Jessie was on the right track, in attributing the difference between her memory and that of Abby to a will and a wont. She might have carried the comparison still farther, and something like the following, I think, would have been the result:

THE GOOD AND THE POOR SCHOLAR.
JESSIE. ABBY.
Her motto is, Learn all you can. Her motto is, Get through as easily as possible.
She makes sacrifices to obtain an education, and fully appreciates the privileges she enjoys. Her privileges are themselves a burden and a hardship, and she longs to get rid of them.
She thinks much of the future benefit to be derived from her studies. She cares far less about future good than present ease.
She makes it a rule to thoroughly master every task allotted to her, and to understand what she learns. She thoroughly masters nothing, and is satisfied if she can repeat the words of a lesson, without troubling herself about ideas.
She diligently improves her time. She wastes many precious hours.
She concentrates her mind upon her studies. Her mind is seldom earnestly fixed on her studies.
Result.—Her lessons are perfect. Result.—Her lessons are failures.

It was by a diligent improvement of her time, and a concentration of her mind on her studies, that Jessie mainly owed her high standing in the academy. When she studied, she studied in earnest. It is no easy thing to fix the mind attentively upon one subject, and exclude every thing else. Martin Luther says: “Let any one try how long he can rest on one idea he proposed himself, or take one hour and avow that he will tell me all his thoughts. I am sure he will be ashamed before himself, and afraid to say what ideas have passed through the head, lest he should be taken for a mad dog, and be chained.” And to illustrate this, he relates an anecdote of St. Bernard, who once complained to a friend that he found it very difficult to pray aright, and could not even pronounce the Lord’s prayer once without a host of strange thoughts. His friend was astonished, and gave it as his opinion that he could fix his thoughts on his prayer without any difficulty. Bernard offered him the wager of a fine horse, on condition he should commence forthwith. The friend commenced, “Our Father,” etc., but before he had finished the first petition, it occurred to him, if he should gain the horse, whether he would also receive saddle and bridle. In short, he was so entangled in his own thoughts, that he had to quit, and give up the prize.

It should be added, that this difficulty, which every student encounters, can in a great measure be overcome, by early culture and discipline. The best scholars are those who can control and direct their thoughts, and keep them fixed upon a subject as long as they please. The extent to which this power may be acquired is wonderful. There is a school in New England in which many of the pupils have accomplished the feat of multiplying nine figures by nine figures, mentally, or “in the head;” and the teacher thinks any child of ordinary capacity can learn to do this.

Some of the scholars wondered that two girls so little alike as Jessie and Abby, should be such good friends as they seemed to be. The intimacy, however, appeared greater than it really was, because Abby, by her upstart ways and her bad temper, had alienated nearly all the other girls, and had no bosom friends among them. Jessie’s forbearance and kindness had won her affection, and the poor drunkard’s daughter, whom she at first treated with contempt, and then regarded with a patronizing air, she now looked upon as her superior, whose friendship was to be prized. On the part of Jessie, it is true, there was no particular partiality for Abby. There was little, either in the manners or the character of the young scion of aristocracy, that was attractive, and if Jessie had not been guided by the golden rule, and influenced by a kindly heart, her intercourse with Abby would have been very slight.

Abby was a great novel reader. She eagerly devoured everything in the shape of fiction that she could lay her hands on. In fact, her reading was wholly confined to this class of books. She would often read an entire novel in one or two days, neglecting everything else, except attendance at school, until it was finished. This habit interfered so much with her studies, and was so manifestly injuring both her mind and heart, that Mr. Upton tried to induce her to break it up. He told her that her devotion to novels would destroy her taste for useful reading and study; would give her false views of life; would weaken her intellect, deaden her sympathy for real sorrow, and harden her heart; would corrupt her principles, and break down the distinction in her mind between vice and virtue, shame and glory; and would disincline and unfit her for the duties of actual life. All his arguments and warnings, however, were of no avail. The spell was already so strongly upon her, that she could not, or would not, break from it, and her exploits, in the way of novel-reading, were limited only by the somewhat meagre supply which that small town afforded. She occasionally tried to tempt Jessie to read one of her favorite tales, but never succeeded. Jessie had no time to waste over such books, even had not her principles and inclination stood in the way of novel-reading.

CHAPTER XII.
A FEW BUSINESS MATTERS.

“Jessie’s a first-rate hand to drive a bargain—you ought to have heard her beat Mr. Simpson down, this afternoon,” said Oscar, at the tea-table, one evening.

“I didn’t beat him down, nor ask him to take one cent less—he put his price down of his own accord,” replied Jessie.

“Oh yes, that’s the beauty of it,” retorted Oscar. “She didn’t say hardly anything, but she acted it out completely, and she got the dress for her own price. I call that the perfection of beating down. I’m going to get you to make my purchases, hereafter, Jessie; for you know folks say I’m extravagant when I buy anything.”