During this little debate, Sir John maintained the most invincible silence. His countenance bore not the least mark of ill humour or impatience, but it was serious and thoughtful; except when his wife got into any little difficulty; he then encouraged her by an affectionate smile, but listened like a man who has not quite made up his mind, yet thinks the subject too import ant to be dismissed without a fair and candid hearing. CHAP. XXV. WHILE we were at breakfast next morning, a sweet little girl flew into the room almost breathless with joy and running to her mother, presented her with a beautiful nosegay. "O, I see you were the industrious girl last week, Kate," said Mrs. Stanley, embracing her, and admiring the flowers. Lady Belfield looked inquisitively." It is an invention of Lucilla's," said the mother, "that the little one who performs best in the school room, instead of having any reward which may excite vanity or sensuality, shall be taught to gratify a better feeling, by being allowed to present her mother with a nosegay of the finest flowers, which it is reward enough to see worn at dinner, to which she is always admitted when there is no company." "O pray do not consider us as company; pray let Kate dine with us to day," said Lady Belfield. Mrs. Stanley bowed her assent, and went on. "But this is not all. The flowers they present, they also raise. I went rather too far, when I said that no vanity was excited; they are vain enough of their carnations, and each is eager to produce the largest. In this competition, however, the vanity is not personal. Lucilla has some skill in raising flowers, each girl has a subordinate post under her. Their father often treats them with half a day's work, and then they all treat me with tea and cakes in the honey-suckle arbour of their own planting, which is called Lucilla's bower. It would be hard to say whether parents or children most enjoy these happy holydays." At dinner Mrs. Stanley appeared with her nosegay in a large knot of ribbons, which was eyed with no small complacency by little Kate. I observed that Lucilla, who used to manifest much pleasure in the conversation after dinner, was beckoned out of the room by Phoebe, as soon as it was over. I felt uneasy at an absence, to which I had not been accustomed; but the cause was explained, when at six o'clock, Kate, who was the queen of the day, was sent to invite us to drink tea in Lucilla's bower; we instantly obeyed the summons. "I knew nothing of this," said the delighted mother, while we were admiring the elegant arrangements of this little fête. The purple clematis twisting its flexile branches with those of the pale woodbine, formed a sweet and fragrant canopy to the arched bower, while the flowery tendrils hung down on all sides. Large bunches of roses, intermixed with the silver stars of the jessamine, were stuck into the moss on the inside as a temporary decoration only. The finest plants had been brought from the Green-house for the occasion. It was a delicious evening, and the little fairy festivity, together with the flitting about of the airy spirits which had prepared it, was absolutely enchanting. Sir John, always poetical, exclaimed in rapture, Hesperian fables true, If true, here only. I needed not this quotation to bring the garden of They sung two or three baby stanzas, which they had composed among themselves, in which Kate was complimented as queen of the fête. The youngest daughter of Lady Aston, who was about Kate's age, and two little girls of Dr. Barlow's, were of the children's party on the green. The elder sisters of both families made part of the company within. When we were all seated in our enchanting bower, and drinking our tea, at which we had no other attendants than the little Hebes themselves, I asked Kate how it happened, that she seemed to be distinguished on this occasion from her little sisters. "Ö, sir," said she, "it is because it is my birth-day. I am eight years old to-day. I gave up all my gilt books, with pictures, this day twelvemonth, and to-day I give up all my little story books, and I am now going to read such books as men and women read." She then ran to her companions, who ranged themselves round a turf seat at a little distance before us, to which was transferred a profusion of cakes and fruit from the bower. While they were devouring them, I turned to Mr. Stanley and desired an explanation of Kate's speech. "I make," said he," the renouncing of their baby books a kind of epocha, and by thus distinctly marking the period, they never think of returning back to them. We have in our domestic plan, several of these artificial divisions of life. These little celebrations are eras, that we use as marking posts, from which we set out on some new course." 66 "But as to Kate's books," said Lady Belfield. "We have," replied Mr. Stanley, too many elementary books. They are read too much and too long. The youthful mind, which was formerly sick from inanition, is now in danger from a plethora. "Much however will depend on capacity and disposition. A child of slower parts may be indulged till nine years old with books which a lively genius will look down upon at seven. A girl of talents will read. To her no excitement is wanting. The natural appetite is a sufficient incentive. The less brilliant child requires the allurement of lighter books. She wants encouragement as much as the other requires restraint." "But don't you think," said Lady Belfield, that they are of great use in attracting children to love reading?" "Doubtless they are," said Mr. Stanley. "The misfortune is, that the stimulants used to attract at first, must be not only continued but heightened, to keep up the attraction. These books are novels in miniature, and the excess of them will lead to the want of novels at full length. The early use of savoury dishes is not usually followed by an appetite for plain food. To the taste thus pampered, history becomes dry, grammar laborious, and religion dull. "My wife, who was left to travel through the wide expanse of Universal history, and the dreary deserts of Rapin and Mezerai, is, I will venture to assert, more competently skilled in ancient French, and English history, than any of the girls who have been fed or rather starved on extracts and abridgments. I mean not to recommend the two last named authors for very young people. They are dry and tedious, and children in our days have opportunities of acquiring the same knowledge with less labour. We have brighter, I wish I could say safer, lights. Still fact, and not wit, is the leading object of history. "Mrs. Stanley says, that the very tediousness of her historians had a good effect; they were a ballast to her levity, a discipline to her mind, of which she has felt the benefit in her subsequent life. "But to return to the mass of children's books. The too great profusion of them protracts the imbecility of childhood. They arrest the understanding instead of advancing it. They give forwardness without strength. They hinder the mind from inaking vigorous shoots, teach it to stoop when it should soar, and to contract when it should expand. Yet I allow that many of them are delightfully amusing, and to a certain degree instructive. But they must not be used as the basis of instruction, and but sparingly used at all as refreshment from labour." "They inculcate morality and good actions, surely," said Lady Belfield. "It is true," replied Mr. Stanley, "but they often inculcate them on a worldly principle, and rather teach the pride of virtue, and the profit of virtue, than point out the motive of virtue, and the principle of sin. They reprobate bad actions as evil and injurious to others, but not as an offence against the Almighty. Whereas the Bible comes with a plain, strait forward, simple, but powerful prin eiple How shall I do this great wickedness and sin against GOD? Against THEE, THEE only have I sinned, and done this evil in THY sight.' "Even children should be taught that when a man has committed the greatest possible crime against his fellow-creature, still the offence against God is what will strike a true penitent with the most deep remorse. All morality which is not drawn from this scriptural source is weak, defective, and hollow. These entertaining authors seldom ground their stories on any intimation that human nature is corrupt; that the young reader is helpless and wants assistance; that he is guilty and wants pardon." "Surely, my dear Mr. Stanley," said Lady Belfield, "though I do not object to the truth and reasonableness of any thing you have said, I can. not think that these things can possibly be made intelligible to children." "The framers of our catechism, madam, thought otherwise," replied Mr. Stanley." The catechism was written for children, and contains all the seeds and principles of Christianity for men. It evidently requires much explanation, much developement; still it furnishes a wide and important field for colloquial instruction, without |