HOW TO DO THE MOST GOOD.
"You see, Kate, to do real good, one must not mind some trouble; for, you know, my love, it is our duty to detect and prevent error, as much as it is our duty to cherish virtue."—"But, Aunt, when one inquires too closely, one finds out sad faults."—"Right, my dear, and we do good even by that discovery. For, perhaps, we stop the guilty from going on in their course of crime; and that is no small service."—"True, Aunt, and besides that, we save the money of the kind for the good and honest, by keeping it from the bad and artful."
"Of two cases of distress named to us, you know, one was false and the other was true. This should teach us never to relieve want till we are sure of its being true; this should teach us never to pass by a demand without notice; for fear we should thereby doom a fellow-creature to want and sickness, and, it may be, death."
"You have cured the poor man, my dear Aunt, and fed his wife, and clothed his children; but they will soon be in distress again, and you said you could not afford to keep them."—"I cannot afford it, indeed, my child; and I ought not to do it, if I could; for these people can now earn their living, and must not live upon my small poor purse."—"No, because that would prevent your helping any other poor person."—"Right, Kate; so I have been thinking to ask Lord Glenmore to let the man have work in his grounds."—"But you won't like to go and ask such a favour of Lord Glenmore."—"I am not fond of asking favours; but this is more for the poor man than for myself; and shall I not be doing his Lordship a favour, in shewing him how he can do a good act?"—"To be sure you will, and he has a kind heart, and loves to do good. Pray let us go, Aunt; I am sorry Blanche is ill and cannot go with us."—"You and I have been chatting and standing here, Kate, and have almost passed the hour, when our dear sick girl should take her physic. Ruth is with her; go to her, and I will fetch the phial and the cup, and follow you to her chamber." Kate ran off to the room of her sick friend.
BLANCHE LEARNS WISDOM.
"Oh! really I cannot, cannot take this horrid physic, dearest Madam!" cried Blanche, as soon as she saw her kind friend appear with phial and cup. "Fie, Miss!" said Ruth, and she leant on the back of the young lady's chair, and, in a whisper, besought her to behave with more sense and spirit. Kate kindly took her crying friend's hand, and spoke to her with so much mildness and reason: "My best Blanche, you are very ill, you know you are, and you cannot be better till you have taken something to relieve your fever."—"Oh, but that is such nasty vile stuff!"—"Do not call what will ease your pain by such harsh names: are you not in great pain?"—"Yes, yes, my head aches, and I feel sick, and so ill, so very ill."—"And do you really prefer bearing all this, to a minute's bitter taste of physic in your mouth? Why, Blanche, are you so very foolish?" and Kate smiled as she spoke, and held the cup to her friend. Blanche dashed away the cup, and all the physic was spilt. "What have you done, wayward girl?" cried the Aunt; "this was the only dose proper for you in the house,—and we live so far from the town. Ah! when and where shall I get you some more?" At first, Blanche was glad that the physic was spilt; but when she found herself getting worse, she began to wish she could find some cure for her ailments. The kind Aunt sent all round the village, no one could give her the physic she wanted. It was dark, Ruth could not go alone to the town. The poor man, that had been helped and cured, heard Ruth as she passed through the village speak of her young lady's illness, and he begged to go to the town for the physic. He walked as fast as he could, and came back with the dose the very moment he got it. But how did poor Blanche long for his return! Every minute seemed an hour to her; how gladly she took the mixture which before she had scorned. In a very short time, it soothed and eased her; she fell asleep, and awoke almost well: her first words were: "I hope I never again shall be so very, very childish."
BE KIND TO SERVANTS.
The next morning, when the Aunt went into the room, she found Ruth helping the girls to get up, and both of them in high health and spirits. But, as she came in, she thought she heard some harsh words from Kate and Blanche to the maid; and she asked what was the matter? It seems that Ruth had not mended a gown for Blanche, as she had been bid to do, and as she had given her word she would do. Ruth said she was sorry, "but I forgot it, miss." She was about to receive a smart answer, when her mistress mildly bade her put down the gown and go away: as soon as she was gone, "How is this, girls?" said the good Aunt; "so cross to Ruth, who but last night was so good to you?" Blanche blushed, and turned away her head. Kate said, "Ruth always forgets all that is told her."—"That is more her misfortune than her fault. Pray, do you never forget, Kate, that you are so harsh to one who does?" It was now Kate's turn to blush, for she was apt to forget. "But, why was Ruth to mend this frock; surely, Blanche, you are old enough to do it yourself?"—"Yes, ma'am, but it is work I don't like; I don't like darning and mending."—"I dare say, Ruth dislikes it also; servants have their feelings as well as we." Kate and Blanche began to see how selfish and unjust they had been; and their Aunt went on to say—"Pray, who tore this frock?"—"I did, ma'am, two days ago, when I was at play in the garden."—"Indeed! And so what you tore in the midst of your pleasure, Ruth is to sit down and mend, though ever so much against her convenience! Really, this is a new mode of acting fairly and justly!"