applying to my aunts, they could inerely answer that they had never been taught French; and when I asked a young lady, who was said to speak the language very correctly, what was the meaning of a verb? she replied, that "a verb was a verb, and that every body must learn verbs.”

With my translation I was no less puzzled; frequently the word wanted, was not to be found in the dictionary; and when my master told me, that having discovered the root, I must search for the tense in my grammar, having no idea whatever of the rationale of language, I could not comprehend his meaning. If it had once been suggested to me, that in every cultivated language, terms from the same root must vary, in order to give precision as they relate to number, time, and place; and that by classing these several variations under general heads, however puzzling it might appear to a beginner, the process of learning a foreign language, would eventually be rendered more simple and easy,-how different would have been the progress I should have made! It was not till long after, and the result of much labour and study, that I made the grand discovery; and I find it carefully noted in an old memorandum-book, for the use of myself and of all who should succeed me, that "a verb is a part of speech, not peculiar to the French, but common to all languages."

In learning the first rules of arithmetic, I had not the same difficulty; and after having advanced successfully to the Rule of three, I had great pleasure in finding the solution of a few simple

problems set me by my master; and triumphed not a little in finding out the method of working one of these, which he told me when he went away, he would give me his head if I discovered. He was employed in teaching many young ladies the use of the globes; and most earnestly did I wish that I might have been added to the favoured number, but the thing was impracticable; I was soon to return home, and in a country village there were no masters.

CHAPTER 7.

Misfortune of the want of intellectual improvement....Opinion of the Author's near relatives....Style of conversation at the usual routine of town afternoon visits....The Author's regret in having little confidential intercourse with her father. ....His declining health.

BEING now arrived at an age, when the mind, no longer wholly engrossed by the trifling occupations of childhood, begins to expand its untried powers, and if not cultivated or usefully employed, is in danger of being over-run with noxious weeds, I suffered considerably both from the misleading conversation of some of my young companions, and from the total want of some well-directed, improving, and interesting pursuit. The various kinds of needle-work, in which I was a tolerable proficient, were not enough to occupy my mind. Often did I form magnificent, but mistaken and very imperfect conceptions of the grand, the beautiful, and the sublime-of

some unexplored felicity in the airy regions of sentiment and taste, which I neither knew how to describe, to appreciate, or to obtain. I particularly remember that walking alone one summer's evening, on the banks of a neighbouring river, regretting exceedingly that my time was running to waste, indescribable sensations were excited, on hearing the distant sound of a ring of bells, reverberated from the opposite shore! On my return home, I wrote a letter to one of my young companions, relating the circumstance, and endeavouring to explain the effects it produced on my mind, by telling her, that the sound of the distant bells reminded me of the decay of seasons. How important to me would have been at this time, a sensible, judicious, and well-informed female friend! Mrs. Chapone, in her excellent letters on the "Improvement of the Mind," strongly recommends the selection of such a friend to her niece, but she does not tell her, where such a friend is to be met with; most certainly I was not so fortunate.

My worthy aunts, whom I frequently visited, had a great horror of what they called learned ladies, and alarmed by seeing me sometimes take up the Gentleman's Magazine, or the Monthly Review, were continually warning me against spending my time in reading.—"They never knew it," they said, "come to any good;" and they instanced one young lady in particular, with whom they had been acquainted, who taught herself philosophy and Italian, until she lost her senses, and was obliged to be confined in a mad-house. It was not

my habit on these occasions, to make any reply, for I knew it would not answer any other pur pose, than that of prolonging the well-intended, though not very convincing lecture; which, without any such provocation, was usually delivered by one, and then re-echoed by the other, for a very considerable length of time. Unfortunately, however, what I saw of their character and pursuits, far from changing my opinion respecting the desirableness of some degree of mental cultivation, served only to strengthen and confirm it. They had a numerous acquaintance at York, among elderly ladies like themselves, to whom almost every afternoon was devoted, and to whom I had the honour of being introduced; it being, as they observed, "such an improvement to young people, to see a little genteel company."-The conversation usually turned on the anecdotes of the town; what families were coming for the winter ;—where they had taken lodgings; what their stile of living;-to whom they were introduced;-and if they were likely to be generally visited? All this I did not feel very interesting; and I remember how forcibly I was struck with the following lines, in a volume of the Spectator that I had borrowed, and which I sat up to copy by the kitchen-fire, after my aunts had retired to rest, bedewing the paper with many tears.

"How slow th' unprofitable moments roll
"That lock up all the functions of my soul!
"That keep me from myself, and still delay

Life's instant business to a future day;

"That task, which as we follow or despise,
The oldest is a fool, the youngest, wise;
"Which done, the poorest can no wants endure,
"And which not done, the richest must be poor.”

The feeling however which occasioned my tears, was not that of pure sorrow. There was mixed with it a certain elevation of sentiment, which gave it a peculiar charm, and induced a train of thought, confused indeed and indefinite, yet far more soothing to the mind than most of those pursuits, which are commonly classed under the head of pleasure.

I cannot but regret exceedingly, that during this period, I had so little confidential intercourse with my father; an intercourse, from which he would probably have derived some pleasure, and which to me would have been productive of the greatest advantage. Many circumstances contributed to prevent such an intercourse, some of which I go on to relate; hoping they may supply hints for the conduct of others in similar situations.

My father's manner, as I have already intimated, was generally reserved and distant, from principle. Far from recommending or pointing out to me any little plan of mental cultivation, he frequently insinuated incidentally in conversation, that domestic occupations and household duties, were the proper province of women. This indeed I was ready to admit, but I would have added, if I could have taken courage, "Surely not exclusively." Once or twice I recollect his being highly pleased with a remark I had made