hill to him, and walked back towards the castle in high displeasure.

Augusta and Frederick looked after him for some minutes. At length, Frederick said, "Call him back, Augusta, pray do: don't make him unhappy. I know his is the prettiest house."

"No, I will not," said the little girl. "If he chooses to be angry, I can't help it: but I won't live with him." "And why ?" said Frederick.

"Because I don't like him," replied the young lady. "But you ought to love every body," said Frederick. "What, when I can't?" said Augusta.

"But you promised to live with the person who had the prettiest house, and indeed Robert's is the prettiest." "Well, I don't care," returned Augusta, "I won't live with him: but I will run after him, and call him back to play."

She did so: but he refused to come back, and retained his ill-humour for some days, manifesting it by great coldness towards his little playfellows.

While the impression produced by this circumstance yet remained on the mind of Robert, the little boys returned to Mr. Lambert's villa, where Frederick was suddenly attacked with a violent cold and cough, and an inflammation on the chest, which in a short time reduced him to such a state of weakness, that his uncle and Mr. Day expected nothing less than his speedy death. During this illness, the little patient discovered so much gentleness, and such an entire acquiescence in the will of his heavenly Father, with such perfect confidence in the love of his Redeemer, that he rendered himself more and more dear to his excellent tutor; and his uncle, who considered him as an ornament to his family, and who really loved him for his gentle and amiable deportment, was very uneasy, and laid aside in some degree his usual formal observances when standing by the bed of the drooping boy.

On this occasion, Robert, however, showed a degree of inveteracy against Frederick, which grieved and distressed his tutor, particularly as the little boy could so well account for this dislike to his inoffensive cousin: for

nothing, perhaps, is more irritating to the human mind, than constantly to be called into competition and brought under comparison with any individual, and to find oneself continually losing by being thus compared. It seems that, notwithstanding the gentleness of Frederick, and the counteracting influence of Mr. Day, poor Robert had suffered more severely from this cause than his tutor had supposed; insomuch, that he one day said to his valet, "How is Frederick to-day? I really wish he may not recover. But do not tell my tutor what I say."

Mr. Day, however, was informed of this speech of Robert's, and took occasion to speak very seriously to him on the subject. But first he went with him into Frederick's chamber, and made him look at his little cousin, extended on his bed, pale and emaciated, and his lovely face resting on his pillow. He made him touch his burning hand, and observe the labour with which he drew his breath. Then leading him out of the room, he pointed out to him the sinfulness and selfishness of his conduct, in wishing that his poor little companion might actually expire under his present sufferings, in order that he himself might be relieved from an object of envy and jealousy. The good man then took occasion to point out the natural depravity, and even murderous dispositions, of the human heart, and the need we have of an entire change of nature, in order to render us fit for the society of angels.

Robert wept when his offences against his cousin were thus solemnly, laid before him, and apologized for his bad conduct, by saying how perpetually irritated and hurt he felt by the continued comparisons which were made between him and Frederick. "I am sure," added he, "that my Father loves him more than he does me and Augusta, too, she does the same."

Here poor Robert burst afresh into a flood of tears; and Mr. Day, seeing him much softened, said, "My dear boy, even supposing what you say of your father and lady Augusta to be true, why is Frederick to be blamed? Have you ever seen any thing in him but the utmost kindness, gentleness, and affection? Is he to be condemned for what others think of him and feel for him? Ought you to hate him, Robert, because he is amiable ?"

"Oh! Mr. Day! Mr. Day!" replied Robert, in an agony of grief, "I am very wicked; I know I am. May God change my heart!"

"Go, my boy, then," said Mr. Day, "go, and pray for a new heart. Call on Him who is never deaf to those who apply to him in sincerity."

Poor Robert withdrew to his room, and prayed earnestly after which, he came to his tutor with an altered countenance, and begged to be permitted to wait on his sick cousin; which office he performed for many days with a tenderness which did him honour, and which proved to Mr. Day that his feelings towards his little companion were entirely changed: and, notwithstanding the presents of fruit which came every day from lady Augusta, who was inconsolable while her little companion was thought to be in danger, no new feelings of jealousy seemed again to arise in the breast of Robert.

Many weeks had elapsed before Frederick Falconer recovered his health and strength; but Mr. Day was extremely glad to see, that, during the time of his recovery, Robert remained perfectly calm, and, indeed, was beginning to lose some of his awkard ways: for, as the little boys were, during this time, much in their own rooms, and took their meals apart, young Lambert was spared the frequent comments of his parent on his want of elegance, which never failed to create either awkwardness and embarrassment in the little boy, or a fit of obstinacy equally unfavourable to his appearance as a finished gentleman. Nevertheless, when health was again restored to his family, Mr. Lambert recommenced that kind of injudicious conduct by which he had formerly excited the irritation of his son. "Frederick looks better than ever since his illness," said Mr. Lambert, one day, to the viscountess. "What would I give, if this dull boy of mine had half young Falconer's gentility of carriage!"

66 Why then do you not try what a dancing-master would do for your son ?" replied lady V

"A very good thought, lady V-," said Mr. Lambert: "and I hope, Robert," added he, turning to the boy, "that you will be attentive to the instructions of your dancing-master; for I shall procure one for you imme

diately; though I certainly entertain some fears that you will prove to be little better than a dancing-bear."

Robert looked sullen, and all his old feelings seemed again to revive. The viscountess observed his change of countenance; and, therefore, in order to restore his good humour, she promised him a ball at Clifton Castle as soon as he was able to lead down a country dance.

Robert had heard balls spoken of by his father as very delightful amusements; so that he, consequently, hastened to his tutor to tell him what had passed.

Mr. Day could have wished that pleasures of this kind might not be held forth to his pupils; but this excellent man filled a situation in which, not having the power of acting as he would with regard to them, he was compelled, in order to their good, to do the best which circumstances would admit. He therefore made light of the ball, saying, that he considered it an amusement which he thought Robert would not much like; at the same time, he pointed out to the boy that it would be his duty to submit to learn to dance, if his father required it, and to pay attention to his lessons.

The dancing-master was sent for, notwithstanding some private expostulations of Mr. Day: and, as Mr. Lambert insisted upon being present at Robert's lessons, they afforded one continued subject of dispute between the father and son; Robert becoming sullen, and Mr. Lambert constantly carrying on the comparison of the bear, by which he every day assimilated the manners of his son more and more nearly to those of the ungraceful animal in question.

It appeared likely to be long before Robert would be able to claim lady V- -'s promise of the ball; and, indeed, he had taken such a dislike to dancing, and to whatever had any connexion with it, that when lady V declared her intention of giving a ball on the arrival of Master Lambert's birth-day, which happened in the Christmas holidays, when he would enter upon his thirteenth year, he received the information with dismay, and even ventured to ask his father to excuse his presence on the occasion.

Mr. Lambert elevated his eyebrows, and shrugged his shoulders, with an air of the most lively astonishment,

when he heard this request of his son. He expressed amazement at his peculiar taste, his extraordinary whims, and his singular fancies. "Robert Lambert," he said, "you will never be like other people: I have always predicted it, and I am now convinced that my predictions will be true. However, Robert, I shall not indulge you in this whim: you will, if you please, go to the ball; and I hope you will there behave like a gentleman."

Robert was extremely sulky from that day till the one fixed for the proposed amusement, and seemed determined to fulfil his father's predictions. He quarrelled with Frederick, was inattentive to his tutor, and absolutely impertinent to his father.

When Mr. Day expostulated with him on the roughness of his manners, he replied, "My father says I am a bear, and an oddity, and unlike a gentleman. How then am I to behave like any other person?"

The great day of the ball at length arrived, and Robert and Frederick were dressed with the utmost care, and required to accompany Mr. Lambert to Clifton Castle.

On this occasion, however, poor Robert disgraced himself dreadfully in the eyes of his father. He could not be persuaded to walk across the room, and make a low bow, and ask lady Augusta, in form, to dance; though, had he been left to himself, he would have done it in his own way, and in a manner much more befitting a boy of twelve years of age. In consequence of this, his father became very angry; and such a violent fit of sullenness took possession of Master Lambert, that he could not recover himself all the evening, and therefore acted his part of the bear to a degree of perfection which almost did credit to his father's discernment in suggesting the simile.

In the mean time, little Frederick, who had none of poor Robert's difficulties to encounter, and who was not allowed to dance on account of his health, made his way with an ease and simplicity which pleased every one; and lady Augusta said more than once to him, during the evening, "I wish you might but dance, Frederick; I should so like you for my partner."