"So saying, she wished me good night, leaving me to my own thoughts, which were, perhaps, never more painful. "The housekeeper had done her duty, and, in so doing, had set before me all the error of my ways; and it seemed to me, at that moment, as if new light had broken in upon me, shewing the vileness of my intentions in their most prominent point of view. But I was ambitious; and in that one word, ambition, all that is hateful, and all that is cruel, mean, and despicable in the human character, is contained. It is in our dealings, not with our inferiors, nor with our equals, but with our superiors, that the passion of ambition is excited.

"The Golden Rule, in all intercourse with our fellowcreatures, is this-to do unto others what we would they should do unto us. But how can this be done? it may be asked. I reply, only on the supposition that our own desires are reasonable, moderate, and just. An ambitious man, an envious man, or a covetous man, can never do to ethers what he would they should do unto him, because his desires and expectations are immoderate: he would have all his neighbour's wealth or all his honours. The Golden Rule, therefore, can never be attained by him, for his own covetous desires will ever weigh down the scale of Justice to his own side. But, in the degree that he becomes humble and moderate, in that degree he becomes better prepared to fulfil this law of love, and more and more able, as well as ready, to do to others as he would they should do to him, under like circumstances and on like occasions.

"This Golden Rule was exemplified, in the highest perfection, in the man Christ Jesus, who, feeling for us as for himself in our circumstances, did precisely for us what he would have desired should be done for himself had it been possible that he could have been in our situation. And, in the degree that a Christian approaches nearer and nearer to the example of his Saviour, he is the more enabled to observe the Golden Rule.

"Had my situation and that of my sweet Agnes been reversed, I am fully sensible she would have felt that all had been done for her which she could possibly have required she would have desired no more, nay, she would have been contented with less. And thus, in

weighing her own more moderate desires with her duty to others, she would have found it easy to have balanced the account, and brought her actions down to the rule of Justice.

"I hardly know whether I have expressed myself clearly on this difficult point; but this is the result of what I would say that he who is most free from ambition, most humble and moderate in his own desires, is the person who can best fulfil the duty of doing to others what he would they should do unto him. And, most assuredly, if this be allowed as a truth, it will serve to remove the supposed insurmountable difficulty of obeying our Lord's injunction.

"I was kept awake several hours by my meditations on what the housekeeper had said to me; and the result of my meditations was this, that I would endeavour to be more cautious in my conduct towards Mr. Fitzgerald, since the eyes of one of the household, at least, were upon me. But I purposed no improvement of character, for I was not the subject of a change of heart.

"It was more than a fortnight after the arrival of Mr. Fitzgerald before my cousin was able to leave her room, and, during that period, I was not wanting to myself, but used every means I could think of to secure his affections, and, in so doing, as might be expected, engaged my own feelings in the cause, in such a way as I had not foreseen, but which was a very proper and natural consequence of my sin. In proportion, however, as my regard for Mr. Fitzgerald increased, my dispositions towards my cousin partook more and more of the feelings of hatred; and such was their nature, that even her excellencies and her kindness towards me, rendered her more and more the object of my aversion. I particularly envied in her a freedom from those passions which made my life so miserable; but I gave her no credit for this freedom, but, on the contrary, used often to say to myself, that her composure of mind was owing to her singularly happy situation, and to her being in possession of all that could make life desirable. It never occurred to me, that the equanimity of her mind proceeded from piety. She had been nursed by a pious woman, who still continued to live with her in the character of a waiting-maid; and by this simple means she had

been brought, through the divine blessing, to seek her God in the days of her youth. Hence proceeded that calmness of mind and sweetness of manner, which rendered her the object of the love and admiration of all who saw her, with the exception only of myself.

"During the time of her confinement to her room, while Mr. Fitzgerald was in the house, I of course frequently visited her in the chamber, and generally found her reading some serious book, or cutting out garments for the poor; but, as I avoided mentioning Mr. Fitzgerald's name, she seldom asked me any questions about him, and it was evident that her thoughts were not occupied concerning him. Her illness, though short, had an alarming tendency; and it appeared, as she afterwards told me, that the impressive views of death and mortality given her at that time, had much loosened her affections from the world, and had operated as a suitable warning to prepare her for an early departure. The time, however, at length arrived, when she was to leave her room; and my uncle, one morning at breakfast, announced to Mr. Fitzgerald, with great glee, that he hoped he should have the pleasure of introducing him to his daughter at dinner. The young gentleman coloured on receiving this information, but I could not exactly interpret this symptom; I was, however, so violently affected, that, as soon as I possibly could, I withdrew to a summer-house, which was built on the wall in a distant part of the garden, and there, for a time, gave free and uninterrupted vent to my tears.

"I endeavoured to suppose that these were tears of sweet and amiable sensibility, when, on the contrary, they were nothing but the effusions of selfishness and passion. My heart and affections had not been taken by surprise by Mr. Fitzgerald; on the contrary, believing that the parents had intended a marriage between him and my cousin, I had formed the selfish project of disconcerting their plan. And if, in the pursuit of my object, my own feelings were disturbed and injured, it was, as I have before said, no more than might have been expected, and no more than I deserved.

"I continued weeping in the summer-house till I heard some voices near the wall on the outside of the garden. The wall was skirted by a small coppice, which was inter

sected by several narrow pathways; but these were so seldom frequented, that they were almost overgrown with moss. I had scarcely time to withdraw from the window at which I had sat weeping, with my handkerchief at my eyes, before Mr. Fitzgerald and my uncle appeared.

"My uncle was earnestly engaged in conversation, and did not see me; but not so Mr. Fitzgerald. He perceived me, and, no doubt, remarked my dejected appearance; for, although he took no notice at the time, but passed on with my uncle, in less than a quarter of an hour he returned to the summer-house, by the way of the garden, and entered without ceremony.

"He at first took no notice of my tears, but asking permission to sit down by me, he entered into a conversation, in which he frankly told me, that it was the wish of the parents on both sides that a marriage should take place between him and my cousin; and observed, that as he was entirely dependent on his parents, he had no choice but to submit to their desires. He hinted how much he had been disappointed, when, after our first conversation, he had found that I was not the daughter of his father's friend; and he added, that he could have little hope that he should find in my cousin any qualities which could make him cease to regret his disappointment.

"All this was very fine to the ear, but it was decidedly wrong, and it was what I ought not to have listened to for one moment; but it pleased me, because it flattered my vanity, though, as he had not yet seen my cousin, it could hardly be said to lower her. We were disturbed in this unprofitable discourse by the necessity of appearing at dinner.

"It may be supposed that I was exceedingly anxious to observe the first effect of the appearance of Agnes on Mr. Fitzgerald, thinking that I should be able to read in his countenance, on this occasion, whether I had any thing more to expect from his regard to me. But I found, with dismay, sudden and strong expressions of admiration, on his part, when she appeared; and the artless simplicity and sweetness of her manners seemed every moment to gain increasingly upon him.

"From that moment, he shunned every occasion of being alone with me; and, as there were no prudential ob

stacles in the way of this marriage, it was hurried on by the parents, and I had the mortification, in a few months, of assisting at it, in the character of bridesmaid.

"It may be supposed that the ill success of my plan with respect to Mr. Fitzgerald, who was the only man in the world for whom I had ever entertained any preference, did not render my feelings towards my cousin, who was become his happy wife, more agreeable than they had been before. In short, I became so uneasy in my own mind, that I rejoiced to receive the addresses of a young officer who was quartered in the next town.

"My uncle behaved very handsomely to me on my marriage, and presented me with six thousand pounds, and my cousin added some very expensive presents.

"As my husband had what is called good interest in the army, we entertained no thought of leaving the course of life he had chosen. We accordingly joined our regiment, and accompanied it into different parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Although my husband had nothing more than his pay, yet the interest of my fortune enabled us to live in a style quite superior to any other married officer in the regiment. But we were not satisfied with this. Although we had all we could reasonably desire, yet our anxiety for promotion was the same as if our very existence depended on it; and I have often recollected the glee with which my husband would proclaim the death of a superior officer, and how frequently he made 'speedy promotion' his

toast.

"All this, which is too frequently practised in the army, is counted but a façon de parler, and it is pleaded, that those who use this language use it without thought, and without the smallest wish to injure a brother officer, or to see him injured. But what does Scripture say on this subject? A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh. (Luke vi. 45.) And we may judge of the nature and tendency of these speeches, when our dearest friends, our husbands, and sons, are made the subjects of them. Ask what the bereaved mother or widow would feel were she to hear