CHAPTER VII.

"The heart that feels for others' woes
Shall feel each selfish sorrow less;
His breast who happiness bestows
Reflected happiness shall bless."

ARMINE AND ELVIRA.

THE resolution which Amy had formed the morning her lover sailed, to seek for consolation during his absence in a more active performance of duty, did not pass away with that intense feeling of loss, that sense of utter desolation, which pressed upon her heart at the time she made it, and which happily for us cannot be an enduring state of mind.

Fidelity to duty was no new thing to her; but Amy had made progress in her notions of what duty was. To attend faithfully and with a cheerful spirit to her father's household, to be his companion and friend, as far as the great dissimilarity of their characters allowed, to promote the interest and welfare as far as she could of every individual of the

house, all this was so natural and easy, that it no longer required an effort; neither did she neglect her duties to herself, to her own mind; but Edward's example had kindled in her heart a higher ambition than she had ever before felt. There was stirring in Amy's soul, that feeling of discontent, which is ever the first motion towards the attainment of a higher degree of excellence than we have yet reached. She had hitherto been in the habit of giving a portion of the money she had at her own disposal, to those who had the care of the poor, to be employed by them for their benefit. She now resolved to be her own almoner, and to exercise that higher charity which bids us give our time, our thoughts, our active sympathy to the poor. Amy soon found that this kept in exercise all the best faculties of her mind, and called upon her for continual sacrifices. She was obliged to practise the strictest economy both of time and money, in order not to neglect any of her duties at home, and to have enough to give to the needy. In order to be a good adviser to the poor, she was obliged to think of all their circumstances and relative duties and rights. Religion became to her mind a more deep, and intense, and affecting

reality than it had ever before been, when she was called upon to give consolation to those who, in the depths of human misery, and bereft of all outward comforts, had lost their faith, and cried out in the agony of their souls "Where now is my hope?" All this called upon Amy for constant and strenuous effort she was often wearied, but never discouraged; disappointed, but not disheartened. She made mistakes, but she was patient with herself as she was with others, and even from her errors extracted useful lessons; and she never allowed any difficulty or failure to disturb her faith or her good humor.

Mr. Weston had noticed that Amy was less interested than she had ever before been in parties and amusements; but he attributed it to Edward's absence. She soon had an opportunity of ascertaining how little sympathy or aid she might expect from him in her present pursuits.

"Father," she said one morning at breakfast, "I want your assistance in a little plan that I have much at heart."

"What is it, my daughter?"

"I know of a number of poor women, who cannot go out to labor for the support of their families, because they cannot leave their

children; now I want to find a competent person, who will take the charge of these little children for a few hours of every day, instruct them and make them happy. In order that the teacher of this infant school should be well paid, my funds must be considerably enlarged; and if you think it proper, I would like to have some aid from you, father."

"I have great doubts about such institutions, Amy."

"What are your objections, father?"

"In the first place, I much doubt the expediency of teaching the poor; it makes them discontented."

"But, father, most of them are babies, what they learn cannot harm them, if knowledge were ever so dangerous; the principal object is to enable their mothers to work for their support. You know not, dear father, what the poor suffer; I have been among them, and I know what they endure."

"Let me tell you, Amy, that I do not approve of your going among the poor; you are in danger of taking some disease; it is not a proper employment for a young lady in your station of life, and with your prospects. This duty, if it be one, should be left to those who are nearer their own level."