Well, Madam,' answered Mrs. Bennet, 'I will con'sider your impatience.' She then rallied all her spirits in the best manner she could, and began as is written in the next chapter. And here possibly the reader will blame Mrs. Bennet for taking her story so far back, and relating so much of her life in which Amelia had no concern; but, in truth, she was desirous of inculcating a good opinion of herself, from recounting those transactions where her conduct was unexceptionable, before she came to the more dangerous and suspicious part of her character. This I really suppose to have been her intention; for to sacrifice the time and patience of Amelia at such a season to the mere love of talking of herself, would have been as unpardonable in her, as the bearing it was in Amelia a proof of the most perfect good breeding. CHAPTER II. The beginning of Mrs. Bennet's history. 'I was the younger of two daughters of a clergyman in 'Essex; of one in whose praise, if I should indulge my 'fond heart in speaking, I think my invention could not outgo the reality. He was indeed well worthy of the 'cloth he wore; and that, I think, is the highest character a man can obtain. 'During the first part of my life, even till I reached my sixteenth year, I can recollect nothing to relate to you. All was one long serene day, in looking back upon which, as when we cast our eyes on a calm sea, 'no object arises to my view. All appears one scene of happiness and tranquillity. On the day, then, when I became sixteen years old, 'must I begin my history; for on that day I first tasted 'the bitterness of sorrow. เ เ เ เ My father, besides those prescribed by our religion, kept five festivals every year. These were on his wedding-day, and on the birth-day of each of his little family; on these occasions he used to invite two or 'three neighbours to his house, and to indulge himself, เ as he said, in great excess; for so he called drinking a pint of very small punch; and, indeed, it might appear 'excess to one who on other days rarely tasted any liquor เ stronger than small beer. Upon my unfortunate birth-day, then, when we were 'all in a high degree of mirth, my mother having left 'the room after dinner, and staying away pretty long, my father sent me to see for her. I went according to 'his orders; but, though I searched the whole house, and 'called after her without doors, I could neither see nor 'hear her. I was a little alarmed at this (though far 'from suspecting any great mischief had befallen her), ' and ran back to acquaint my father, who answered coolly (for he was a man of the calmest temper), "Very "well, my dear, I suppose she is not gone far, and will "be here immediately." Half an hour or more passed 'after this, when, she not returning, my father himself 'expressed some surprise at her stay; declaring, it must 'be some matter of importance which could detain her เ at that time from her company. His surprise now 'increased every minute; and he began to grow uneasy, and to shew sufficient symptoms in his countenance of 'what he felt within. He then dispatched the servant'maid to inquire after her mistress in the parish; but 'waited not her return; for she was scarce gone out of 'doors before he begged leave of his guests to go himself on the same errand. The company now all broke up, ' and attended my father, all endeavouring to give him hopes that no mischief had happened. They searched 'the whole parish, but in vain; they could neither see my mother, nor hear any news of her. My father re'turned home in a state little short of distraction. His 'friends in vain attempted to administer either advice or 'comfort; he threw himself on the floor in the most 'bitter agonies of despair. Whilst he lay in this condition, my sister and myself lying by him, all equally, I believe, and completely 'miserable, our old servant-maid came into the room, ' and cried out, her mind misgave her that she knew where her mistress was. Upon these words, my father sprung from the floor, and asked her eagerly, where? -But oh! Mrs. Booth, how can I describe the par'ticulars of a scene to you, the remembrance of which 'chills my blood with horror, and which the agonies ' of my mind, when it passed, made all a scene of confusion! the fact then in short was this: my mother, 'who was a most indulgent mistress to one servant, 'which was all we kept, was unwilling, I suppose, to 'disturb her at her dinner; and therefore went herself to fill her tea-kettle at a well, into which, stretching 'herself too far, as we imagine, the water then being very low, she fell with the tea-kettle in her hand. • The missing this gave the poor old wretch the first 'hint of her suspicion, which, upon examination, was 'found to be too well grounded. 'What we all suffered on this occasion may more easily be felt than described.'—'It may indeed,' answered Amelia, and I am so sensible of it, that, unless you have a mind to see me faint before your 'face, I beg you will order me something; a glass of 6 water, if you please.' Mrs. Bennet immediately complied with her friend's request; a glass of water was brought, and some hartshorn drops infused into it; which Amelia having drank off, declared she found herself much better; and then Mrs. Bennet proceeded thus: เ เ 'I will not dwell on a scene which I see hath already 'so much affected your tender heart, and which is as เ disagreeable to me to relate, as it can be to you to 'hear. I will therefore only mention to you the be'haviour of my father on this occasion, which was ' indeed becoming a philosopher and a Christian divine. 'On the day after my mother's funeral, he sent for my 'sister and myself into his room; where, after many caresses, and every demonstration of fatherly tenderness, as well in silence as in words, he began to exhort us to bear with patience the great calamity that had 'befallen us; saying, that "as every human accident, ""how terrible soever, must happen to us by divine. ""permission at least, a due sense of our duty to our great Creator must teach us an absolute submission "to his will. Not only religion, but common sense ""must teach us this; for oh! my dear children," cries he, "how vain is all resistance, all repining! could "tears wash back again my angel from the grave, I "should drain all the juices of my body through my eyes; but oh, could we fill up that cursed well with เ "our tears, how fruitless would be all our sorrow!" 'I think I repeat you his very words; for the impression they made on me is never to be obliterated. 6.66 เ 6.66 เ เ He then proceeded to comfort us with the cheerful 'thought that the loss was entirely our own, and that my mother was greatly a gainer by the accident which we lamented. "I have a wife," cries he, "my children, and you have a mother now amongst the heavenly "choir; how selfish therefore is all our grief! how "cruel to her are all our wishes!"-In this manner 'he talked to us near half an hour, near half an hour, though I must frankly own to you his arguments had not the imme'diate good effect on us which they deserved; for 'we retired from him very little the better for his 'exhortations; however, they became every day more and more forcible upon our recollection; indeed, they were greatly strengthened by his example; for in this, as in all other instances, he practised the doctrines ' which he taught. From this day he never mentioned my mother more, and soon after recovered his usual 'cheerfulness in public; though I have reason to think 'he paid many a bitter sigh in private to that remembrance which neither philosophy nor Christianity could expunge. 'My father's advice, enforced by his example, together 'with the kindness of some of our friends, assisted by that ablest of all the mental physicians, Time, in a few months pretty well restored my tranquillity, when 6 fortune made a second attack on my quiet. My sister, 'whom I dearly loved, and who as warmly returned my affection, had fallen into an ill state of health some time before the fatal accident which I have re'lated. She was indeed at that time so much better, that we had great hopes of her perfect recovery; but 'the disorders of her mind on that dreadful occasion so 'affected her body, that she presently relapsed to her 'former declining state, and thence grew continually 'worse and worse, till, after a decay of near seven 'months, she followed my poor mother to the grave. 'I will not tire you, dear Madam, with repetitions of grief; I will only mention two observations which have ' occurred to me from reflections on the two losses I 'have mentioned. The first is, that a mind on 'violently hurt, grows, as it were, callous to any future impressions of grief; and is never capable of feeling 'the same pangs a second time. The other observation |