it, and appear perfectly satisfied with the amusements and harmony of their domestic circle.- During one of these visits, Mrs. Richardson fell sick, and died, to the inexpressible grief of the whole family; and in the confusion that such an event occasioned, willing to remove his children from a scene of sorrow, their fa, ther had consented for them to accompany Mrs. Bennet into the country.

Mr. Richardson, though possessed of religion and fortitude, had nearly sunk beneath this stroke; he was unable to apply to business, his health became impaired, and the physicians found it necessary to prescribe the Bath waters. Here, at some distance from the bustle and gaiety of the place, he remained for several months, when time and reflection began to restore him to himself, and he determined to return to town, arrange his business, recall his children, and make their improvement and happiness his first and dearest concern. -About twelve months had passed since Mrs. Richardson's death, when their father

came for them: his visits in that period, from the distance, had not been so frequent as he could have wished, nor was he by any means aware of the erroneous opinions they had imbibed, for Mrs. Bennet's mind still reverted to her former gaieties, which she did not fail to represent to the children in the most fascinating colours.

Charles had just attained his eleventh, and Mary her ninth, year; the first reflective and serious, wanted only the hand of instruction, to point out to him the proper pursuits he should follow; the latter, lively and volatile, needed not only instruction, but the curb of restraint; she was particularly pleased with the accounts she received from Mrs. Bennet, and eagerly wished to partake in her amusements.

Mr. Richardson, after passing one night at Reading, set off early the ensuing morning with his children for London. They parted from Mrs. Bennet's with concern: for she had been eager to gratify all their ittle caprices; but the presence of a respected father, who never refused them

any laudable indulgence, soon banished the past, and future gratification engrossed every thought. "My dear Sir," said Mary, "I am glad we are going to town: for, though I loved Mrs. Bennet very dearly, yet the country was so dull, that sometimes, if no one invited us out, we did not know what to do with ourselves; and you are so good, and love us so well, that now we are grown tall, we shall have a great deal of pleasure, and see every thing worth seeing."

"And pray,” replied Mr. Richardson, "what are the objects you consider as worth seeing.

"Bless me, papa, I can scarcely tell; Mrs. Bennet used to talk of so many, that I never thought of in mamma's lifetime; but, fine shops, the park, the play, the opera, the concert, and ball; with a number of others that I have daily heard of, and long to see."

"I am sorry for it; and yet more so, that the death of your excellent mother, and my own commercial concerns, have

forced me, for a time, to leave you in the care of a person that has given you so erroneous an opinion of pleasure; beside, my dear, do you consider, these amusements are very expensive, and it is the duty of a merchant to be careful.”

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Nay, now Sir, you joke," replied Charles, "for every body says you are very rich, and such trifles are nothing to you."

"Those who boasted of my wealth to you, Charles, were at once both weak and wicked: for every person of common understanding knows, that nothing is more precarious than the wealth of a merchant, whose prosperity depends on so many uncertain events, that if, after years spent in anxious toil, he can retire with an easy competeney, he must conclude himself a fortunate man. Your information was, therefore, as I before said, wicked; or, to give it a milder name, weak: as it was calculated to inspire you with extravagance and pride, which must make you suffer severely, should we ever experience a reverse of fortune. My welfare de

pends both on the weather and the prudence of others; for the loss of a rich freighted vessel, or the failure of my principal correspondents, might plunge me in ruin; in which case a good character, and industry, would be my only resource."

This answer was made to humble the pride of Charles, and had the desired ef fect, for he hung down his head in silence; while Mary, throwing her arms around her father's neck, exclaimed, "But such misfortunes will never happen, I hope, my dear papa!"

"I hope not," returned he, "but nothing in this mortal state is certain; and the utmost human prudence can effect is to merit, in as small a degree as possible, the evils we necessarily meet with:- for example, were I improperly elated with the success God has hitherto granted me, or were my whole thoughts devoted to pleasure, and I afterwards became unfortunate, should I not, think you, be universally condemned, instead of pitied?