to a sedan-chair, in which she was conveyed, every Sunday, to a place of worship; and, as there happened, at that time, to be a truly apostolic minister in Reading, she found real benefit, and ever-new delight, in her weekly attendance on his ministry. Notwithstanding these infirmities, the pious old lady found means of being useful, in her own little sphere, among the young people with whom she resided. She provided herself with many books, adapted for the pious instruction of youth; and not a day passed in which one or other of the little inhabitants of the abbey was not introduced to take her tea with the old lady; where, after having been duly regaled with bunns, and other luxuries equally pleasing to the infant palate, the good old lady presented her visiter with a book, and took occasion to point out to her certain important truths of our blessed religion. Thus this excellent person continually busied herself in sowing the good seed, quietly waiting the pleasure of the Lord to prosper her humble labours.

Among the young people who particularly excited the attention of Mrs. Hay, were Eleanore and Antoinette; who were the children of a nominal Protestant and a real Papist.

When Mrs. Hay discovered that their mother was absent, and their father dead, and that they were actually without friends in the country, she invited them frequently to her apartment; and rendered these visits so agreeable to them, that they became exceedingly anxious for the renewal of their pleasure.

Madame Northington, after having been a few weeks in France, became more lax in her correspondence with the governess of her children, and often allowed months to pass without writing; she also became more tardy in her remittances, scarcely paying the expenses of her daughters' board, and leaving them very deficient with respect to clothes.

When Mrs. Hay understood this circumstance, she came very liberally forward to supply the wants of the little girls; and thus she obtained a more decided influence over them. Eleanore and Antoinette were arrived at that age when a deficiency of suitable apparel is perhaps more severely felt than at any other; and there

fore they were by no means insensible of the kindness of the friend who rescued them from the mortification of appearing more meanly dressed than their schoolfellows.

Thus Mrs. Hay obtained a considerable influence, as I before said, over these young people; and, as she was also revered by the heads of the household, (who thought it not improbable that they might be remembered in her will,) she was allowed to receive them in her room whenever she pleased, to give them what instructions she chose, and even to take them with her to the place of worship above mentioned.

It is impossible for a pious person, of any denomination, to refrain from inculcating his own principles on the minds of those with whom he continually associates; hence, Mrs. Hay anxiously laboured to instruct these young people in those pure and Christian doctrines which she herself believed. She at first began to feed them with the simple milk of the Gospel, such as is given to the babes in Christ; and when they seemed to have received and fully digested this, she proceeded to give them stronger meat.

Although the instructions given to these two young people, by the other parts of the family, were contrary to those imparted by Mrs. Hay, yet the truths imparted by Mrs. Hay were not wanting in their influence over their minds; especially, as they received considerable weight from the sense of obligation which they could not but feel towards the old lady. However, during the last year of their residence at school, this excellent old lady died; and, some months afterwards, Madame Northington returned to England, having obtained nothing by her journey to France but a small increase of income; her father having refused to see her before his death, and her other relations persisting in their refusal to acknowledge her.

When Madame arrived in England, she sent a friend to discharge her debts at the school, and to bring her daughters to her, at a little village in one of the southern counties of England; where she had taken a small house, and where she enjoyed the privilege of residing near a distant relation of her late husband-a lady of consider

able property, and well disposed to treat her with kind

ness.

This village was situated in a beautiful valley, commanding a distant view of the sea; and possessing, among other advantages, one which was more rarely found, a few years ago, than we trust it now is; viz. a pious and enlightened minister of religion, and a population at least well instructed in the doctrines of our holy faith. Mrs. Montague (the lady above mentioned as a relation of the late Mr. Northington) was, also, a benevolent and charitable woman, lively and agreeable in conversation, and engaging to young people, although strictly religious.

In this society, Eleanore presently discovered that what she had learned from Mrs. Hay rendered her company more acceptable than it would otherwise have been; and Antoinette, from frequently hearing the same things repeated which she had first heard from the old lady at the boarding-school, was, by the divine blessing, led to meditate more seriously on these subjects than she had ever before done. But, as I shall have occasion, by and by, to speak more particularly on the effects which this society produced upon the young people, I refrain from enlarging upon them in this place.

The person sent by Madame Northington for her daughters was an aged relation, whom she had met in her travels, and who had accompanied her to England; intending to remain with her some time in her retreat. He had all the politeness and all the affability of an old beau of the past age; could play at tric-trac, dance a minuet, and prepare a stew, with equal facility; and was equally animated when talking politics, or giving directions for making a French pie. He wore a silk nightcap at home, with a large surtout, and red morocco slippers; but, when seen abroad, generally appeared in an old military coat, and with a chapeau quarre.

This old gentleman (whom we shall call Monsieur Beaufleur) conducted the young ladies very safely, through London, to the quiet retreat in which their mother had taken up her residence, and warmly shared in the joy of the old lady when she ran out, through her little garden, to embrace her daughters, from whom she had been so long separated.

I have given you some idea of Madame's house in Reading, and of the style of its embellishments. The interior of her new abode was neither larger nor better arranged; but its external charms were such as to give delight to the most insensible beholder. It stood on the side of a narrow dingle, the hill rising above it to a considerable height; while, in front, it commanded a view down the dale even to the sea. The heights above the house were clothed almost to their summits by forest trees; the whole scene affording the most pleasing retreat for deep solitude and retirement, interrupted only in one instance, where the roofs of a few houses, belonging to a neighbouring village, appeared peeping from among the trees; the rest of the village being withdrawn from view by the winding of the valley.

In the immediate vicinity of Mrs. Northington's house was a garden, at that season of the year blooming with many rose trees; which, together with a jasmine that crept over the rustic porch in front of the cottage, shed a perfume far and wide through the valley.

After the first exclamations of joy had passed between the mother and daughters,-exclamations by no means so tempered on the part of Madame as those which would have proceeded from the lips of a lady of the same rank of our own country,-the young people were led into the house; where their mother regaled them with fruit and coffee, served by the same Irish, French, and English damsel before mentioned; who, having accompanied Madame through all her perambulations, was now again become her sole handmaid in her new dwelling.

It must be supposed that the arrival of two accomplished and exceedingly handsome young ladies in a small country place, and young ladies too, distantly related to the great lady of the village, should make some talk in the neighbourhood, and that many should be anxious to see them. Accordingly, the day after the arrival of Eleanore and Antoinette, most of the persons in the village and neighbourhood, who were in a condition to pay visits, called upon Madame; and Mrs. Montague, in character of a cousin of their father, invited the whole family to her house, and showed every kindness which could possibly be expected.

I have before said, that the inhabitants of this village were blessed with a pious minister; Mrs. Montague also was pious; and through her influence, there were many professors of religion in the place; on whose character we would not wish to decide, although certain inconsistencies in their conduct must lead one to suspect that some of them, at least, professed more than they really felt.

Mrs. Montague was a lady of high extraction. She had been handsome, and certainly enjoyed superior talents for conversation, with an extent of general knowledge not common in females. She had been left a widow, a few years before, in full possession of her husband's large estates; and hereby possessed an extensive influence in the neighbourhood.

This lady had formerly been a leader in fashion; and possessed the peculiar and rare talent of rendering mixed society agreeable and lively, without the use of worldly excitements. She had been brought to a knowledge of religion, some years since, through the means of a minister whom she had heard at Weymouth; and her zeal and animation were soon enlisted on the side of what is right; and wonderful was the change which she shortly effected within the circle of her influence. Every plan of moral improvement, or for bettering the state of the poor, which came to her knowledge, was immediately tried. Nothing was now heard of at Montague-house but Sunday-schools, schools of industry, spinning-feasts, reading-societies, and suitable works to be sold at a repository in a neighbouring town, for the benefit of the poor.

It was certainly most delightful to see talents, influence, and money, thus employed; and much good was speedily effected. One hindrance to Mrs. Montague's plans, however, at first existed. This was an old rector, who hated every thing new, whether good or bad, useful or destructive. But this obstacle was speedily removed by the death of the old gentleman; and as Mrs. Montague had the living in her gift, she failed not to appoint a person in his place whose ways and modes of thinking were agreeable to her own.

The gentleman on whom she was led to fix was a