tance of deportment, very different from what he affumed to either of her parents. Mrs. Barnet obferved fomething of her daughter's haughty manner, and the effect it had on him, although both the young lady and the boy endeavoured to conceal them from her. Being concerned at this, on her daughter's account, fhe spoke to her on the fubject, and ended her remonfrance by obferving, that he would give an ill impreffion of her own difpofition, by behaving in fuch a manner to anybody, but particularly to one of fo amiable a character as Edward. This reproof feemed to increase the girl's ill will toward him, which broke out in the manner that will appear in the next chapter. MRS. BARNET had receŸyed a prefent of a beautiful piece of china, which she valued above its real worth, on account of the perfon who gave it. It was placed with other pieces of china on a chimney-piece in the drawing-room; and Mrs. Barnet often gave directions, particularly to her daughter, that it fhould not be removed from its place. One forenoon during the fummer vacation, Edward fat in this room reading, when mifs Barnet entered with mifs Fuller, another young lady, to whom she wished to fhew this fine piece of china. Unmindful of her mother's injunction, I will bring it to the window,' faid mifs Barnet to her companion, and then you will fee it better.' Pray, mifs Louifa, be careful not to let it fall,' faid Edward; for you know it would make your mamma fo uneafy.' That is no bufinefs of yours,' faid mifs Barnet, tartly; and at the fame inftant the feized the china with fuch quickness and fo little caution, that it flipt from her fingers and was broken to pieces on the Ecarth. They all food for fome tinie in fi lent aftonishment; but she who had occafioned the misfortune was the first who recovered her prefence of mind. Were we all to cry our eyes out, faid mifs Barnet, it would not mend the vafe; but I have thought of what will fave us from blame.' She immediately ran out of the room, and returning a few minutes after with a cat in her arms; Be gone into the garden,' faid the to the young lady and Edward; then throwing the cat on the floor, fhe shut the door of the room, and followed them into the garden. Now,' cried mifs Barnet, ready to burft with laughter, my mother will think her favourite cat has broken the vafe-and, if the fhould make any farther inquiry, you have only to declare, as I thall do,' added fhe, looking at Edward, that you know nothing at all of the mat confcious that we are incapable of worthy of her efteem than he had falfehood.' formerly imagined. At this remark, mifs Barnet's face became of the deepest scarlet. When Mrs. Barnet returned to the drawing room, the faw her favourite vafe lying in pieces on the hearth. The cat rufhed out as foon as the door was opened; but as Mrs. Barnet had left Edward reading in the room, and was certain that no cat was there when she left it, she could not avoid fufpecting that he had accidentally broken the vafe, and had afterward fhut up the cat in the room to prevent the fufpicion from falling on himself. This betrayed a degree of cunning which she did not like, and of which The had never before seen any inftance in him. She was fenfible that to fome people a trick of that kind would appear only a proof of cleverness in a boy of his age; but fhe had hitherto confidered 'him as fuperior to a device of this nature; and the felt, that if it were clear that he had ftooped to ufe it, fhe never would be able to efteem and love him as fhe had done. And fo painful is it to a benevolent mind, to have favourable impreffions of any one removed, and to receive unfavourable ones in their place, that Mrs. Barnet would much rather have loft the value of a hundred fuch vafes, than have had her good opinion of this poor boy thus diminished. She gathered up the fragments of the vafe, and locked them in her cupboard, without making any inquiry. At dinner the remarked that Edward was graver and more penfive than ufual, which increased her fufpicions. She faid nothing all that day, in the hopes that he would fpontaneously acknowledge what he had done.-She contrived opportunities of being alone with him, and behaved in the most affectionate manner; addreffing him even with more franknefs and affability than ufual, on purpose to smooth the way to the avowal which the fo much defired; and at night the retired to her bed-chamber chagrined because he had not made it, and vexed at thinking this poor friendless boy lefs Next day being alone with him, fhe faid, a little unexpectedly, Pray, Ned, do you know any thing of the breaking of the vafe which itood on the drawing room chimney?' Unwilling to tell what he knew, and confufed with, the queftion, he made no answer. His uneafinefs and confufion confirmed her fufpicions. When I left you reading in the room the vafe was whole, was it not?' faid fhe. Accidentally breaking a piece of china,' continued Mrs. Barnet, is a trifle; the means which feem to have been used to conceal it, I view in a different light, and it gives me pain to think that those I love are capable of artifices which betray cunning at the expence of candour.' Edward wiped the tears, from his eyes, but faid nothing. I thought you too wife and manly to be cunning,' continued Mrs. Barnet. The boy feemed much diftreffed. Perhaps, refumed Mrs. Barnet; you wish to give fome explanation of this matter.' I can give no explanation,' faid he, in a voice half fuppreffed with anguifh;but-but-Oh! I am very unhappy.' 6 Nay, my dear,' faid Mrs. Barnet, moved by the diftrefs in which fhe faw the boy; there is no need to be very unhappy; it was natural for you to imagine I fhould be uneasy at the lofs of the vafe, and you could not bear, I fuppofe, to be thought the caufe of my uneasinefs.I am fure fuch a thought would give you pain.' Indeed it would,' faid he, in a voice hardly articulate. When fuch an accident happens again, believe me, my dear, your beft courfe will be to avow it honeftly, without racking your invention for devices to conceal it.' Having faid this, Mrs. Barnet left him in more uneafinefs of mind than he had ever felt before. Notwithstanding the palliating terms fhe had made ufe of, Edward faw that Mrs. Barnet was much difpleafed ; and it coft him a fevere ftruggle to bear the idea of her difpleasure; but when he reflected that he could not do himself justice without accufing the daughter of his benefactress, and conveying to the mother's breaft more vexation than fhe felt in thinking him blame-worthy, he determed to remain filent, and actually returned to fchool without giving the leaft hint on the fubject. MISS BARNET remained a month with her parents after Edward left them; her refentment against him increased, he had made her look mean in her own eyes. She felt therefore a difagreeable fenfation as often as his name was mentioned. When this is the cafe, few have the candour to confider whether it originates in any fault of their own, or of the perfon at the mention of whofe name the difagreeable feeling recurs-perhaps mifs Barnet was incapable, ccolly and confiderately, of doing an effential injury to this boy; but the painful fenfation which he felt when the thought of him, made her without defign fpeak of him fometimes in an injurious ftile, and at one time in the hearing of her mother. Mrs. Barnet hinted at the unfairness of taking advantage of his abfence to infinuate any thing to his prejudice; adding, that Edward was incapable of fpeaking against people in their abfence. What is nearly as bad, however,' replied the daughter; he is capable of fpeaking with infolence and injuftice to people in their prefence.' Edward is as in capable of the one as the other,' faid Mrs. Barnet. 'He told me the other day, in pretty plain terms, that I was a liar,' faid the daughter. Mifs Barnet gueffing by her mother's look that he did not believe her, faid, Mifs Fuller was prefent when he did fo.' Some vifitors being at the inftant announced, the dialogue between the mother and daughter ended. Although Mrs. Barnet did not immediately refume the fubject of this converfation with her daughter, fhe refolved to investigate the truth of the accufation; and for that purpose, after making a vifit to a family in the neighbourhood, fhe called one forenoon on mifs Fuller, who had returned to her father's house, and asked whether he had ever heard Edward fay any thing unbecoming to Louifa. The young lady declared the never had. He may have been provoked to it,' refumed Mrs. Barnet, but I have reason to think he behaved with fome degree of infolence in your prefence.' Mifs Fuller now recollected what had paffed when the vase was broken, and related the whole candidly as it had paffed. Mrs. Barnet's mind was now divided between admiration of Edward's conduct and uneafinefs on account of her daughter's; but, eager to remove from the heart of Edward that pain which her mistaken notion of his conduct had produced, fhe gave way, in the first place, to the moft pleafing emotion of the two, and immediately after arriving at her own houfe, fhe wrote to him as follows: of the affair to which you must know I now allude; the whole of your behaviour, on that occafion, and your motives for not explaining it to me, are now evident, and render you dearer to me than ever. From the pleasure you now feel you will be confirmed in the truth of what. I have often told you, that the approbation of a perfon's own mind is the first reward for acting honourably; and future experience will convince you, that fuch conduct, to ufe the words of a man of great wit and great good fenfe, This letter operated like a cordial on the drooping fpirits of Edward, who had begun feveral letters containing general affurances of his not being fo much to blame as fhe might be lieve; but ftill dreading that they might lead to a discovery of mifs Barnet's behaviour, which he knew would give vexation to her mother, he ended by throwing each letter in the fire. After Mrs. Barnet had gratified her natural difpofition to redress an injury, and communicate pleasure by writing to Edward, fhe remembered that the painful duty of remonftrating with her daughter remained unfulfilled. Afraid, however, of the effect which flating her conduct in the heinous light which it appeared to herself might have on the young lady's mind, the fpoke to her in the following terms: 1 find, my dear, that you entirely miftook what Edward faid, when you defired him to conceal from me the accident by which the vafe was broken. It was not unnatural, however, in you, to be provoked with any expreffion that could poffibly be conftrued into fo foul a reproach as that of lying. The misapprehenfion of a fentence has often led people of the beft difpofitions. and intentions into error; for, on a very narrow bafis of mistake, a vast, ftructure of falsehood may be raised to the ruin of the most meritorious character. The quickness of your temper, my dear Louifa, led you into an error, in repeating to me what Edward faid, which might have made an impreffion highly injurious to his character, had it not been prevented by my obtaining a real state of what paffed from your friend mifs Fuller, who is fo partial to you as to take the whole blame of breaking the vase on herself, declaring that it proceeded from her impatient curiofity to fee it, and your eagerness to gratify her. The lofs of the vafe, however, gives me little or no uneafinefs; but had it given me a great deal, it would have been entirely difperfed by the fatisfaction of finding that Edward has not behaved in the manner that ftruck you, and that you are incapable of wilful mifreprefentation.' Had Mrs. Barnet ftated her daughter's conduct in the worft light, the young lady was of a temper to have attempted a juftification; and what we once are led, or provoked to justify, we are apt to repeat: whereas, inftead of attempting any defence or apology, mifs Barnet was fo much affected with the delicacy of her mother's remonftrance, that she flood fpeechlefs, with her eyes fixed on the ground, which Mrs. Barnet obferving, gently fqueezed her hand and left the room. Mifs Barnet was no fooner alone than she burst into tears, and continued weeping for a confiderable time. Her heart informed her, that her conduct did not deferve the palliations it had received; and although nothing pleafed her fo much, in general, as her mother's praife, yet, on the prefent occafion, it rather diftreffed her, because fhe was confcious fhe did not deserve it. OBSERVATIONS on MONARCHIES in general, and the late Monarchy and prefent Government of France, in particular. IT is [From Mr. Burke's Two Letters to a Member of Parliament. ] T is often impoffible, in our political enquiries, to find any proportion between the apparent force of any moral caufes we may affign, and their known operation. We are therefore obliged to deliver up that operation to mere chance, or more pioufly (perhaps more rationally) to the occafional interpofition and irrefiftible hand of the great difpofer. We have feen ftates of confiderable duration, which for ages have remained nearly as they have begun, and could hardly be faid to ebb and flow. Some appear to have spent their vigour at their commencement. Some have blazed out in their glory a little before their extinction. The meridian of fome has been the most splendid. Others, and they the greatest number, have fluctuated, and experienced at different periods of their exiflence a great variety of fortune. At the very moment when some of them feemed plunged in unfathomable abyffes of difgrace and difafter, they have fuddenly emerged. They have begun a new courfe and opened a new reckoning; and even in the depths of their calamity, and on the very ruins of their country, have laid the foundations of a towering and durable greatnefs. All this has happened without any apparent previous change in the general circumftances which had brought on their diftrefs. The death of a man at a critical juncture, his difguft, his retreat, his difgrace, have brought innumerable calamities on a whole nation. A common foldier, a child, a girl at the door of an inn, have changed the face of fortune, and almoft of nature. Such, and often influenced by fuch causes, has commonly been the fate of monarchies of long duration. They have their ebbs and their flows. This has been eminently the fate of the monarchy of France. There have been times in which no power has ever been brought fo low. Few have ever flourished in greater glory. By turns elevated and depreffed, that power had been, on the whole, rather on the encreafe; and it continued not only powerful but formidable to the hour of the total ruin of the monarchy. This fall of the monarchy was far from being preceded by any exterior fymptoms of decline. The interior were not vifible to every eye; and a thoufand accidents might have prevented the operation of what the most clear-fighted were not able to discern, nor the most provident to divine. A very little time before its dreadful cataftrophe, there was a kind of exterior fplendour in the fituation of the crown, which usually adds to government ftrength and authority at home. The crown feemed then to have obtained fome of the most splendid objects of ftate ambition. None of the continental powers of Europe were the enemies of France. They were all, either tacitly difpofed to her, or publicly connected with her; and in those who kept the most aloof, there was little appearance of jealousy; of animofity there was no appearance at all. The British nation, her great preponderating rival, fhe had humbled; to all appearance fhe had weakened ; certainly had endangered, by cutting off a very large, and by far the molt growing part of her empire. In that its acme of human profperity and greatness, in the high and palmy state of the monarchy of France, it fell to the ground without a ftruggle. It fell without any of thofe vices in the monarch, which have fometimes been the caufes of the fall of kingdoms, but which exifted, without any visible effect on the state, in the higheft degree in many other princes; and, far |