where all sorts of children are collected and little attention is paid to their private habits. Suffice it to say, that at the end of my school career I was almost, if not altogether, as complete a heathen as when I left India. My external appearance was, however, no doubt, greatly improved. I could dress well, I could dance well, draw a little, play a little, write a common-place letter in a tolerable hand, could speak good English, and embroider muslin; and I could hide my faults where I thought it necessary, and appear as amiable as most other young ladies, whenever it served my purpose to do so.

"It had been long determined that in my eighteenth year I was to leave school and return to my father in India: but as there was the interval of several months between the time appointed for my leaving London and my actual embarkation, it was agreed by my father's agent in town, that I should spend that time with a lady in the country. That I may explain my connexion with this lady, I shall proceed to give some account of the relations whom I had left in India.

"Since my mother's death my father had remained a widower. He had frequently been removed from place to place, and had settled at Monghyr, a most beautiful station in Bengal, inclosed on one side by the Rajemahal hills, and on the other by the Ganges. There he had prepared a house for my reception, and I had frequently anticipated a residence there in all the pride and pomp of Oriental magnificence.

"My uncle, in the mean time, was living at Bauglepore, a smaller station than Monghyr, and a little lower down, on the banks of the river.

"I should have informed my reader, that his wife, who was my mother's sister, had died some years before my birth, leaving an only child, who was as much as seven years older than myself. This daughter, by naine Euphemia, had been sent to England immediately on her mother's death, and placed under the care of a distant relation in Worcestershire, by whom she had been brought up. Nor had her education been conducted in the careless and superficial manner in which mine had unfortunately been: but such attention had been paid to her, and so greatly had the divine blessing attended the labours of her instructors, that when

she returned to India she was an honour to her sex and a blessing to all such of her near connexions as were not actually resolved not to be benefited by her. Poor Euphemia had not, however, such a home to return to as a correct and elegant young woman could be supposed to enjoy; and therefore she was probably the more rejoiced at an early deliverance from this unhappy home, by a marriage with the son of the lady by whom she had been educated, and who, probably with the sole view of following his cousin, had interested his friends to procure him a cadetship in the civil service, and was now actually residing, with his wife and child, in a small house not very distant from his father-in-law. Euphemia was, then, at the time of my leaving school, a married woman and the mother of children, and it was to her instructress and friend in England, that I was to go during the interval between my leaving school and returning to India.

66 And now, it may be seasonable to explain the reasons why Euphemia, in returning to her father's house, found it so wretched. I do not, however, profess at this time to enter into many particulars, as I shall find occasion shortly to give my reader a very exact account of my uncle's ill-regulated household; but would remark only, that when my uncle had lost his European wife and parted from his child, finding his situation as a widower somewhat irksome, he formed a sort of contract of marriage with a native woman, a mussulmaunnee, with whom he had resided from that period, and by whom he had a large family of sons and daughters, some older and some younger than myself, but all partaking in their manners and appearance more of the Asiatic mother than of the European father. The history of my uncle's family had been given me more than once by persons who had -visited me from India, and I had frequently diverted myself and my companions at the expence of my Asiatic cousins and my uncle's extraordinary household; for I had neither feeling nor principle sufficient to weigh, in a serious manner, the evil effects to the old gentleman himself, from this association, not only with one of another complexion, but of a religion so wholly adverse to the truth.

"But, for the present, having already said all that is needful on this subject, I shall return to my own parti

cular history: but I must first acknowledge a strange negligence, of which my young readers are undoubtedly aware, namely, that I have omitted to tell them my name and that of my parents, particulars which are generally of more than minor importance to young persons when they study the narrative of any individual. Be it then known, that the name of my father's family is Richardson, and that of my mother Fairlie, and that the name which was given me by my parents is Olivia.

"And now, having given my reader all necessary satisfaction on this subject, I proceed.

"I do not recollect that I felt much on leaving the seminary where I had spent the most important years of my childhood and youth: for I had found little in that place either to gain my affections or claim my esteem ; and I therefore scarcely shed a tear when I parted from my teachers and companions, to enter on my journey into Worcestershire, where my relation Mrs. Fairlie lived, but I was eager to receive pleasure from every change of scene or company which might present itself.

My journey was made in a stage-coach, with a servant of Mrs. Fairlie's; and I have no doubt that I afforded no small amusement to two gentlemen who were also in the coach, by my inexperienced remarks on all I saw and heard.

"Having passed through the city of Worcester, and left our fellow-travellers, I, with the servant, hired a post-chaise, and proceeded to Mrs. Fairlie's house, which was situated about fourteen miles distant from the county town, in the direction of Wales, and in that part of Worcestershire which at once partakes of the wild beauties of Wales and the rich fertility of England.

"Mrs. Fairlie was a widow, and possessed a property sufficient to afford her all the comforts and even some of the elegancies of life. She resided on a small estate, situated on one of the declivities of a long range of hills, which, although not very high, were so finely formed, so clothed with groves of trees, so varied with valleys, so richly furnished with brooks and waterfalls, and every variety of dale and dingle, rock and coppice, that I scarcely believe the world can elsewhere supply a more lovely region.

"Mrs. Fairlie's house was built of white stone, taken

from a neighbouring quarry. In its front was a lawn sloping towards the east, and to the right and left the windows of the house commanded views of the valley of the Teme, terminated at one end by the Glocestershire hills, and on the other by the Clee hills, and to the back of the house, grove rose above grove, and height above height, till the summits of the highest trees seemed, as it were, to pierce the very clouds.

"In this most lovely abode, I found Mrs. Fairlie living in a holy, peaceful, and blessed retirement, being entirely devoted to her God and her domestic duties; for, independent of her eldest son, now in India, she had several other children, all younger, and some even in infancy.

"It was from what I saw in this house that I was first led to believe that elegance might exist wholly distinct from fashion, and that it was possible to be happy without splendour and parade.

"I was received with much cordiality by Mrs. Fairlie, and with many innocent smiles by her children. I have often thought since, that had she known me then as I know myself, she would have shuddered to have introduced such a serpent into her earthly paradise; for my sentiments and thoughts were unholy, and it was a painful restraint to me to affect those feelings of virtue in the presence of Mrs. Fairlie which were quite the reverse to all I really experienced.

"I did not, however, perceive that I was suspected as being different from what I appeared to be, and I did not observe that there was any watch upon me when left with the young people.

"It was the beginning of the Midsummer holidays when I arrived in Worcestershire, and the widow's family were then all united under one roof, with the exception of the first-born, who was in India, and whom the excellent mother daily recollected in her prayers, besides the frequent mention which was made of him in an incidental manner.

"I was considerably fatigued when I arrived at the Fall, which was the name of my relation's place,—a name which had been given it from time immemorial by the country people, on account of two waterfalls in its immediate neighbourhood, and saw little more of the family that evening than their smiling faces round the supper

table. In the morning, however, we all met together in a large, old-fashioned parlour, which had formerly been a ball, and which now supplied the place of breakfast-room, work-room, and school-room.

"Here all my young relations were assembled, and, after the morning devotions and the breakfast, they all sat down to their different employments. The boys were busy with their holiday tasks, and the daughters with their books and needles; while the mother went from one to another, encouraging, directing, and approving.

"In the mean time, we were delighted with the sound of rushing waters, murmuring bees, and rustling leaves; while the fragrance of many sweet flowers, and the song of many birds, with the distant lowing of the cattle in the vale below, contributed to charm the senses. In imitation of my cousins, I had provided myself with some employment: but while my hands were occupied, my mind was busy on other matters; and I was comparing the past, the present, and what I expected to be my future mode of life, forming visions of happiness, in which all that was agreeable in each was blended together, and from which all I could conceive disagreeable was excluded.

"Thus, while I sat deeply occupied in meditation on my expected garden of roses, which was to be without a single thorn, the morning wore away, and we were called to an early dinner; after which, it was proposed that we should proceed to a cottage at some distance, where we were to drink tea.

"This was a new species of enjoyment to me, and I partook of it with no small enthusiasm: yet I wished that Mrs. Fairlie herself would not have joined the party, as I could not divest myself of the idea, that if I could but meet with my young cousins in the absence of their mother, I should find, in some of them at least, more congeniality with my own temper than I had hitherto discovered. But Mrs. Fairlie had resolved to accompany us, and I was not a little surprised at the joy which her children expressed on her mentioning this resolution. We accordingly set out, being provided with such refreshments as we meant to take at the end of our walk.

"Mrs. Fairlie had four daughters, and as many sons. The eldest daughter was considerably older than the other