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I see it in the wan cheek, sunk eye, and air of chagrin, which ever

mark the children of dissipation. Pleasure is a vain illusion;



she draws you on to a thousand follies, errors, and I may say vices,

and then leaves you to deplore your thoughtless credulity.



Look, my dear friends, at yonder lovely Virgin, arrayed in a white

robe devoid of ornament; behold the meekness of her countenance,



the modesty of her gait; her handmaids are Humility, Filial Piety,

Conjugal Affection, Industry, and Benevolence; her name is CONTENT;



she holds in her hand the cup of true felicity, and when once you

have formed an intimateacquaintance with these her attendants,



nay you must admit them as your bosom friends and chief counsellors,

then, whatever may be your situation in life, the meek eyed Virgin



wig immediately take up her abode with you.

Is poverty your portion?--she will lighten your labours, preside at



your frugal board, and watch your quiet slumbers.

Is your state mediocrity?--she will heighten every blessing you enjoy,



by informing you how grateful you should be to that bountiful

Providence who might have placed you in the most abject situation;



and, by teaching you to weigh your blessings against your deserts,

show you how much more you receive than you have a right to expect.



Are you possessed of affluence?--what an inexhaustible fund

of happiness will she lay before you! To relieve the distressed,



redress the injured, in short, to perform all the good works

of peace and mercy.



Content, my dear friends, will blunt even the arrows of adversity,

so that they cannot materially harm you. She will dwell



in the humblest cottage; she will attend you even to a prison.

Her parent is Religion; her sisters, Patience and Hope.



She will pass with you through life, smoothing the rough paths and tread

to earth those thorns which every one must meet with as they journey



onward to the appointed goal. She will soften the pains of sickness,

continue with you even in the cold gloomy hour of death, and,



cheating you with the smiles of her heaven-born sister, Hope, lead you

triumphant to a blissfull eternity.



I confess I have rambled strangely from my story: but what of

that? if I have been so lucky as to find the road to happiness,



why should I be such a niggard as to omit so good an opportunity

of pointing out the way to others. The very basis of true peace



of mind is a benevolent wish to see all the world as happy

as one's Self; and from my soul do I pity the selfish churl,



who, remembering the little bickerings of anger, envy, and fifty

other disagreeables to which frail mortality is subject, would wish



to revenge the affront which pride whispers him he has received.

For my own part, I can safely declare, there is not a human being



in the universe, whose prosperity I should not rejoice in, and to whose

happiness I would not contribute to the utmost limit of my power:



and may my offences be no more remembered in the day of general

retribution, than as from my soul I forgive every offence or injury



received from a fellow creature.

Merciful heaven! who would exchange the rapture of such a reflexion



for all the gaudy tinsel which the world calls pleasure!

But to return.--Content dwelt in Mrs. Temple's bosom, and spread



a charming animation over her countenance, as her husband led her in,

to lay the plan she had formed (for the celebration of Charlotte's



birth day,) before Mr. Eldridge.

CHAPTER IX.



WE KNOW NOT WHAT A DAY

MAY BRING FORTH.



VARIOUS were the sensations which agitated the mind of Charlotte,

during the day preceding the evening in which she was to



meet Montraville. Several times did she almost resolve to go

to her governess, show her the letter, and be guided by her advice:






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