suitable to her fortune, and do not consume the money which ought to be employed in more useful things for herself and others. Sally. But why might not she be contented with such things as I have; and give the money that the rest cost to the poor? Mrs. M. Because she can afford both to be charitable to the poor, and also to indulge herself in these pleasures. But do you recollect that the children of Mr. White the baker and Mr. Shape the taylor, might just ask the same questions about you? Sally. How so? Mrs. M. Are not you as much better dressed, and as much more plentifully supplied with playthings than they are, as Miss Pemberton is than you? Sally. Why, I believe I may, for I remember Polly White was very glad of one of my old dolls; and Nancy Shape cried for such a sash as mine, but her mother would not let her have one. Mrs. M. Then you see, my dear, that there are many who have fewer things to be thankful for than you have; and you may also learn what ought to be the true measure of the expectations of children, and the indulgences of parents. Sally. I don't quite understand you, Mrs. M. Every thing ought to be suited to the station in which we live, or are likely to live, and the wants and duties of it. Your papa and I do not grudge laying out part of our money to promote the innocent pleasure of our children but it would be very wrong in us to lay out so much on this ac count as would oblige us to spare in more necessary articles, as in their education, and the common household ex pences required in our way of living. Besides, it would be so far from making you happier, that it would be doing you the greatest injury. Sally. How could that be, mamma? Mrs. M. If you were now to be dressed like Miss Pemberton, don't you think you would be greatly mortified at being worse dressed when you came to be a young woman? Sally. I believe I should, mamma ; for then perhaps I might go to assemblies; and to be sure I should like to be as smart then as at any time. Mrs. M. Well, but it would be still more improper for us to dress you then beyond our circumstances, because your necessary clothes will then cost more, you know. Then if we were now to hire a coach or chair for you to go a visiting in, should you like to leave it off ever afterwards? But you have no reason to expect that you will be able to have those indulgences when you are a woman. And so it is in every thing else. The more fine things, and the more gratifications you have now, the more you will require hereafter; for custom makes things so familiar to us, that while we enjoy them less, we want them more. Sally. How is that, mamma? Mrs. M. Why, don't you think you have enjoyed your ride in the coach this evening more than Miss Harriet would have done? Sally. I suppose I have; because if Miss Harriet liked it so well, she would be always riding, for I know she might have the coach whenever she pleased. Mrs. M. But if you were both told that you were never to ride in a coachagain, which would think it the greater hardship? You could walk, you know, as you have always done before; but she would rather stay at home, I be lieve, than expose herself to the cold wind, and trudge through the wet and dirt in pattens. Sally. I believe so too; and now, mamma, I see that ail you have told me is very right. Mrs. M. Well, my dear, let it dwell upon your mind, so as to make you cheerful and contented in your station, which you see is so much happier than that of many and many other children. So now we will talk no more on this subject. THE GOLDFINCH AND LINNET. A GAUDY Goldfinch, pert and gay, Hopping blythe from spray to spray, With head well plumed and burnish'd wing, Spied a sober Linnet hen, Sitting all alone, And bow'd, and chirp'd, and bow'd again : |