larly well-looking. But all this ought not to have influenced me as it did, persuaded, as I was, that he was the intended husband of my cousin.

"I affected some surprise at seeing him, apologized for my uncle's absence, (for he happened not to be at home,) called for refreshments, and did all in my power to render myself agreeable to my guest.

"I was soon aware that the young gentleman took me for my cousin, and I resolved to keep him under the delusion as long as circumstances would admit. I saw that, from time to time, he looked at me with a particular interest, and I had some pleasure in thinking that he seemed far from dissatisfied with my appearance. Refreshments were spread before him, but he was too much occupied to partake of them; and, when the servants were withdrawn, he removed from his seat by the table to one on the sofa by me, and, looking me full in the face, (though, in a manner sufficiently respectful,) he spoke of the anxiety he had long felt to see me, adding something highly gratifying to my vanity, relative to the perfect satisfaction he had derived from the sight of me. I passed this over, pretending not to hear all he said, and we fell into an easy discourse on indifferent subjects, in which I flattered myself that I did myself much credit; at least, I plainly saw that I succeeded in interesting my auditor, and was fully aware, that, if my unhappy cousin was out of the way, there would have been no objection made by Mr. Fitzgerald to have taken me in her stead: for, in case of her death, I was the rightful heiress to her father's estates.

"Mr. Fitzgerald and myself had been together for more than two hours, and no explanation had taken place, when my uncle came in from his ride. He welcomed the young gentleman with much cordiality, adding, 'I hope that my niece has done the honours of my house in my absence, as she ought to have done.'

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Your niece, Sir!' said Mr. Fitzgerald, evidently much discomposed, and blushing up to his very forehead.

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'Yes,' returned my uncle. Why, who did you take her for ?'

"Your daughter, certainly,' replied the other.

"My daughter! Why, Matilda, how could you?' said the old gentleman.

"I was not aware of the mistake,' I replied.

"But did you not tell Mr. Fitzgerald that poor Agnes is ill?'

"Mr. Fitzgerald had a book in his hand, which he dropped at that moment, and he leaned down to pick it up. It was natural that his face should be highly flushed after having stooped; notwithstanding which, I had reason to hope, that there was some other cause for this violent glow besides that which was apparent.

"At dinner our party was augmented by a visitor, whose habit it was to sit long over the bottle. I, however, left the dining-room soon after the table-cloth was removed, and, having visited Agnes, who enquired after Mr. Fitzgerald with as little interest as she would have done after any other stranger, I took a turn in the garden, where I had not been many minutes before I was joined by Mr. Fitzgerald, who had made his escape from the diningparlour. He proposed a walk in the park, having carelessly, though politely, enquired after the health of my

cousin.

"It was a lovely afternoon in the beginning of summer, and we prolonged our walk till the sun had set, concluding it with a visit to the mount which faces my closet-window, where we sat down for a while under the shade of yonder elm, whose leaf still flourishes with undiminished verdure, although generations have passed away since first it formed the glory of the forest.

"During our walk nothing particular had passed between me and my companion, although I thought that his manner had been attentive and even tender; but when we were seated, and all the lovely prospect seen from those heights was spread before us, while our senses were regaled with the odour of thyme and marjoram, and other fragrant herbs; after we had remained silent for a time, he suddenly turned to me, and, taking my hand, said, 'Tell me, fair lady, is your cousin like yourself?'

"No, Sir,' I replied, not in the least. Agnes is fair, and I am, as you see, brown as a nut.'

""Brown!" said he, 'no;' and he passed some high compliments on my complexion, my hair, and eyes, and again

said, 'But does not Agnes resemble you in any one respect?'

"No, Sir,' I replied, 'I do not presume to resemble Agnes in any thing. Her very delicacy of constitution gives her a beauty, to which I, who am all rude health, cannot aspire.'

"And how long, my charming Matilda,' he answered, 'how long have you been in the habit of considering sickliness a beauty?' and I thought he sighed.

"I remember little more of this conversation, but it was not interrupted till the old clock in the turret tolled the hour of nine, which, being my uncle's supper-time, we hastened back.

"When we withdrew to rest, our old housekeeper, who had known me from a child, came up to receive some orders from me, and, before she left the room, Miss Matilda,' said she, 'that Mr. Fitzgerald is a fine young gentleman, and I am glad of it for my dear young lady's sake.'

"Your young lady's sake!' I said; and what has she to do with Mr. Fitzgerald ?'

"Why, do you not know, Miss,' replied she, that this Mr. Fitzgerald has been destined to marry Miss Agnes from her infancy?'

"What! whether she likes him or not?' I asked. "And why should she not like him? I am sure he is a very fine young gentleman.'

"But, perhaps he may not like her,' I rejoined.

"Not like her! not like our sweet Miss Agnes!' she exclaimed, lifting up her hands and eyes, and giving me a searching look. But, however, Miss, I have told you what has been planned by the old gentlemen on both sides, and now you know it.'

"What then?' I asked.

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Why, you will know how to behave to the young gentleman,' she replied.

"And do you think I did not know that before?' I said. "How should you, Miss ?' returned the housekeeper. 'If you were not informed that he was bound in honour to another, you might, very innocently, have set your heart upon him; and so I thought, as you have no mother to give you a caution, there could be no harm in my just telling you how matters stand.'

"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