Fanny actually spent a great part of every day before her Uncle arrived, in standing at the window, and looking eagerly into every carriage that passed. Mary found something better to do: she knew that her Uncle would examine into the progress which she had made in her studies, since his last visit. She therefore applied herself with more than ordinary diligence to her lessons: and she looked over what she had been learning for some months past. She also thought of many questions, relative to the countries her Uncle had seen, and about which she was now better able to ask questions, than at the time of his last visit.

All the time Fanny spent watching at the window to see her Uncle arrive, was quite thrown away; for, at last, he came late in the evening; after she and her sister were gone to bed.

When they came down stairs the next morning, they saw a pair of boots and a portmanteau, placed at the door of the room which had been prepared for their Uncle, and they would certainly have awoke him by their exclamations, if their Mamma, who happened to come by at the moment, had not beckoned to them to be silent. They hardly had patience to wait till he came down, which was not till some time after the usual breakfast hour.

It would quite fill a book to write all that these little girls said to their Uncle, during the first day of his visit. He staid a week with them: and in this time he had sufficient opportunity to observe their dispositions and tempers. When he went away, he promised that he would write a letter to them as soon as his engagements would permit. Mary and Fanny were delighted with this promise; and waited eagerly, day after day, in expectation of the letter. It was nearly a month, however, before it arrived: and they had began to think that their Uncle had forgotten his promise. At length a parcel was brought, at the corner of which, under the direction, was written, “For M. and F.”—“For M. and F.” cried Fanny; “that is for us, Mary: that is the letter from Uncle Thomas; and something else, too.”

The parcel was quickly untied; when there appeared a letter, and two separate parcels; one directed “For Mary;” the other, “For Fanny.” Before they opened the separate parcels, their Mamma recommended them to read their Uncle’s letter: it was as follows:—

“I am afraid, my dear Mary and Fanny, you have thought I had forgotten my promise; but I assure you I have not forgotten it; though I have been prevented from writing as soon as I had intended: one reason was, that I could not immediately procure some of the books which accompany this letter.

“Perhaps my dear Fanny may think the books of which I beg her acceptance rather odd ones for a little girl. I must therefore explain to her why I made choice of them for her: and in order to do this, I must write rather a long letter, which, however, I hope may give her some useful hints.

“The minds of some children, I must observe, are so dull and inactive, that they seem to have no curiosity: they seldom ask any questions: they take very little notice of what they see or hear; and never learn any more than what they are forced to learn by their Parents and Masters. When such young persons grow up, they generally care about nothing but eating and drinking; and become more and more stupid and selfish every year that they live.

“But this cannot be said of either of my nieces: my dear Mary and Fanny, have both of them very active minds: they are very inquisitive, and very observant of every thing they see or hear. I think I have sometimes passed many months, in which I have not had to reply to half the number of questions that were put to me, in one week, by the two little girls to whom I am now writing.

“It is necessary for me to remark, however, that Mary’s questions were always of a different kind from those of Fanny. Now, in order to explain exactly what I mean, I must observe, that there are two sorts of knowledge with which we may fill our minds; but one sort is much more valuable in itself, and much more beneficial in its effects upon our minds, than the other. The most valuable kind of knowledge is that which consists in being acquainted with all the different sorts of things, that exist in the earth or in the heavens. The other kind of knowledge, consists in being acquainted with those particular things, or persons, that are to be found in the place where we happen to live. Now, for the sake of shewing, by an example, what I mean, I shall suppose there are two persons, whom I will not call Mary and Fanny; but John and George. I will suppose then that these two persons are equally inquisitive; and also, that they spend exactly the same time in gratifying their curiosity.