haughty, impetuous temper, impatient of all disappointment; and this disposition not being subdued in his youth, has led him into all sorts of excesses. His Lady not being much better tempered than his Lordship, and valuing herself highly upon her beauty and the large fortune she brought him, greatly resents his treatment of her. So that having hitherto lived in the most unhappy way, they have at last agreed to part by mutual consent; and the different journeys they have this morning taken, were, I suppose, the prelude to a final separation."

Having said thus much, Mrs. Teachum wished Miss Jenny a good night, who immediately retired to rest with her little companions.

FRIDAY,

The eighth Day.

MRS. TEACHUM in the morning enquired how her scholars were after their walk, and was pleased to hear that they were quite well. They then performed their several tasks with cheerfulness and after the evening school-hours, when they were hastening as usual to the arbour, Mrs. Teachum called Miss Jenny into her parlour, and said, "My dear child, if you have nothing particularly prepared for this day's amusement, I shall have a pleasure in confiding to you the account of a young lady, which I received many years ago, in a letter from a friend: not doubting but that you will, with the blessing of Almighty God, be profited by it, and find in it an additional motive to prepare early for that change which must pass upon all men, the appointed time of which is known only to the Almighty." So saying, Mrs. Teachum presented Miss Jenny with a small manuscript, containing a copy of her friend's letter; as she would on no account trust the valued original out of her own hands, which she carefully preserved, with other memorials of former days and past events, in a small Indian

cabinet, standing between the windows of her parlour.

Miss Jenny received the manuscript as a mark of great confidence, and having thanked her governess with a low courtesy and a smile, she hastened to the arbour, in which, by this time, all the party were assembled.

When Miss Jenny informed them on what account their governess had called her apart, and shewed them the little book which had been confided to her for their amusement and profit, they expressed great joy, and intreated her to begin the reading of it immediately; with which request she complied without delay.

A Letter from Mrs. Graham of the City of London, to her friend Mrs. Teachum, dated Anno Domini, 1730.

MY DEAR Friend,

You ask me for some account of my Emily, my lovely Emily. O my friend! you know not what pain you give me by such a request; and yet you say, that if I have but courage to recal to mind, and, in its due order, commit to paper what I first knew of my Emily, and the manner in which this sweet child daily waited upon the Lord for a renewal of strength, thereby being enabled to fulfil in an

exemplary manner all the duties of life, it might hereafter become a source of mournful pleasure to myself, and of profit to others; inasmuch as from the view, however imperfect, which I might be able to hold out of this fair model, others of the sinful children of Adam might learn to mount up with wings as eagles; to run and not be weary; to walk and not faint. (Isaiah xl. 31.) But Oh! when I feel the sad assurance that I am for ever on earth separated from this my darling, and that while she yet was spared to me I fulfilled my duty towards her so imperfectly; and when I remember how little I profited by the sweet teachings and gentle persuasions of this holy child; the anguish of my feelings becomes almost intolerable: and yet, I know that all this trouble is no more than needful to teach me the sinfulness of my nature, and the value of my soul. But to speak no more on what relates merely to myself, I proceed to fulfil the painful task which your friendship has appointed me.

My husband, as you well know, is a merchant, and has been exceedingly successful in all his transactions, insomuch that we for many years past have been in a very affluent condition. One circumstance, however, greatly imbittered the enjoyment of our riches; we had no child: the almighty Ruler of all things, by whom every thing is well done, refused us the gratification of our wishes in that respect. I will not say with what little patience I submitted at first to this

dispensation of Providence: but at the time I speak of, I had no sense of vital religion; I attended, it is true, to its outward forms, but my heart had never known the sweet influences of Christianity.

As

A little more than twelve years ago, my husband having had a severe illness, we were advised to spend our summer months in the country. expence was no object to us, we took a journey into the north of England, and there hired for the season an old-fashioned house, situated in a garden abounding with fruits and flowers of various kinds. Here, having no employment, and but few neighbours, and as Mr. Graham was unable to take much exercise, we spent a great part of our time in sitting on a garden-chair, which we found under the spreading branches of a walnut tree, situated on a round plot of grass in the centre of the garden. On this pleasant spot, while I employed myself with my needle, my husband read to me the Pastorals of Phillips, the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sydney, and the Spectators and Tatlers, with other fashionable works of the day: by which we found ourselves amused, our taste perhaps improved, and some kind of indistinct respect for religion and morality acquired. But still we remained in great darkness as to vital religion, and were deplorably ignorant of those important doctrines on which the great truths of the Gospel are built; namely, the utter depravity of the human heart, and our absolute need of a Saviour.