating some horrid mischief, immediately hastenedto the brook; where he found the half-expiring Amata floating downthe stream, for her clothes had yet borne her up on the surface of thewater. He speedily stepped in and drew her out, and taking her in hisarms, pressed her to his warm bosom; and in a short space perceivingin her face the visible marks of returning life, his heart swelled withkind compassion, and he thus bespoke the tender maid: 'Unhappy damsel, lift up thy gentle eyes, and tell me by what hard fate thou hast falleninto the power of that barbarous monster, whose savage nature delightsin nothing but ruin and desolation. Tremble not thus, but without fearor terror behold one who joys in the thought of having saved thee fromdestruction, and will bring thee every comfort his utmost power canprocure. '

The gentle Amata was now just enough recovered to open her eyes: butfinding herself in a giant's arms, and still retaining in her mind thefrightful image of the horrid Barbarico, she fetched a deep sigh, cryingout in broken accents, 'Fly, Fidus, fly;' and again sunk down upon thefriendly giant's breast. On hearing these words, and plainly seeing bythe anguish of her mind that some settled grief was deeply rooted at herheart, and therefore despairing to bring her to herself immediately, thekind Benefico hastened with her to his hospitable castle; where everyimaginable assistance was administered to her relief, in order torecover her lost sense, and to reconcile her to her wretched fate. 

The cruel Barbarico was no sooner arrived at his gloomy cave, than hecalled to him his little page; who, trembling to hear the tyrant nowagain returned, quickly drew near to attend his stern commands: whendrawing out of the wallet the poor Fidus, more dead than alive, themonster cried out, 'Here, caitiff, take in charge this smoothed-facedmiscreant; and, d'ye hear me? see that his allowance be no more than onesmall ounce of mouldy bread and half a pint of standing water, for eachday's support, till his now blooming skin be withered, his flesh bewasted from his bones, and he dwindle to a meagre skeleton. ' So sayinghe left them, as he hoped, to bewail each other's sad condition. But theunhappy Fidus, bereft of his Amata, was not to be appalled by any of themost horrid threats; for now his only comfort was the hopes of a speedyend to his miserable life, and to find a refuge from his misfortunesin the peaceful grave. With this reflection the faithful Fidus wasendeavouring to calm the inward troubles of his mind, when the littlepage, with looks of the most tender compassion, and in gentle words, bid him be comforted, and with patience endure his present affliction;adding that he himself had long suffered the most rigorous fate, yetdespaired not but that one day would give them an opportunity to freethemselves from the wicked wretch, whose sole delight was in others'torments. 'As to his inhuman commands, ' continued he, 'I will soonerdie than obey them; and in a mutual friendship perhaps we may find someconsolation, even in this dismal cave. '

This little page the cruel Barbarico had stolen from his parents at fiveyears old; ever since which time he had tortured and abused him, till hehad now attained the age of one-and-twenty. His mother had given himthe name of Mignon; by which name the monster always called him, as itgratified his insolence to make use of that fond appellation whilst hewas abusing him, only when he said Mignon he would in derision add theword Dwarf; for, to say the truth, Mignon was one of the least men thatwas ever seen, though at the same time one of the prettiest: his limbs, though small, were exactly proportioned; his countenance was at oncesprightly and soft; and whatever his head thought, or his heart felt, his eyes by their looks expressed; and his temper was as sweet as hisperson was amiable. Such was the gentle creature Barbarico chose totorment. For wicked giants, no less than wicked men and women, areconstantly tormented at the appearance of those perfections in another, to which they themselves have no pretensions. 

The friendship and affection of Fidus and Mignon now every dayincreased; and the longer they were acquainted, the mere delightthey took in each other's company. The faithful Fidus related tohis companion the story of his loved Amata, whilst the tender Mignonconsoled his friend's inward sorrows, and supplied him with necessaries, notwithstanding the venture he run of the cruel tyrant's heavydispleasure. The giant ceased not every day to view the hapless Fidus, to see if the cruelty of his intentions had in any degree wrought itsdesired effect; but perceiving in him no alteration, he now began to besuspicious that the little Mignon had not punctually obeyed his savagecommand. In order therefore to satisfy his wicked curiosity, he resolvedwithin himself narrowly to watch every occasion these poor unhappycaptives had of conversing with each other. Mignon, well knowing theimplacable and revengeful disposition of this barbarous tyrant, hadtaken all the precautions imaginable to avoid discovery; and thereforegenerally sought every opportunity of being alone with Fidus, andcarrying him his daily provisions at those hours he knew the giant wasmost likely to be asleep. 

It so befell that, on a certain day, the wicked giant had, as was hisusual custom, been abroad for many hours in search of some unhappycreature on whom to glut his hateful inhumanity; when, tired withfruitless roaming, he returned to his gloomy cave, beguiled of all hishorrid purposes; for he had not once that day espied so much as thetrack of man, or other harmless animal, to give him hopes even togratify his rage or cruelty; but now raving with inward torment anddespair, he laid him down upon his iron couch, to try if he could closehis eyes and quiet the tumultuous passions of his breast. He tossed andtumbled and could get no rest, starting with fearful dreams, and horridvisions of tormenting furies. 

Meanwhile the gentle Mignon had prepared a little delicate repast, andhaving seen the monster lay himself at length, and thinking now that afit occasion offered in which to comfort and refresh his long-expectingfriend, was hastening with it to the cell where the faithful Fiduswas confined. At the fatal moment the giant, rearing himself up on hiscouch, perceived the little Mignon just at the entrance of the cell;when calling to him in a hollow voice, that dismally resounded throughthe cave, he so startled the poor unhappy page, that he dropped thecover from his trembling hand and stood fixed and motionless as astatue. 

'Come hither, Mignon, caitiff, dwarf, ' said then the taunting homicide:but the poor little creature was so thunderstruck he was quite unableto stir one foot. Whereat the giant, rousing himself from off his couch, with one huge stride reached out his brawny arm, and seized him bythe waist; and, pointing to the scattered delicates, cried out, 'Vilemiscreant! is it thus thou hast obeyed my orders? Is this the mouldybread and muddy water, with which alone it was my command thou shouldstsustain that puny mortal? But I'll--' Here raising him aloft, he wasabout to dash him to the ground, when suddenly revolving in his wickedthoughts, that if at once he should destroy his patient slave, hiscruelty to him must also have an end, he paused--and then recovering, hestretched out his arm, and bringing the little trembler near his glaringeyes, he thus subjoins: 'No; I'll not destroy thy wretched life; butthou shalt waste thy weary days in a dark dungeon, as far remote fromthe least dawn of light as from thy loved companion. And I myself willcarefully supply you both so equally with mouldy bread and water, that each by his own sufferings shall daily know what his dear friendendures. ' So saying, he hastened with him to his deepest dungeon; andhaving thrust him in, he doubly barred the iron door. And now againretiring to his couch, this new-wrought mischief, which greatlygratified his raging mind, soon sunk him down into a sound and heavysleep. The reason this horrid monster had not long ago devoured hislittle captive (for he thought him a delicious morsel) was, that hemight never want an object at hand to gratify his cruelty. For thoughextremely great was his voracious hunger, yet greater still was hisdesire of tormenting; and oftentimes when he had teased, beat, andtortured the poor gentle Mignon, so as to force from him tears, andsometimes a soft complaint, he would, with a malicious sneer, scornfullyreproach him in the following words: 'Little does it avail to whine, toblubber, or complain; for, remember, abject wretch, I am a giant, and I can eat thee: Thou art a dwarf, and thou canst not eat me. '

When Mignon was thus alone, he threw himself on the cold ground, bemoaning his unhappy fate. However, he soon recollected that patienceand resignation were his only succour in this distressful condition; notdoubting but that, as goodness cannot always suffer, he should in timemeet with some unforeseen deliverance from the savage power of theinhuman Barbarico. 

Whilst the gentle Mignon was endeavouring to comfort himself in hisdungeon with these good reflections, he suddenly perceived, at a littledistance from him, a small glimmering light. Immediately he rose fromthe ground, and going towards it, found that it shone through a littledoor that had been left at jar, which led him to a spacious hall, wherein the giant hoarded his immense treasures. Mignon was at firstdazzled with the lustre of so much gold and silver, and sparkling jewelsas were there heaped together. But casting his eyes on a statue that wasplaced in the middle of the room, he read on the pedestal, written invery small letters, the following verses:

 Wouldst thou from the rage be free Of the tyrant's tyranny, Loose the fillet which is bound Twice three times my brows around; Bolts and bars shall open fly, By a magic sympathy. Take him in his sleeping hour; Bind his neck and break his pow'r. Patience bids, make no delay: Haste to bind him, haste away. 

Mignon's little heart now leapt for joy, that he had found the meansof such a speedy deliverance; and eagerly climbing up the statue, hequickly unbound the magic fillet; which was no sooner done, but suddenlythe bolts and bars of the brazen gates through which the giant used topass to this his treasury, were all unloosed, and the folding-doors oftheir own accord flew open, grating harsh thunder on their massy hinges. At the same instant, stretched on his iron couch in the room adjoiningto the hall, the giant gave a deadly groan. Here again the littleMignon's trembling heart began to fail; for he feared the monster wasawakened by the noise, and that he should now suffer the cruellesttorments his wicked malice could invent. Wherefore for a short space heremained clinging round the statue, till he perceived that all again washushed and silent; when, getting down, he gently stole into the giant'schamber, where he found him still in a profound sleep. 

But here, to the great mortification of Miss Jenny's attentive hearers, the hour of entertaining themselves being at an end, they were obligedto leave the poor little Mignon in the greatest distress and frightlest the giant should awake before he could fulfil the commands ofthe oracle, and to wait for the remainder of the story till anotheropportunity. 

In the evening, as soon as school was over, the little company again metin their arbour, and nothing could be greater than their impatience tohear the event of Mignon's hazardous undertaking. Miss Dolly Friendlysaid that if the poor little creature was destroyed, she should notsleep that night. But they all joined in entreating Miss Jenny toproceed; which she did in the following manner:

A CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF THE GIANTS. 

Now, thought Mignon, is the lucky moment to fulfil the instructions ofthe oracle. And then cautiously getting up the side of the couch, withtrembling hands he put the fillet round the monster's neck, and tied itfirmly in a threefold knot; and again softly creeping down, he retiredinto a corner of the room to wait the wished event. In a few minutes thegiant waked; and opening his enormous eyes, he glared their horrid orbsaround (but without the least motion of his head or body) and spied thelittle Mignon where he lay, close shrinking to avoid his baleful sight. 

The giant no sooner perceived his little page at liberty, but his heartsorely smote him, and he began to suspect the worst that could befall;for, recollecting that he had carelessly left open the little doorleading from the dungeon to the great hall wherein was placed the fatalmagic statue, he was now entirely convinced that Mignon had discoveredthe secret charm on which his power depended; for he already found themagic of the fillet round his neck fully to operate, his sinews allrelax, his joints all tremble; and when he would by his own hand havetried to free himself, his shivering limbs he found refused obedience totheir office. Thus bereft of all his strength, and well nigh motionless, in this extremity of impotence he cast about within himself by what slyfraud (for fraud and subtlety were now his only refuge) he best mightwork upon the gentle Mignon to lend his kind assistance to unloose him. Wherefore with guileful words and seeming courtesy, still striving toconceal his cursed condition, he thus bespake his little captive:

'Come hither Mignon; my pretty gentle boy, come near me. This filletthou has bound around my neck, to keep me from the cold, gives me somepain. I know thy gentle nature will not let thee see thy tender masterin the least uneasiness, without affording him thy cheerful aid and kindrelief. Come hither, my dear child, I say, and loose the knot which inthy kind concern (I thank thee for thy care) thou hast tied so hard, itsomewhat frets my neck. '

These words the insidious wretch uttered in such a low trembling tone ofvoice, and with such an affectation of tenderness, that the little page, who had never before experience from him any such kind of dialect, andbut too well knew his savage nature to believe that anything but guileor want of power could move him to the least friendly speech, or kindaffection, began now strongly to be persuaded that all was as he wished, and that the power of the inhuman tyrant was at an end. He knew fullwell, that if the giant had not lost the ability of rising from thecouch, he should ere now too sensibly have felt the sad effects of hismalicious resentment, and therefore boldly adventured to approach him, and coming near the couch, and finding not the least effort in themonster to reach him, and from thence quite satisfied of the giant'stotal incapacity of doing farther mischief, he flew with raptures to thecell where Fidus lay confined. 

Poor Fidus all this time was quite disconsolate; nor could he guess thecause why his little friend so long had kept away; one while he thoughtthe giant's stern commands had streightened him of all subsistence;another while his heart misgave him for his gentle friend, lest unawareshis kind beneficence towards him had caused him to fall a sacrificeto the tyrant's cruel resentment. With these and many other likereflections the unhappy youth was busied, when Mignon, suddenly unbarredthe cell, flew to his friend, and eagerly embraced him, cried out, 'ComeFidus, haste, my dearest friend; for thou and all of us are from thismoment free. Come and behold the cruel monster, where he lies, bereft ofall his strength. I cannot stay to tell thee now the cause; but haste, and thou shall see the dreadful tyrant stretched on his iron couch, deprived of all his wicked power. But first let us unbar each cell, wherein is pent some wretched captive, that we may share a generaltransport for this our glad deliverance. '

The faithful Fidus, whose heart had known but little joy since he hadlost his loved Amata, now felt a dawning hope that he might once morechance to find her, if she had survived their fatal separation; and, without one word of answer, he followed Mignon to the several cells, andsoon released all the astonished captives. 

Mignon first carried them to behold their former terror, now, toappearance, almost a lifeless corpse; who on seeing them all surroundhis couch, gave a most hideous roar, which made them tremble, all butthe gentle Mignon, who was convinced of the impotence of his rage, andbegged them to give him their attendance in the hall; where they were nosooner assembled than he showed them the statue, read them the oracle, and told them every circumstance before related. 

They now began to bethink themselves of what method was to be takento procure their entire liberty; for the influence of the magicfillet extended only to the gates of the hall; and still they remainedimprisoned within the dismal cave; and though they knew from the oracle, as well as from what appeared, that the monster's power was at an end, yet still were they to seek the means of their escape from this hishorrid abode. At length Mignon again ascended the couch to find themassy key, and spying one end of it peep out from under the pillow, hecalled to Fidus, who first stepped up to his friend's assistance; therest by his example quickly followed; and now, by their united force, they dragged the ponderous key from under the monster's head; and thendescending they all went to the outer door of the cave, where, with somedifficulty, they set wide open the folding iron gates. 

They now determined to dispatch a messenger to the good Benefico withthe news, which they knew would be so welcome to him and all his guests, and with one voice agreed that Fidus should bear the joyful tidings;and then returned to observe the monster, and to wait the coming ofBenefico. The nimble Fidus soon reached the giant's dwelling, where, ata little distance from the castle, he met the good Benefico with atrain of happy friends, enjoying the pleasures of the evening, and theinstructive and cheerful conversation of their kind protector. Fidusbriefly told his errand; and instantly Benefico, with all his train, joyfully hastened to behold the wonders he had related; for now manyhearts leapt for joy, in hopes of meeting some friend of whom they hadbeen bereft by the cruelty of the savage Barbarico. 

They were not long before they arrived at the horrid cave, whereBenefico, proceeding directly to the monster's chamber, suddenlyappeared to him at the side of his couch. Barbarico, on seeing him, gave a hideous yell, and rolled his glaring eyes in such a manner asexpressed the height of rage and envious bitterness. 

Benefico, turning to all the company present, thus spoke, 'How shall Ienough praise and admire the gentle Mignon for having put in my powerto justice on this execrable wretch, and freeing you all from aninsufferable slavery, and the whole country from their terror?' Thenreaching the monster's own sword, which hung over his couch, his handyet suspended over the impious tyrant, he thus said, 'Speak, wretch, if yet the power of speech is left thee; and with thy latest breathdeclare, what advantage hast thou found of all thy wicked life?'

Barbarico well knew that too bad had been that life, to leave the leastroom for hope of mercy; and therefore, instead of an answer, he gaveanother hideous yell, gnashing his horrid teeth, and again rolling hisghastly eyes on all around. 

Benefico seeing him thus impenitent and sullen, lifted on high themighty sword, and with one blow severed his odious head from hisenormous body. 

The whole assembly gave a shout for joy; and Benefico holding in hishand the monster's yet grinning head, thus addressed his half-astonishedcompanions: 'See here, my friends, the proper conclusion of a rapaciouscruel life. But let us hasten from this monster's gloomy cave; and onthe top of one of our highest mountains, fixed on a pole, will I set upthis joyful spectacle, that all the country round may know themselves atliberty to pursue their rural business or amusements, without thedread of any annoyance from a devouring vile tormentor. And when histreasures, which justly all belong to the good patient Mignon, areremoved, we will shut up the mouth of this abominable dwelling; and, casting on the door a heap of earth, we'll hope, in time, that bothplace and remembrance of this cruel savage may in time be lost. '

Every one readily cried out, that to Benefico, the good Benefico, alone belonged the tyrant's treasures; that Benefico should ever be, asheretofore, their governor, their father, and their kind protector. 

The beneficent heart of the good giant was quite melted with this theirkind confidence and dependence upon him, and assured them, he shouldever regard them as his children: and now, exulting in the general joythat must attend the destruction of this savage monster, when the wholecountry should find themselves freed from the terror his rapine anddesolation, he sent before to his castle, to give intelligence to allwithin that happy place of the grim monster's fall, and little Mignon'striumph; giving in charge to the harbinger of these tidings, that itshould be his first and chiefest care to glad the gentle bosom of afair disconsolate (who kept herself retired and pent up within her ownapartment) with the knowledge that the inhuman monster was no more; andthat henceforth sweet peace and rural innocence might reign in all theirwoods and groves. The hearts of all within the castle bounded withjoy, on hearing the report of the inhuman monster's death, and thedeliverance of all his captives, and with speedy steps they hastenedto meet their kind protector; nor did the melancholy fair one, lestshe should seem unthankful for the general blessing, refuse to join thetrain. 

It was not long after the messenger that Benefico, and those his joyfulfriends, arrived: but the faithful Fidus alone, of all this happycompany, was tortured with the inward pangs of a sad grief he couldnot conquer, and his fond heart remained still captivated to a meltingsorrow: nor could even the tender friendship of the gentle Mignon quiteremove, though it alleviated, his sadness; but the thoughts of his lovedlost amata embittered every joy, and overwhelmed his generous soul withsorrow. 

When the company from the castle joined Benefico, he declared to them inwhat manner their deliverance was effected; and, as a general shout ofjoy resounded through the neighbouring mountains, Fidus, lifting uphis eyes, beheld in the midst of the multitude, standing in a pensiveposture, the fair disconsolate. Her tender heart was at the instantoverflowing in soft tears, caused by a kind participation of theirpresent transport, yet mixed with the deep sad impression of a grief herbosom was full fraught with. Her face, at first, was almost hid by herwhite handkerchief, with which she wiped away the trickling drops, whichfalling, had bedewed her beauteous cheeks: but as she turned her lovelyface to view the joyful conquerors, and to speak a welcome to her kindprotector, what words can speak the raptures, the astonishment, thatswelled the bosom of the faithful youth, when in this fair disconsolatehe saw his loved, his constant, his long-lost Amata! Their delightedeyes in the same instant beheld each other, and, breaking on eachside from their astonished friends, they flew like lightning into eachother's arms. 

After they had given a short account of what had passed in theirseparation, Fidus presented to his loved Amata the kind, the gentleMignon, with lavish praises of his generous friendship, and steadyresolution, in hazarding his life by disobeying the injunctions of thecruel tyrant. No sooner had Amata heard the name of Mignon, but shecried out, 'Surely my happiness is now complete, and all my sorrows, bythis joyful moment, are more than fully recompensed; for, in the kindpreserver of my Fidus, I have found my brother. My mother lost herlittle Mignon when he was five years old; and pining grief, after someyears vain search, ended her wretched life. '

The generous hearts of all who were present shared the raptures ofthe faithful Fidus, the lovely Amata, and gentle Mignon, on this happydiscovery; and in the warmest congratulations they expressed their joy. 

Benefico now led all the delighted company into his castle, wherefreedom was publicly proclaimed; and every one was left a liberty eitherto remain there with Benefico, or, loaded with wealth sufficient fortheir use, to go where their attachments or inclinations might invitethem. 

Fidus, Amata, and the little Mignon, hesitated not one moment to declaretheir choice of staying with the generous Benefico. 

The nuptials of the faithful Fidus, and his loved Amata, were solemnizedin the presence of all their friends. 

Benefico passed the remainder of his days in pleasing reflections on hiswell-spent life. 

The treasures of the dead tyrant were turned into blessings by the usethey were now made of: little Mignon was loved and cherished by all hiscompanions. Peace, harmony and love reigned in every bosom; dissension, discord, and hatred were banished from this friendly dwelling; and thathappiness, which is the natural consequence of goodness, appeared inevery cheerful countenance throughout the castle of the good Benefico;and as heretofore affright and terror spread itself from the monster'shateful cave, so now from this peaceful castle was diffused tranquilityand joy through all the happy country round. 

Thus ended the story of the two giants: and Miss Jenny being tired withreading, they left the arbour for that night, and agreed to meet thereagain the next day. 

As soon as they had supped, Mrs. Teachum sent for Miss Jenny Peace intoher closet, and desired an exact account from her of this their firstday's amusement, that she might judge from thence how far they might betrusted with the liberty she had given them. 

Miss Jenny showed her governess the story she had read; and said, 'Ihope, madam, you will not think it an improper one; for it was givenme by my mamma; and she told me, that she thought it contained a veryexcellent moral. '

Mrs. Teachum, having looked it over, thus spoke: 'I have no objection, Miss Jenny, to your reading any stories to amuse you, provided you readthem with the proper disposition of mind not to be hurt by them. A verygood moral may indeed be drawn from the whole, and likewise from almostevery part of it; and as you had this story from your mamma, I doubt notbut you are very well qualified to make the proper remarks yourselfupon the moral of it to your companions. But here let me observe to you(which I would have you communicate to your little friends) that giants, magic, fairies, and all sorts of supernatural assistances in a story, are only introduced to amuse and divert: for a giant is called so onlyto express a man of great power; and the magic fillet round the statuewas intended only to show you, that by patience you will overcome alldifficulties. Therefore, by no means let the notion of giants or magicdwell upon your minds. And you may farther observe, that there isa different style adapted to every sort of writing; and the varioussounding epithets given to Barbarico are proper to express the ragingcruelty of his wicked mind. But neither this high-sounding language, northe supernatural contrivances in this story, do I so thoroughly approve, as to recommend them much to your reading; except, as I said before, great care is taken to prevent your being carried away, by thesehigh-flown things, from that simplicity of taste and manners which it ismy chief study to inculcate. '

Here Miss Jenny looked a little confounded; and, by her down-cast eye, showed a fear that she had incurred the disapprobation, if not thedispleasure, of her governess: upon which Mrs. Teachum thus proceeded:

'I do not intend by this, my dear, to blame you for what you have done;but only to instruct you how to make the best use of even the mosttrifling things: and if you have any more stories of this kind, withan equal good moral, when you are not better employed, I shall not beagainst your reading them; always remembering the cautions I have thisevening been giving you. '

Miss Jenny thanked her governess for her instructions, and kindindulgence to her, and promised to give her an exact account of theirdaily amusements; and, taking leave, retired to her rest. 

TUESDAY. THE SECOND DAY. 

That Miss Jenny's meeting with her companions in the morning, afterschool, she asked them how they liked the history of the giants? Theyall declared they thought it a very pretty diverting story. Miss Jennyreplied, though she was glad they were pleased, yet she would have themlook farther than the present amusement: 'for, ' continued she, 'my mammaalways taught me to understand what I read; otherwise, she said, it wasto no manner of purpose to read ever so many books, which would onlystuff my brain, without being any improvement to my mind. '

The misses all agreed, that certainly it was of no use to read, withoutunderstanding what they read; and began to talk of the story of thegiants, to prove they could make just remarks on it. 

Miss Sukey Jennett said, 'I am most pleased with that part of the storywhere the good Benefico cuts off the monster's head, and puts an endto his cruelty, especially as he was so sullen he would not confess hiswickedness; because, you know, Miss Jenny, if he had had sense enough tohave owned his error, and have followed the example of the good giant, he might have been happy. '

Miss Lucy Sly delivered the following opinion: 'My greatest joy waswhilst Mignon was tying the magic fillet round the monster's neck, andconquering him. '

'Now I (said Miss Dolly Friendly) am most pleased with that part of thestory, were Fidus and Amata meet the reward of their constancy and love, when they find each other after all their sufferings. '

Miss Polly Suckling said, with some eagerness, 'My greatest joy was inthe description of Mignon; and to think that it should be in the powerof that little creature to conquer such a great monster. '

Miss Patty Lockit, Miss Nanny Spruce, Miss Betty Ford, and Miss HennyFret, advanced no new opinions; but agreed some to one, and some toanother, of those that were already advanced. And as every one was eagerto maintain her own opinion, an argument followed, the particulars ofwhich I could never learn: only thus much I know, that it was concludedby Miss Lucy Sly, saying, with an air and tone of voice that impliedmore anger than had been heard since the reconciliation, that she wassure Miss Polly Suckling only liked that part about Mignon, because shewas the least in the school; and Mignon being such a little creature, put her in mind of herself. 

Miss Jenny Peace now began to be frighted, lest this contention shouldraise another quarrel; and therefore begged to be heard before they wentany farther. They were not yet angry enough to refuse hearing what shehad to say: and then Miss Jenny desired them to consider the moral ofthe story, and what use they might make of it, instead of contendingwhich was the prettiest part: 'For otherwise, ' continued she, 'I havelost my breath in reading to you; and you will be worse, rather thanbetter, for what you have heard. Pray observe, that Benefico's happinessarose entirely from his goodness: he had less strength, and less riches, than the cruel monster; and yet, by the good use he made of what hepossessed, you see how he turned all things to his advantage. Butparticularly remember, that the good little Mignon, in the momentthat he was patiently submitting to his sufferings, found a method ofrelieving himself from them, and of overcoming a barbarous monster, whohad so cruelly abused him. 

'Our good governess last night not only instructed me in this moral Iam now communicating to you, but likewise bid me warn you by no meansto let the notion of giants or magic to dwell upon your minds; for by agiant is meant no more than a man of great power; and the magic filletround the head of the statue was only intended to teach you, that by theassistance of patience you may overcome all difficulties. 

'In order therefore to make what you read of any use to you, you mustnot only think of it thus in general, but make the application toyourselves. For when (as now) instead of improving yourselves byreading, you make what you read a subject to quarrel about, what is thisless than being like the monster Barbarico, who turned his very richesto a curse? I am sure it is not following the example of Benefico, whomade everything a blessing to him. Remember, if you pinch and abuse adog or cat, because it is in your power, you are like the cruel Monster, when he abused the little Mignon, and said, I am a giant, and I can eat thee; Thou art a dwarf, and thou canst not eat me. 

'In short, if you will reap any benefit from this story towardsrendering you happy, whenever you have any power, you must follow theexample of the giant Benefico, and do good with it: and when you areunder any sufferings, like Mignon, you must patiently endure them tillyou can find a remedy: then, in one case, like Benefico, you will enjoywhat you possess; and, in the other, you will in time, like Mignon, overcome your sufferings: for the natural consequence of indulgingcruelty and revenge in the mind, even where there is the highest powerto gratify it, is misery. '

Here Miss Sukey Jennet interrupted Miss Jenny, saying, that she herselfhad experienced the truth of that observation in the former part of herlife: for she never had known either peace or pleasure, till she hadconquered in her mind the desire of hurting and being revenged on thosewho she thought did not by their behaviour show the same regard for her, that her own good opinion of herself made her think she deserved. MissJenny then asked her, if she was willing to lead the way to the rest ofher companions, by telling her past life? She answered, she would do itwith all her heart; and, by having so many and great faults to confess, she hoped she should, by her true confessions, set them an example ofhonesty and ingenuity. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS SUKEY JENNETT. 

Miss Sukey Jennett, who was next in years to Miss Jenny Peace, was notquite twelve years old; but so very tall of her age, that she was withina trifle as tall as Miss Jenny Peace; and, by growing so fast, wasmuch thinner: and though she was not really so well made, yet, from anassured air in her manner of carrying herself, she was called much thegenteelest girl. There was, on first view, a great resemblance in theirpersons. Her face was very handsome, and her complexion extremely good;but a little more inclined to pale than Miss Jenny's. Her eyes were adegree darker, and had a life and fire in them which was very beautiful:but yet her impatience on the least contradiction often brought afierceness into her eyes, and gave such a discomposure to her wholecountenance, as immediately took off your admiration. But her eyes hadnow, since her hearty reconciliation with her companions, lost a greatpart of their fierceness; and with great mildness, and an obligingmanner, she told her story as follows:

THE LIFE OF MISS SUKEY JENNETT. 

'My mamma died when I was so young that I cannot remember her; and mypapa marrying again within half a year after her death, I was chieflyleft to the care of an old servant, that had lived many years in thefamily. I was a great favourite of hers, and in everything had my ownway. When I was but four years old, if ever anything crossed me, I wastaught to beat it, and be revenged of it, even though it could notfeel. If I fell down and hurt myself, the very ground was to be beat forhurting the sweet child: so that, instead of fearing to fall, I did notdislike it; for I was pleased to find, that I was of such consequence, that everything was to take care that I came by no harm. 

'I had a little playfellow, in a child of one of my papa's servants, whowas to be entirely under my command. This girl I used to abuse and beat, whenever I was out of humour; and when I had abused her, if she daredto grumble, or make the least complaint, I thought it the greatestimpudence in the world; and, instead of mending my behaviour to her, I grew very angry that she should dare to dispute my power: for mygoverness always told her, that she was but a servant's girl, and I wasa gentleman's daughter; and that therefore she ought to give way to me;for that I did her great honour in playing with her. Thus I thought thedistance between us was so great, that I never considered that she couldfeel: but whilst I myself suffered nothing, I fancied everything wasvery right; and it never once came into my head, that I could be in thewrong. 

'This life I led till I came to school, when I was eleven yearsold. Here I had nobody in my power; for all my schoolfellows thoughtthemselves my equals: so that I could only quarrel, fight, and contendfor everything: but being liable to be punished, when I was trying to berevenged on any of my enemies, as I thought them, I never had a moment'sease or pleasure, till Miss Jenny was so good to take the pains toconvince me of my folly, and made me be reconciled to you, my dearcompanions. '

Here Miss Sukey ceased; and Miss Jenny smiled with pleasure, at thethoughts that she had been the cause of her happiness. 

Mrs. Teachum being now come into the arbour, to see in what mannerher little scholars passed their time, they all rose up and do herreverence. Miss Jenny gave her an account how they had been employed;and she was much pleased with their innocent and useful entertainment;but especially with the method they had found out of relating their pastlives. She took little Polly Suckling by the hand, and bidding the restfollow, it being now dinner time, she walked towards the house, attendedby the whole company. 

Mrs. Teachum had a great inclination to hear the history of the livesof all her little scholars: but she thought, that being present at thoserelations might be a balk to the narration, as perhaps they might beashamed freely to confess their past faults before her; and therefore, that she might not be any bar in this case to the freedom of theirspeech, and yet might be acquainted with their stories (though this wasnot merely a vain curiosity, but a desire by this means to know theirdifferent dispositions), she called Miss Jenny Peace to her parlourafter dinner, and told her, she would have her get the lives of hercompanions in writing, and bring them to her; and Miss Jenny readilypromised to obey her commands. 

In the evening our little company again met in their charming arbour;where they were no sooner seated, with that calmness and content whichnow always attended them, than the cries and sobs of a child, at alittle distance from their garden, disturbed their tranquility. 

Miss Jenny, ever ready to relieve the distressed, ran immediately tothe place whence the sound seemed to come, and was followed by all hercompanions: when, at a small distance from Mrs. Teachum's garden-wall, over which from the terrace our young company looked, they saw, under alarge spreading tree, part of the branches of which shaded a seat atthe end of that terrace, a middle-aged woman beating a little girl, wholooked to be about eight years old, so severely, that it was no wonderher cries had reached their arbour. 

Miss Jenny could not forbear calling out to the woman, and begging herto forbear: and little Polly Suckling cried as much as the girl, anddesired she might not be beat any more. The woman, in respect to them, let the child go; but said, 'Indeed, young ladies, you don't know whata naughty girl she is: for though you now see me correct her in thismanner, yet am I in all respects very kind to her, and never strike herbut for lying. I have tried all means, good and bad, to break her ofthis vile fault; but hitherto all I have done has been in vain: norcan I ever get one word of truth out of her mouth. But I am resolved tobreak her of this horrid custom, or I cannot live with her: for though Iam but poor, yet I will breed up my child to be honest, both in word anddeed. '

Miss Jenny could not but approve of what the poor woman said. However, they all joined in begging forgiveness for the girl this time, providedshe promised amendment for the future: and then our little societyreturned to their arbour. 

Miss Jenny could not help expressing her great detestation of all lyingwhatsoever; when Miss Dolly Friendly, colouring, confessed she had oftenbeen guilty of this fault, though she never scarcely did it but for herfriend. 

Here Miss Jenny, interrupting her, said, that even that was no sort ofexcuse for lying; besides that the habit of it on any occasion, evenwith the appearance of a good intention, would but too likely lead tothe use of it on many others: and as she did not doubt, by Miss Dolly'sblushing, that she was now very sensible of the truth of what she hadjust been saying, she hoped she would take this opportunity of obligingthem with the history of her past life: which request she made nohesitation to grant, saying, the shame of her past faults should by omeans induce her to conceal them. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS DOLLY FRIENDLY. 

Miss Dolly Friendly was just turned of eleven years of age. Her personwas neither plain nor handsome: and though she had not what is properlycalled one fine feature in her face, yet the disposition of them were sosuitable to each other, that her countenance was rather agreeable thanotherwise. She had generally something very quiet, or rather indolent, in her look, except when she was moved by anger; which seldom happened, but in defense of some favourite or friend; and she had then afierceness and eagerness which altered her whole countenance: for shecould not bear the least reflection or insult on those she loved. Thisdisposition made her always eager to comply with her friends' requests;and she immediately began, as follows:

THE LIFE OF MISS DOLLY FRIENDLY. 

'I was bred up, till I was nine years of age, with a sister, who was oneyear younger than myself. The chief care of our parents was to make uslove each other; and, as I was naturally inclined to have very strongaffections, I became so fond of my sister Molly, which was her name, that all my delight was to please her; and this I carried to such aheight, that I scrupled no lies to excuse her faults: and whatever shedid, I justified, and thought right, only because she did it. 

'I was ready to fight her quarrels, whether right or wrong; and hatedeverybody that offended her. My parents winked at whatever I did indefence of my sister; and I had no notion that any thing done for hercould be unreasonable. In short, I made it my study to oblige and pleaseher, till I found at last it was out of my power; for she grew so veryhumoursome, that she could not find out what she had most mind to have;and I found her always miserable; for she would cry only because she didnot know her own mind. 

'She never minded what faults she committed, because she knew I wouldexcuse her; and she was forgiven in consideration of our friendship, which gave our parents great pleasure. 

'My poor little sister grew very sickly, and she died just before Icame to school: but the same disposition still continued; and it was myfriend's outcries of being hurt, that drew me into that odious quarrel, that we have all now repented. '

Here Miss Dolly Friendly ceased; and Miss Jenny said, she hoped MissDolly would remember, for the rest of her life, what HER good mamma hadalways taught her; namely, that it was not the office of friendship, tojustify or excuse our friend when in the wrong; for that was the wayto prevent their ever being in the right: that it was rather hatred, or contempt, than love, when the fear of another's anger made us foregotheir good, for the sake of our own present pleasure; and that thefriends who expected such flattery were not worth keeping. 

The bell again summoned our little company to supper: but, before theywent in, Miss Dolly Friendly said, if Miss Jenny approved of it, shewould the next morning read them a story given her by an uncle ofhers, that, she said, she was sure would please her, as its subject wasfriendship. Miss Jenny replied, that she was certain it would be a greatpleasure to them all, to hear any story Miss Dolly thought proper toread them. 

WEDNESDAY. THE THIRD DAY. 

As soon as school was over in the morning, our little company wereimpatient to go into the arbour, to hear Miss Dolly's story: butMrs. Teachum told them they must be otherwise employed; for theirwriting-master, who lived some miles off; and who was expected in theafternoon, was just then come in, and begged that they would give himtheir attendance, though out of school-time; because he was obliged tobe at home again before the afternoon, to meet a person who would confersome favour on him, and would be highly disobliged should he not keephis appointment: 'And I know (said Mrs. Teachum) my little dears, youwould rather lose your own amusement, than let any one suffer areal inconvenience on your accounts. ' They all readily complied, andcheerfully set to their writing; and in the afternoon Mrs. Teachumpermitted them to leave off work an hour sooner than usual, as a rewardfor their readiness to lose their amusement in the morning: and beingmet in their arbour, Miss Dolly read as follows:

THE STORY OF CAELIA AND CHLOE. 

Caelia and Chloe were both left orphans, at the tender age of six years. Amanda their aunt, who was very rich, and a maiden, took them directlyunder her care, and bred them up as her own children. Caelia's motherwas Amanda's sister; and Chloe's father was her brother; so that she wasequally related to both. 

They were left entirely unprovided for; were both born on the same day;and both lost their mothers on the day of their birth: their fatherswere soldiers of fortune; and both killed in one day, in the fameengagement. But their fortunes were not more similar than their personsand dispositions. They were both extremely handsome; and in theirChildhood were so remarkable for liveliness of parts, and sweetness oftemper, that they were the admiration of the whole country where theylived. 

Their aunt loved them with a sincere and equal affection, and took thegreatest pleasure imaginable in their education, and particularly toencourage that love and friendship which she with pleasure perceivedbetween them. Amanda being (as was said) very rich, and having no otherrelations, it was supposed that these her nieces would be very greatfortunes; and as soon as they became women, they were addressed by allthe men of fortune and no fortune round the neighbourhood. But as thelove of admiration, and a desire of a large train of admirers, hadno place in their minds, they soon dismissed, in the most civil andobliging manner, one after another, all these lovers. 

The refusing such numbers of men, and some such as by the world werecalled good offers, soon got them the name of jilts; and by that meansthey were freed from any farther importunity, and for some years enjoyedthat peace and quiet they had long wished. Their aunt, from being theirmother and their guardian, was now become their friend. For, as sheendeavoured not in the least to force their inclinations, they neverkept anything concealed from her; and every action of their lives wasstill guided by her advice and approbation. 

They lived on in this way, perfectly happy in their own littlecommunity, till they were about two-and-twenty years old when therehappened to be a regiment quartered in the neighbouring town, to whichtheir house was nearly situated; and the lieutenant-colonel, a man aboutfour-and-thirty years old, hearing their names, had a great desire tosee them. For when he was a boy of sixteen, he was put into the Armyunder the care of Chloe's father, who treated him with the greatesttenderness; and (in that fatal engagement in which he lost his life)received his death's wound by endeavouring to save him from being takenby the enemy. And gratitude to the memory of so good a friend was asgreat an inducement to make him desire to see his daughter, as thereport he had heard both of hers and her cousin's great beauty. 

Sempronius (for so this Colonel was called) was a very sensible, well-bred, agreeable man; and from the circumstances of his formeracquaintance, and his present proper and polite behaviour, he soonbecame very intimate in the family. The old lady was particularlypleased with him; and secretly wished, that before she died she mightbe so happy as to see one of her nieces married to Sempronius. She couldnot from his behaviour see the least particular liking to either, thoughhe showed an equal and very great esteem and regard for both. 

He in reality liked them both extremely; and the reason of making nodeclaration of love was, his being so undetermined in any preferencethat was due to either. He saw plainly that he was very agreeable toboth; and with pleasure he observed, that they made use of none of thosearts which women generally do to get away a disputed lover: and thissincere friendship which subsisted between them raised in him thehighest degree of love and admiration. However he at last determined tomake the following trial:

He went first to Chloe, and (finding her alone) told her, that he hadthe greatest liking in the world to her cousin; and had really a mindto propose himself to her: but as he saw a very great friendship betweenthem, he was willing to ask her advice in the matter; and conjured herto tell him sincerely, whether there was anything in Caelia's temper(not discoverable by him) which as a wife would make him unhappy? Hetold her, that, if she knew any such thing, it would be no treachery, but rather kind in her to declare it, as it would prevent her friend'sbeing unhappy; which must be the consequence, in marriage, of her makinghim so. 

Chloe could not help seeing very plainly, that if Caelia was removed shestood the very next in Sempronius's favour. Her lover was present--herfriend was absent--and the temptation was too strong and agreeable to beresisted. She then answered, that since he insisted upon the truth, andhad convinced her that it was in reality acting justly and kindly by herfriend, she must confess, that Caelia was possessed (though in a verysmall degree) of what she had often heard him declare most against ofanything in the world; and that was, an artfulness of temper, and somefew sparks of envy. 

Chloe's confused manner of speaking, and frequent hesitation, asunwilling to pronounce her friend's condemnation (which, as beingunused to falsehood, was really unaffected) he imputed to tendernessand concern for Caelia; but he did not in the least doubt, but on hisapplication to her he should soon be convinced of the truth of whatChloe had said. 

He then went directly to the arbour at the end of the garden, and thereto his wish he found Caelia quite alone; and he addressed her exactly inthe same manner concerning her cousin, as he had before spoke to Chloeconcerning her. Caelia suddenly blushed (from motives I leave those tofind out who can put themselves in her circumstances) and then fetched asoft sigh, from the thought that she was hearing a man she loved declarea passion of which she was not the object. But after some littlepause, she told him, that if Chloe had any faults, they were to her yetundiscovered, and she really and sincerely believed her cousin wouldmake him extremely happy. Sempronius then said, that of all otherthings, TREACHERY and ENVY were what he had the greatest dislike to: andhe asked her, if she did not think her cousin was a little tainted withthese?--Here Caelia could not help interrupting, and assuring him, thatshe believed her totally free from both. And, from his casting onher friend an aspersion which her very soul abhorred, forgetting allrivalship, she could not refrain from growing quite lavish in herpraise. 'Suppose then (said Sempronius) I was to say the same to yourcousin concerning my intentions towards you as I have to you concerningher, do you think she would say as many fine things in your praise asyou have done in hers?'

Caelia answered, that she verily believed her cousin would say as muchfor her as she really deserved; but whether that would be equal to whatwith justice she could say of Chloe, her modesty left her in some doubtof. 

Sempronius had too much penetration not to see the real and truedifference in the behaviour of these two women, and could not helpcrying out, 'O Caelia! your honest truth and goodness in every word andlook are too visible to leave me one doubt of their reality. But, couldyou believe it? this friend of yours is false. I have already put herto the trial, by declaring to her my sincere and unalterable passionfor you. When, on my insisting, as I did to you, upon her speaking thetruth, she accused you of what nothing should now convince me you areguilty of. I own, that hitherto my regard, esteem, and love, have beenequal to both; but now I offer to the sincere, artless, and charmingCaelia, my whole heart, love, and affection, and the service of everyminute of my future life; and from this moment I banish from my mind thefalse and ungrateful Chloe. '

Caelia's friendship for Chloe was so deeply rooted in her breast, thateven a declaration of love from Sempronius could not blot it one momentfrom her heart; and on his speaking the words 'false Chloe, ' she burstinto tears, and said, 'Is it possible that Chloe should act such a parttowards her Caelia! You must forgive her, Sempronius: it was her violentpassion for you, and fear of losing you, which made her do what hithertoher nature has ever appeared averse to. '

Sempronius answered, 'that he could not enough admire her goodness toher friend Chloe; but such proofs of passion, he said, were to him atthe same time proofs of its being such a passion as he had no regardfor; since it was impossible for any one to gain or increase his loveby an action which at the same time lessened his esteem. ' This was soexactly Caelia's own way of thinking, that she could not but assent towhat he said. 

But just as they were coming out of the arbour, Chloe, unseen by them, passed by; and from seeing him kiss her hand, and the complacency ofCaelia's look, it was easy for her to guess what had been the resultof their private conference. She could not however help indulging hercuriosity, so far as to walk on the other side of a thick yew hedge, tolisten to their discourse; and as they walked on, she heard Semproniusentreat Caelia to be cheerful, and think no more of her treacherousfriend, whose wickedness he doubted not would sufficiently punishitself. She then heard Caelia say, 'I cannot bear, Sempronius, to hearyou speak so hardly of my Chloe. Say that you forgive her, and I willindeed be cheerful. '

Nothing upon earth can be conceived so wretched as poor Chloe, for onthe first moment that she suffered herself to reflect on what she haddone, she thoroughly repented, and heartily detested herself forsuch baseness. She went directly into the garden in hopes of meetingSempronius, to have thrown herself at his feet, confessed her treachery, and to have begged him never to have mentioned it to Caelia; but now shewas conscious her repentance would come too late; and he would despiseher, if possible still more, for such a recantation, after her knowledgeof what had passed between him and Caelia. 

She could indeed have gone to him, and not have owned what she had seenor heard; but now her abhorrence of even the appearance of treachery orcunning was so great, that she could not bear to add the smallest grainof falsehood or deceit to the weight of her guilt, which was alreadyalmost insupportable: and should she tell him of her repentance, with aconfession of her knowledge of his engagement with Caelia, it would (ashas been before observed) appear both servile and insincere. 

Nothing could now appear so altered as the whole face of this once happyfamily. Sempronius as much as possible shunned the sight of Chloe; foras she was the cause of all the confusion amongst them, he had almost anaversion to her. Though he was not of an implacable temper, yet, as theinjury was intended to one he sincerely loved, he found it much harderto forgive it, than if it had even succeeded against himself; and as hestill looked upon Chloe as the cause of melancholy in his dear Caelia, he could hardly have any patience with her. 

No words can describe the various passions which were expressed in thesad countenance of Chloe, when first she met her friend. They were bothafraid of speaking. Shame, and the fear of being (and with too goodreason) suspected of insincerity, withheld Chloe; and an unwillingnessto accuse or hurt her friend withheld the gentle Caelia. She sometimesindeed thought she saw repentance in Chloe's face, and wished fornothing more than to seal her pardon. But till it was asked, she wasin doubt (from what had passed) whether such pardon and profferedreconciliation might not be rejected. She knew that her friend'spassions were naturally stronger than hers; and she therefore trembledat the consequences of coming to an explanation. 

But there was hardly a greater sufferer in this scene of confusion thanthe poor old Lady Amanda. She saw a sort of horror and wildness in theface of Chloe; and in Caelia's a settled melancholy, and such an unusualreserve in both towards each other, as well as to herself, as quiteastonished her. 

Sempronius came indeed to the house as often as usual; but in hiscountenance she could perceive a sort of anger and concern whichperfectly frightened her. But as they did not speak to her, she couldnot bring herself to ask the cause of this woeful change, for fear ofhearing something too bad to bear. 

Caelia had absolutely refused granting to Sempronius leave to ask heraunt's consent, till she should come to some explanation with Chloe, which seemed every day farther off than ever. 

The great perturbation of Chloe's mind threw her into a disorder notmany degrees short of madness; and at last she was seized with a violentfever so as to keep her bed. She said she could not bear to look onAmanda; but begged Caelia to be with her as much as possible; which shedid, in hopes of bringing herself to ease her mind, by speaking to herof what had given them all this torment. 

Caelia watched with her night and day for three days, when the physicianwho attended her pronounced that there was no hope of her life. Caeliacould not any longer bear to stay in the room, and went downstairs, expecting every moment to hear she was expired. 

Chloe soon perceived by Caelia's abrupt leaving the room, and the looksof those who were left in it, that her fate was pronounced; which, instead of sinking her spirits, and making her dejected, gave atranquillity to her mind; for she thought within herself, 'I shall nowmake my dear cousin happy, by removing out of her way an object thatmust embitter all her joy; and now likewise, as she is convinced I am onmy death-bed, she will once more believe me capable of speaking truth;and will, in the manner I could wish, receive my sincere repentance. 'Then sending for Caelia up to her bedside, she in a weak voice, withhardly strength for utterance, spoke in this manner: 'My dear Caelia, though you know me to be a worthless base wretch, yet do not think sohardly of me, as to imagine I would deceive you with my last breath. Believe me then when I tell you, that I sincerely repent of my treacherytowards you; and as sincerely rejoice that it has in reality beenthe cause of your happiness with Sempronius. Tell him this; and then, perhaps, he will not hate my memory. ' Here she fainted away, and theyforced Caelia out of the room, thinking her breath was for ever flown. But in some time she came again to herself, and cried out, 'What! wouldnot my dear Caelia say that she forgave me? Methinks I would not die, till I had obtained her pardon. She is too good to refuse her friendthis last request. ' Her attendants then told her, that seeing her faintaway, they had forced Caelia out of the room; and they begged her to tryto compose herself, for they were sure that seeing her friend again, atthis time, would only disturb her mind, and do her an injury. 

Chloe, from the vent she had given her grief in speaking to Caelia, found herself something more easy and composed; and desiring the room tobe made perfectly quiet, she fell into a gentle sleep, which lasted twohours; and when she awaked she found herself so much better, that thoseabout her were convinced, from her composed manner of speaking, that shewas now able to bear another interview. 

They again called for Caelia, and told her of her cousin's amendment. She flew with all speed to her chamber; and the moment she entered, Chloe cried out, 'Can you forgive me, Caelia?' 'Yes, with the greatestjoy and sincerity imaginable, my dearest Chloe, ' answered Caelia, 'andnever let it be again mentioned or remembered. '

The sudden recovery of Chloe was almost incredible; for in less than aweek she was able to quit both her bed and room, and go into her aunt'schamber. The good old lady shed tears of joy, to see such a return ofChloe's health, and of cheerfulness in the family; and was perfectlycontented, now she saw their melancholy removed, not to inquire into thelate cause of it, for fear of renewing their trouble even one moment bythe remembrance of it. 

Sempronius, in the meantime, upon some affairs of his duty in the army, had been called away, and was absent the whole time of Chloe's illness, and was not yet returned. Caelia spent almost her whole time with Chloe;but three weeks passed on, and they were often alone; yet they had neveronce mentioned the name of Sempronius, which laid Caelia still underthe greatest difficulty how to act, so as to avoid giving her friend anyuneasiness, and yet not disoblige Sempronius; for she had promisedhim at his departure, that she would give him leave to ask her aunt'sconsent immediately upon his return. But the very day he was expected, she was made quite easy by what passed between her and her friend. 

Chloe, in this time, by proper reflections, and a due sense of Caelia'sgreat goodness and affection to her, had so entirely got the betterof herself in this affair, that she found she could now, without anyuneasiness, see them married; and calling Caelia to her, she said with asmile, 'I have, my dear friend, been so long accustomed to read in thatintelligible index, your countenance, all your most inmost thoughts, that I have not been unobserving of those kind fears you have had onmy account; and the reason I have so long delayed speaking was, myresolution, if possible, never again to deceive you. I can with pleasurenow assure you, that nothing can give me so much joy as to see yourwedding with Sempronius. I make no doubt, but if you ask it, you willhave my aunt's consent; and, if any intercession should be wantingtowards obtaining it, I will (if you can trust me) use all my influencein your behalf. Be assured, my dear Caelia, I have now no farther regardleft for Sempronius, than as your husband; and that regard will increasein proportion as he is the cause of your happiness. '

They were interrupted in their discourse by news being brought ofthe arrival of Sempronius, and Chloe received him with that ease andcheerfulness as convinced Caelia her professions were unfeigned. 

Caelia related to Sempronius all that had passed between her andChloe; and by her continued cheerfulness of behaviour, the peace andtranquillity of the family was perfectly restored, and their joy greatlyincreased by Amanda's ready consent to the marriage of Sempronius andCaelia, having first settled all her fortune to be divided at her deathequally between her nieces; and in her lifetime there was no occasion ofsettlements, or deeds of gift, for they lived all together, and separateproperty was not so much as mentioned or thought on in this family ofharmony and peace. 

Here Miss Dolly ceased reading; and all her hearers sat some little timesilent, and then expressed their great joy that Caelia and Chloe were atlast happy; for none of them had been able to refrain from tears whilstthey were otherwise. On which Miss Jenny Peace begged them to observefrom this story, the miserable effects that attend deceit and treachery:'For, ' continued she, 'you see you could not refrain from tears, only byimagining what Chloe must feel after her wickedness (by which indeed shelost the very happiness she intended treacherously to gain); nor couldshe enjoy one moment's peace, till by confessing her fault, andheartily repenting of it, her mind was restored to its former calm andtranquility. ' Miss Dolly thanked Miss Jenny for her remarks; but MissLucy Sly was most sensibly touched with this story, as cunning hadformerly entirely possessed HER mind; and said, that if her companionswere not weary at present of their arbour, she would now recount to themthe history of her life, as this story was a proper introduction to it. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS LUCY SLY. 

Miss Lucy Sly was of the same age as Miss Dolly Friendly; but shorter, at least, by half the head. She was generally called a pretty girl, from having a pair of exceeding fine black eyes, only with the allay ofsomething cunning in their look. She had a high forehead, and very goodcurling black hair. She had a sharp high nose, and a very small mouth. Her complexion was but indifferent, and the lower part of her faceill-turned, for her chin was too long for due proportion. 

THE LIFE OF MISS LUCY SLY. 

From the time I was two years old, (said Miss Lucy) my mamma was sosickly, that she was unable to take any great care of me herself, and Iwas left to the care of a governess, who made it her study to bring meto do what she had a mind to have done, without troubling her head whatinduced me so to do. And whenever I did anything wrong, she used to sayit was the foot-boy, and not miss, that was naughty. Nay, she would say, it was the dog, or the cat, or anything she could lay the blame upon, sooner than own it was me. I thought this pure, that I was never infault; and soon got into a way of telling any lies, and of laying my ownfaults on others, since I found I should be believed. I remember once, when I had broken a fine china-cup, that I artfully got out of thescrape, and hid the broken cup in the foot-boy's room. He was whippedfor breaking it; and the next day whilst I was at play about the room, I heard my governess say to a friend who was with her, "Yesterday MissLucy broke a china-cup; but the artful little hussy went and hid itin the foot-boy's room, and the poor boy was whipped for it. I don'tbelieve there was ever a girl of her age that had half her cunning andcontrivance. " I knew by her tone of voice, and her manner of speaking, that she did not blame me in her heart, but rather commended myingenuity. And I thought myself so wise, that I could thus get off theblame from myself, that I every day improved in new inventions to savemyself, and have others punished in my place. 

'This life of endeavouring to deceive I led till I came to school. Buthere I found that I could not so well carry on my little schemes; for Iwas found out and punished for my own faults; and this created in me ahatred to my companions. For whatever Miss I had a mind to serve as Iused to serve our foot-boy, in laying the blame falsely upon her, if shecould justify herself, and prove me in the wrong, I was very angry withher, for daring to contradict me, and not submitting as quietly to bepunished wrongfully, as the foot-boy was forced to do. 

'This is all I know of my life hitherto. '

Thus ended Miss Lucy Sly: and Miss Jenny Peace commended Miss Lucy forher free confession of her faults, and said, 'She doubted not but shewould find the advantage of amending, and endeavouring to change adisposition so very pernicious to her own peace and quiet, as well asto that of all her friends;' but they now obeyed the summons of thesupper-bell, and soon after retired to rest. 

THURSDAY. THE FOURTH DAY. 

Our little company, as soon as the morning school-hours were over, hastened to their arbour, and were attentive to what Miss Jenny Peaceshould propose to them for their amusement till dinner-time; when MissJenny, looking round upon them, said, 'that she had not at present anystory to read; but that she hoped, from Miss Dolly Friendly's exampleyesterday, some of the rest might endeavour sometimes to furnish outthe entertainment of the day. ' Upon which Miss Sukey Jennett said, 'that though she could not promise them such an agreeable story as MissDolly's; yet she would read them a letter she had received the eveningbefore from her Cousin Peggy Smith, who lived at York; in which therewas a story that she thought very strange and remarkable. They were allvery desirous of it, when Miss Sukey read as follows:

'Dear cousin, --I promised, you know, to write to you when I had anythingto tell you; and as I think the following story very extraordinary, Iwas willing to keep my word. 

'Some time ago there came to settle in this city, a lady, whose name wasDison. We all visited her: but she had so deep a melancholy, arising, asit appeared, from a settled state of ill health, that nothing we coulddo could afford her the least relief, or make her cheerful. In thiscondition she languished amongst us five years, still continuing to growworse and worse. 

'We all grieved at her fate. Her flesh was withered away; her appetitedecayed by degrees, till all food became nauseous to her sight; herstrength failed her; her feet could not support her tottering body, lean and worn away as it was; and we hourly expected her death. When, atlast, she one day called her most intimate friends to her bedside, and, as well as she could, spoke to the following purpose: "I know you allpity me; but, alas! I am not so much the object of your pity, as yourcontempt; for all my misery is of my own seeking, and owing to thewickedness of my own mind. I had two sisters, with whom I was bred up;and I have all my lifetime been unhappy, for no other cause but fortheir success in the world. When we were young, I could neither eat norsleep in peace, when they had either praise or pleasure. When we grewup to be women, they were both soon married much to their advantage andsatisfaction. This galled me to the heart; and, though I had severalgood offers, yet as I did not think them in all respects equal to mysisters, I would not accept them; and yet was inwardly vexed to refusethem, for fear I would get no better. I generally deliberated so longthat I lost my lovers, and then I pined for that loss. I never wantedfor anything; and was in a situation in which I might have been happy, if I pleased. My sisters loved me very well, for I concealed as muchas possible from them my odious envy; and yet never did any poor wretchlead so miserable a life as I have done; for every blessing they enjoyedwas as so many daggers to my heart. 'Tis this envy that has caused allmy ill health, has preyed upon my very vitals, and will now bring me tomy Grave. "

'In a few days after this confession she died; and her words and deathmade such a strong impression on my mind, that I could not help sendingyou this relation; and begging you, my dear Sukey, to remember howcareful we ought to be to curb in our minds the very first risings of apassion so detestable, and so fatal, as this proved to poor Mrs. Dison. I know I have no particular reason for giving you this caution; for Inever saw anything in you, but what deserved the love and esteem of

'Your very affectionate cousin, 'M. SMITH. '

As soon as Miss Sukey had finished her letter, Miss Patty Lockit roseup, and, flying to Miss Jenny Peace, embraced her, and said, 'Whatthanks can I give you, my dear friend, for having put me into a way ofexamining my heart, and reflecting on my own actions; by which you havesaved me, perhaps, from a life as miserable as that of the poor womanin Miss Sukey's letter!' Miss Jenny did not thoroughly understand hermeaning; but imagining it might be something relating to her past life, desired her to explain herself; which she said she would do, tellingnow, in her turn, all that had hitherto happened to her. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS PATTY LOCKIT. 

Miss Patty Lockit was but ten years old; tall, inclined to fat. Herneck was short; and she was not in the least genteel. Her face was veryhandsome; for all her features were extremely good. She had large blueeyes; was exceeding fair; and had a great bloom on her cheeks. Her hairwas the very first degree of light brown; was bright and shining; andhung in ringlets half way down her back. Her mouth was rather too large;but she had such fine teeth, and looked so agreeably when she smiled, that you was not sensible of any fault in it. 

This was the person of Miss Patty Lockit, who was slow to relate herpast life; which she did, in the following manner:

THE LIFE OF MISS PATTY LOCKIT. 

I lived, till I was six years old, in a very large family; for I hadfour sisters, all older than myself, and three brothers. We playedtogether, and passed our time much in the common way: sometimes wequarrelled, and sometimes agreed, just as accident would have it. Ourparents had no partiality to any of us; so we had no cause to envy oneanother on that account; and we lived tolerably well together. 

'When I was six years old, my grandmother by my father's side (andwho was also my godmother) offering to take me to live with her, andpromising to look upon me as her own child, and entirely to providefor me, my father and mother, as they had a large family, very readilyaccepted her offer, and sent me directly to her house. 

'About half a year before this, she had taken another goddaughter, theonly child of my Aunt Bradly, who was lately dead, and whose husband wasgone to the West Indies. My cousin, Molly Bradly, was four years olderthan I; and her mother had taken such pains in her education, that theunderstood more than most girls of her age; and had so much liveliness, good humour, and ingenuity, that everybody was fond of her; and whereverwe went together, all the notice was taken of my cousin, and I was verylittle regarded. 

'Though I had all my life before lived in a family where every one in itwas older, and knew more than myself, yet I was very easy; for we weregenerally together in the nursery; and nobody took much notice of us, whether we knew anything, or whether we did not. But now, as I livedin the house with only one companion, who was so much more admired thanmyself, the comparison began to vex me, and I found a strong hatred andaversion for my cousin arising in my mind; and yet, I verily believe Ishould have got the better of it, and been willing to have learnt of mycousin, and should have loved her for teaching me, if any one had toldme it was right; and if it had not been that Betty, the maid who tookcare of us, used to be for ever teasing me about the preference that wasshown to my cousin, and the neglect I always met with. She used to tellme, that she wondered how I could bear to see Miss Molly so caressed;and that it was want of spirit not to think myself as good as she was;and, if she was in my place, she would not submit to be taught by achild; for my Cousin Molly frequently offered to instruct me in anythingshe knew; but I used to say (as Betty had taught me) that I would notlearn of her; for she was but a child, though she was a little older;and that I was not put under her care, but that of my grandmamma. Butshe, poor woman, was so old and unhealthy, that she never troubled herhead much about us, but only to take care that we wanted for nothing. Ilived in this manner three years, fretting and vexing myself that I didnot know so much, nor was not so much liked, as my Cousin Molly, and yetresolving not to learn anything she could teach me; when my grandmammawas advised to send me to school; but, as soon as I came here, the casewas much worse; for, instead of one person to envy, I found many;for all my schoolfellows had learned more than I; and, instead ofendeavouring to get knowledge, I began to hate all those who knew morethan myself; and this, I am now convinced, was owing to that odiousenvy, which, if not cured, would always have made me as miserable asMrs. Dison was and which constantly tormented me, till we came to livein that general peace and good-humour we have lately enjoyed: and as Ihope this wicked spirit was not natural to me, but only blown up bythat vile Betty's instigations, I don't doubt but I shall now growvery happy, and learn something every day, and be pleased with beinginstructed, and that I shall always love those who are so good as toinstruct me. '

Here Miss Patty Lockit ceased; and the dinner-bell called them fromtheir arbour. 

Mrs. Teachum, as soon as they had dined, told them, that she thoughtit proper they would use some bodily exercise, that they might not, by sitting constantly still, impair their health. Not but that she wasgreatly pleased with their innocent and instructive manner of employingtheir leisure hours; but this wise woman knew that the faculties of themind grow languid and useless, when the health of the body is lost. 

As soon as they understood their governess's pleasure, they readilyresolved to obey her commands, and desired that, after school, theymight take a walk as far as the dairy house, to eat some curds andcream. Mrs. Teachum not only granted their request, but said she woulddispense with their school-attendance that afternoon, in order to givethem more time for their walk, which was between two and three miles;and she likewise added, that she herself would go with them. They allflew like lightning to get their hats, and to equip themselves for theirwalk; and, with cheerful countenances, attended Mrs. Teachum in theschoolroom. This good gentlewoman, so far from laying them under arestraint by her presence, encouraged them to run in the fields, andto gather flowers; which they did, each miss trying to get the bestto present to her governess. In this agreeable manner, with laughing, talking, and singing, they arrived at the dairy-house, before theyimagined they had walked a mile. 

There lived at this dairy-house an old woman, near seventy years of age. She had a fresh colour in her face; but was troubled with the palsy, that made her head shake a little. She was bent forward with age, andher hair was quite grey: but she retained much good-humour, and receivedthis little party with hearty welcome. 

Our little gentry flocked about this good woman, asking her a thousandquestions. Miss Polly Suckling asked her, 'Why she shook her head so?'and Miss Patty Lockit said, 'She hoped her hair would never be of such acolour. '

Miss Jenny Peace was afraid they would say something that would offendthe old woman, and advised them to turn their discourse. 'Oh! let thedear rogues alone, ' says the old woman; 'I like their prattle;' and, taking Miss Polly by the hand, said, 'Come, my dear, we will go intothe dairy, and skim the milk pans. ' At which words they all run into thedairy, and some of them dipped their fingers in the cream; which whenMrs. Nelly perceived (who was the eldest daughter of the old woman, and who managed all the affairs) she desired they would walk out of thedairy, and she would bring them what was fit for them: upon which MissDolly Friendly said, 'she had rather be as old and good-natured as themother, than as young and ill-natured as the daughter. '

The old woman desired her company to sit down at a long table, whichshe soon supplied with plenty of cream, strawberries, brown bread, andsugar. Mrs. Teachum took her place at the upper end, and the rest satdown in their usual order, and eat plentifully of these good things. After which, Mrs. Teachum told them they might walk out and see thegarden and orchard, and by that time it would be proper to return home. 

The good old woman showed them the way into the garden; and gathered thefinest roses and pinks she could pick, and gave them to Miss Polly, towhom she had taken a great Fancy. 

At their taking leave, Mrs. Teachum rewarded the good old woman for hertrouble; who, on her part, expressed much pleasure in feeing so manywell-behaved young ladies; and said, she hoped they would come often. 

These little friends had not walked far in their way home, before theymet a miserable ragged fellow, who begged their charity. Our youngfolks immediately gathered together about this poor creature, and werehearkening very earnestly to his story, which he set forth in a terriblemanner, of having been burnt out of his house, and, from one distressto another, reduced to that miserable state they saw him in, when Mrs. Teachum came up to them. She was not a little pleased to see allthe misses' hands in their pockets, pulling out half-pence, and somesixpences. She told them, she approved of their readiness to assist thepoor fellow, as he appeared to them; but oftentimes those fellows madeup dismal stories without much foundation, and because they were lazy, and would not work. Miss Dolly said, indeed she believed the poorman spoke truth; for he looked honest; and, besides, he seemed almoststarved. 

Mrs. Teachum told them it would be late before they could get home;so, after each of them had given what they thought proper, they pursuedtheir walk, prattling all the way. 

They got home about nine o'clock; and, as they did not choose anysupper, the bell rang for prayers; after which our young travellersretired to their rest, where we doubt not but they had a good repose. 

FRIDAY. THE FIFTH DAY. 

Mrs. Teachum, in the morning, inquired how her scholars did aftertheir walk, and was pleased to hear they were all very well. They thenperformed their several tasks with much cheerfulness; and, after theschool-hours, they were hastening, as usual, to their arbour, when MissJenny desired them all to go thither without her, and she would soonfollow them; which they readily consented to; but begged her not todeprive them long of the pleasure of her sweet company. 

Miss Jenny then went directly into her governess's parlour, and told herthat she had some thoughts of reading to her companions a fairy tale, which was also given her by her mamma; and though it was not in such apompous style, nor so full of wonderful images, as the giant-story;yet she would not venture to read anything of that kind without herpermission; but, as she had not absolutely condemned all that sortof writing, she hoped she was not guilty of a fault in asking thatpermission. Mrs. Teachum, with a gracious smile, told her, that sheseemed so thoroughly well to understand the whole force of her Mondaynight's discourse to her, that she might be trusted almost in anything;and desired her to go and follow her own judgment and inclinations inthe amusement of her happy friends. Miss Jenny, overjoyed with this kindcondescension in her governess, thanked her, with, a low courtesy, andsaid, she hoped she should never do anything unworthy of the confidencereposed on her; and, hastening to the arbour, she there found all herlittle companions quite impatient of this short absence. 

Miss Jenny told them, that she had by her a fairy-tale, which, if theyliked it, she would read; and, as it had pleased her, she did not doubtbut it would give them equal pleasure. 

It was the custom now so much amongst them to assent to any proposalthat came from Miss Jenny, that they all with one voice desired herto read it; till Miss Polly Suckling said, 'that although she was veryunwilling to contradict anything Miss Jenny liked, yet she could nothelp saying, she thought it would be better if they were to read sometrue history, from which they might learn something; for she thoughtfairy-tales were fit only for little children. 

Miss Jenny could not help smiling at such an objection's coming fromthe little dumpling, who was not much above seven years of age; and thensaid, 'I will tell you a story, my little Polly, of what happened to mewhilst I was at home. 

'There came into our village, when I was six years old, a man whocarried about a raree-show, which all the children of the parish werefond of seeing; but I had taken it into my head, that it was beneath mywisdom to see raree-shows; and therefore would not be persuaded tojoin my companions to see this sight; and although I had as great aninclination as any of them to see it, yet I avoided it, in order toboast of my own great sense, in that I was above such trifles. 

'When my mamma asked me, why I would not see the show, when she hadgiven me leave? I drew up my head, and said, "Indeed I did not likeraree-shows. That I had been reading; and I thought that much moreworth my while, than to lose my time at such foolish entertainments. "My mamma, who saw the cause of my refusing this amusement was only apretence of being wise, laughed, and said, "She herself had seen it, and it was really very comical and diverting. " On hearing this, I washeartily vexed to think I had denied myself a pleasure, which I fanciedwas beneath me, when I found even my mamma was not above seeing it. Thisin a great measure cured me of the folly of thinking myself above anyinnocent amusement. And when I grew older, and more capable of hearingreason, my mamma told me, "She had taken this method of laughing at me, as laughing is the proper manner of treating affectation; which of allthings, she said, she would have me carefully avoid; otherwise, wheneverI was found out, I should become contemptible. "'

Here Miss Jenny ceased speaking; and Miss Polly Suckling, blushing thatshe had made any objection to what Miss Jenny had proposed, begged herto begin the fairy tale; when just at that instant, Mrs. Teachum, whohad been taking a walk in the garden, turned into the arbour to delightherself with a view of her little school united in harmony and love, andMiss Jenny, with great good humour, told her mistress the small contestshe had just had with Miss Polly about reading a fairy tale, and theoccasion of it. Mrs. Teachum kindly chucking the little dumpling underthe chin, said, she had so good an opinion of Miss Jenny, as to answerfor her, that she would read nothing to them but what was proper; andadded, that she herself would stay and hear this fairy tale which MissJenny, on her commands, immediately began. 

THE PRINCESS HEBE. A FAIRY TALE. 

Above two thousand years ago, there reigned over the kingdom of Tonga, a king, whose name was Abdallah. He was married to a young princess, thedaughter of a king of a neighbouring country, whose name was Rousignon. Her beauty and prudence engaged him so far in affection to her, thatevery hour he could possibly spare from attending the affairs of hiskingdom he spent in her apartment. They had a little daughter, to whomthey gave the name of Hebe, who was the darling and mutual care of both. 

The king was quiet in his dominion, beloved by his subjects, happy inhis family, and all his days rolled on in calm content and joy. Theking's brother Abdulham was also married to a young princess, namedTropo, who in seven years had brought him no children; and she conceivedso mortal a hatred against the queen (for she envied her the happinessof the little Princess Hebe) that she resolved to do her some mischief. It was impossible for her, during the king's lifetime, to vent hermalice without being discovered, and therefore she pretended thegreatest respect and friendship imaginable for the unsuspecting queen. 

Whilst things were in this situation, the king fell into a violentfever, of which he died; and during the time that the queen was in theheight of her affliction for him, and could think of nothing but hisloss, the Princess Tropo took the opportunity of putting in executionher malicious intentions. She inflamed her husband's passions, bysetting forth the meanness of his spirit, in letting a crown be ravishedfrom his head by a female infant, till ambition seized his mind, and heresolved to wield the Tongian sceptre himself. It was very easy to bringthis about, for, by his brother's appointment, he was protector ofthe realm, and guardian to the young princess his niece; and the queentaking him and the princess his wife for her best friends, suspectednothing of their designs, but in a manner gave herself up to theirpower. 

The protector Abdulham, having the whole treasure of the kingdom athis command, was in possession of the means to make all his schemessuccessful; and the Princess Tropo, by lavishly rewarding theinstruments of her treachery, contrived to make it generally believed, that the queen had poisoned her husband, who was so much beloved by hissubjects, that the very horror of the action, without any proof of herguilt, raised against the poor unhappy Queen a universal clamour, and ageneral aversion throughout the whole kingdom. The princess had so welllaid her scheme, that the guards were to seize the queen, and convey herto a place of confinement, till she could prove her innocence; which, that she might never be able to do, proper care was taken by procuringsufficient evidence to accuse her on oath; and the Princess Hebe, herdaughter, was to be taken from her, and educated under the care of heruncle. But the night before this cruel design was to have been put inexecution, a faithful attendant of the queen's, named Loretta, by theassistance of one of the Princess Tropo's confidants (who had longprofessed himself her lover) discovered the whole secret, of which sheimmediately informed her royal mistress. 

The horrors which filled the queen's mind at the relation of thePrincess Tropo's malicious intentions, were inexpressible, and herperturbation so great, that she could not form any scheme that appearedprobable to execute for her own preservation. Loretta told her that theperson who had given her this timely notice, had also provided a peasantwho knew the country, and would meet her at the western gate of thecity, and, carrying the young Princess Hebe in his arms, would conducther to some place of safety; but she must consent to put on a disguise, and escape that very night from the palace, or she would be lost forever. Horses or mules, she said, it would be impossible to come atwithout suspicion; therefore she must endeavour (though unused to suchfatigue) to travel afoot till she got herself concealed in some cottagefrom her pursuers, if her enemies should think of endeavouring to findher out. Loretta offered to attend her mistress, but she absolutelyforbad her going any farther than to the western gate; where deliveringthe little Princess Hebe into the arms of the peasant, who was therewaiting for them, she reluctantly withdrew. 

The good queen, who saw no remedy to this her terrible disgrace, couldhave borne this barbarous usage without much repining, had she herselfbeen the only sufferer by it; for the loss of the good king her husbandso far exceeded all her other misfortunes, that every everything elsewas trifling in comparison of so dreadful an affliction. But the youngPrincess Hebe, whom she was accustomed to look on as her greatestblessing, now became to her an object of pity and concern; for, frombeing heiress to a throne, the poor infant, not yet five years old, was, with her wretched mother, become a vagabond, and knew not whither to flyfor protection. 

Loretta had prevailed on her royal mistress to take with her a fewlittle necessaries, besides a small picture of the king, and some of herjewels, which the queen contrived to conceal under her night-clothes, inthe midst of that hair they were used to adorn, when her loved husbanddelighted to see it displayed in flowing ringlets round her snowy neck. This lady, during the life of her fond husband, was by his tendercare kept from every inclemency of the air, and preserved from everyinconvenience that it was possible for human nature to suffer. What thenmust be her condition now, when through bypaths and thorny ways, she wasobliged to fly with all possible speed, to escape the fury of her cruelpursuers: for she too well knew the merciless temper of her enemies, to hope that they would not pursue her with the utmost diligence, especially as she was accompanied by the young Princess Hebe; whose lifewas the principal cause of their disquiet, and whose destruction theychiefly aimed at. 

The honest peasant, who carried the Princess Hebe in his arms, followedthe queen's painful steps; and seeing the day begin to break, he beggedher, if possible, to hasten on to a wood which was not far off, where itwas likely she might find a place of safety. But the afflicted queen, at the sight of the opening morn (which once used to fill her mind withrising joy) burst into a flood of tears, and, quite overcome withgrief and fatigue, cast herself on the ground, crying out in the mostaffecting manner, 'The end of my misfortunes is at hand. My weary limbswill no longer support me. My spirits fail me. In the grave alone mustI seek for shelter. ' The poor princess, seeing her mother in tears, casther little arms about her neck, and wept also, though she knew not why. 

Whilst she was in this deplorable condition, turning round her head, shesaw behind her a little girl, no older in appearance than the PrincessHebe; who, with an amiable and tranquil countenance, begged her torise and follow her, and she would lead her where she might refresh andrepose herself. 

The queen was surprised at the manner of speaking of this little child, as she took her to be; but soon thought it was some kind fairy sent toprotect her, and was very ready to submit herself to her guidance andprotection. 

The little fairy (for such indeed was the seeming child who had thusaccosted them) ordered the peasant to return back, and said that shewould take care of the queen, and her young daughter; and he, knowingher to be the good fairy Sybella, very readily obeyed. 

Sybella then striking the ground three times with a little wand, theresuddenly rose up before them a neat plain car, and a pair of milk-whitehorses; and placing the queen with the Princess Hebe in her lap by herside, she drove with excessive swiftness full westward for eight hours;when (just as the sun began to have power enough to make the queenalmost faint with the heat and her former fatigue) they arrived at theside of a shady wood; upon entering of which, the fairy made her horsesslacken in their speed, and having travelled about a mile and a half, through rows of elms and beech trees, they came to a thick grove offirs, into which there seemed to be no entrance. For there was not anyopening to a path, and the underwood consisting chiefly of rose-bushes, white-thorn, eglantine, and other flowering shrubs, was so thick, thatit appeared impossible to attempt forcing through them. But alightingout of the car (which immediately disappeared) the fairy (bidding thequeen follow her) pushed her way through a large bush of jessamine, whose tender branches gave way for their passage and then closed again, so as to leave no traces of an entrance into this charming grove. 

Having gone a little way through an extreme narrow path, they came intoan opening (quite surrounded by these firs and sweet underwood) not verylarge, but in which was contained everything that is necessary towardsmaking life comfortable. At the end of a green meadow was a plain neathouse, built more for convenience than beauty, fronting the rising sun;and behind it was a small garden, stored only with fruits and usefulherbs. Sybella conducted her guests into this her simple lodging; andas repose was the chief thing necessary for the poor fatigued queen, she prevailed with her to lie down on a couch. Some hours' sound sleep, which her weariness induced, gave her a fresh supply of spirits; theease and safety from her pursuers, in which she then found herself, madeher for a short time tolerably composed; and she begged the favourof knowing to whom she was so greatly obliged for this her happydeliverance; but the fairy seeing her mind too unsettled to give anydue attention to what she should say, told her that she would defer therelation of her own life (which was worth her observation) till she hadobtained a respite from her own sorrows; and in the meantime, by allmanner of obliging ways, she endeavoured to divert and amuse her. 

The queen, after a short interval of calmness of mind, occasioned onlyby her so sudden escape from the terrors of pursuit, returned to herformer dejection, and for some time incessantly wept at the dismalthought, that the princess seemed now, by this reverse of fate, to befor ever excluded all hopes of being seated on her father's throne;and, by a strange perverse way of adding to her own grief, she afflictedherself the more, because the little princess was ignorant of hermisfortune; and whenever she saw her diverting herself with littlechildish plays, instead of being pleased with such her innocentamusement, it added to her sorrow, and made her tears gush forth in alarger stream than usual. She could not divert her thoughts from thepalace from which she had been driven, to fix them on any other object;nor would her grief suffer her to reflect, that it was possible for theprincess to be happy without a crown. 

At length time, the great cure of all ills, in some measure abated herSorrows; her grief began to subside; in spite of herself, the reflectionthat her misery was only in her own fancy, would sometimes force itselfon her mind. She could not avoid seeing, that her little hostess enjoyedas perfect a state of happiness as is possible to attain in this world;that she was free from anxious cares, undisturbed by restless passions, and mistress of all things that could be of any use to make life easy oragreeable. The oftener this reflection presented itself to her thoughts, the more strength it gained; and, at last, she could even bear to think, that her beloved child might be as happy in such a situation, as was heramiable hostess. Her countenance now grew more cheerful; she could takethe Princess Hebe in her arms, and thinking the jewels she had preservedwould secure her from any fear of want, look on her with delight; andbegan even to imagine, that her future life might be spent in calmcontent and pleasure. 

As soon as the voice of reason had gained this power over the queen, Sybella told her, that now her bosom was so free from passion, she wouldrelate the history of her life. The queen, overjoyed that her curiositymight now be gratified, begged her not to delay giving her that pleasureone moment; on which our little fairy began in the following manner. 

But there Mrs. Teachum told Miss Jenny that the bell rung for dinner; onwhich she was obliged to break off. But meeting again in the same arbourin the evening, when their good mistress continued to them the favour ofher presence, Miss Jenny pursued her story. 

THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED. 

'My father, ' said the fairy, 'was a magician: he married a lady forlove, whose beauty far outshone that of all her neighbours; and by meansof that beauty, she had so great an influence over her husband, that shecould command the utmost power of his art. But better had it been forher, had that beauty been wanting; for her power only served to make herwish for more, and the gratification of every desire begot a new one, which often it was impossible for her to gratify. My father, though hesaw his error in thus indulging her, could not attain steadiness of mindenough to mend it, nor acquire resolution enough to suffer his belovedwife once to grieve or shed a tear to no purpose, though in order tocure her of that folly which made her miserable. 

'My grandfather so plainly saw the temper and disposition of his sontowards women, that he did not leave him at liberty to dispose of hismagic art to any but his posterity, that it might not be in the powerof a wife to tease him out of it. But his caution was to very littlepurpose; for although my mother could not from herself exert any magicpower, yet such was her unbounded influence over her husband, that shewas sure of success in every attempt to persuade him to gratify herdesires. For if every argument she could invent happened to fail, yetthe shedding but one tear was a certain method to prevail with him togive up his reason, whatever might be the consequence. 

'When my father and mother had been married about a year, she wasbrought to bed of a daughter, to whom she gave the name of Brunetta. Herfirst request to my father was, that he would endow this infant with asmuch beauty as she herself was possessed of, and bestow on her as muchof his art as should enable her to succeed in all her designs. My fatherforesaw the dreadful tendency of granting this request, but said hewould give it with this restriction, that she should succeed in allher designs that were not wicked; for, said he, the success of wickeddesigns always turns out as a punishment to the person so succeeding. In this resolution he held for three days, till my mother (being weakin body after her lying-in) worked herself with her violent passions tosuch a degree, that the physicians told my father, they despaired of herlife, unless some method could be found to make her mind more calmand easy. His fondness for his wife would not suffer him to bear thethoughts of losing her, and the horror with which that apprehension hadbut for a moment possessed his mind, prevailed with him to bestow onthe little Brunetta (though foreseeing it would make her miserable) thefatal gift in its full extent. But one restriction it was out of hispower to take off, namely, that all wicked designs ever could and shouldbe rendered ineffectual by the virtue and perseverance of those againstwhom they were intended, if they in a proper manner exerted that virtue. 

'I was born in two years after Brunetta, and was called Sybella: but mymother was so taken up with her darling Brunetta, that she gave herselfnut the least concern about me; and I was left wholly to the care of myfather. In order to make the gift she had extorted from her fond husbandas fatal as possible to her favourite child, she took care in hereducation (by endeavouring to cultivate in her the spirit of revenge andmalice against those who had in the least degree offended her) toturn her mind to all manner of mischief; by which means she lived in acontinual passion. 

'My father, as soon as I was old enough to hearken to reason, told meof the gift he had conferred on my sister; said he could not retract it;and therefore, if she had any mischievous designs against me, they mustin some measure succeed; but she would endow me with a power superior tothis gift of my sister's, and likewise superior to any thing else thathe was able to bestow, which was strength and constancy of mind enoughto bear patiently any injuries I might receive; and this was a strength, he said, which would not decay, but rather increase, by every newexercise of it; and, to secure me in the possession of this gift, helikewise gave me a perfect knowledge of the true value of everythingaround me, by which means I might learn, whatever outward accidentsbefell me, not to lose the greatest blessing in this world, namely, acalm and contented mind. He taught me so well my duty, that I cheerfullyobeyed my mother in all things, though she seldom gave me a kind word, or even a kind look; for my spiteful sister was always telling some liesto make her angry with me. But my heart overflowed with gratitude to myfather, that he would give me leave to love him, whilst he instructed methat it was my duty to pay him the most strict obedience. 

'Brunetta was daily encouraged by her mother to use me ill, and chieflybecause my father loved me; and although she succeeded in all herdesigns of revenge on me, yet was she very uneasy, because she could nottake away the cheerfulness of my mind; for I bore with patience whateverhappened to me: and she would often say, "must I with all my beauty, power, and wisdom (for so she called her low cunning) be sufferingperpetual uneasiness? and shall you, who have neither beauty, power, norwisdom, pretend to be happy and cheerful?" Then would she cry and stamp, and rave like a mad creature, and set her invention at work to make mymother beat me, or lock me up, or take from me some of my best clothesto give to her; yet still could not her power extend to vex my mind: andthis used to throw her again into such passions, as weakened her health, and greatly impaired her so much boasted beauty. 

'In this manner we lived, till on a certain day, after Brunetta had beenin one of her rages with me for nothing, my father came in and chidher for it; which, when my mother heard, she threw herself into such aviolent passion, that her husband could not pacify her. And, being bigwith child, the convulsions, caused by her passions, brought her to hergrave. Thus my father lost her, by the same uncontrollable excesses, thefatal effects of which he had before ruined his daughter to preserve herfrom. He did not long survive her; but, before he died, gave me a littlewand, which, by striking three times on the ground, he said, would atany time produce me any necessary or convenience of life, which I reallywanted, either for myself, or the assistance of others; and this he gaveme, because he was very sensible, he said, that as soon as he was dead, my sister would never rest till she had got from me both his castle, and everything that I had belonging to me, in it. "But, " continued he, "whenever you are driven from thence, bend your course directly into thepleasant wood Ardella; there strike with your wand, and everything youwant, will be provided for you. But keep this wand a profound secret, orBrunetta will get it from you; and then (though you can never, while youpreserve your patience, be unhappy) you will not have it in your powerto be of so much use as you would wish to be, to those who shall standin need of your assistance. " Saying these words, he expired, as Ikneeled by his bedside, attending his last commands, and bewailing theloss of so good a father. 

'In the midst of this our distress, we sent to my Uncle Sochus, myfather's brother, to come to us, and to assist us in an equal divisionof my deceased father's effects; but my sister soon contrived to makehim believe, that I was the wickedest girl alive, and had always setmy father against her by my art, which she said I pretended to call mywisdom; and by several handsome presents she soon persuaded him (for hedid not care a farthing for either of us) to join with her in saying, that, as she was the eldest sister, she had a full right to the castle, and everything in it; but she told me I was very welcome to stay there, and live with her, if I pleased; and while I behaved myself well, sheshould be very glad of my company. 

'As it was natural for me to love every one that would give me leave tolove them, I was quite overjoyed at this kind offer of my sister's, andnever once thought on the treachery she had so lately been guilty of;and I have since reflected, that happy was it for me, that passion wasso much uppermost with her, that she could not execute any plot, thatrequired a dissimulation of any long continuance; for had her goodhumour lasted but one four-and-twenty hours, it is very probable thatI should have opened my whole heart to her; should have endeavoured tohave begun a friendship with her, and perhaps have betrayed the secretof my wand; but just as it was sunset, she came into the room where Iwas, in the most violent passion in the world, accusing me to my uncleof ingratitude to her great generosity, in suffering me to live in hercastle. She said, "that she had found me out, and that my crimes were ofthe blackest dye, " although she would not tell me either what they were, or who were my accusers. She would not give me leave to speak, eitherto ask what my offence was, or to justify my innocence; and I plainlyperceived, that her pretended kindness was only designed to make mydisappointment the greater; and that she was now determined to find meguilty, whether I pleaded, or not. And after she had raved on for sometime, she said to me with a sneer, "Since you have always boasted ofyour calm and contented mind, you may now try to be contented this nightwith the softness of the grass for your bed; for here in my castle youshall not stay one moment longer. " And so saying, she and my uncle ledme to the outer court, and thrusting me with all their force from them, they shut up the gates, bolting and barring them as close as if to keepout a giant; and left me, at that time of night, friendless, and, asthey thought, destitute of any kind of support. 

'I then remembered my dear father's last words, and made what haste Icould to this wood, which is not above a mile distant from the castle;and being, as I thought, about the middle of it, I struck three timeswith my wand, and immediately up rose this grove of trees, which yousee, this house, and all the other conveniences, which I now enjoy; andgetting that very night into this my plain and easy bed, I enjoyed assweet a repose as ever I did in my life, only delayed, indeed, a shorttime, by a few sighs, for the loss of so good a parent, and the unhappystate of a self-tormented sister, whose slumbers (I fear) on a bed ofdown, were more restless and interrupted that night than mine would havebeen, even had not my father's present of the wand prevented me from thenecessity of using the bed of grass, which she, in her wrath, allottedme. In this grove, which I call Placid Grove, is contained all that Iwant; and it is so well secured from any invaders, by the thick briarsand thorns which surround it, having no entrance but through that tenderjessamine, that I live in no apprehensions of any disturbance, though sonear my sister's castle. But once, indeed, she came with a large train, and, whilst I was asleep, set fire to the trees all around me; andwaking, I found myself almost suffocated with smoke, and the flames hadreached one part of my House. I started from my bed, and striking onthe ground three times with my wand, there came such a quantity of waterfrom the heavens, as soon extinguished the fire; and the next morning, by again having recourse to my wand, all things grew up into theirconvenient and proper order. When my sister Brunetta found that I hadsuch a supernatural power at my command, though she knew not what itwas, she desisted from ever attempting any more by force to disturb me;and now only uses all sorts of arts and contrivances to deceive me, or any persons whom I would wish to secure. One of my father's dailylessons to me was, that I should never omit any one day of my lifeendeavouring to be as serviceable as I possibly could to any person indistress. And I daily wander, as far as my feet will carry me, in searchof any such, and hither I invite them to peace and calm contentment. Butmy father added also this command, that I should never endeavour doingany farther good to those whom adversity had not taught to hearken tothe voice of reason, enough to enable them so to conquer their passionsas not to think themselves miserable in a safe retreat from noise andconfusion. This was the reason I could not gratify you in relating thehistory of my life, whilst you gave way to raging passions, which onlyserve to blind your eyes, and shut your ears from truth. But now, greatqueen (for I know your state, from what you vented in your grief), I amready to endow this little princess with any gift in my power, that Iknow will tend really to her good; and I hope your experience of theworld has made you too reasonable to require any other. '

The queen considered a little while, and then desired Sybella to endowthe princess with that only wisdom which would enable her to see andfollow what was her own true good, to know the value of everythingaround her, and to be sensible that following the paths of goodness andperforming her duty was the only road to content and happiness. 

Sybella was overjoyed at the queen's request, and immediately grantedit, only telling the Princess Hebe, that it was absolutely necessarytowards the attainment of this great blessing, that she should entirelyobey the queen her mother, without ever pretending to examine hercommands; for 'true obedience (said she) consists in submission; andwhen we pretend to choose what commands are proper and fit for us, we don't obey, but set up our own wisdom in opposition to ourgovernors--this, my dear Hebe, you must be very careful of avoiding, ifyou would be happy. ' She then cautioned her against giving way to thepersuasions of any of the young shepherdesses thereabouts, who wouldendeavour to allure her to disobedience, by striving to raise in hermind a desire of thinking herself wise, whilst they were tearing fromher what was indeed true wisdom. 'For (said Sybella) my sister Brunetta, who lives in the castle she drove me from (about a mile from this wood)endows young shepherdesses with great beauty, and everything that is inappearance amiable, and likely to persuade, in order to allure away andmake wretched, those persons I would preserve: and all the wisdom withwhich I have endowed the Princess Hebe will not prevent her falling intomy sister's snares, if she gives the least way to temptation; for myfather's gift to Brunetta, in her infancy, enables her (as I told you)to succeed in all her designs, except they are resisted by the virtue ofthe person she is practising against. Many poor wretches has my sisteralready decoyed away from me, whom she now keeps in her castle;where they live in splendor and seeming joy, but in real misery, fromperpetual jars and tumults, railed by envy, malice, and all the train oftumultuous and tormenting passions. '

The Princess Hebe said, she doubted not but she should be able towithstand any of Brunetta's temptations. Her mother interrupting her, cried out, 'Oh, my dear child, though you are endowed with wisdom enoughto direct you in the way to virtue, yet if you grow conceited and proudof that wisdom, and fancy yourself above temptation, it will lead youinto the worst of all evils. ' Here the fairy interposed, and told thePrincess Hebe, that if she would always carefully observe and obey hermother, who had learned wisdom in that best school, adversity, she wouldthen, indeed, be able to withstand and overcome every temptation, andwould likewise be happy herself, and able to dispense happiness to allaround her. Nothing was omitted by the fairy to make this retirementagreeable to her royal guests; and they had now passed near seven yearsin this delightful grove, in perfect peace and tranquillity; when oneevening, as they were walking in the pleasant wood which surroundedtheir habitation, they espied under the shade, and leaning againstthe bark of a large oak, a poor old man, whose limbs were withered anddecayed, and whose eyes were hollow, and sunk with age and misery. Theystopped as soon as they saw him, and heard him in the anguish of hisheart, with a loud groan, utter these words: 'When will my sorrows end?Where shall I find the good fairy Sybella?' The fairy immediately beggedto know his business with her; and said, if his sorrows would end onfinding Sybella, he might set his heart at ease; for she stood nowbefore him, and ready to serve him, if his distresses were such as wouldadmit of relief, and he could prove himself worthy of her friendship. The old Man appeared greatly overjoyed at having found the fairy, andbegan the following story:

'I live from hence a thousand leagues. All this tiresome way have I comein search of you. My whole life has been spent in amassing wealth, toenrich one only son, whom I doted on to distraction. It is now fiveyears since I have given him up all the riches I had laboured to get, only to make him happy. But, alas how am I disappointed! His wealthenables him to command whatever this world produces; and yet the poorestwretch that begs his bread cannot be more miserable. He spends his daysin riot and luxury; has more slaves and attendants than wait in thepalace of a prince; and still he sighs from morning till night, because, he says, there is nothing in this world worth living for. All hisdainties only sate his palate, and grow irksome to his sight. He dailychanges his opinion of what is pleasure; and, on the trial, findsnone that he can call such; and then falls to sighing again, for theemptiness of all that he has enjoyed. So that, instead of being mydelight, and the comfort of my old age, sleepless nights, and anxiousdays, are all the rewards of my past labours for him. But I have hadmany visions and dreams to admonish me, that if I would venture with myold frame to travel hither a-foot in search of the fairy Sybella, shehad a glass, which if she showed him, he would be cured of this dreadfulmelancholy, and I have borne the labour and fatigue of coming thislong tiresome way, that I may not breathe my last with the agonizingreflection, that all the labours of my life have been thrown away. But what shall I say to engage you to go with me? Can riches tempt, orpraise allure you?'

'No, (answered the fairy) neither of them has power to move me; butI compassionate your age; and if I thought I could succeed, would notrefuse you. The glass which I shall bid him look in, will show him hisinward self; but if he will not open both his eyes and heart enough totruth, to let him understand, that the pleasures he pursues not only arenot but cannot be satisfactory, I can be of no sort of service to him. And know, old man, that the punishment you now feel is the naturalresult of your not having taught him this from his infancy; for, insteadof heaping up wealth, to allure him to seek for happiness from suchdeceitful means, you should have taught him, that the only path to itwas to be virtuous and good. '

The old man said, he heartily repented of his conduct, and on his kneesso fervently implored Sybella's assistance, that at last she consentedto go with him. Then striking on the ground three times with her wand, the car and horses rose up, and placing the old Man by her, after takingleave of the queen, and begging the Princess Hebe to be careful to guardagainst all temptations to disobedience, she set out on her journey. 

It being now come to the latest hour that Mrs. Teachum thought properfor her little scholars to stay out in the air, she told Miss Jenny thatshe must defer reading the remaining part of her story till the nextday. Miss Jenny always with great cheerfulness obeyed her governess, andimmediately left off reading; and said she was ready to attend her; andthe whole company rose up to follow her. 

Mrs. Teachum had so much judgment, that, perceiving such a readyobedience to all her commands, she now endeavoured, by all means shecould think of; to make her scholars throw off that reserve before her, which must ever make it uneasy to them for her ever to be presentwhilst they were following their innocent diversions; for such was theunderstanding of this good woman, that she could keep up the authorityof the governess in her school, yet at times become the companion ofher scholars. And as she now saw, by their good behaviour, they deservedthat indulgence, she took the little dumpling by the hand, and, followedby the rest, walked towards the house, and discoursed familiarly withthem the rest of the evening, concerning all their past amusements. 

SATURDAY. THE SIXTH DAY. 

It was the custom on Saturdays to have no school in the afternoon, andit being also their writing day from morning-school till dinner, Mrs. Teachum, knowing how eager Miss Jenny's hearers were for the rest of thestory, accompanied them into the arbour, early in the afternoon, whenMiss Jenny went on as follows:

THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED. 

The queen and the Princess Hebe remained, by the good fairy's desire, inher habitation during her absence. They spent their time in serenity andcontent; the princess daily improving herself in wisdom and goodness, byhearkening to her mother's instructions, and obeying all her commands, and the queen in studying what would be of most use to her child. Shehad now forgot her throne and palace, and desired nothing for her, thanher present peaceful retreat. One morning, as they were sitting in alittle arbour at the corner of a pleasant meadow, on a sudden theyheard a voice, much sweeter than they had ever heard, warble through thefollowing song:

A SONG. 

 Virtue, soft balm of every woe, Of ev'ry grief the cure, 'Tis thou alone that canst best bestow Pleasures unmix'd and pure. 

 The shady wood, the verdant mead, Are Virtue's flow'ry road; Nor painful are the steps which lead To her divine abode. 

 'Tis not in palaces of halls, She or their train appear; Far off she flies from pompous walls; Virtue and Peace dwell here. 

The queen was all attention, and at the end of the song she gazed aroundher, in hopes of seeing the person whose enchanting voice she had beenso eagerly listening to, when she espied a young shepherdess, notmuch older than the Princess Hebe, but possessed of such uncommon anddazzling beauty, that it was some time before she could disengage hereyes from so agreeable an object. As soon as the young shepherdess foundherself observed, she seemed modestly to offer to withdraw; but thequeen begged her not to go till she had informed them who she was, that, with such a commanding aspect, had so much engaged them in her favour. 

The shepherdess coming forward, with a bashful blush, and profoundobedience, answered, that her name was Rozella, and she was the daughterof a neighbouring shepherd and shepherdess, who lived about a quarter ofa mile from thence; and, to confess the truth, she had wandered thither, in hopes of seeing the young stranger, whose fame for beauty and wisdomhad filled all that country round. 

The Princess Hebe, well knowing of whom she spoke, conceived from thatmoment such an inclination fur her acquaintance, that she begged her tostay and spend that whole day with them in Placid Grove. Here the queenfrowned upon her, for she had, by the fairy's desire, charged her neverto bring any one, without her permission, into that peaceful grove. 

The young Rozella answered, that nothing could be more agreeable to herinclinations; but she must be at home by noon, for so in the morninghad her father commanded her, and never yet in her life had she eitherdisputed or disobeyed her parent's commands. Here the young princesslooked on her mother with eyes expressive of her joy at finding acompanion, which she, and even the fairy herself, could not disapprove. 

When Rozella took her leave, she begged the favour that the little Hebe(for so she called her, not knowing her to be a princess) might cometo her father's small cottage, and there partake such homely fare as itafforded; a welcome, she said, she could insure her; and though poor, yet from the honesty of her parents, who would be proud to entertainso rare a beauty, she was certain no sort of harm could happen to thepretty Hebe, from such a friendly visit; and she would be in the sameplace again tomorrow, to meet her, in hopes, as she said, to conduct herto her humble habitation. 

When Rozella was gone, the queen, though highly possessed in her favour, both by her beauty and modest behaviour, yet pondered some time on thethought, whether or no she was a fit companion for her daughter. Sheremembered what Sybella had told her, concerning Brunetta's adorningyoung shepherdesses with beauty, and other excellences, only to enablethem the better to allure and entice others into wickedness. Rozella'sbeginning her acquaintance too with the princess, by flattery, had nogood aspect; and the sudden effect it had upon her, so as to make herforget, or wilfully disobey, her commands, by inviting Rozella toPlacid Grove, were circumstances which greatly alarmed her. But, bythe repeated entreaties of the princess, she gave her consent that sheshould meet Rozella the next day, and walk with her in that meadow, andin the wood, but upon no account should she go home with her, orbring Rozella back with her. The queen then, in gentle terms, chid theprincess for her invitation to the young shepherdess, which was contraryto an absolute command; and said, 'You must, my dear Hebe, be verycareful to guard yourself extremely well against those temptationswhich wear the face of virtue. I know that your sudden affection to thisapparent good girl, and your desire of her company, to partake withyou the innocent pleasures of this happy place, arise from a gooddisposition; but where the indulgence of the most laudable passion, evenbenevolence and compassion itself, interferes with, or runs counter toyour duty, you must endeavour to suppress it, or it will fare with you, as it did with that hen, who, thinking that she heard the voice of alittle duckling in distress, flew from her young ones, to go and give itassistance, and following the cry, came at last to a hedge, out of whichjumped a subtle and wicked fox, who had made that noise to deceiveher, and devoured her in an instant. A kite at the same time, takingadvantage of her absence, carried away, one by one, all her littleinnocent brood, robbed of that parent who should have been theirprotector. ' The princess promised her mother that she would punctuallyobey all her commands, and be very watchful and observant of everythingRozella said and did, till she had approved herself worthy of herconfidence and friendship. 

The queen the next morning renewed her injunctions to her daughter, thatshe should by no means go farther out of the wood than into the meadow, where she was to meet Rozella, and that she should give her a faithfulaccount of all that should pass between them. 

They met according to appointment, and the princess brought home so goodan account of their conversation, which the queen imagined would help toimprove, rather than seduce her child, that she indulged her in the samepleasure as often as she asked it. They passed some hours every dayin walking round that delightful wood, in which were many small greenmeadows, with little rivulets running through them, on the banks ofwhich, covered with primroses and violets, Rozella, by the side of hersweet companion, used to sing the most enchanting songs in the world:the words were chiefly in praise of innocence and a country life. 

The princess came home every day more and more charmed with her youngshepherdess, and recounted, as near as she could remember, every wordthat had passed between them. The queen very highly approved of theirmanner of amusing themselves; but again enjoined her to omit nothingthat passed in conversation, especially if it had the least tendencytowards alluring her from her duty. 

One day, as the princess Hebe and Rozella were walking alone, andtalking, as usual, of their own happy state, and the princess wasdeclaring how much her own happiness was owing to her thorough obedienceto her mother, Rozella, with a tone of voice as half in jest, said, 'Butdon't you think, my little Hebe, that if I take a very great pleasure inany thing that will do me no hurt, though it is forbidden, I may disobeymy parents in enjoying it, provided I don't tell them of it to vex themwith the thought that I have disobeyed them? And then, my dear, whatharm is done?'

'Great harm (answered the princess, looking grave and half angry): I amashamed to hear you talk so, Rozella. Are you not guilty of treachery, as well as disobedience? Neither ought you to determine that no harmis done, because you do not feel the immediate effects of yourtransgression; for the consequence may be out of our narrowinexperienced view; and I have been taught whenever my mother laysany commands on me, to take it for granted, she has some reason forso doing; and I obey her, without examining what those reasons are;otherwise, it would not be obeying her, but setting up my own wisdom, and doing what she bid me, only when I thought proper. '

They held a long argument on this head, in which Rozella made use ofmany a fallacy to prove her point; but the princess, as she had not yetdeparted from Truth, nor failed in her duty, could not be imposed upon. Rozella, seeing every attempt to persuade her was in vain, turned allher past discourse into a jest; said she had only a mind to try her; andwas overjoyed to find her so steady in the cause of truth and virtue. The princess resumed her usual cheerfulness and good humour. Rozellasung her a song in praise of constancy of mind; and they passed the restof the time they stayed together, as they used to do. 

But, just before they parted, Rozella begged she would not tell hermother of the first part of the conversation that had passed betweenthem. The princess replied, that it would be breaking through one of hermother's commands, and therefore she dared not grant her request. Then, said Rozella, 'Here I must for ever part with my dear little Hebe. Your mother, not knowing the manner in which I spoke, will have an illopinion of me, and will never trust you again in my company. Thus willyou be torn from me; and loss will be irreparable. ' These words sheaccompanied with a flood of tears, and such little tendernesses, asquite melted the princess into tears also. But she still said, that shecould not dare to conceal from her mother anything that had happened, though she could not but own, she believed their separation would bethe consequence. 'Well then (cried Rozella) I will endeavour to becontented, as our separation will give you less pain than what you callthis mighty breach of your duty: and though I would willingly undergoalmost any torments that could be invented, rather than be debarred onemoment the company of my dearest Hebe, yet I will not expect that sheshould suffer the smallest degree of pain, or uneasiness, to save mefrom losing what is the whole pleasure of my life. '

The princess could not bear the thought of appearing ungrateful to sucha warm friendship as Rozella expressed; and, without farther hesitation, promised to conceal what she had said, and to undergo anything, ratherthan lose so amiable a friend. 

After this they parted. But when the princess entered the Grove, she didnot, as usual, run with haste and joy into the presence of her indulgentmother; for her mind was disturbed: she felt a conscious shame on seeingher, and turned away her face, as wanting to shun the piercing look ofthat eye, which she imagined would see the secret lurking in herbosom. Her mother observed with concern her downcast look, and want ofcheerfulness. And asking her what was the matter, she answered, herwalk had fatigued her, and she begged early to retire to rest. Herkind mother consented; but little rest had the poor princess that wholenight, for the pain of having her mind touched with guilt, and the fearshe was under of losing her dear companion, kept her thoughts in onecontinued tumult and confusion. The fairy's gift now became her curse;for the power of seeing what was right, as she had acted contrary to herknowledge, only tormented her. 

She hastened the next morning to meet Rozella, and told her all that hadpassed in her own mind the preceding night; declaring that she would notpass such another for the whole world; but yet would not dispense withher promise to her, without her consent; and therefore came to ask herleave to acquaint her good mother with all that had passed: 'For (saidshe) my dear Rozella, we must, if we would be happy, do always what isright, and trust for the consequences. ' Here Rozella drew her featuresinto the most contemptuous sneer imaginable, and said, 'Pray what areall these mighty pains you have suffered? Are they not owing only toyour want of sense enough to know, that you can do your mother no harm, by concealing from her this, or anything else that will vex her? and, my dear girl (continued she) when you have once entered into this way ofthinking, and have put this blind duty out of your head, you will spendno more such restless nights, which you must see was entirely owing toyour own imaginations. '

This startled the princess to such a degree, that she was breaking fromher, but, putting on a more tender air, Rozella cried, 'And canyou then, my dear Hebe, determine to give me up for such a triflingconsideration?' Then raising her voice again, in a haughty manner, shesaid, 'I ought to despise and laugh at you for your folly, or at bestpity your ignorance, rather than offer a sincere friendship to one soundeserving. '

The princess, having once swerved from her duty, was now in the power ofevery passion that should attack her. 

Pride and indignation, at the thought of being despised, bore more swaywith her, than either her duty or affection to her fond mother; and shewas now determined, she said, to think for herself, and make use of herown understanding, which she was convinced would always teach her whatwas right. Upon this Rozella took her by the hand, and, with tearsof joy, said, 'Now, my dearest girl, you are really wise, and cannottherefore (according to your own rule) fail of being happy. But to showthat you are in earnest in this resolution, you shall this morning gohome with me to my father's cot; it is not so far off, but you will beback by the time your mother expects you; and as that will be obeyingthe chief command, it is but concealing from her the thing that wouldvex her, and there will be no harm done. ' Here a ray of truth broke inupon our young princess; but as a false shame, and fear of being laughedat, had now got possession of her, she, with a soft sigh, consented tothe proposal. 

Rozella led the way. But just as they were turning round the walk, whichleads out of the wood, a large serpent darted from one side out of athicket, directly between them, and turning its hissing mouth towardsthe princess, as seeming to make after her, she fled hastily back, andran with all her speed towards the grove, and panting for breath, flewinto the arms of her ever kind protectress. 

Her mother was vastly terrified to see her tremble, and look so pale;and as soon as she was a little recovered, asked her the occasion of herfright, and added (with tears running down her cheeks) 'I am afraid, mydear Hebe, some sad disaster has befallen you, for, indeed, my child, Ibut too plainly saw last night--'

Here the princess was so struck with true shame and confusion, for herpast behaviour, that she fell down upon her knees, confessed the wholetruth, and implored forgiveness for her fault. 

The queen kindly raised her up, kissed and forgave her. 'I am overjoyed, my dear child (said she) at this your sweet repentance, though theeffect of mere accident, as it appears but sent, without doubt, by somegood fairy, to save you from destruction; and I hope you are thoroughlyconvinced, that the serpent which drove you home, was not half sodangerous as the false Rozella. '

The princess answered, that she was thoroughly sensible of the dangersshe had avoided, and hoped she never should again, by her own folly andwickedness, deserve to be exposed to the danger from which she had solately escaped. 

Some days passed, without the princess's offering to stir out of thegrove; and in that time she gave a willing and patient ear to all hermother's instructions, and seemed thoroughly sensible of the greatdeliverance she had lately experienced. But yet there appeared in hercountenance an uneasiness, which the queen wishing to remove, asked herthe cause of. 

'It is, dear madam, ' answered the princess, 'because I have not yet hadit in my power to convince you of my repentance, which (though I know itto be sincere) you have had no proof of, but in words only; and, indeed, my heart longs for an occasion to show you, that I am now able to resistany allurement which would tempt me from my duty; and I cannot be easytill you have given me an opportunity of showing you the firmness ofmy resolution; and if you will give me leave to take a walk in thewood alone, this evening, I shall return to you with pleasure, and willpromise not to exceed any bounds that you shall prescribe. '

The queen was not much pleased with this request; but the princess wasso earnest with her to grant it, that she could not well refuse, withoutseeming to suspect her sincerity; which she did not, but only feared forher safety, and, giving her a strict charge, not to stir a step out ofthe wood, or to speak to the false Rozella, if she came in her way, shereluctantly gave her consent. 

The princess walked through all the flowery labyrinths, in which she hadso often strayed with Rozella; but she was so shocked with the thoughtsof her wickedness, that she hardly gave a sigh for the loss of acompanion once so dear to her; and as a proof that her repentancewas sincere, though she heard Rozella singing in an arbour (purposelyperhaps to decoy her) she turned away without the least emotion, andwent quite to the other side of the wood; where looking into the meadow, in which she first beheld that false friend, she saw a girl about herown age, leaning against a tree, and crying most bitterly. But themoment she came in sight, the young shepherdess (for such by her dressshe appeared to be) cried out, 'O help, dear young lady, help me; for Iam tied here to this tree, by the spiteful contrivance of a wicked youngshepherdess called Rozella: my hands too, you see, are bound behind me, so that I cannot myself unloose the knot; and if I am not released, heremust I lie all night and my wretched parents will break their hearts, for fear some sad accident should have befallen their only child, theirpoor unhappy Florimel!'

The Princess, hearing her speak of Rozella in that manner, had nosuspicion of her being one of that false girl's deluding companions;but rather thought that she was a fellow-sufferer with herself; andtherefore, without any consideration of the bounds prescribed, shehastened to relieve her, and even thought that she should have greatpleasure in telling her mother, that she had saved a poor youngshepherdess from Rozella's malice, and restored her to her fond parents. But as soon as she had unloosed the girl from the tree, and unbound herhands, instead of receiving thanks for what she had done, the wickedFlorimel burst into a laugh, and suddenly snatching from the PrincessHebe's side her father's picture, which she always wore hanging in aribbon, she ran away with it, as fast as she could, over the meadow. 

The Princess was so astonished at this strange piece of ingratitudeand treachery, and was so alarmed for fear of losing what she knew hermother so highly valued, that hardly knowing what she was about, shepursued Florimel with all her speed, begging and entreating her not tobereave her so basely and ungratefully of that picture, which she wouldnot part with for the world: but it was all to no purpose for Florimelcontinued her flight, and the princess her pursuit, till they arrivedat Brunetta's castle-gate; where the fairy herself appeared dressed andadorned in the most becoming manner, and, with the most bewitching smilethat can come from dazzling beauty, invited the princess to enter hercastle (into which Florimel was run to hide herself) and promised her, on that condition, to make the idle girl restore the picture. 

It was now so late, that it was impossible for the princess to thinkof returning home that night; and the pleasing address of Brunetta, together with the hopes of having her picture restored, soon prevailedwith her to accept of the fairy's invitation. 

The castle glittered with gaudy furniture; sweet music was heard inevery room; the whole company, who were all of the most beautiful formsthat could be conceived, strove who should be most obliging to thistheir new guest. They omitted nothing that could amuse and delight thesenses. And the Princess Hebe was so entranced with joy and rapture, that she had not time for thought, or for the least serious reflection;and she now began to think, that she had attained the highest happinessupon earth. 

After they had kept her three days in this round of pleasure anddelight, they began to pull of the mask; nothing was heard but quarrels, jars, and galling speeches. Instead of sweet music, the apartments werefilled with screams and howling; for every one giving way to the mostoutrageous passions, they were always doing each other some maliciousturn, and only universal horror and confusion reigned. 

The princess was hated by all, and was often asked, with insultingsneers, why she did not return to her peaceful grove, and condescendingmother? But her mind having been thus turned aside from what was right, could not bear the thoughts of returning; and though by her daily tears, she showed her repentance, shame prevented her return: but this againwas not the right sort of shame; for then she would humbly have takenthe punishment due to her crime; and it was rather a stubborn pride, which, as she knew herself so highly to blame, would not give her leaveto suffer the confusion of again confessing her fault; and till shecould bring herself to such a state of mind, there was no remedy for hermisery. 

Just as Miss Jenny had read these words, Mrs. Teachum remembering someorders necessary to give in her family, left them, but bid them go on, saying she would return again in a quarter of an hour. But she was nosooner gone from them, than our little company, hearing the sound oftrumpets and kettle-drums, which seemed to be playing at some littledistance from Mrs. Teachum's house, suddenly started from their seats, running directly to the terrace; and, looking over the garden wall, they saw a troop of soldiers riding by, with these instruments of musicplaying before them. 

They were highly delighted with the gallant and splendid appearance ofthese soldiers, and watched them till they were out of sight, and werethen returning to their arbour, where Miss Jenny had been reading; butMiss Nanny Spruce espied another such troop coming out of the lane fromwhence the first had issued, and cried out, 'O! here is another finesight; let us stay, and see these go by too. ' 'Indeed (said Miss DollyFriendly) I am in such pain for the poor princess Hebe, while she is inthat sad castle, that I had rather hear how she escaped (for that I hopeshe will) than see all the soldiers in the world; and besides, it is butseeing the same thing we have just looked at before. ' Here some were forstaying, and others for going back; but as Miss Dolly's party was thestrongest, the few were ashamed to avow their inclinations; and theywere returning to the arbour, when they met Mrs. Teachum, who informedthem their dancing master was just arrived, and they must attend him;but in the evening they might finish their story. 

They were so curious (and especially Miss Dolly Friendly) to know whatwas to become of the princess, that they could have wished not to havebeen interrupted; but yet, without one word of answer, they compliedwith what their governess thought most proper; and in the evening, hastening to their arbour, Mrs. Teachum herself being present, MissJenny went on in the following manner:

THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED. 

The queen, in the meantime, suffered for the loss of her child more thanwords can express, till the good fairy Sybella returned. The queen burstinto tears at the sight of her; but the fairy immediately cried out, 'You may spare yourself, my royal guest, the pain of relating what hashappened. I know it all; for that old man, whom I took such pity on, wasa phantom, raised by Brunetta, to allure me hence, in order to have anopportunity, in my absence, of seducing the princess from her duty. She knew nothing but a probable story could impose on me, and thereforeraised that story of the misery of the old man's son (from motives whichtoo often, indeed, cause the misery of mortals); as knowing I shouldthink it my duty to do what I could to relieve such a wretch. I will nottell you all my journey, nor what I have gone through. I know yourmind is at present too much fixed on the princess, to attend to sucha relation I'll only tell you what concerns yourself. When the phantomfound, that by no distress he could perturb my mind, he said he wasobliged to tell the truth, what was the intention of my being deludedfrom home, and what had happened since; and then vanished away. ' Herethe fairy related to the queen everything that had happened to theprincess, as has already been written; and concluded with saying, thatshe would wander about the castle walls (for Brunetta had no power overher); and if she could get a sight of the princess, she would endeavourto bring her to a true sense of her fault, and then she might again berestored to happiness. 

The queen blessed the fairy for her goodness; and it was not long beforeSybella's continual assiduity got her a sight of the princess; forshe often wandered a little way towards that wood she had once somuch delighted in, but never could bring herself to enter into it: thethought of seeing her injured mother made her start back, and run halfwild into the fatal castle. Rozella used frequently to throw herselfin her way; and on hearing her sighs, and seeing her tears, would burstinto a sneering laugh at her folly; to avoid which laugh, the poorprincess first suffered herself to throw off all her principles ofgoodness and obedience, and was now fallen into the very contempt she somuch dreaded. 

The first time the fairy got a sight of her, she called to her with themost friendly voice; but the princess, stung to the soul with the sightof her, fled away, and did not venture out again in several days. Thekind Sybella began almost to despair of regaining her lost child; butnever failed walking round the castle many hours every day. And oneevening, just before the sun set, she heard within the gates a loudtumultuous noise, but more like riotous mirth, than either the voiceeither of rage or anger; and immediately she saw the princess rush outat the gate, and about a dozen girls, laughing and shouting, runningafter her. The poor princess flew with all her speed till she came to alittle arbour, just by the side of the wood; and her pursuers, as theyintended only to tease her, did not follow her very close; but, as soonas they lost sight of her, turned all back again to the castle. 

Sybella went directly into the arbour, where she found the littletrembler prostrate on the ground, crying and sobbing as if her heart wasbreaking. The fairy seized her hand, and would not let her go till shehad prevailed with her to return to the Placid Grove, to throw herselfonce more at her mother's feet, assuring her, that nothing but thishumble state of mind could cure her misery and restore her wonted peace. 

The queen was filled with the highest joy to see her child; butrestrained herself so much, that she showed not the least sign of it, till she had seen her some time prostrate at her feet, and had heardher with tears properly confess, and ask pardon for, all her faults. Shethen raised, and once more forgave her; but told her that she must learnmore humility and distrust of herself, before she should again expect tobe trusted. 

The princess answered not, but with a modest downcast look whichexpressed her concern and true repentance, and in a short time recoveredher former peace of mind; and as she never afterwards disobeyed herindulgent mother, she daily increased in wisdom and goodness. 

After having lived on in the most innocent and peaceful manner for threeyears (the princess being just turned of eighteen years old) the fairytold the queen that she would now tell her some news of her kingdom, which she had heard in her journey; namely, that her sister-in-lawwas dead, and her brother-in-law had made proclamation throughout thekingdom, of great rewards to any one who should produce the queen andthe Princess Hebe, whom he would immediately reinstate on the throne. 

The Princess Hebe was by when she related this, and said she beggedto lead a private life, and never more be exposed to the temptation ofentering into vice, for which she already had so severely smarted. 

The fairy told her, that, since she doubted herself, she was now fitto be trusted; for, said she, 'I did not like your being so sure ofresisting temptation, when first I conferred on you the gift of wisdom. But you will, my princess, if you take the crown, have an opportunityof doing so much good, that, if you continue virtuous, you will haveperpetual pleasures; for power, if made a right use of, is indeed a verygreat blessing. '

The princess answered, that if the queen, her mother, thought it herduty to take the crown, she would cheerfully submit, though a privatelife would be otherwise her choice. 

The queen replied, that she did not blame her for choosing a privatelife; but she thought she could not innocently refuse the power thatwould give her such opportunities of doing good, and making othershappy; since, by that refusal, the power might fall into hands thatwould make an ill use of it. 

After this conversation, they got into the same car in which theytravelled to the wood of Ardella; arrived safely at the city ofAlgorada; and the Princess Hebe was seated, with universal consent, onher father's throne; where she and her people were reciprocally happy, by her great wisdom and prudence; and the queen-mother spent theremainder of her days in peace and joy, to see her beloved daughterprove a blessing to such numbers of human creatures; whilst she herselfenjoyed that only true content and happiness this world can produce;namely, a peaceful conscience, and a quiet mind. 

When Miss Jenny had finished her story, Mrs. Teachum left them forthe present, that they might with the utmost freedom make their ownobservations; for she knew she should be acquainted with all theirsentiments from Miss Jenny afterwards. 

The little hearts of all the company were swelled with joy, in thatthe Princess Hebe was at last made happy; for hope and fear had each byturns possessed their bosoms for the fate of the little princess; andMiss Dolly Friendly said, that Rozella's artful manner was enough tohave drawn in the wisest girl into her snares; and she did not see howit was possible for the Princess Hebe to withstand it, especially whenshe cried for fear of parting with her. 

Miss Sukey Jennett said, that Rozella's laughing at her, and using herwith contempt, she thought was insupportable, for who could bear thecontempt of a friend?

Many and various were the remarks made by Miss Jenny's hearers on thestory she had read to them. But now they were so confirmed in goodness, and every one was so settled in her affection for her companions, that, instead of being angry at any opposition that was made to theirjudgments, every one spoke her opinion with the utmost mildness. 

Miss Jenny sat some time silent to hear their conversation on her fairytale. But her seeing them so much altered in their manner of talking toeach other, since the time they made their little remarks on her storyof the giants, filled her whole mind with the most sincere pleasure; andwith a smile peculiar to herself, and which diffused a cheerfulness toall around her, she told her companions the joy their present behaviourhad inspired her with; but saying that it was as late as their governesschose they should stay out, she rose, and walked towards the house, whither she was cheerfully followed by the whole company. 

Mrs. Teachum after supper, again, in a familiar manner, talked tothem on the subject of the fairy tale, and encouraged them, as much aspossible, to answer her freely in whatever she asked them; and at lastsaid, 'My good children, I am very much pleased when you are innocentlyamused; and yet I would have you consider seriously enough of what youread, to draw such morals from your books, as may influence your futurepractice; and as to fairy tales in general, remember, that the fairies, as I told Miss Jenny before of giants and magic, are only introduced bythe writers of those tales, by way of amusement to the reader. For ifthe story is well written, the common course of things would produce thesame incidents, without the help of fairies. 

'As for example, in this of the Princess Hebe, you see the queen hermother was not admitted to know the fairy's history, till she could calmher mind enough to hearken to reason; which only means, that whilst wegive way to the raging of our passions, nothing useful can ever sinkinto our minds. For by the fairy Sybella's story you find, that by ourown faults we may turn the greatest advantages into our own misery, asSybella's mother did her beauty, by making use of the influence it gaveher over her husband, to tease him into the ruin of his child; and asalso Brunetta did, by depending on her father's gift, to enable her tocomplete her desires, and therefore never endeavouring to conquer them. 

'You may observe also on the other side, that no accident had any powerto hurt Sybella, because she followed the paths of virtue, and kept hermind free from restless passions. 

'You see happiness in the good Sybella's peaceful grove, and miseryin the wicked Brunetta's gaudy castle. The queen desiring the fairy toendow her child with true wisdom, was the cause that the Princess Hebehad it in her power to be happy. But take notice, that when she swervedfrom her duty, all her knowledge was of no use, but only rendered hermore miserable, by letting her see her own folly in the stronger light. Rozella first tempted the princess to disobedience, by moving hertenderness, and alarming her friendship, in fearing to part with her;and then by persuading her to set up her own wisdom, in opposition toher mother's commands, rather than be laughed at, and despised byher friends. You are therefore to observe, that if you would steadilypersevere in virtue, you must have resolution enough to stand the sneersof those who would allure you to vice; for it is the constant practiceof the vicious, to endeavour to allure others to follow their example, by an affected contempt and ridicule of virtue. 

'By the Princess Hebe's being drawn at last beyond the prescribedbounds, by the cries and entreaties of that insidious girl, you are tolearn, that whatever appearance of virtue any action may be attendedwith, yet if it makes you go contrary to the commands of those who knowbetter what is for your good, than you do your selves, and who can seefarther into the consequences of actions than can your tender years, itwill certainly lead you into error and misfortune; and you find, as soonas the princess had once overleaped the bounds, another plausible excusearose to carry her on; and by a false fear of incurring her mother'sdispleasure, she really deserved that displeasure, and was soon reducedinto the power of her enemy. 

'The princess, you see, could have no happiness till she returned againto her obedience, and had confessed her fault. And though in this storyall this is brought about by fairies, yet the moral of it is, thatwhenever we give way to our passions, and act contrary to our duty, wemust be miserable. 

'But let me once more observe to you, that these fairies are onlyintended to amuse you; for remember that the misery which attended thePrincess Hebe, on her disobedience, was the natural consequence of thatdisobedience, as well as the natural consequence of her amendment andreturn to her duty, was content and happiness for the rest of her life. '

Here good Mrs. Teachum ceased, and Miss Jenny, in the name of thecompany, thanked her for her kind instructions, and promised that theywould endeavour, to the utmost of their power, to imprint them on theirmemory for the rest of their lives. 

SUNDAY. THE SEVENTH DAY. 

This morning our little society rose very early, and were all dressedwith neatness and elegance, in order to go to church. Mrs. Teachum putMiss Polly Suckling before her, and the rest followed, two and two, withperfect regularity. 

Mrs. Teachum expressed great approbation, that her scholars, at thissolemn place, showed no sort of childishness, notwithstanding theirtender age; but behaved with decency and devotion suitable to theoccasion. 

They went again in the same order, and behaved again in the same manner, in the afternoon; and when they returned from church, two young ladies, Lady Caroline and Lady Fanny Delun, who had formerly known Miss JennyPeace, and who were at present in that neighbourhood with their uncle, came to make her a visit. 

Lady Caroline was fourteen years of age, tall and genteel in her person, of a fair complexion, and a regular set of features so that, upon thewhole, she was generally complimented with being very handsome. 

Lady Fanny, who was one year younger than her sister, was rather littleof her age, of a brown complexion, her features irregular; and, inshort, she had not the least real pretensions to beauty. 

It was but lately that their father was, by the death of his eldestbrother, become Earl of Delun; so that their titles were new, and theyhad not been long used to your ladyship. 

Miss Jenny Peace received them as her old acquaintance: however, shepaid them the deference due to their quality, and, at the same time, took care not to behave as if she imagined they thought of anythingelse. 

As it was her chief delight to communicate her pleasures to others, sheintroduced her new-made friends to her old acquaintance, and expected tohave spent a very agreeable afternoon. But to describe the behaviour ofthese two young ladies is very difficult. Lady Caroline, who was dressedin a pink robe, embroidered thick with gold, and adorned with very finejewels, and the finest Mechlin lace, addressed most of her discourse toher sister, that she might have the pleasure every minute of uttering'Your ladyship, ' in order to show what she herself expected. And asshe spoke, her fingers were in perpetual motion, either adjusting hertucker, placing her plaits of her robe, or fiddling with a diamondcross, that hung down on her bosom, her eyes accompanying her fingers asthey moved, and then suddenly being snatched off, that she might not beobserved to think of her own dress; yet was it plain, that her thoughtswere employed on only that and her titles. Miss Jenny Peace, althoughshe would have made it her choice always to have been in company who didnot deserve ridicule, yet had she humour enough to treat affectationas it deserved. And she addressed herself to Lady Caroline with so manyladyships, and such praises of her fine clothes, as she hoped would havemade her ashamed; but Lady Caroline was too full of her own vanity, tosee her design, and only exposed herself ten times the more, till shereally got the better of Miss Jenny, who blushed for her, since she wasincapable of blushing for herself. 

Lady Fanny's dress was plain and neat only, nor did she mention anythingabout it; and it was very visible her thoughts were otherwise employed, neither did she seem to take any delight in the words 'Your ladyship':but she tossed and threw her person about into so many ridiculouspostures, and as there happened unfortunately to be no looking-glassin the room where they sat, she turned and rolled her eyes so manydifferent ways, in endeavouring to view as much of herself as possible, that it was very plain to the whole company she thought herself abeauty, and admired herself for being so. 

Our little society, whose hearts were so open to each other, that theyhad not a thought they endeavoured to conceal, were so filled withcontempt at Lady Caroline and Lady Fanny's behaviour, and yet sostrictly obliged, by good manners, not to show that contempt, thatthe reserve they were forced to put on, laid them under so great arestraint, that they knew not which way to turn themselves, or howto utter one word; and great was their joy when Lady Caroline, as theeldest, led the way, and with a swimming curtsey, her head turned halfround on one shoulder, and a disdainful eye, took her leave, repeatingtwo or three times the word 'misses, ' to put them in mind, that shewas a lady. She was followed by her sister Lady Fanny, who made a slowdistinct curtsey to every one in the room, that she might be thelonger under observation. And then taking Miss Jenny by the hand, said, 'Indeed, Miss, you are very pretty, ' in order to put them in mind of herown beauty. 

Our little society, as soon as they were released, retired to theirarbour, where, for some time, they could talk of nothing but this visit. Miss Jenny Peace remarked how many shapes vanity would turn itself into, and desired them to observe, how ridiculously Lady Caroline Delun turnedher whole thoughts on her dress, and condition of life; and how absurdit was in Lady Fanny, who was a very plain girl, to set up for a beauty, and to behave in a manner which would render her contemptible, even ifshe had that beauty her own vanity made her imagine herself possessedof. 

Miss Nanny Spruce said, 'She was greatly rejoiced that she had seen herfolly; for she could very well remember when she had the same vanity ofdress and superiority of station with Lady Caroline, though she had not, indeed, a title to support it; and in what manner, she said, she wouldtell them in the story of her life. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS NANNY SPRUCE. 

Miss Nanny Spruce was just nine years old, and was the very reverse ofPatty Lockit, in all things; for she had little limbs, little features, and such a compactness in her form, that she was often called the littlefairy. She had the misfortune to be lame in one of her hips; but by goodmanagement, and a briskness and alacrity in carrying herself, it was avery small blemish to her, and looked more like an idle childish gait, than any real defect. 

THE LIFE OF MISS NANNY SPRUCE. 

'My delight, ' said Miss Nanny Spruce, 'ever since I can remember, has been in dress and finery; for whenever I did as I was bid, I waspromised fine coats, ribbons, and laced caps; and when I was stubbornand naughty, then my fine things were all to be locked up, and I was towear only an old stuff coat; so that I thought the only reward I couldhave was to be dressed fine and the only punishment was to be plainlydressed. By this means I delighted so much in fine clothes, that I neverthought of anything but when I should have something new to adorn myselfin; and I have sat whole days considering what should be my next newcoat; for I had always my choice given me of the colour. 

'We lived in a country parish, my papa being the only gentleman, so thatall the little girls in the parish used to take it as a great honour toplay with me. And I used to delight to show them my fine things, and tosee that they could not come at any but very plain coats. However, asthey did not pretend to have anything equal with me, I was kind enoughto them. As to those girls whose parents were so very poor that theywent in rags, I did not suffer them to come near me. 

'Whilst I was at home, I spent my time very pleasantly, as no onepretended to be my equal; but as soon as I came to school, where othermisses were as fine as myself, and some finer, I grew very miserable. Every new coat, every silver ribbon, that any of my schoolfellows wore, made me unhappy. Your scarlet damask, Miss Betty Ford, cost me a week'spain; and I lay awake, and sighed and wept all night, because I did notdare to spoil it. I had several plots in my head, to have dirtied it, orcut it, so as to have made it unfit to wear; by some accident my plotswere prevented; and then I was so uneasy, I could not tell what to dowith myself; and so afraid, lest any body should suspect me of such athing, that I could not sleep in peace, for fear I should dream of it, and in my sleep discover it to my bedfellow. I would not go through thesame dreads and terrors again for the world. But I am very happy now, in having no thoughts but what my companions may know; for since thatquarrel, and Miss Jenny Peace was so good as to show me what I'm sureI never thought of before, that is, that the road to happiness is byconquering such foolish vanities, and the only way to be pleased isto endeavour to please others, I have never known what it was to beuneasy. '

As soon as Miss Nanny had finished speaking, Miss Betty Ford said, thatshe heartily forgave her all her former designs upon her scarlet coat;but, added she, Lady Fanny Delun put me no less in mind of my formerlife, than Lady Caroline did you of yours; and if Miss Jenny pleases, Iwill now relate it. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS BETTY FORD. 

Miss Betty Ford was of the same age with Miss Nanny Spruce, and much ofthe same height, and might be called the plainest girl in the school;for she had nothing pleasing either in her person or face, except anexceeding fair skin, and tolerable good black eyes; but her face wasill-shaped and broad, her hair very red, and all the summer she wasgenerally very full of freckles; and she had also a small hesitation inher speech. But without preamble, she began her life as follows. 

THE LIFE OF MISS BETTY FORD. 

'My life, ' said Miss Betty Ford, 'has hitherto passed very like that ofMiss Nanny Spruce, only with this difference, that as all her thoughtswere fixed on finery, my head ran on nothing but beauty. I had an eldersister, who was, I must own, a great deal handsomer than me; and yet, inmy own mind, at that time, I did not think so, though I was always toldit was not for me to pretend to the same things with pretty Miss Kitty(which was the name of my sister); and in all respects she was taken somuch more notice of than I was, that I perfectly hated her, and couldnot help wishing that, by some accident, her beauty might be spoiled:whenever any visitors came to the house, their praises of her gave methe greatest vexation; and as I had made myself believe I was a verygreat beauty, I thought that it was prejudice and ill-nature in allaround me, not to view me in that light. My sister Kitty was very goodnatured; and though she was thus cried up for her beauty, and indulgedmost on that account, yet she never insulted me, but did all in herpower to oblige me. But I could not love her, and sometimes would raiselies against her, which did not signify, for she could always justifyherself. I could not give any reason for hating her, but her beauty, for she was very good; but the better she was, I thought the worseI appeared. I could not bear her praises without teasing and vexingmyself. At last, little Kitty died of a fever, to my great joy, though, as everybody cried for her, I cried too for company, and because I wouldnot be thought ill-natured. 

'After Kitty's death, I lived tolerably easy, till I came to school. Then the same desire of beauty returned, and I hated all the misses whowere handsomer than myself, as much as I had before hated my sister, andalways took every opportunity of quarrelling with them, till I found myown peace was concerned, in getting the better of this disposition; andthat, if I would have any content, I must not repine at my not being sohandsome as others. '

When Miss Betty Ford ceased, Miss Jenny said, 'Indeed, my dear, it iswell you had not at that time the power of the eagle in the fable;for your poor sister might then, like the peacock, have said in a softvoice, "You are, indeed, a great beauty; but it lies in your beak andyour talons, which make it death to me to dispute it. "'

Miss Betty Ford rejoiced, that her power did not extend to enable her todo mischief, before she had seen her folly. And now this little society, in good humour and cheerfulness, attended their kind governess's summonsto supper; and then, after the evening prayers, they retired to theirpeaceful slumbers. 

MONDAY. THE EIGHTH DAY. 

Early in the morning, after the public prayers which Mrs. Teachum readevery day, our little company took a walk in the garden whilst thebreakfast was preparing. 

The fine weather, the prospects round them, all conspired to increasetheir pleasure. They looked at one another with delight; their mindswere innocent and satisfied; and therefore every outward object waspleasing in their sight. 

Miss Jenny Peace said, she was sure they were happier than any othersociety of children whatever, except where the same harmony and lovewere preserved, as were kept up in their minds: 'For (continued she)I think now, my dear companions, I can answer for you all, thatno mischievous, no malicious plots disturb the tranquility of yourthoughts; plots, which in the end, constantly fall on the head ofthose who invent them, after all the pains they cost in forming, andendeavouring to execute. '

Whilst Miss Jenny Peace was talking, Miss Dolly Friendly looked at hervery earnestly. She would not interrupt her; but the moment she wassilent, Miss Dolly said, 'My dear Miss Jenny, what is the matter withyou? your eyes are swelled, and you look as if you had been crying. Ifyou have any grief that you keep to yourself, you rob us of the share wehave a right to demand in all that belongs to you. '

'No, indeed (answered Miss Jenny), I have nothing that grieves me;though, if I had, I should think it increased, rather than lessened, byyour being grieved too; but last night, after I went upstairs, I foundamongst my books the play of the Funeral, or, Grief-a-la-mode; where thefaithful and tender behaviour of a good old servant, who had long livedin his lord's family, with many other passages in the play (which Icannot explain, unless you knew the whole story) made me cry, so that Icould hardly stop my tears. '

'Pray, Miss Jenny, let us hear this play, that had such an effect onyou, ' was the general request; and Miss Jenny readily promised, whenthey met in their arbour, to read it to them. 

They eagerly ran to their arbour as soon as school was over, and MissJenny performed her promise, and was greatly pleased to find such asympathy between her companions and herself; for they were most of themaffected just in the same manner, and with the same parts of the play, as had before affected her. 

By the time they had wiped their eyes, and were rejoicing at the turnat the end of the play, in favour of the characters with which they weremost pleased, Mrs. Teachum entered the arbour, and inquired what theyhad been reading. Miss Jenny immediately told her, adding, 'I hope, Madam, you will not think reading a play an improper amusement for us;for I should be very sorry to be guilty myself, or cause my companionsto be guilty, of any thing that would meet with your disapprobation. 'Mrs. Teachum answered, that she was not at all displeased with herhaving read a play, as she saw by her fear of offending, that herdiscretion was to be trusted to. 'Nay (continued this good woman), Ilike that you should know something of all kinds of writings, whereneither morals nor manners are offended; for if you read plays, andconsider them as you ought, you will neglect and despise what is lightand useless, whilst you will imprint on your mind's every useful lessonthat is to be drawn from them. I am very well acquainted with the playyou have been reading; but that I may see whether you give the properattention to what you have heard, I desire, my little girls, that one ofyou will give me an account of the chief incidents in the play, and tellme the story, just as you would do to one of your companions that hadhappened to have been absent. '

Here they all looked upon Miss Jenny Peace, as thinking her the mostcapable of doing what their governess required. But Mrs. Teachum, reading their thoughts in their looks, said, 'I exclude Miss Jenny inthis case; for as the play was of her choosing to read to you, I doubtnot but she is thoroughly enough acquainted with every part of it; andmy design was to try the memory and attention of some of the others. '

They all remained silent, and seemed to wait for a more particularcommand, before any one would offer at the undertaking; not throughany backwardness to comply with Mrs. Teachum's request, but each from adiffidence of herself to perform it. 

Miss Jenny Peace then said, that she had observed a great attention inthem all; and she did not doubt but every one was able to give a verygood account of what they had heard. 'But, as Miss Sukey Jennet is theeldest, I believe, madam, (continued she), if you approve it, they willall be very ready to depute her as their speaker. '

Each smiled at being so relieved by Miss Jenny; and Mrs. Teachum, takingMiss Sukey Jennet by the hand, said, 'Come, my dear, throw off all fearand reserve; imagine me one of your companions, and tell me the story ofthe play you have been reading. '

Miss Sukey, thus encouraged by her kind governess, without anyhesitation, spoke in the following manner:

'If I understand your commands, madam, by telling the story of the play, you would not have me tell you the acts and scenes as they followed oneanother for that I am afraid I can hardly remember, as I have heardit only once but I must describe the chief people in the play, and theplots and contrivances that are carried on amongst them. '

Mrs. Teachum nodded her head, and Miss Sukey thus proceeded:

'There is an old Lord Brumpton, who had married a young wife, that hadlived with him some years, and by her deceitful and cunning ways hadprevailed with him to disinherit his only son Lord Hardy (who was a verysensible good young man) and to leave him but a shilling. And this LordBrumpton was taken in a fit, so that all the house thought he was dead, and his lady sent for an undertaker, one Mr. Sable, to bury him. Butcoming out of his fit, when nobody but this Mr. Sable, and an oldservant, called Trusty, were by, he was prevailed upon by the good oldTrusty to feign himself still dead (and the undertaker promises secrecy)in order to detect the wickedness of his wife, which old Trusty assureshim is very great; and then he carries his lord where he overhearsa discourse between the widow (as she thinks herself) and her maidTattleaid; and he bears his once beloved wife rejoicing in his supposeddeath, and in the success of her own arts to deceive him. Then there aretwo young ladies, Lady Charlotte and Lady Harriet Lovely, to whom thisLord Brumpton was guardian; and he had also left them in the care ofthis wicked woman. And this young Lord Hardy was in love with LadyCharlotte; and Mr. Camply, a very lively young gentleman, his friend, was in love with Lady Harriet and Lady Brumpton locked the two youngladies up, and would not let them be seen by their lovers. But thereat last they contrived, by the help of old Trusty, who had their realguardian's consent for it, both to get away; and Lady Harriet marriedMr. Camply directly; but Lady Charlotte did not get away so soon, andso was not married till the end of the play. This Mr. Camply was avery generous man, and was newly come to a large fortune; and in thebeginning of the play he contrives, in a very genteel manner, to givehis friend Lord Hardy, who very much wanted it, three hundred pounds;but he takes care to let us know, that my lord had formerly, when hewaited his assistance, been very kind to him. And there at last, whenLady Brumpton finds out that the two young ladies are gone, she goesaway in a rage to Lord Hardy's lodgings, and in an insulting manner shepays all due legacies, as she calls it, that is, she gives Lord Hardythe shilling, which, by her wicked arts, was all his father had lefthim; and she was insulting the young ladies, and glorying in herwickedness, when honest old Trusty came in, and brought in old LordBrumpton, whom they imagined to be dead, and all but Lady Brumptonwere greatly overjoyed to see him alive; but when he taxed her withher falsehood, she defied him, and said that she had got a deed ofgift under his hand, which he could not revoke, and she WOULD enjoy hisfortune in spite of him. Upon which they all looked sadly vexed, tillthe good old Trusty went out and came in again, and brought in a mancalled Cabinet, who confessed himself the husband to the pretended LadyBrumpton, and that he was married to her half a year before she wasmarried to my Lord Brumpton; but as my lord happened to fall in lovewith her, they agreed to keep their marriage concealed, in order thatshe should marry my lord, and cheat him in the manner she had done; andthe reason that Cabinet came to confess all this was, that he lookedinto a closet and saw my lord writing, after he thought he was dead, and, taking it for his ghost, was by that means frightened into thisconfession, which he first made in writing to old Trusty, and thereforecould not now deny it. They were all rejoiced at this discovery, exceptthe late pretended Lady Brumpton, who sneaked away with Cabinet herhusband; and my Lord Brumpton embraced his son, and gave his consent, that he should marry Lady Charlotte; and they were all pleased andhappy. '

Here Miss Sukey ceased, and Mrs. Teachum told her she was a very goodgirl, and had remembered a great deal of the play. 'But (said she) intime, with using yourself to this way of repeating what you have read, you will come to a better manner, and a more regular method of tellingyour story, which you was now so intent upon finishing, that you forgotto describe what sort of women those two young ladies were, though, asto all the rest, you have been particular enough. '

'Indeed, madam, (said Miss Sukey), I had forgot that, but Lady Charlottewas a very sensible, grave young lady, and lady Harriet was extremelygay and coquettish; but Mr. Camply tells her how much it misbecomes herto be so and she having good sense, as well as good nature, is convincedof her folly, and likes him so well for his reproof, that she consentsto marry him. '

Mrs. Teachum, addressing herself to them all, told them, that this wasa method she wished they would take with whatever they read; for nothingso strongly imprinted anything on the memory as such a repetition; andthen turning to Miss Jenny Peace, she said, 'And now, Miss Jenny, Idesire you will speak freely what you think is the chief moral to bedrawn from the play you have just read. '

Miss Jenny being thus suddenly asked a question of this nature, considered some time before she gave an answer; for she was naturallyvery diffident of her own opinion in anything where she had not beenbefore instructed by some one she thought wiser than herself. At last, with a modest look, and an humble voice, she said, 'Since, madam, you have commanded me to speak my sentiments freely, I think by whathappened to each character in this play, the author intended to provewhat my good mamma first taught me, and what you, madam, since have sostrongly confirmed me in; namely, that folly, wickedness, and misery, all three, as constantly dwell together, as wisdom, virtue, andhappiness do. '

''Tis very true (answered Mrs. Teachum); but this moral does not ariseonly from the happy turn in favour of the virtuous characters in theconclusion of the play, but is strongly inculcated, as you see allalong, in the peace of mind that attends the virtuous, even in themidst of oppression and distress, while the event is yet doubtful, andapparently against them; and, on the contrary, in the confusion of mindwhich the vicious are tormented with, even whilst they falsely imaginethemselves triumphant. '

Mrs. Teachum then taking the book out of Miss Jenny's hands, and turningto the passage, said, 'How does Lady Brumpton show us the wretchedcondition of her own mind, when she says, '"How miserable 'tis to have one one hates always about one! And whenone can't endure one's own reflections upon some actions, who can bearthe thoughts of another upon them?"

'Then with what perturbation of mind does she proceed, to wish it was inher power to increase her wickedness, without making use enough of herunderstanding, to see that by that means she would but increase her ownmisery. 

'On the other hand, what a noble figure does Lord Hardy make, when, bythis wicked woman's contrivances, he thinks himself disinherited of hiswhole fortune, ill-treated, and neglected by a father, he never had inthought offended! He could give an opportunity to a sincere friend, whowould not flatter him, to say, '"No; you are, my lord, the extraordinary man, who, on the loss of analmost princely fortune, can be master of a temper that makes you theenvy rather than pity, of your more fortunate, not more happy friends. "

'This is a fine distinction between fortunate and happy; and intimatesthis happiness must dwell in the mind, and depends upon no outwardaccidents. 

'Fortune, indeed, is a blessing, if properly used; which Camply shows, when by that means he can assist and relieve his worthy friend. 

'With what advantage does Lady Charlotte appear over her sister, whenthe latter is trifling and dancing before the glass, and the formersays, '"If I am at first so silly as to be a little taken with myself, I knowit is a fault, and take pains to correct it. "

'And on Lady Harriet's saying, very giddily, that it was too soon forher to think at that rate, Lady Charlotte properly adds, '"They that think it too soon to understand themselves, will very soonfind it too late. "

'In how ridiculous a light does Lady Harriet appear, while she isdisplaying all that foolish coquetry! And how different a figure doesshe make, when she has got the better of it?

'My Lady Brumpton, when alarmed with the least noise, breaks out intoall the convulsive starts natural to conscious guilt. 

'"Ha! what noise is that--that noise of fighting?--Run, I say. --Whitherare you going?--What, are you mad?--Will you leave me alone?--Can't youstir?--What, you can't take your message with you!--Whatever 'tis, Isuppose you are not in the plot, not you--nor that now they're breakingopen my house for Charlotte--Not you. --Go see what's the matter, I say;I have nobody I can trust. --One minute I think this wench honest, andthe next false. --Whither shall I turn me?"

'This is a picture of the confused, the miserable mind of a close, malicious, cruel, designing woman, as Lady Brumpton was, and as LadyHarriet very properly calls her. 

'Honesty and faithfulness shine forth in all their lustre, in thegood old Trusty. We follow him throughout with anxious wishes for hissuccess, and tears of joy for his tenderness. And when he finds that heis likely to come at the whole truth, and to save his lord from beingdeceived and betrayed into unjustly ruining his noble son, you mayremember that he makes this pious reflection:

All that is ours, is to be justly bent; And Heaven in its own time willbless th' event. 

'This is the natural thought that proceeds from innocence and goodness;and surely this state of mind is happiness. 

'I have only pointed out a few passages, to show you, that though it isthe nature of comedy to end happily, and therefore the good charactersmust be successful in the last act; yet the moral lies deeper, and isto be deduced from a proof throughout this play, that the naturalconsequence of vice is misery within, even in the midst of an apparenttriumph; and the natural consequence of goodness is a calm peace ofmind, even in the midst of oppression and distress. 

'I have endeavoured, my little dears, to show you, as clearly as I can, not only what moral is to be drawn from this play, but what is to besought for in all others; and where that moral is not to be found, thewriter will have it to answer for, that he has been guilty of one ofthe worst of evils; namely, that he has clothed vice in so beautifula dress, that, instead of deterring, it will allure and draw into itssnares the young and tender mind. And I am sorry to say, that too manyof our dramatic performances are of this latter cast; which isthe reason, that wise and prudent parents and governors in generaldiscourage in very young people the reading of plays. And though by whatI have said (if it makes a proper impression) I doubt not but you willall have a just abhorrence of such immoral plays, instead of beingpleased with them, should they fall in your way; yet I would advise yourather to avoid them, and never to read any but such as are approved of;and recommended to you by those who have the care of your education. '

Here good Mrs. Teachum ceased, and left her little scholars to reflecton what she had been saying; when Miss Jenny Peace declared, for herpart, that she could feel the truth of her governess's observations; forshe had rather be the innocent Lord Hardy, though she was to have butthat one shilling in the world which was so insolently offered him ashis father's last legacy, than be the Lady Brumpton, even though she hadpossessed the fortune she so treacherously endeavoured to obtain. 

'Nay (said Miss Dolly Friendly) I had rather have been old Trusty, withall the infirmities of age, following my Lord Hardy through the world, had his poverty and distress been ever so great, than have been themalicious Lady Brumpton, in the height of her beauty, surrounded by acrowd of lovers and flatterers. '

Miss Henny Fret then declared how glad she was that she had now nomalice in her mind; though she could not always have said so, as shewould inform them in the history of her past life. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS HENNY FRET. 

Miss Henny Fret was turned of nine years old. She was very prettilymade, and remarkably genteel. All her features were regular. She was notvery fair, and looked pale. Her upper lip seemed rather shorter than itshould be; for it was drawn up in such a manner, as to show her upperteeth; and though this was in some degree natural, yet it had been verymuch increased by her being continually on the fret for every triflingaccident that offended her, or on every contradiction that was offeredto her. When you came to examine her face, she had not one feature butwhat was pretty; yet, from that constant uneasiness which appeared inher countenance, it gave you so little pleasure to look at her, that sheseldom had common justice done her, but had generally hitherto passedfor a little insignificant plain girl, though her very face was soaltered since she was grown good natured, and had got the better of thatfoolish fretfulness she used to be possessed of, that she appeared fromher good-humoured smiles quite a different person; and, with a mildaspect, thus began her story:

THE LIFE OF MISS HENNY FRET. 

'I had one brother, ' said Miss Henny, 'as well as Miss Jenny Peace; butmy manner of living with him was quite the reverse to that in whichshe lived with her brother. All my praise or blame was to arise from mybeing better or worse than my brother. If I was guilty of any fault, it was immediately said, "Oh! fie, miss! Master George (that was mybrother's name) would not be guilty of such a thing for the world. " Ifhe was carried abroad, and I stayed at home, then I was bemoaned over, that poor Miss Henny was left at home, and her brother carried abroad. And then I was told, that I should go abroad one of these days, and mybrother be left at home so that whenever I went abroad, my greatest joywas, that he was left at home; and I was pleased to see him come outto the coach-door with a melancholy air that he could not go too. Ifmy brother happened to have any fruit given him, and was in a peevishhumour, and would not give me as much as I desired, the servant thatattended me was sure to bid me take care, when I had anything he waited, not to give him any. So that I thought, if I did not endeavour to berevenged of him, I should show a want of spirit, which was of all thingswhat I dreaded most. I had a better memory than my brother, and wheneverI learnt anything, my comfort was to laugh at him because he could notlearn so fast; by which means I got a good deal of learning, but neverminded what I learnt, nor took any pains to keep it; so that what I waseager to learn one day, to show George how much I knew more than he, Iforgot the next. And so I went on learning, and forgetting as fast as Ilearnt; and all the pains I took served only to show that I COULD learn. 

'I was so great a favourite, that I was never denied any thing Iasked for; but I was very unhappy for the same reason that Miss DollyFriendly's sister was so; and I have often sat down and cried, because Idid not know what I would have, till at last I own I grew so peevish andhumoursome, that I was always on the fret, and harboured in my mind akind of malice that made me fancy whatever my brother got, I lost; andin this unhappy condition I lived, till I came to school, and here Ifound that other misses wanted to have their humours as well as myself. This I could not bear, because I had been used to have my own will, andnever to trouble myself about what others felt. For whenever I beat orabused my brother, his pain did not make me cry; but I believe it wasthinking wrong made me guilty of these faults; for I don't find I amill-natured; for now I have been taught to consider that my companionscan feel as well as myself, I am sorry for their pain, and glad whenthey are pleased, and would be glad to do anything to oblige them. '

Here Miss Henny ceased, and Miss Jenny Peace then told her how glad shewas to hear that she had subdued all malice in her mind, adding, 'Theseweeds, my dear, unless early plucked up, are (as I have heard our goodgoverness observe upon a like occasion) very apt to take such deep root, as to choke every good seed around them; and then who can tell whether, with the same opportunities, they might not become Lady Brumptons beforethe end of their lives?'

Little Polly Suckling remembered that all the company had told the storyof their past lives, except herself; and she thought she would not beleft out; but yet she had a mind to be asked to tell it, hoping that hercompanions thought her of consequence enough not to leave her out ofany scheme; therefore, addressing herself to Miss Jenny, she said shethought it was very pleasant to hear anybody tell the history of theirown lives. Miss Jenny saw her meaning, and answered, 'So it is, mylittle dear; and now, if you please, you shall oblige us with relatingthe history of yours. ' Polly smiled at this request, and said she wasready to comply. 

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS POLLY SUCKLING. 

Miss Polly Suckling was just turned of eight years old, but so shortof her age, that few people took her to be above five. It was not adwarfish shortness; for she had the most exact proportioned limbs inthe world, very small bones, and was as fat as a little cherub. She wasextremely fair, and her hair quite flaxen. Her eyes a perfect blue, hermouth small, and her lips quite plump and red. She had the freshnessof a milkmaid; and when she smiled and laughed, she seemed to show anhundred agreeable dimples. She was, in short, the very picture of healthand good-humour, and was the plaything and general favorite of the wholeschool. 

THE LIFE OF MISS POLLY SUCKLING. 

'Now, ' said little Polly, 'I will tell you all my whole history. Ihardly remember anything before I came to school, for I was but fiveyears old when I was brought hither. 

'All I know is, that I don't love quarrelling, for I like better tolive in peace and quietness. But I have been always less than any ofmy companions, ever since I have been here; and so I only followed theexample of the rest; and as I found they contended about everything, Idid so too. Besides, I have been always in fear that my schoolfellowswanted to impose on me, because I was little; and so I used to engage inevery quarrel, rather than be left out, as if I was too little to giveany assistance; but, indeed, I am very glad now we all agree, because Ialways came by the worst of it. And, besides, it is a great pleasureto me to be loved, and every Miss is kind and good to me, and ready toassist me whenever I ask them. And this is all I know of my whole life. '

When little Polly ceased, she was kissed and applauded by the wholecompany, for the agreeable simplicity of her little history. 

And thus ended the eighth day's amusement. 

TUESDAY. THE NINTH DAY. 

Miss Jenny rose early in the morning, and, having collected the lives ofher companions (which she had wrote down each day, as they related them)she carried them, after morning school, according to her promise, to hergoverness. 

Mrs. Teachum, when she had perused them, was much pleased; and said thatshe perceived, by the manner in which her scholars had related theirlives, how much they were in earnest in their design of amendment. 'For(continued she) they have all confessed their faults without reserve;and the untowardly bent of their minds, which so strongly appearedbefore the quarrel, has not broke out in these their little histories;but, on the contrary, they all seem, according to their capacities, tohave endeavoured at imitating your style, in the account you gave ofyour own life. I would have you continue to employ your leisure hoursin the manner you have lately done, only setting apart a proper timefor exercise; and today I will dispense with your attendance in theschool-room and indulge you this afternoon in another walk, either tothe dairy house, or to the cherry-garden, whichever you all agree on. But as I shall not go with you myself, and shall only find a servantto take care of you, I hope to hear from you, Miss Jenny, so good anaccount of the behaviour of your little friends and companions, that Ishall have no cause to repent my indulgence. '

Miss Jenny Peace respectfully took leave of her governess, and hastenedto the arbour, where her little friends were met, in expectation of hercoming. She told them how well pleased their governess was with themall, for the ingenuous confession of their faults in their past lives;and she then declared Mrs. Teachum's kind permission to them to takeanother walk that afternoon. 

As no one had at present any story to read or relate, they employedtheir time till dinner, some in walking and running about the garden;others in looking after and tending some plant or flower, that they hadtaken particularly under their care, which Mrs. Teachum both permittedand encouraged them in, whilst Miss Jenny Peace, Miss Sukey Jennett, and Miss Dolly Friendly, remained in the arbour, the two latter askinga thousand questions of the former, both concerning all the instructionsshe had ever learned from her mamma, and by what means they should bestbe able to preserve that friendship and happiness, which had of latesubsisted amongst them; saying, how pleased their friends and relationswould be, to see such a change in their temper and behaviour, and howmuch they should be beloved by every one. 

When they met at dinner, Mrs. Teachum asked them, whether they haddetermined upon the choice she had given them in their afternoon's walk;and they were all desirous of going to the dairy house; for little Pollysaid, she longed to see the good-humoured old woman again, and, indeed, she would not now say anything to her of her shaking head, or hergrey hair. Mrs. Teachum was pleased, that little Polly so gratefullyremembered the old woman, who had been so kind to her; and readilyconsented to their choice, and approved of their determination. 

Being soon equipped for their walk, they set out, attended by twomaidservants; and as soon as they arrived, the good old woman expressedthe highest joy on seeing them, and told little Polly, that she shouldhave plenty of cream and strawberries, for her daughter had been thatday in the wood, and had brought home three baskets of very fine ones. Mrs. Nelly, her daughter, said very crossly, that she supposed therewould be fine work amongst them, now their governess was not with them;but 'twas her mother's way, to let all children be as rude as theypleased. Miss Sukey Jennett, with some indignation in her look, wasgoing to answer her; but Miss Jenny Peace, fearing she would saysomething less mild than she wished, gave her a nod; and, turning to theyoung woman, with great modesty and temper, thus said: 'You shall see, Mrs. Nelly, that our good governess's instructions are of more forcewith us, than to lose all their effect when we are out of her presence;and I hope you will have no cause, when we go away, to complain of theill behaviour of any of us. '

The good old woman declared she never saw such sweet-tempered childrenin all her life; and after they had eat their strawberries and cream, and were loaded with pinks and roses by the good woman's bounty (forthey did not gather one without her permission), they took their leavewith the utmost civility, and Miss Jenny handsomely rewarded the oldwoman for her good cheer. Mrs. Nelly herself was so pleased with theirregular and inoffensive behaviour, that she could not help telling MissJenny, that she, and all her companions, had, indeed, behaved as well asif their governess had been with them: on which Miss Jenny (as they werewalking home) observed to Miss Sukey Jennett (whom she had preventedfrom making any reply to Mrs. Nelly's speech) how much better it was togain another's good will by our own endeavours to be obliging, than toprovoke them to be more cross, by our angry answers and reproaches. 

When this little company, employed in pleasing talk and livelyobservations, were come within about a mile of Mrs. Teachum's house, andwithin view of a nobleman's fine seat, Miss Jenny said, that the nexttime their governess permitted them to walk out, she would ask herleave, that they might go and see that fine house; for some time ago shehad told them, that they should go thither when the family were absent. Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, who by chance was walking that way, andheard what Miss Jenny said, came up to them, and told Miss Jenny thather lord and lady were now both absent, having set out, one for London, and the other for another fine seat, forty miles off, that very morning;and as she knew them to be Mrs. Teachum's well-regulated family, theyshould be welcome to see the house and gardens now, if they liked it. Miss Jenny thanked her, and said, as it was near two hours sooner thantheir governess expected them home, she would accept of her kind offer. The housekeeper led them through an avenue of tall elm-trees into thismagnificent house, in which were many spacious apartments, furnishedwith the utmost grandeur and elegance. Some of the rooms were adornedwith fine pictures, others were hung with tapestry almost as lively asthose paintings, and most of the apartments above stairs were furnishedwith the finest sorts of needle-work. Our little company were struckinto a sort of silent wonder and admiration at the splendid appearanceof everything around them; nor could they find words to express thevarious reflections that passed in their minds, on seeing such a varietyof dazzling gaudy things: but when they came to the needlework, MissJenny could not help smiling, to see how every one seemed most fixed inattention upon that sort of work, which she herself was employed in, andshe saw in every face a secret wish, that their own piece of work mightbe finished with equal neatness and perfection. The housekeeper wasgreatly pleased to see them so much delighted, and answered all theirquestions concerning the stories that were represented in the picturesand tapestry as fully as the time would permit; but Miss Jenny, beingfearful of exceeding the hour in which they would be expected home, toldthem they must not now stay any longer, but if their governess wouldgive them leave, and it would not be troublesome to Mrs. Wilson, theywould come another time. She answered, that it was so far from beingtroublesome, that she never had more pleasure in her life, than to seeso many well-behaved young ladies, who all seemed not only pleased withwhat they saw, but doubly delighted, and happy, in seeing each other so;and for her part, she could wish they were to stay with her all theirlives; and, in short, they should not go till they had been in her room, and eat some sweetmeats of her own making. The good woman seemed to takeso much delight in giving them any pleasure, that Miss Jenny could notrefuse accepting her offer; and, when they were all in her room, PollySuckling said, 'Well, this is a most charming house; I wish we could alllive here for ever. How happy must the lord and lady of this fine placebe!'

'Indeed, my little Polly, ' said Miss Jenny, 'you may be very muchmistaken; for you know our good governess has taught us, that there isno happiness but in the content of our own minds; and perhaps we mayhave more pleasure in viewing these fine things, than the owners have inthe possession of them. '

'It is very true, ' said the housekeeper, 'for my lord and lady have nodelight in all this magnificence; for, by being so accustomed to it, they walk through all these apartments, and never so much as observe oramuse themselves with the work, the pictures, or anything else, or ifthey observe them at all, it is rather with a look that denotes a sortof weariness, at seeing the same things continually before them, thanwith any kind of pleasure. ' And then, with a deep sigh, she added, 'Youare, indeed, young lady, perfectly in the right, when you say grandeurand happiness do not always go together. ' But turning off the discourse, Mrs. Wilson forced them to take as many dried sweetmeats as theycould carry away with them, and insisted upon their promise (withMrs. Teachum's consent) that they should come another time to see thegardens. They then took their leave with many thanks, and the greatestcivility; and discoursed all the way home, on the fine things theyhad seen. Miss Betty Ford said, that the fine gilding, and so manyglittering looking-glasses, made her think herself in Barbarico's greathall, where he kept all his treasure. 

'No, ' says Miss Nancy Spruce, 'it was not half so much like that, as itwas like Brunetta's fine castle; and I could not help thinking myselfthe Princess Hebe, and how much I should have been pleased with such afine place at first, just as she was. '

'Indeed, ' says Miss Betty Ford, 'you are in the right of it, Miss Nanny;for 'twas much more like the description of Brunetta's castle, than whatI said myself. '

Miss Jenny was pleased to hear Miss Betty so ready to own herselfmistaken; and said to Miss Nanny Spruce, 'I am glad, my dear, tofind that you so well remember what you read; for it is by recallingfrequently into our memories the things we have read, that they arelikely to be of any service to us. '

Being now come home, they entered into the presence of their governesswith that pleasure, and proper confidence, which ever attends innocenceand goodness; and Mrs. Teachum received them with a pleasing smile. 

Miss Jenny gave her governess a faithful account of all that had passed, with the agreeable entertainment they had accidentally met with, ofseeing Lord X----'s fine house, and the great civility of Mrs. Wilson, 'Which I hope, madam, ' said Miss Jenny, 'I did not do wrong inaccepting. ' 'You did very properly, my dear, ' said Mrs. Teachum, 'forwhen any person is willing to oblige you, without any inconvenience tothemselves, it is always right to accept their offer, as you therebygratify them, by putting it in their power to give you pleasure. '

Miss Jenny then with great cheerfulness and freedom, told her governessall that had paled in conversation, both in their walk to thedairy house, and at Lord X--'s, what little Polly had said in thehousekeeper's room, as also Mrs. Wilson's answer; and said, by Mrs. Wilson's downcast look, she was afraid that poor Lord X---- and his ladywere not so happy as might be wished. 'But, ' continued she, 'I didnot ask Mrs. Wilson any questions, because you have taught me, madam, carefully to avoid the least appearance of impertinent curiosity. '

'You was very right, my dear, ' said Mrs. Teachum, 'in asking no fartherquestions; nor would she, I dare say, as she is a prudent woman, havegratified you if you had; for though the unhappy story is too well knownall over the country, yet it would have been very unbecoming in oneof the family to have published it. ' Mrs. Teachum saw in her littlescholars' eyes, a secret wish of knowing what this story was; and, aftera short pause, she said, 'Since I find you disposed, my good girls, tomake the proper use of what you hear, I will indulge your curiosity. 

'Lord X---- and his lady have been married seven years; Lord X---- isthe wretchedest creature breathing, because he has no children, andtherefore no heir to his title and large estate. He was naturally of ahaughty impetuous temper, and impatient of any the least disappointment;and this disposition not being subdued in his youth, has led him intoall sort of excesses. His lady is not much better tempered than himself, and valuing herself highly upon her beauty, and the large fortuneshe brought him, greatly resents his sometimes insolent, and alwaysneglectful usage of her. They have hitherto lived on in the mostjarring, disputing manner, and took no care to conceal their quarrelsfrom the world; but at last they have agreed to part by consent, and thedifferent journeys they this morning took, I suppose, was with an intentof final separation. 

'That grandeur and happiness do not always go together (as Mrs. Wilsonobserved to you) is seen by this story, which I was the more willingto tell you, as it was a proper introduction to a fable I have beencollecting together from others, for your use. You know that all myendeavours to make you good, are only intended to make you happy; andif you thoroughly reflect upon the truth of this maxim, which I so oftenendeavour to inculcate, you will doubtless reap no small advantage fromit. '

Here Mrs. Teachum ceased speaking, and, giving Miss Jenny Peace a paper, she bid her read it aloud; which she did, and it contained the followingfable:

THE ASSEMBLY OF THE BIRDS. A FABLE. 

In ancient days, there was a great contention amongst the birds, which, from his own perfections, and peculiar advantages, had the strongesttitle to happiness; and at last they agreed to refer the decision of thedebate to the eagle. 

A day was appointed for their meeting; the eagle took his seat, and thebirds all attended to give in their several pleas. 

First spoke the parrot. Her voice so dearly resembling human speech, andwhich enabled her to converse with such a superior race, she doubted not(she said) would have its just weight with the eagle, and engage him togrant a decree in her favour; and to this plea she also added, that shedwelt in a fine cage adorned with gold, and was fed every day by thehands a fair lady. 

'And pray, Mrs. Poll, ' said the eagle, 'how comes it, since you fare sosumptuously, that you are so lean and meagre, and seem scarcely ableto exert that voice you thus make your boast of?' 'Alas!' repliedthe parrot, 'poor Poll's lady has kept her bed almost this week; theservants have all forgot to feed me; and I am almost starved. ' 'Prayobserve, ' said the eagle, 'the folly of such pride! Had you been able tohave conversed only with your own kind, you would have fared in commonwith them; but it is to this vaunted imitation of the human voice, thatyou owe your confinement, and consequently (though living in a goldencage) your dependence upon the will and memory of others, even forcommon necessary food. '

Thus reproved, the parrot, with shame, hastily retired from theassembly. 

Next stood forth the daw, and, having tricked himself in all the gayfeathers he could muster together, on the credit of these borrowedornaments, pleaded his beauty, as a title to the preference in dispute. Immediately the birds agreed to divest the silly counterfeit of all hisborrowed plumes; and, more abashed than the parrot, he secretly slunkaway. 

The peacock, proud of native beauty, now flew into the midst of theassembly. He displayed before the sun his gorgeous tail. 'Observe (saidhe) how the vivid blue of the sapphire glitters in my neck; and whenthus I spread my tail, a gemmy brightness strikes the eye from a plumagevaried with a thousand glowing colours. ' At this moment, a nightingalebegan to chant forth his melodious lay; at which the peacock, droppinghis expanded tail, cried out, 'Ah what avails my silent unmeaningbeauty, when I am so far excelled in voice by such a littlerusset-feathered wretch as that!' And, by retiring, he gave up all claimto the contended-for preference. 

The nightingale was so delighted with having got the better of thepeacock, that he exerted his little voice, and was so lost in theconceit of his own melody, that he did not observe a hawk, who flew uponhim, and carried him off in his claws. 

The eagle then declared, 'That as the peacock's envy had taken away allhis claim, so no less had the nightingale's self-conceit frustratedall his pretensions; for those who are so wrapped up in their ownperfections, as to mind nothing but themselves, are forever liable toall sorts of accidents. ' And, besides, it was plain, by the exultationthe nightingale expressed on his imagined glory over the peacock, thathe would have been equally dejected on any preference given to another. 

And now the owl, with an affected gravity, and whooting voice, pleadedhis well-known wisdom; and said, 'He doubted not but the preferencewould be granted to him without contest, by all the whole assembly forwhat was so likely to produce happiness as wisdom?'

The eagle declared, 'That, if his title to wisdom could be proved, thejustice of his claim should be allowed; and then asked him, how he couldconvince them of the truth of what he had advanced?' The owl answered, 'That he would willingly appeal to the whole assembly for theirdecision in this point; for he was positive nobody could deny his greatsuperiority as to wisdom. ' Being separately asked, they most of themdeclared, that they knew no one reason, either from his words oractions, to pronounce him a wise bird; though it was true, that by anaffected solemnity in his looks, and by frequent declarations of hisown, that he was very wife, he had made some very silly birds givehim that character; but, since they were called upon to declare theiropinions, they must say, that he was ever the object of contempt to allthose birds who had any title to common understanding. The eagle thensaid, 'He could by no means admit a plea, which as plainly appearedto be counterfeit, as were the jay's borrowed feathers. ' The owl, thusdisappointed, flew away, and has ever since shunned the light of thesun, and has never appeared in the daytime, but to be scorned andwondered at. 

It would be endless to repeat all the several pleas brought by thebirds, each desiring to prove, that happiness ought to be his ownpeculiar lot. But the eagle observing that the arguments made use of toprove their point were chiefly drawn from the disadvantages of others, rather than from any advantage of their own, told them, 'There was toomuch envy and malice amongst them, for him to pronounce any of themdeserving or capable of being happy; but I wonder, ' says he, 'why thedove alone is absent from this meeting?' 'I know of one in her nest hardby, ' answered the redbreast, 'shall I go and call her?' 'No, ' says theeagle, 'since she did not obey our general summons, 'tis plain she hadno ambition for a public preference; but I will take two or three chosenfriends, and we will go softly to her nest, and see in what manner sheis employing herself; for from our own observations upon the actionsof any one, we are more likely to form a judgment of them, than by anyboasts they can make. '

The eagle was obeyed, and, accompanied only by the linnet, the lark, thelapwing, and the redbreast for his guide, he stole gently to the placewhere the dove was found hovering over her nest, waiting the return ofher absent mate; and, thinking herself quite unobserved, [*] While o'er her callow brood she hung, She fondly thus address'd her young: 'Ye tender objects of my care, Peace! peace! ye little helpless pair. Anon! he comes, your gentle sire, And brings you all your hearts require; For us, his infants and his bride, For us, with only love to guide, Our lord assumes an eagle's speed, And, like a lion, dares to bleed: Nor yet by wintry skies confin'd, He mounts upon the rudest wind, From danger tears the vital spoil, And with affection sweetens toil. Ah! cease, too vent'rous, cease to dare; In thine, our dearer safety spare. From him, ye cruel falcons stray; And turn, ye fowlers, far away, --All-giving Pow'r, great source of life, Oh! hear the parent, hear the wife: That life thou lendest from above, Though little, make it large in love. Oh! bid my feeling heart expand To ev'ry claim on ev'ry hand, To those, from whom my days I drew, To these in whom those days renew, To all my kin, however wide, In cordial warmth as blood allied. To friends in steely fetters twin'd And to the cruel not unkind; But chief the lord of my desire, My life, myself, my soul, my sire, Friends, children, all that wish can claim, Chaste passion clasp, and rapture name. Oh! spare him, spare him, gracious Pow'r: Oh! give him to my latest hour, Let me my length of life employ, To give my sole enjoyment joy. His love let mutual love excite; Turn all my cares to his delight, And ev'ry needless blessing spare, Wherein my darling wants a share. --Let one unruffled calm delight The loving and belov'd unite; One pure desire our bosoms warm; One will direct, one wish inform; Through life one mutual aid sustain; In death one peaceful grave contain. ' While, swelling with the darling theme, Her accents pour'd an endless stream. The well-known wings a sound impart That reach'd her ear, and touch'd her heart. Quick dropp'd the music of her tongue, And forth, with eager joy, she sprung. As swift her ent'ring consort flew, And plum'd, and kindled at the view. Their wings, their souls, embracing, meet, Their hearts with answ'ring measure beat, Half lost in sacred sweets, and bless'd With raptures felt, but ne'er express'd. Strait to her humble roof she led The partner of her spotless bed; Her young, a flutt'ring pair, arise, Their welcome sparkling in their eyes, Transported, to their sire they bound, And hang, with speechless action, round. In pleasure wrapt, the parents stand, And see their little wings expand; The sire his life sustaining prize To each expecting bill applies; There fondly pours the wheaten spoil, With transport giv'n, though won with toil; While, all collected at the sight, And silent through supreme delight, The fair high heav'n of bliss beguiles, And on her lord and infants smiles. 

 [*] These verses are a quotation from that tender fable of the Sparrow and the Dove, in the 'Fables for the Female Sex. '

The eagle now, without any hesitation, pronounced the dove to bedeservedly the happiest of the feathered kind; and however unwilling therest of the birds were to assent to the judgment given, yet could theynot dispute the justice of the decree. 

Here Miss Jenny ceased reading, and all the little company expressed bytheir looks, that they were overjoyed at the eagle's determination; forthey had all in their own minds forestalled the eagle's judgment, ofgiving the preference to the dove. 'Now, my good children, ' said Mrs. Teachum, 'if you will pass through this life with real pleasure, imitatethe dove; and remember, that innocence of mind, and integrity of heart, adorn the female character, and can alone produce your own happiness, and diffuse it to all around you. '

Our little company thanked their governess for her fable; and, justat that instant, they heard a chariot drive into the court, and Mrs. Teachum went out to see what visitor could be arrived so late in theevening; for it was near eight o'clock. 

They all remained in the room where their governess left them; for theyhad been taught never to run out to the door, or to the windows, to lookat any strangers that came, till they knew whether it was proper forthem to see them or not. 

Mrs. Teachum soon returned with a letter open in her hand, and remainedsome little time silent; but cast on every one round such a tenderand affectionate look, a tear almost starting from her eye, that thesympathising sorrow seemed to spread through the whole company, and theywere all silent, and ready to cry, though they knew not for what reason. 'I am sorry, my little dears, ' said Mrs. Teachum, 'to give your tenderbosoms the uneasiness I fear the contents of this letter will do, as itwill deprive you of that your hearts so justly hold most dear. ' And, sosaying, she delivered to Miss Jenny Peace, the following letter:--

'To Miss Jenny Peace. 

'Monday night, June 24. 

'My dear niece, --I arrived safe at my own house, with your cousinHarriet, last Saturday night, after a very tedious voyage by sea, anda fatiguing journey by land. I long to see my dear Jenny as soon aspossible, and Harriet is quite impatient for that pleasure. 

'I have ordered my chariot to be with you tomorrow night; and I desireyou would set out on Wednesday morning, as early as your inclinationshall prompt you to come to

'Your truly affectionate aunt, 'M. NEWMAN. 

'I have writ a letter of thanks to your kind governess, for her care ofyou. '

It is impossible to describe the various sensations of Miss Jenny'smind, on the reading this letter. Her rising joy at the thoughts ofseeing her kind aunt safely returned from a long and tedious voyage, was suppressed by a sorrow, which could not be resisted, on parting withsuch dear friends, and so good a governess; and the lustre which such ajoy would have given to her eye, was damped by rising tears. Her heartfor some time was too full for utterance. At last, turning to hergoverness, she said, 'And is the chariot really come, to carry me to mydear aunt?' Then, after a pause, the tears trickling down her cheeks, 'And must I so soon leave you, madam, and all my kind companions?' Mrs. Teachum, on seeing Miss Jenny's tender struggles of mind, and all hercompanions at once bursting into tears, stood up, and left the room, saying, 'She would come to them again after supper. ' For this prudentwoman well knew, that it was in vain to contend with the very firstemotions of grief on such an occasion, but intended, at her return, toshow them how much it was their duty and interest to conquer all sortsof extravagant sorrow. 

They remained some time silent, as quite struck dumb with concern, tillat last Miss Dolly Friendly, in broken accents, cried out, 'And must welose you, my dear Miss Jenny, now we are just settled in that love andesteem for you, which your goodness so well deserves?'

Miss Jenny endeavoured to dry up her tears, and then said, 'AlthoughI cannot but be pleased, my dear companions, at every mark of youraffection for me; yet I beg that you would not give me the pain to seethat I make so many dear friends unhappy. Let us submit cheerfully tothis separation (which, believe me, is as deeply felt by me as anyof you) because it is our duty so to do; and let me entreat you to becomforted, by reflecting, how much my good aunt's safe return mustbe conducive to my future welfare; nor can you be unhappy, while youcontinue with so good a governess, and persist in that readiness to obeyher, which you have lately shown. She will direct who shall preside overyour innocent amusements in my place. I will certainly write to you, andshall always take the greatest delight in hearing from each of you, bothwhile you continue here, and when your duty and different connectionsshall call you elsewhere. We may some, and perhaps all, of us, happenoften to meet again; and I hope a friendship, founded on so innocent andso good a foundation as ours is, will always subsist, as far as shall beconsistent with our future situations in life. '

Miss Jenny's friends could not answer her but by sobs and tears; onlylittle Polly Suckling, running to her, clung about her neck, and cried, 'Indeed, indeed, Miss Jenny, you must not go; I shall break my heart, ifI lose you: sure we shan't, nor we can't, be half so happy, when you aregone, though our governess was ten times better to us than she is. '

Miss Jenny again entreated them to dry up their tears, and to be morecontented with the present necessity; and begged, that they would notlet their governess see them so overwhelmed in sorrow on her return; forshe might take it unkindly, that they should be so afflicted at the lossof one person, while they still remained under her indulgent care andprotection. 

It was with the utmost difficulty, that Miss Jenny refrained fromshedding tear for tear with her kind companions; but as it was herconstant maxim to partake with her friends all her pleasure, and toconfine her sorrows as much as possible within her own bosom, she choserather to endeavour, by her own cheerfulness and innocent talk, to stealinsensibly from the bosoms of her little companions half their sorrow;and they begin to appear tolerably easy. 

After supper, Mrs. Teachum returned; and, seeing them all striving whoshould most conceal their grief, for fear of giving uneasiness to therest, yet with a deep dejection fixed in every countenance, and littlePolly still sobbing behind Miss Jenny's chair, she was so moved herselfwith the affecting scene, that the tears stole from her eyes; and thesympathising company once more eased their almost bursting hearts, byanother general flow of melting sorrow. 

'My dear children, ' said Mrs. Teachum, 'I am not at all surprised atyour being so much concerned to part with Miss Jenny. I love her myselfwith a motherly affection (as I do all of you, and shall ever continueto do so while you so well deserve it); and I could wish, for my ownsake, never to part with her as long as I live; but I consider, that itis for her advantage, and I would have you all remember, in her absence, to let her example and friendship fill your hearts with joy, instead ofgrief. It is now pretty late in the evening, and as Miss Jenny is to setout very early in the morning, I must insist upon shortening your pain(for such is your present situation), and desire you would take yourleave of this your engaging friend. '

They none of them attempted to speak another word, for their hearts werestill too full for utterance; and Miss Jenny took every one by the handas they went out of the room, saluted them with the tenderest affection, mingling tears with those which flowed from every streaming eye; and, wishing them all happiness and joy till their next meeting, they all, with heavy hearts, retired to rest. 

Miss Jenny returned the warmest and most grateful acknowledgments to hergood governess, for all her care of her; and said, 'I shall attributeevery happy hour, madam, that I may hereafter be blessed with, toyour wise and kind instruction, which I shall always remember with thehighest veneration, and shall ever consider you as having been to me noless than a fond and indulgent mother. '

Mrs. Teachum kept Miss Jenny in the room with her no longer than toassure her how sincerely she should regret her absence, and confessedhow much of the regularity and harmony of her school she owed to hergood example, for sweetness of temper, and conformity to rules. 

THE END OF THE NINTH DAY. 

THE CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF MRS. TEACHUM, &C. 

Although Miss Jenny Peace did not return any more to school; yet sheever gratefully remembered the kindness of her governess, and frequentlycorresponded with all her companions. And as they continued theirinnocent amusements and meetings in the arbour, whenever the weatherwould permit, there was no day thought to be better employed than thatin which they received a letter from their absent instructive friend, whose name was always mentioned with gratitude and honour. 

Mrs. Teachum continued the same watchful care over any young persons whowere entrusted to her management; and she never increased the numberof her scholars, though often entreated so to do. All quarrels andcontentions were banished her house; and if ever any such thing waslikely to arise, the story of Miss Jenny Peace's reconciling all herlittle companions was told to them; so that Miss Jenny, though absent, still seemed (by the bright example which she left behind her) to be thecement of union and harmony in this well-regulated society. And if anygirl was found to harbour in her breast a rising passion, which it wasdifficult to conquer, the name and story of Miss Jenny Peace soon gainedher attention, and left her without any other desire than to emulateMiss Jenny's virtues. 

In short, Mrs. Teachum's school was always mentioned throughout thecountry, as an example of peace and harmony; and also by the dailyimprovement of all her girls, it plainly appeared how early young peoplemight attain great knowledge, if their minds were free from foolishanxieties about trifles, and properly employed on their own improvement;for never did any young lady leave Mrs. Teachum, but that her parentsand friends were greatly delighted with her behaviour, as she had madeit her chief study to learn always to pay to her governors the mostexact obedience, and to exert towards her companions all the goodeffects of a mind filled with benevolence and love.