Part 4

Great God! to thee my ev'ning song, With humble gratitude, I raise; O let thy mercy tune my tongue, And fill my heart with lively praise?

My days unclouded, as they pass, And ev'ry gently rolling hour, Are monuments of wond'rous grace, And witness to thy love and power.

Thy love and power, celestial guard, Preserve me from surrounding harms: Can danger reach me, while the Lord Extends his kind protecting arms?

Let cheering hope my eyelids close, With sleep refresh my feeble frame, Safe in thy care may I repose, And wake with praises to thy name.

_CHAPTER V._

MONDAY.

_Mrs. Harley._ The story you are to read this morning, my dear, is founded upon facts which come within my own observation. I dare say you have frequently heard the French Revolution spoken of: it was this event which gave rise to the incidents contained in

_The History of the Melcour Family._

Mr. de Melcour was the son of a younger branch of a good family; his father died when he was quite a child, and left him but a small patrimony. He early entered the army, where for many years he served his country with honour and fidelity: he was present in several engagements, and by his bravery and exemplary conduct, acquired the esteem of all his fellow officers. During the peace which followed the American war he married an amiable lady, whose fortune united to his own, enabled him to quit the noisy scenes of a military life, and settle on a beautiful little estate he purchased in the province of Gascony. Here he enjoyed all the happiness which a good conscience, a good temper, and a feeling heart can bestow, joined to the blessings of domestic peace. Madame de Melcour spent her time in the bosom of her family; she had little taste for the dissipation of the capital, and possessing only a limited income, had she indulged herself in expensive pleasures, she must have foregone the higher satisfaction of contributing to the comfort of those in less fortunate circumstances. She had profited by the excellent education her parents had been careful to give her, and this enabled her to bring up her own children with little assistance from others. Frederic and Elizabeth were the happiest little boy and girl in the neighbourhood: they tenderly loved their parents, and feeling the necessity of doing their duty, it became quite habitual to them. The little faults natural to childhood they were conscious would not be punished with severity, and their good actions they knew would never pass unrewarded. Frederic employed much of his time in working in a little garden that his father had given him: Elizabeth assisted in the management of the flowers, and their highest ambition was to present their mamma with a nosegay of roses, before any were blown in the _great_ garden.

Thus happily passed many years at Melcour; when the troubles attendant on the revolution came to disturb the tranquillity of their domestic enjoyment. M. de Melcour was called upon to resume a military command; and though he disapproved of many of the measures that had been pursued by the government, yet, when he saw his sovereign in distress, he would not withhold his aid. He was particularly active in endeavouring to put a stop to the devastation caused by a misguided populace; and in a fray between some peasants and soldiers, he fell a victim to his benevolent exertions in the cause of humanity.

The sad news was brought to Madame de Melcour just as she was recovering from the bed of sickness; her constitution already much weakened, was unable to support the fatal shock, and she soon after closed her eyes for ever in the arms of her beloved children.

At this period, Frederic was just fifteen, his sister two years younger; they were left without any protector but an aged grandmother, who had constantly resided with her daughter since the marriage of the latter with M. de Melcour. Already suffering from the infirmities of age, Madame de Joinville felt herself unable to resist the persecutions of ill-disposed persons, and in the course of a few months found it necessary to leave the chateau. It was her intention to retire with her grandchildren into England, the country where she had spent much of the early part of her life, and where she still hoped to discover some of her former friends. Accordingly, having settled her affairs as well as the distracted state of the nation would permit, and, accompanied by Frederic and Elizabeth, she proceeded to the nearest seaport. They encountered many difficulties on the road, but at length, through Frederic's activity, succeeded in securing their passage in a vessel that was on the point of sailing for England.

Madame de Joinville suffered extremely from the fatigues and anxieties she had lately undergone, and on their arrival at ---- it was found necessary to remain there a few days in order to recruit her exhausted strength.

As soon as Madame de Joinville was sufficiently recovered, they hastened to London, where, by the assistance of some friends, a small house was hired for their reception. The expences of a long journey had much diminished the sum Madame de Joinville had collected before her departure from France, and the most rigid economy was necessary to prevent them from becoming burthensome to others. In these circumstances, Frederic could not bear the idea of leading an idle life; he greatly wished to follow the profession of his father, but the anxious fears of his grandmother and sister long opposed his inclinations: however, he at length prevailed, and entered a regiment that was ordered on foreign service. The parting between Elizabeth and Frederic was a melancholy scene: she was long inconsolable for his loss, but religion, which she had always been taught to consider as the best comforter of the afflicted, came to her aid, and feeling the necessity of submission, she determined by active exertions to divert her mind from past calamities.

It was now that Elizabeth felt the inestimable advantages of _a good education_; she perfectly understood the English language; her industry and punctuality procured her many friends, who, young as she was, entrusted her with the translation of papers of consequence, and the reward she received for her labour, greatly contributed to the support of the family. Every instant she could spare from her employment and the care of their domestic affairs, was devoted to her grandmother. She nursed her when sick, read aloud for her amusement, and by every kind attention endeavoured to lessen her regret for the blessings she had lost. Madame de Joinville has often been heard to declare, that without the filial affection of her granddaughter she could hardly have supported her afflictions. The infirmities of age must sometimes render those advanced in years petulant and capricious: Elizabeth never murmured when her endeavours to please failed of success; much less did she irritate her grandmother by contradiction; she patiently submitted to these trials of her temper, and when evening came, and Madame de Joinville retired to rest, Elizabeth thought herself amply repaid for any little disappointments she had encountered during the day, by receiving her blessing and the assurance of her tenderest love.

Frederic remained two years abroad; whatever he could spare from his own actual wants he constantly remitted to his sister; but without her industry they would often have been greatly distressed. At length Elizabeth's noble and pious conduct was made known to a lady who had formerly been an intimate acquaintance of Madame de Joinville's family. Her visits to the old lady gave her constant opportunities of witnessing the amiable disposition of her granddaughter; and anxious to reward her virtues, she interested herself so warmly in their concerns, that at length, through the intercession of some powerful friends, a restitution of part of M. de Melcour's property was procured for his children. Elizabeth when in happier circumstances preserved the same humility of mind, and her never failing attention to her grandmother was rewarded by the pleasure of seeing the comforts of her last days make amends for the sorrows that had embittered so many of her former ones.

Frederic arrived in England soon after this happy change in their circumstances; he would have wished his sister to return to their native country, but the inconvenience of removing her grandmother, and the still unquiet state of the continent, induced her to prefer a residence in that land where she was secured from the horrors she had once witnessed. Frederic yielded to her reasons; and when their affairs obliged him to leave her, a constant correspondence maintained the affection that had always subsisted from their earliest years.

* * * * *

"Dear mamma," said Anne, "I think I like Elizabeth better than any of the young people I have yet read about, but do you really believe there ever was so good a character?"

_Mrs. Harley._ Certainly, my dear; and I have no doubt but many such are to be found. They must be depraved indeed, who can be wanting in affection to their parents. But I fear we must not comment a great deal on this story at present, or there will not be time to give you some account of _Geography_, which I intend for your study this morning.

_Anne._ I will then, mamma, after dinner, ask you to explain to me a few of the words I did not quite understand.

_Mrs. Harley._ Do, my dear, I shall be happy to give you all the information you desire.

FOURTH LESSON.

_Mrs. Harley._ You know, my dear, what is meant by Geography?

_Anne._ O yes, mamma, Geography is a description of the earth we inhabit.

_Mrs. Harley._ And the earth (which the globe before us represents,) is divided into four parts, viz. Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. The three first are contained in the eastern hemisphere, and are called the old world. America is situated in the western hemisphere, and is called the new world, because discovered in modern times.

_Anne._ Pray, mamma, is not a continent one of the divisions of the land?

_Mrs. Harley._ Yes, my dear; for after we have divided the whole globe into land and water, we again subdivide the land into Continents, Islands, Peninsulas, Isthmusses, and Promontories,--the water into Oceans, Seas, Straits, Gulfs, Bays, Lakes, Rivers, and Creeks.

A Continent is a large tract of land containing several countries which are not separated by seas; as Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.

An Island, is a tract of land entirely surrounded by water, as Britain, Ireland, Sicily, &c.

A Peninsula, is a tract of land almost surrounded by water, and is joined to the main land by an isthmus, as the Morea.

An Isthmus, is a narrow neck of land that joins a peninsula to the continent, as the Isthmus of Corinth.

A Cape or Promontory, is that high part of land which shoots into the sea, and appears to terminate in a point, as the Cape of Good Hope in Africa, Cape Finistere in Spain, &c.

A Shore or Coast, is that land which borders upon the sea.

The Ocean, is that general collection of water which surrounds the whole earth. It is distinguished by the names of the four cardinal points of the world; viz. the northern or icy ocean, which environs the north pole; the western or Atlantic Ocean, which lies between Europe and America, extending to the Equator; the southern or Ethiopic Ocean, which extends from the Equator between Africa and America; and the Eastern or Indian Ocean, which washes the eastern coast of Africa, and the southern coast of Asia. To these have been added by later discoveries the Pacific Ocean, commonly called the Great South Sea, between America and Asia; and the Antarctic Icy Ocean which surrounds the South Pole.

A Sea, is a part of the Ocean, into which we must enter by some strait, and it is almost surrounded by land, as the Mediterranean and Baltic Seas.

A Strait, is a narrow passage opening a way into some sea, as the Straits of Gibraltar, the Hellespont.

A Gulf is a part of an ocean or sea, which runs up considerably into the land, as the Gulf of Venice, the Gulf of Mexico, &c.

A Bay is a smaller kind of gulf, (and is frequently much smaller at the entrance than in the middle) as the Bay of Naples.

A Lake is a collection of water entirely surrounded by land, as the Lake of Geneva, and the Lake of Constance: when no stream flows in or out of it, it is called a pool.

A River is a current or stream, which rises in some elevated land, and flows into the sea, another river, or lake, as the River Thames, the Medway, and the River St. Lawrence.

A Creek, is a small part of the sea or of a river which runs but a little way into the land.

That part of the sea which flows between the shores of an Island and a Continent, is called a Channel, as the English Channel.

This description of the divisions of land and water, I wish you to commit to memory; and I will shew you all the names I have mentioned on the globe, which will give you a more perfect idea of them, than you can acquire by reading only.

_Anne._ Thank you, mamma; but I hope you will tell me a little more of the earth.

_Mrs. Harley._ Willingly, my dear. You have read that after the flood, the world was peopled by Noah's children: Shem and his descendants spread over Asia, Ham over Africa, and Japhet over Europe. It is uncertain who were the original inhabitants of America. Europe, though the smallest of the four parts of the world, is much the most populous; and here the arts and sciences are brought to the greatest perfection: it is divided into different countries, of which the following are the principal, though many of them, have undergone great changes during the last few years.

ON THE NORTH.

_Countries._ _Capitals._

1 Norway Bergen 2 Sweden Stockholm 3 Denmark Copenhagen 4 Russia St. Petersburgh

IN THE MIDDLE.

British {England London Dominions 1 {Scotland Edinburgh {Ireland Dublin 2 France Paris 3 Swisserland Bern 4 Netherlands Brussels 5 United Provinces Amsterdam 6 Germany Vienna 7 Bohemia Prague 8 Hungary Presburgh 9 Poland Cracow 10 Prussia Koningsburgh

Note. Berlin, in Germany, was the capital of the king of Prussia's Dominions.

IN THE SOUTH.

1 Spain Madrid 2 Portugal Lisbon 3 Italy Rome 4 Turkey Constantinople

The most considerable Islands of Europe are

Great Britain and Ireland in the Atlantic Ocean,

Iceland in the Northern Ocean,

Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Majorca, Minorca, Candia, all in the Mediterranean sea, and the Islands in the Archipelago.

It is now so late my dear, that I must finish my account of Europe to-morrow; good bye, and try to remember what I have already told you.

_CHAPTER VI._

TUESDAY.

_Anne._ You see me earlier than usual this morning, dear mamma; but as I know all the geography you desired me to learn quite perfectly, I hope you will give me leave to read another story.

_Mrs. Harley._ Certainly, my dear: but remember to read very distinctly; make proper pauses; fall your voice at a period, and begin the next sentence in rather a higher tone; aspirate the _H_, excepting in such words as _hour_, _honour_, _heiress_, and a few others where it is silent: and above all, avoid a monotonous manner of reading, for nothing can be more unpleasant to those who are listening to you, than to hear a tale, however interesting in itself, read on in one continued tone: instead of affording any amusement, it only induces the persons you are reading to, to wish for a cessation of the unpleasant murmuring noise which offends their ears.

_Anne._ I will attend to what you say, mamma, while I am reading the following story, which is called

_The Advantages of Truth._

George Elliot the son of a respectable gentleman, had been paying a visit to his uncle, and on his return home, was accompanied by one of his cousins, who was to spend a few months with him at Hartley, Mr. Elliot's country residence.

George was a boy of a frank and generous disposition, and good abilities; these being cultivated by a careful education, made him at the age of eleven years, a well-informed and agreeable boy. Charles Morden his cousin, was much his inferior in every respect. Accustomed to excessive indulgence, he became fretful and idle, and often entered into mischief, for the sake of having _something to do_; his parents so plentifully supplied him with play-things, that he was consequently tired of every thing he possessed, and only desirous of what was in expectation; nay, worse, for to obtain any particular gratification, he would not scruple making use of falshood. Such was the boy, now unfortunately the constant companion of George Elliot.

Mr. Elliot indulged his son in every innocent amusement proper for his age, but loved him too well to suffer his faults to pass unnoticed. George had been long anxious for a poney, and as soon as a proper one could be purchased, his father presented it to him, and often allowed him to ride out, either accompanied by himself or a servant, but particularly forbade him from ever mounting any other horse in the stables, telling him at the same time, the many fatal accidents that had occurred, owing to boys attempting to ride horses they were unable to manage. George promised obedience, and had strictly adhered to his word.

It was settled that Charles was to share the studies, as well as the amusements of his cousin, and the gentleman to whose care George's education was confided, paid equal attention to both, though he soon perceived that Charles had little delight in useful occupations: and he was always glad of some excuse that might save him the trouble of attending Mr. Darford, and laughed at George for being always _fagging_ as he called it.

About two months after his son's return, Mr. Elliot was obliged by some business of importance, to take a journey that he thought might detain him about a fortnight from home. He embraced the children at parting, desired them to behave well, and at his return they should be rewarded.

For the first week after Mr. Elliot's departure, the boys were so good, and their tutor so well pleased with their conduct, that one fine day he gave them a holiday, telling them, that provided they avoided all mischievous amusements they were at liberty to spend the day in any manner most agreeable to themselves.--During several hours, they were employed in catching their balls, flying their kites, working in the garden, &c. At length, Charles seeing a little boy going by on horseback, said he should like nothing so well as a nice ride before dinner. "Nor I neither," answered George, "but you know it is impossible, my father having expressly forbidden us to ride out alone during his absence. Mr. Darford is not at home, and I know that all the men are busy." "What does that signify?" returned Charles, "we are surely old enough to take care of ourselves, and as to my uncle, he will never know any thing of the matter."

George was at first quite shocked at the idea of disobeying his father, but he at last suffered himself to be persuaded by the artful entreaties of his cousin, to do what he knew to be wrong. They went to the stables, where George took out his own little poney, and Charles one of his uncle's large horses, assuring his cousin that he could manage it very well. At their first setting out, they agreed not to go far from home, only just to ride round the paddock; the pleasantness of the weather, however, soon tempted them to alter their resolution, and they ventured into the high road. They went on very well for some time, and were just thinking of returning, when Charles's horse took fright at some object on the side of the road, and by a sudden start threw his rider; he was not much hurt by the fall, but the horse galloped away, and they soon lost all trace of the way he took: after wasting some time in fruitless endeavours to follow him, they were obliged to return home.

George was very uneasy, and bitterly repented the fault he had committed. "O Charles," cried he, "why did you ask me to disobey my father! Alas! I fear he will never forgive me."

"Don't cry so, pray," answered his cousin, "come, follow my advice, and this affair will never be discovered."--"How can that be? you surely forget the horse is lost, and besides, I would not upon any account tell an untruth." "You are very foolish then, let me tell you; for as nobody saw us go out, if we deny knowing any thing about the horse, we shall never be suspected."

"No, Charles, that I will never do; I had rather suffer the severest punishment that could be inflicted upon me, than tell a _lie_. Nothing shall induce me to add to the fault I have already committed. When my father comes home, I will confess what I have done, and rely upon his indulgence for pardoning a disobedience I so sincerely repent."

"Well then," said Charles, "if you will not follow my advice, at least you have no occasion to say it was I who persuaded you to take out the horses."--"I shall not even mention your name: but come, let us waste no more time, in regretting an action that cannot be recalled, we had better try by our future conduct, to make some reparation for the past."--So saying, he took his cousin by the arm, and they were together leaving the room, when Mr. Elliot entered. The young lads drew back in dismay; Mr. Elliot ran to embrace his son. "You see me here, my dear boy, sooner than you expected; but fortunately the business that called me hence, was concluded much earlier than I could have imagined." Some few minutes had elapsed, before George could gain courage to answer his father, at length he said, "you are convinced, my dear sir, that your company has always given me pleasure, but to day it causes me pain, for I have just been guilty of a fault that will I fear deprive me of your confidence." George here related to his father, all that had passed, except carefully concealing the part his cousin had acted; when he had finished, Mr. Elliot thus addressed him, "I am charmed with your noble conduct, my dear boy, and most willingly forgive the error you have committed, because I believe your repentance to be sincere, and am convinced you have told me the exact truth. Listen, now, to the consequences that would have ensued, had you concealed it: I was in the adjoining apartment, and heard the whole conversation that passed between yourself and Charles; so, had you, as he wickedly advised, had recourse to a falsehood, it would not have deceived _me_, but only have proved that _you_ were unworthy my care and affection: whereas, I now rejoice in the virtuous resolution of a son thus rendered dearer to me than ever. Always speak the _truth_, and be assured it is the easiest and surest way of extricating yourself from every difficulty.--As for you, Sir," continued Mr. Elliot turning to Charles, "I shall not take the trouble of punishing the meanness and depravity of your conduct, because I fear that any punishment I could inflict, would have little effect on a _liar_: I shall immediately send you back to your parents, with an account of this day's transactions, at the same time advising them to find some place far distant from all who belong to you, and where, under a severe discipline, you may be made to repent of your wickedness, and I hope in time recalled to that virtuous conduct from which you have now so miserably erred."