FRIDAY THE FIFTH DAY.

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

Miss Jenny then went directly into her governess's parlour, and told her that 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 a pompous style, nor so full of wonderful images, as the giant-story; yet she would not venture to read anything of that kind without her permission; but, as she had not absolutely condemned all that sort of writing, she hoped she was not guilty of a fault in asking that permission. Mrs. Teachum, with a gracious smile, told her, that she seemed so thoroughly well to understand the whole force of her Monday night's discourse to her, that she might be trusted almost in anything; and desired her to go and follow her own judgment and inclinations in the amusement of her happy friends. Miss Jenny, overjoyed with this kind condescension in her governess, thanked her, with, a low courtesy, and said, she hoped she should never do anything unworthy of the confidence reposed on her; and, hastening to the arbour, she there found all her little companions quite impatient of this short absence.

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

It was the custom now so much amongst them to assent to any proposal that came from Miss Jenny, that they all with one voice desired her to read it; till Miss Polly Suckling said, 'that although she was very unwilling to contradict anything Miss Jenny liked, yet she could not help saying, she thought it would be better if they were to read some true history, from which they might learn something; for she thought fairy-tales

were fit only for little children.

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

'There came into our village, when I was six years old, a man who carried about a raree-show, which all the children of the parish were fond of seeing; but I had taken it into my head, that it was beneath my wisdom to see raree-shows; and therefore would not be persuaded to join my companions to see this sight; and although I had as great an inclination as any of them to see it, yet I avoided it, in order to boast 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 had given me leave? I drew up my head, and said, "Indeed I did not like raree-shows. That I had been reading; and I thought that much more worth my while, than to lose my time at such foolish entertainments." My mamma, who saw the cause of my refusing this amusement was only a pretence of being wise, laughed, and said, "She herself had seen it, and it was really very comical and diverting." On hearing this, I was heartily vexed to think I had denied myself a pleasure, which I fancied was beneath me, when I found even my mamma was not above seeing it. This in a great measure cured me of the folly of thinking myself above any innocent amusement. And when I grew older, and more capable of hearing reason, my mamma told me, "She had taken this method of laughing at me, as laughing is the proper manner of treating affectation; which of all things, she said, she would have me carefully avoid; otherwise, whenever I was found out, I should become contemptible."'

Here Miss Jenny ceased speaking; and Miss Polly Suckling, blushing that she had made any objection to what Miss Jenny had proposed, begged her to begin the fairy tale; when just at that instant, Mrs. Teachum, who had been taking a walk in the garden, turned into the arbour to delight herself with a view of her little school united in harmony and love, and Miss Jenny, with great good humour, told her mistress the small contest she had just had with Miss Polly about reading a fairy tale, and the

occasion of it. Mrs. Teachum kindly chucking the little dumpling under the chin, said, she had so good an opinion of Miss Jenny, as to answer for her, that she would read nothing to them but what was proper; and added, that she herself would stay and hear this fairy tale which Miss Jenny, 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, the daughter of a king of a neighbouring country, whose name was Rousignon. Her beauty and prudence engaged him so far in affection to her, that every hour he could possibly spare from attending the affairs of his kingdom he spent in her apartment. They had a little daughter, to whom they 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 in his family, and all his days rolled on in calm content and joy. The king's brother Abdulham was also married to a young princess, named Tropo, who in seven years had brought him no children; and she conceived so mortal a hatred against the queen (for she envied her the happiness of the little Princess Hebe) that she resolved to do her some mischief. It was impossible for her, during the king's lifetime, to vent her malice without being discovered, and therefore she pretended the greatest respect and friendship imaginable for the unsuspecting queen.

Whilst things were in this situation, the king fell into a violent fever, of which he died; and during the time that the queen was in the height of her affliction for him, and could think of nothing but his loss, the Princess Tropo took the opportunity of putting in execution her malicious intentions. She inflamed her husband's passions, by setting forth the meanness of his spirit, in letting a crown be ravished from his head by a female infant, till ambition seized his mind, and he resolved to wield the Tongian sceptre himself. It was very easy to bring this about, for, by his brother's appointment, he was protector of the realm, and guardian to the

young princess his niece; and the queen taking him and the princess his wife for her best friends, suspected nothing of their designs, but in a manner gave herself up to their power.

The protector Abdulham, having the whole treasure of the kingdom at his command, was in possession of the means to make all his schemes successful; and the Princess Tropo, by lavishly rewarding the instruments of her treachery, contrived to make it generally believed, that the queen had poisoned her husband, who was so much beloved by his subjects, that the very horror of the action, without any proof of her guilt, raised against the poor unhappy Queen a universal clamour, and a general aversion throughout the whole kingdom. The princess had so well laid her scheme, that the guards were to seize the queen, and convey her to a place of confinement, till she could prove her innocence; which, that she might never be able to do, proper care was taken by procuring sufficient evidence to accuse her on oath; and the Princess Hebe, her daughter, was to be taken from her, and educated under the care of her uncle. But the night before this cruel design was to have been put in execution, a faithful attendant of the queen's, named Loretta, by the assistance of one of the Princess Tropo's confidants (who had long professed himself her lover) discovered the whole secret, of which she immediately informed her royal mistress.

The horrors which filled the queen's mind at the relation of the Princess Tropo's malicious intentions, were inexpressible, and her perturbation so great, that she could not form any scheme that appeared probable to execute for her own preservation. Loretta told her that the person who had given her this timely notice, had also provided a peasant who knew the country, and would meet her at the western gate of the city, and, carrying the young Princess Hebe in his arms, would conduct her 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 for ever. Horses or mules, she said, it would be impossible to come at without suspicion; therefore she must endeavour (though unused to such fatigue) to travel afoot till she got herself concealed in some cottage from her pursuers, if her enemies should think of endeavouring to find her out. Loretta

offered to attend her mistress, but she absolutely forbad her going any farther than to the western gate; where delivering the little Princess Hebe into the arms of the peasant, who was there waiting for them, she reluctantly withdrew.

The good queen, who saw no remedy to this her terrible disgrace, could have borne this barbarous usage without much repining, had she herself been the only sufferer by it; for the loss of the good king her husband so far exceeded all her other misfortunes, that every everything else was trifling in comparison of so dreadful an affliction. But the young Princess Hebe, whom she was accustomed to look on as her greatest blessing, now became to her an object of pity and concern; for, from being 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 fly for protection.

Loretta had prevailed on her royal mistress to take with her a few little necessaries, besides a small picture of the king, and some of her jewels, which the queen contrived to conceal under her night-clothes, in the midst of that hair they were used to adorn, when her loved husband delighted to see it displayed in flowing ringlets round her snowy neck. This lady, during the life of her fond husband, was by his tender care kept from every inclemency of the air, and preserved from every inconvenience that it was possible for human nature to suffer. What then must be her condition now, when through bypaths and thorny ways, she was obliged to fly with all possible speed, to escape the fury of her cruel pursuers: 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 life was the principal cause of their disquiet, and whose destruction they chiefly aimed at.

The honest peasant, who carried the Princess Hebe in his arms, followed the queen's painful steps; and seeing the day begin to break, he begged her, if possible, to hasten on to a wood which was not far off, where it was 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 with rising joy) burst into a flood of tears, and, quite overcome with grief

and fatigue, cast herself on the ground, crying out in the most affecting manner, 'The end of my misfortunes is at hand. My weary limbs will no longer support me. My spirits fail me. In the grave alone must I seek for shelter.' The poor princess, seeing her mother in tears, cast her little arms about her neck, and wept also, though she knew not why.

Whilst she was in this deplorable condition, turning round her head, she saw behind her a little girl, no older in appearance than the Princess Hebe; who, with an amiable and tranquil countenance, begged her to rise and follow her, and she would lead her where she might refresh and repose 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 to protect her, and was very ready to submit herself to her guidance and protection.

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

Sybella then striking the ground three times with a little wand, there suddenly rose up before them a neat plain car, and a pair of milk-white horses; and placing the queen with the Princess Hebe in her lap by her side, she drove with excessive swiftness full westward for eight hours; when (just as the sun began to have power enough to make the queen almost faint with the heat and her former fatigue) they arrived at the side of a shady wood; upon entering of which, the fairy made her horses slacken 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 of firs, into which there seemed to be no entrance. For there was not any opening to a path, and the underwood consisting chiefly of rose-bushes, white-thorn, eglantine, and other flowering shrubs, was so thick, that it appeared impossible to attempt forcing through them. But alighting out of the car (which immediately disappeared) the fairy (bidding the queen 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 into an opening (quite surrounded by these firs and sweet underwood) not very large, but in which was contained everything that is necessary towards making life comfortable. At the end of a green meadow was a plain neat house, built more for convenience than beauty, fronting the rising sun; and behind it was a small garden, stored only with fruits and useful herbs. Sybella conducted her guests into this her simple lodging; and as 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; the ease and safety from her pursuers, in which she then found herself, made her for a short time tolerably composed; and she begged the favour of knowing to whom she was so greatly obliged for this her happy deliverance; but the fairy seeing her mind too unsettled to give any due attention to what she should say, told her that she would defer the relation of her own life (which was worth her observation) till she had obtained a respite from her own sorrows; and in the meantime, by all manner of obliging ways, she endeavoured to divert and amuse her.

The queen, after a short interval of calmness of mind, occasioned only by her so sudden escape from the terrors of pursuit, returned to her former dejection, and for some time incessantly wept at the dismal thought, that the princess seemed now, by this reverse of fate, to be for 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 afflicted herself the more, because the little princess was ignorant of her misfortune; and whenever she saw her diverting herself with little childish plays, instead of being pleased with such her innocent amusement, it added to her sorrow, and made her tears gush forth in a larger stream than usual. She could not divert her thoughts from the palace 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 the princess to be happy without a crown.

At length time, the great cure of all ills, in some measure abated her Sorrows; her grief began to subside; in spite of herself, the reflection that

her misery was only in her own fancy, would sometimes force itself on her mind. She could not avoid seeing, that her little hostess enjoyed as 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 or agreeable. 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 her amiable hostess. Her countenance now grew more cheerful; she could take the Princess Hebe in her arms, and thinking the jewels she had preserved would secure her from any fear of want, look on her with delight; and began even to imagine, that her future life might be spent in calm content 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 would relate the history of her life. The queen, overjoyed that her curiosity might now be gratified, begged her not to delay giving her that pleasure one moment; on which our little fairy began in the following manner.

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

THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED.

'My father,' said the fairy, 'was a magician: he married a lady for love, whose beauty far outshone that of all her neighbours; and by means of that beauty, she had so great an influence over her husband, that she could command the utmost power of his art. But better had it been for her, had that beauty been wanting; for her power only served to make her wish for more, and the gratification of every desire begot a new one, which often it was impossible for her to gratify. My father, though he saw his error in thus indulging her, could not attain steadiness of mind enough to mend it, nor acquire resolution enough to suffer his beloved wife once to grieve or

shed a tear to no purpose, though in order to cure her of that folly which made her miserable.

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

'When my father and mother had been married about a year, she was brought to bed of a daughter, to whom she gave the name of Brunetta. Her first request to my father was, that he would endow this infant with as much beauty as she herself was possessed of, and bestow on her as much of his art as should enable her to succeed in all her designs. My father foresaw the dreadful tendency of granting this request, but said he would give it with this restriction, that she should succeed in all her designs that were not wicked; for, said he, the success of wicked designs always turns out as a punishment to the person so succeeding. In this resolution he held for three days, till my mother (being weak in body after her lying-in) worked herself with her violent passions to such a degree, that the physicians told my father, they despaired of her life, unless some method could be found to make her mind more calm and easy. His fondness for his wife would not suffer him to bear the thoughts of losing her, and the horror with which that apprehension had but for a moment possessed his mind, prevailed with him to bestow on the little Brunetta (though foreseeing it would make her miserable) the fatal gift in its full extent. But one restriction it was out of his power to take off, namely, that all wicked designs ever could and should be rendered ineffectual by the virtue and perseverance of those against whom 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

my mother was so taken up with her darling Brunetta, that she gave herself nut the least concern about me; and I was left wholly to the care of my father. In order to make the gift she had extorted from her fond husband as fatal as possible to her favourite child, she took care in her education (by endeavouring to cultivate in her the spirit of revenge and malice against those who had in the least degree offended her) to turn her mind to all manner of mischief; by which means she lived in a continual passion.

'My father, as soon as I was old enough to hearken to reason, told me of 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 must in some measure succeed; but she would endow me with a power superior to this gift of my sister's, and likewise superior to any thing else that he was able to bestow, which was strength and constancy of mind enough to bear patiently any injuries I might receive; and this was a strength, he said, which would not decay, but rather increase, by every new exercise of it; and, to secure me in the possession of this gift, he likewise gave me a perfect knowledge of the true value of everything around me, by which means I might learn, whatever outward accidents befell me, not to lose the greatest blessing in this world, namely, a calm and contented mind. He taught me so well my duty, that I cheerfully obeyed 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 lies to make her angry with me. But my heart overflowed with gratitude to my father, that he would give me leave to love him, whilst he instructed me that it was my duty to pay him the most strict obedience.

'Brunetta was daily encouraged by her mother to use me ill, and chiefly because my father loved me; and although she succeeded in all her designs of revenge on me, yet was she very uneasy, because she could not take away the cheerfulness of my mind; for I bore with patience whatever happened to me: and she would often say, "must I with all my beauty, power, and wisdom (for so she called her low cunning) be suffering perpetual uneasiness? and shall you, who have neither beauty, power, nor wisdom, 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

my mother beat me, or lock me up, or take from me some of my best clothes to give to her; yet still could not her power extend to vex my mind: and this 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 been in one of her rages with me for nothing, my father came in and chid her for it; which, when my mother heard, she threw herself into such a violent passion, that her husband could not pacify her. And, being big with child, the convulsions, caused by her passions, brought her to her grave. Thus my father lost her, by the same uncontrollable excesses, the fatal effects of which he had before ruined his daughter to preserve her from. He did not long survive her; but, before he died, gave me a little wand, which, by striking three times on the ground, he said, would at any time produce me any necessary or convenience of life, which I really wanted, either for myself, or the assistance of others; and this he gave me, 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 the pleasant wood Ardella; there strike with your wand, and everything you want, will be provided for you. But keep this wand a profound secret, or Brunetta will get it from you; and then (though you can never, while you preserve your patience, be unhappy) you will not have it in your power to be of so much use as you would wish to be, to those who shall stand in need of your assistance." Saying these words, he expired, as I kneeled by his bedside, attending his last commands, and bewailing the loss of so good a father.

'In the midst of this our distress, we sent to my Uncle Sochus, my father's brother, to come to us, and to assist us in an equal division of my deceased father's effects; but my sister soon contrived to make him believe, that I was the wickedest girl alive, and had always set my father against her by my art, which she said I pretended to call my wisdom; and by several handsome presents she soon persuaded him (for he did 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, she should be very glad of my company.

'As it was natural for me to love every one that would give me leave to love them, I was quite overjoyed at this kind offer of my sister's, and never 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 was so much uppermost with her, that she could not execute any plot, that required a dissimulation of any long continuance; for had her good humour lasted but one four-and-twenty hours, it is very probable that I should have opened my whole heart to her; should have endeavoured to have begun a friendship with her, and perhaps have betrayed the secret of my wand; but just as it was sunset, she came into the room where I was, in the most violent passion in the world, accusing me to my uncle of ingratitude to her great generosity, in suffering me to live in her castle. She said, "that she had found me out, and that my crimes were of the 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, either to ask what my offence was, or to justify my innocence; and I plainly perceived, that her pretended kindness was only designed to make my disappointment the greater; and that she was now determined to find me guilty, whether I pleaded, or not. And after she had raved on for some time, she said to me with a sneer, "Since you have always boasted of your calm and contented mind, you may now try to be contented this night with the softness of the grass for your bed; for here in my castle you shall not stay one moment longer." And so saying, she and my uncle led me 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 keep out a giant; and left me, at that time of night, friendless, and, as they thought, destitute of any kind of support.

'I then remembered my dear father's last words, and made what haste I could 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 times with my wand, and immediately up rose this grove of trees, which you see, this house, and all the other conveniences, which I now enjoy; and getting that very night into this my plain and easy bed, I enjoyed as sweet a repose as

ever I did in my life, only delayed, indeed, a short time, by a few sighs, for the loss of so good a parent, and the unhappy state of a self-tormented sister, whose slumbers (I fear) on a bed of down, were more restless and interrupted that night than mine would have been, even had not my father's present of the wand prevented me from the necessity of using the bed of grass, which she, in her wrath, allotted me. In this grove, which I call Placid Grove, is contained all that I want; and it is so well secured from any invaders, by the thick briars and thorns which surround it, having no entrance but through that tender jessamine, that I live in no apprehensions of any disturbance, though so near 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; and waking, I found myself almost suffocated with smoke, and the flames had reached one part of my House. I started from my bed, and striking on the ground three times with my wand, there came such a quantity of water from the heavens, as soon extinguished the fire; and the next morning, by again having recourse to my wand, all things grew up into their convenient and proper order. When my sister Brunetta found that I had such a supernatural power at my command, though she knew not what it was, 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 daily lessons to me was, that I should never omit any one day of my life endeavouring to be as serviceable as I possibly could to any person in distress. And I daily wander, as far as my feet will carry me, in search of any such, and hither I invite them to peace and calm contentment. But my father added also this command, that I should never endeavour doing any farther good to those whom adversity had not taught to hearken to the voice of reason, enough to enable them so to conquer their passions as not to think themselves miserable in a safe retreat from noise and confusion. This was the reason I could not gratify you in relating the history of my life, whilst you gave way to raging passions, which only serve to blind your eyes, and shut your ears from truth. But now, great queen (for I know your state, from what you vented in your grief), I am ready to endow this little princess with any gift in my power, that I know will tend really

to her good; and I hope your experience of the world has made you too reasonable to require any other.'

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

Sybella was overjoyed at the queen's request, and immediately granted it, only telling the Princess Hebe, that it was absolutely necessary towards the attainment of this great blessing, that she should entirely obey the queen her mother, without ever pretending to examine her commands; for 'true obedience (said she) consists in submission; and when 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 our governors--this, my dear Hebe, you must be very careful of avoiding, if you would be happy.' She then cautioned her against giving way to the persuasions of any of the young shepherdesses thereabouts, who would endeavour to allure her to disobedience, by striving to raise in her mind a desire of thinking herself wise, whilst they were tearing from her 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 in appearance amiable, and likely to persuade, in order to allure away and make wretched, those persons I would preserve: and all the wisdom with which I have endowed the Princess Hebe will not prevent her falling into my sister's snares, if she gives the least way to temptation; for my father'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 of the person she is practising against. Many poor wretches has my sister already decoyed away from me, whom she now keeps in her castle; where they live in splendor and seeming joy, but in real misery, from perpetual jars and tumults, railed by envy, malice, and all the train of tumultuous and tormenting passions.'

The Princess Hebe said, she doubted not but she should be able to withstand any of Brunetta's temptations. Her mother interrupting her,

cried out, 'Oh, my dear child, though you are endowed with wisdom enough to direct you in the way to virtue, yet if you grow conceited and proud of that wisdom, and fancy yourself above temptation, it will lead you into the worst of all evils.' Here the fairy interposed, and told the Princess Hebe, that if she would always carefully observe and obey her mother, who had learned wisdom in that best school, adversity, she would then, indeed, be able to withstand and overcome every temptation, and would likewise be happy herself, and able to dispense happiness to all around her. Nothing was omitted by the fairy to make this retirement agreeable to her royal guests; and they had now passed near seven years in this delightful grove, in perfect peace and tranquillity; when one evening, as they were walking in the pleasant wood which surrounded their habitation, they espied under the shade, and leaning against the bark of a large oak, a poor old man, whose limbs were withered and decayed, and whose eyes were hollow, and sunk with age and misery. They stopped as soon as they saw him, and heard him in the anguish of his heart, with a loud groan, utter these words: 'When will my sorrows end? Where shall I find the good fairy Sybella?' The fairy immediately begged to know his business with her; and said, if his sorrows would end on finding Sybella, he might set his heart at ease; for she stood now before him, and ready to serve him, if his distresses were such as would admit of relief, and he could prove himself worthy of her friendship. The old Man appeared greatly overjoyed at having found the fairy, and began the following story:

'I live from hence a thousand leagues. All this tiresome way have I come in search of you. My whole life has been spent in amassing wealth, to enrich one only son, whom I doted on to distraction. It is now five years 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 wealth enables him to command whatever this world produces; and yet the poorest wretch that begs his bread cannot be more miserable. He spends his days in riot and luxury; has more slaves and attendants than wait in the palace of a prince; and still he sighs from morning till night, because, he says, there is nothing in this world worth living for. All his dainties only sate his

palate, and grow irksome to his sight. He daily changes his opinion of what is pleasure; and, on the trial, finds none that he can call such; and then falls to sighing again, for the emptiness of all that he has enjoyed. So that, instead of being my delight, and the comfort of my old age, sleepless nights, and anxious days, are all the rewards of my past labours for him. But I have had many visions and dreams to admonish me, that if I would venture with my old frame to travel hither a-foot in search of the fairy Sybella, she had a glass, which if she showed him, he would be cured of this dreadful melancholy, and I have borne the labour and fatigue of coming this long tiresome way, that I may not breathe my last with the agonizing reflection, 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, or praise allure you?'

'No, (answered the fairy) neither of them has power to move me; but I compassionate your age; and if I thought I could succeed, would not refuse you. The glass which I shall bid him look in, will show him his inward self; but if he will not open both his eyes and heart enough to truth, to let him understand, that the pleasures he pursues not only are not 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 natural result of your not having taught him this from his infancy; for, instead of heaping up wealth, to allure him to seek for happiness from such deceitful means, you should have taught him, that the only path to it was to be virtuous and good.'

The old man said, he heartily repented of his conduct, and on his knees so fervently implored Sybella's assistance, that at last she consented to 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 taking leave of the queen, and begging the Princess Hebe to be careful to guard against all temptations to disobedience, she set out on her journey.

It being now come to the latest hour that Mrs. Teachum thought proper for her little scholars to stay out in the air, she told Miss Jenny that she must defer reading the remaining part of her story till the next day. Miss Jenny always with great cheerfulness obeyed her governess, and

immediately left off reading; and said she was ready to attend her; and the whole company rose up to follow her.

Mrs. Teachum had so much judgment, that, perceiving such a ready obedience to all her commands, she now endeavoured, by all means she could 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 present whilst they were following their innocent diversions; for such was the understanding of this good woman, that she could keep up the authority of the governess in her school, yet at times become the companion of her scholars. And as she now saw, by their good behaviour, they deserved that indulgence, she took the little dumpling by the hand, and, followed by the rest, walked towards the house, and discoursed familiarly with them the rest of the evening, concerning all their past amusements.