Christmas diversions. A stranger who had seen me pursuing Mrs. Stanley in her walks, might have supposed that not the daughter but the mother, was the object of my attachment. But with Mrs. Stanley I could always talk of Lucilla, with Lucilla I durst not often talk of herself.

The fond mother and I stood looking with delight on the fair gardeners. When I had admired their alacrity in these innocent pursuits, their fondness for retirement, and their cheerful delight in its pleasures; Mrs. Stanley replied, yes Lucilla is half a nun. She likes the rule, but not the vow. Poor thing! her conscience is so tender, that she oftener requires encouragement than restraint. While she was making this plantation, she felt herself so absorbed by it, that she came to me one day, and said that her gardening work so fascinated her, that she found whole hours passed unperceived,. and she began to be uneasy by observing that all cares and all duties were suspended. while

while she was disposing beds of Carnations, or knots of Anemonies. Even when she tore herself away, and returned to her employments, her flowers still pursued her, and the improvement of her mind gave way to the cultivation of her Geraniums."

" 'I am afraid,' said the poor girl,' that I must really give it up.' I would not hear of this. I would not suffer her to deny herself so pure a pleasure. She then suggested the expedient of limiting her time, and hanging up her watch in the conservatory to keep her within her prescribed bounds. She is so observant of this restriction, that when her allotted time is expired, she forces herself to leave off, even in the midst of the most interesting operation. By this limitation a treble end is answered. Her time is saved, self-denial is exercised, and the interest which would languish by protracting the work is kept in fresh vigour." I told Mrs. Stanley that I had observed her watch hanging in a citron-tree the day I came, but little thought it had a moral meaning.

meaning. She said, it had never been left there since I had been in the house, for fear of causing interrogatories." Here Mrs. Stanley left me to my meditations.

It is wisely ordered that all mortal enjoyments should have some alloy. I never tasted a pleasure since I had been at the Grove, I never witnessed a grace, I never heard related an excellence of Lucilla without a sigh that my beloved parents did not share my happiness. "How would they," said I," delight in her delicacy, rejoice in her piety, love her benevolence, admire her humility, her usefulness! O how do children feel, who wound the peace of living parents by an unworthy choice, when not a little of my comfort springs from the certainty that the departed would rejoice in mine! Even from their blessed abode, my grateful heart seems to hear them say, this is the creature we would have chosen for thee! This is the creature with whom we shall rejoice with thee through all eternity."

Yet such was my inconsistency, that charmed

charmed as I was, that so young and lovely a woman could be so cheaply pleased, and delighted with that simplicity of taste which made her resemble my favourite heroine of Milton in her amusements, as well as in her domestic pursuits; still I longed to know what those Christmas diversions, so slightly hinted at, could be; diversions which could reconcile these girls to their absence not only from their green-house, but from London. I could hardly fear indeed to find at Stanley Grove what the news-papers pertly call Private Theatricals. Still I suspected it might be some gay dissipation, not quite suited to their general character, nor congenial to their usual amusements. My mother's favourite rule of consistency strongly forced itself on my mind, though I tried to repel the sugges tion as unjust and ungenerous..

Of what meannesses will not love beguil ty! It drove me to have recourse to my. friend Mrs. Comfit to dissipate my doubts.. From her I learnt that that cold and com-fortless season was mitigated at Stanley.

Grove by several feasts for the poor of different classes and ages. "Then, Sir," continued she, "if you could see the blazing fires, and the abundant provisions! The roasting and the boiling and the baking. The house is all alive? On those days the drawersand shelves of Miss Lucilla's storeroom are completely emptied. 'Tis the most delightful bustle, Sir, to see our young ladies tying on the good women's warm cloaks, fitting their caps and aprons, and sending home blankets to the infirm who cannot come themselves. The very little ones kneeling down on the ground to try on the poor girls' shoes; even little Miss Celia; and she is so tender to fit them exactly and not hurt them! Last feast-day, not finding a pair small enough for a poor little girl, she privately slipped off her own and put on the child. It was some time before it was discovered that she herself was without shoes. We are all alive, Sir.-Parlour and hall and kitchen, all is in motion! Books and business and walks, and gardening,

all