little garden; not at all disconcerted by the appearance she might be supposed to make in the eyes of her visiters; or, if she thought at all, trusting to her elegant appearance in the afternoon, to obliterate the remembrance of her morning dishabille.

The household of Madame consisted of a single domestic whom she had brought with her from Ireland, an affectionate and devoted character, and not less an original than her mistress. This damsel, from the circumstance of her residence in England, from being a native of Ireland, and from having lived several years with a mistress, whose manners were altogether French, was as odd a compound of the three nations as could be conceived. She had some of the qualifications and some of the defects of each country. She could prepare a vol-auvent or a soufflet with considerable skill; she could perform the part of a fille-de-chambre with more adroitness than could have been expected by any one who observed her clumsiness; could join, with some credit to herself, in general conversation when serving the coffee to the guests; and could gossip and sip tea with any maid-servant of Reading. And, although a very delicate English lady might not have coveted her, she was a real comfort to her mistress.

Madame's house, though entirely English in construction, consisting of a small vestibule, a kitchen on one hand, and a parlour on the other, with a suitable number of bed-rooms above, was completely French with respect to its furniture and decorations, having no resemblance to the dapper neatness of an humble English dwelling. The floors were entirely without carpets, the furniture mismatched, the elegant shawls and embroidered dresses of Madame were to be seen hanging on pegs and nails against the parlour wall; while a superb Parisian time-piece on the chimney-piece was the only ornament which the place could boast.

Those who visited Madame in a morning might not unfrequently find her playing a tric-trac with one of her countrymen, whose loose surtout and morrocco slippers corresponded with her own elegant appearance; the Irish damsel coming in at intervals to receive directions 999255A

for the fricassee, which was to be prepared for the repast at noon.

In the evening this parlour was the common resort of all the idle foreigners who might happen to be in the neighbourhood; and here, in the sprightly conversation of Madame, they found an enjoyment with which the more correct and less animated society of the English ladies could never supply them.

As Madame Northington, from her public mode of life, had no leisure, and, from her desultory habits, little inclination, to carry on the education of her children, she found it very convenient to send her young people, at first, as day-boarders, and afterwards as entire boarders, to the abbey, only reserving to herself the privilege of enjoying their company on a Sunday afternoon; Sunday being a day which she considered should be devoted to pleasure. And herein we agree with her: Sunday ought to be a day of rest and pleasure, though perhaps we might differ from Madame in our definition of the word pleasure; for, to use a homely but expressive phrase on this occasion, "What is one man's meat is another man's poison;" and that person who has once enjoyed the delight of feeding on the bread of heaven, has no wish to return to feed on the husks of the world; and he who has obtained the privilege of wandering, in divine meditation, among the delightful regions of millennial and heavenly glory, where the Saviour so eminently blesses his redeemed ones, would be sorry to exchange these glorious privileges for those empty enjoyments which Madame termed pleasure.-But, to cease from these reflections, and to continue our story.

Eleanore and Antoinette lost little by their exchange of the seclusion of the school-room on a Sunday evening for the gaiety of their mother's house. For at that period religion obtained no part of the attention of the teachers within the walls of the seminary of the abbey at Reading. The young ladies were indeed taken to church, where, having spent an hour or more in smothered titters, low whispers, and peeping at their neighbours in the next pew, it was considered that their religious duties were fulfilled; and the rest of the day was spent in eating, walking, lounging, and gossipping in the

garden, parlour, dancing-room, or bed-room; and if any individual of the family, being more pious than the rest, ventured to produce a Bible, a general murmur of contempt or burst of ridicule proceeded from every lip.

This is indeed a sad, but I fear too true, a picture of the state of schools in general, about forty years ago. At the same time, perhaps, more attention than usual was paid in this school to some other branches of education.

A good French accent, a graceful carriage, and an accurate ear for music, were highly prized at the abbey ; and as Eleanore and Antoinette possessed all these in uncommon perfection, and were very good figures, combining in their persons the vivacity and brilliance of their mother's nation with the fine bloom of their father's, they were generally esteemed as the chief ornaments of the school, and set forward in the most prominent situations on every occasion of display. There was, however, a considerable disparity in the dispositions of these young people. Eleanore had much vanity, which induced her to accommodate herself as much as possible to the humours of those about her, and readily to adopt their modes and sentiments, to obtain a sort of popularity; while Antoinette was more reserved, and, at the same time that it was difficult to make an impression upon her, that impression, when made, was more lasting than any which could be made on her sister. These were the peculiarities of their dispositions; but, in common with all other persons in an unregenerate state, they were both equally influenced by selfish motives of action, and never lost sight of what they conceived to be their own interests. And in this place it may perhaps be a useful speculation to consider how far the unconverted man may have the appearance of what is good.

Man, in his unregenerate state, may be led to what is outwardly right, by some remains of natural affection, by prudence, by respect for the opinions of others, by example, by good education, by fear of punishment and hope of reward. But, say the Articles of our Church, as works done before the grace of Christ, and the inspiration of his Spirit, are not pleasant to God, forasmuch as they spring not of faith in Jesus Christ, neither do they make men meet to receive grace; yea, rather,

for that they are not done as God hath willed and commanded them to be done, we doubt not but they have the nature of sin." (See 13th Article.)

Neither is there any injustice in this; for, I ask you, what monarch on earth would feel himself under obligation to any one of his servants or subjects, who, instead of labouring to serve him and promote his glory, exerted himself, however wisely and prudently, in establishing his own honour, and in exalting his own household? Would not such a monarch say, "That man may have done well for himself, and he has received his reward, but he has no demands upon me." Now, as the relation between the Creator and the creature is infinitely more close than that between the servant and the master, that man, who, forgetting God, goes about to establish his own righteousness and promote his own honour, is infinitely more to be blamed than the servant who separates his interest from that of his rightful lord. But every unrenewed and carnal man is guilty of this sin. Wherefore we must agree with the words of the Article, and confess that such works as spring not from faith partake of the nature of sin. If we look well to our hearts, we shall find it to be so.-But to return to our story.

Eleanore, in common with many persons of her father's country, had a quick insight into character-a valuable quality, when rightly directed, but a dangerous gift in the possession of an irreligious person; because it frequently occasions the individual, not only to deceive others, but also to mislead himself. However, among the undiscerning persons by whom she was educated, this talent enabled the child to become a very popular character; and although now and then some instances of dissimulation were brought forward and exposed her to censure, yet she generally had the address to extricate herself from these difficulties, and to retain the general regard in which she was held. Antoinette had also some friends, but they were fewer than her sister's.

In the mean time, the years of the early childhood of the daughters of Madame passed away with little improvement in useful knowledge, without any advance

ment towards better things, and in the daily acquirement of the corruptions of the world and its vices; which may be obtained in every place of education where the closest attention is not paid to the private habits of each individual.

When Eleanore had attained her fourteenth and Antoinette her thirteenth year, Madame Northington, becoming weary of her situation, and having received information of her father not being likely to live long, resolved to leave her daughters at school, and go over to France; hoping to be able to bring about some reconciliation with her friends, and to obtain some little addition to her narrow income.

About the same time, an old lady, who had, fifty years before, received her education under the roof of the abbey, wished to finish her days where she had spent many years of her youth; and prevailed upon the managers of the school to allow her the use of a pleasant apartment, in a sufficiently quiet corner of the old building, to which there was access by a grand staircase, little resorted to by the younger part of the family.

This room had a window opening into the garden where the young people used to play; and here the old lady loved to sit, in a summer evening, pondering on the days that were gone, and thinking of the generation now nearly passed away, with whom she had often gambolled on the same spot.

This old lady (whom we shall now call Mrs. Hay) had, in her time, been a celebrated beauty. She had married happily, and had reared several lovely children almost to maturity; but she had experienced the loss of beauty, and was now a widow, and childless. Yet it had pleased the Lord, by bringing her to a knowledge of redeeming love, and of the blessings prepared, in a future world, for those who are united to the Saviour, to compensate her, yea, more than compensate her, for the worldly comforts which she had lost. And now no other care remained to her than to do what little_good was in her power, while waiting the summons to depart and be with Christ.

The infirmities of Mrs. Hay were such, that she never left her room, excepting when carried, by two servants,