field in the day of the reaping, than he was induced to expect.

At this time, as Clara and Margaret were able to undertake the walk, their mother sent them to Mrs. Hethcote's school,-Mrs. Charlton having advised her to take this step, as the children were evidently growing up without instruction. The widow pleaded, in her own behalf for this negligence, that as she could not afford to keep a girl, she had so many household duties to perform, it was impossible for her to teach her children; and this excuse was received as a good one by the rector's lady, who used to expatiate very largely on the severe trials of Mrs. Stephens, and on the hard labour which she had to endure, not considering that, setting pride out of the question, and the loss of a good husband, the widow was actually in as comfortable a situation as a woman who had never been used to any of the elegancies of life ought to desire. Health, peace, and a competence were or might have been in her possession. Her children were with her, and were lovely in their persons, and promising in their dispositions; and though she could not keep a maid, and had no parlour in which to receive her visiters, yet she now was scarcely required to do any thing which she did not do, or ought not to have done, not only in her single state, but also in her married one.

In appreciating the afflictions of our fellow-creatures, benevolent persons are too apt to forget the former modes of life, and present habits of the objects of their commiseration. And thus, when a fine lady fancies herself in the situation of a poor cottager, she is apt to overrate the inconveniences of the situation, and perhaps, while contemplating these imaginary troubles, to lose sight of those things in which she might render herself really useful to the subject of her care.

Certain, however, it was, that Mrs. Stephens, from whatever cause it might proceed, gave her children no education, and worse than that, that she was very partial, being much fonder of Margaret than of Clara, and that therefore for once, Mrs. Charlton gave her good advice, when she persuaded her to send her children to Mrs. Hethcote's school.

It was agreed that the little girls were to take their dinners with them, and remain with the old lady all the

day; and in order to encourage them to go more cheerfully, Mrs. Charlton supplied each with a small covered basket, a work-bag and needle-case, a spelling-book, a Bible, and a copy of Watts's Hymns.

It was a fine morning in the latter end of May, when these two little girls were to enter into a new scene of life, by becoming the pupils of good Mrs. Hethcote; for, as Mr. Charlton had long since discovered, there were few more humble, pious Christians in the parish, than this poor and hitherto neglected person.

What Mrs. Hethcote had been, no one knew; for she had been established in her present situation by a Lady Bromley, who was then no more. But it was supposed, from one or two circumstances about her, that she had moved at one time or other in a higher sphere of life. One of these circumstances was, that in her little parlour at the lodge (for she was so happy as to have a parlour, though she used it only in summer), there was a portrait of a military man, in a handsome uniform; and under this portrait were two swords crossed, with a belt and gorget. There were also on the mantelpiece certain old figures of fine Dresden china, and at one end of the room an Indian cabinet, the contents of which were not known. All these things seemed to speak of what the world call better days and as the manners of Mrs. Hethcote were as remarkable as these her few remaining possessions of other times, it was set down by all the village that she had been a person of some consequence-though who, or what, or from what place, no one could conjecture, notwithstanding Mrs. Bracebridge had asserted that she had once seen her in a coach and four, though where and when she could not tell.

But all these things being considered and put together, with the retirement in which the old lady lived, she was highly respected in the village, and many of what were called the better sort of people were glad to send their children to her, and had never any reason to regret having so done. But to return to our narrative: It was a lovely morning of May, when Clara and Margaret set out for the first time to school, bearing in mind their mother's directions, which were, that they were to go straight along the village, and under the church wall, then descend into the hollow, and cross the brook by the wooden bridge, and then go up the other side of

the bank, under the woods, till they came to the park gate, and then pass into the park by the little wicket, and go on to the lodge. Such were the directions which these little children received; after which they set off, and proceeded very successfully, till they had entered the park, where, though the lodge was right before them, at a small distance, so many new and interesting objects attracted their attention, that their progress was impeded at every step.

There were not only dry acorn-cups under the trees, but blue-bells and party-coloured vetches, and woodanemones on the banks; there were also swans on a lake, which was seen at a small distance through the openings of the boughs, and several deer also peeped at the little girls over the bushes, and ran off at their nearer approach.

However, as the little ones came strolling on, Mrs. Hethcote, who was seated at her favourite place, near the door of the kitchen, surrounded by nearly a score of her young pupils, observed them, and sent one of the elder girls to bring them into the house, where she appointed them their places, allowing them, according to her usual custom with all new pupils, to spend this, their first day, in looking about them; and in truth they had enough to do to satisfy their eyes with gazing on all the new and strange things which were displayed before them, not only within the little neat kitchen, but through the Gothic window opposite to which they sat, and from which they beheld the lake before-mentioned, encircled by woods, on the remote side of which was an imitation of an ancient temple on the bank, and close by it a cascade, which came tumbling down from the higher grounds the whole scene presented images of such quiet and elegant beauty, as these little creatures had never before seen, and knew not then how to appreciate.

Mrs. Hethcote always employed her mornings in the more dry and elaborate labours of teaching her little ones to spell and read correctly; at twelve, her small school broke up, and such of her pupils lived not very distant, went home to dinner; at two, the school met again, and at this time she was accustomed to set her little girls to work, and her boys to knit, while she employed one of the best readers to amuse the rest with such little portions of Scripture, and such amusing

books as she thought suited to their tastes; and sometimes, as a high indulgence, she would tell her little ones a story, or explain to them a portion of Scripture: a task which she always performed in a manner so interesting, that she never failed to impress their young minds in the most attractive manner, with the moral or doctrine she wished to enforce.

On the occasion of which we speak, all the children went home at dinner-time, except the two little daughters of the widow, and a little girl somewhat older than these, to whom Mrs. Hethcote gave her food and education, in return for such little manual offices as the poor old lady was unable to perform herself. As soon as the kitchen was empty, this little girl swept it up, arranged the forms and benches, and set out her mistress's dinner on a small round table, while Mrs. Hethcote walked into her neat garden with a book in her hand, and seemed not a little to enjoy this interval of quiet. When she was called to her dinner, she found Clara busy with hers, which she had brought in her basket; but Margaret was sitting pouting out her lip, and refusing to eat, though her sister pressed her. At first, Mrs. Hethcote took no notice of the child's ill-humour; but on her beginning to blubber aloud, she asked her what was the matter.

"I won't eat my dinner," said the child.

"Then pray let it alone," replied Mrs. Hethcote; "if you are not hungry, why should you eat?"-" But I am hungry," answered Margaret, "very hungry."

"Then eat your dinner," said the governess. "No, I won't," replied Margaret; “I shall take my dinner back again, and tell my mother that I can't eat at school."

"Do as you please about that," replied Mrs. Hethcote.

"Mother will fret when she sees I can't eat," said Margaret.

"But I shall not fret about it," replied Mrs. Hethcote; "so pray do not fast for the pleasure of making me uncomfortable." The child stared at her, but made no answer; and after a while, Mrs. Hethcote said, "I thought that you loved your mother, Margaret."

"And so I do," replied the child; " and I like home. and I don't like school."

"As to your loving your mother, I don't believe a word of it."

"But I do love my mother," answered Margaret.

"No," replied Mrs. Hethcote, "you do not. When one person loves another, he always tries to do every thing to make that beloved object happy, and not to make him fret. Little children who love their parents try to please them; and little children who love God try to please him: but those who are selfish and obstinate neither love God nor their parents."

Margaret looked down, and did not answer, neither did she touch her food; but Clara looked up, and said, "But Margaret does love our mother, ma'am, more than I do; and she loves God, too, much more than I do."

66 What," ," said Mrs. Hethcote, who could hardly help smiling at this remark, "don't you love your mother, my child?"

66

People say I do not," answered Clara; “and my mother says I love nobody."

"Is that true, Clara ?" said Mrs. Hethcote.

"I don't know," replied the little girl, and the tears came into her eyes: "but my mother says so; and she told Mrs. Charlton so, and Mrs. Bracebridge."

"Well," said Mrs. Hethcote, "I shall soon find out which of you loves your mother best, and which of you loves God best: for even a child is known by its doing and those who endeavour to do best are surely those who have most love."

By this time it was necessary to get ready for afternoon school; and Mrs. Hethcote directed Clara and Margaret to wash their hands, and go to their places.

When all the children had come back, and settled to their work, Mrs. Hethcote caused one of the elder pupils to read a chapter from the old book called the Village School, after which she took her Bible, and having many a time and often explained to many present the various leading doctrines of the Christian religion, viz., the existence of one great and mighty God, and of the three Persons in that one God, together with the various works which these three persons have assigned to themselves in the salvation of man; and having as often explained to them the natural depravity of the heart, and the change which must needs take place in man, before he is made a holy and happy crea