l,' said Helen; 'I never saw how awful a thing
it is, before; not merely hearing lessons, and punishing naughty
children, I am sure I dread it now; I would have nothing to do with it
if Papa did not wish it, and so make it my duty.'

'Nobody would teach the children at all if they thought like you,
Helen,' said Anne; 'and then what would become of them?'

'People who are not fit often do teach them, and is not that worse than
nothing?' said Helen; 'I should think irreverence and false doctrine
worse than ignorance.'

'Certainly,' said Lady Merton; 'and happy it is, that, as in your case,
Helen, the duty of obedience, or some other equally plain, teaches us
when to take responsibility upon ourselves and when to shrink from it.'

'I must say,' said Anne, 'I cannot recover from hearing Mamma and
Lizzie talk of their "little victims," just in Gray's tone.'

'No,' said Lady Merton; 'I only say,

"If thou wouldst reap in love,
First sow in holy fear."'

CHAPTER XIII.

On Monday morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Elizabeth and
Katherine went to the school to receive the penny-club money, and to
change the lending library books. They were occupied in this manner
for about half an hour; and on their return, Elizabeth went to Mrs.
Woodbourne's dressing-room, to put away the money, and to give her an
account of her transactions. While she was so employed, her father came
into the room with a newspaper in his hand.

'Look here, Mildred,' said he, laying it down on the table before his
wife, 'this is what Walker has just brought me.'

Mrs. Woodbourne glanced at the paragraph he pointed out, and exclaimed,
'O Lizzie! this is a sad thing!'

Elizabeth advanced, she grew giddy with dismay as she read as follows:

'On Friday last, a most interesting and instructive lecture on the Rise
and Progress of the Institution of Chivalry was delivered at the
Mechanics' Institute, in this city, by Augustus Mills, Esq. This young
gentleman, from whose elegant talents and uncommon eloquence we should
augur no ordinary career in whatever profession may be honoured with
his attention, enlarged upon the barbarous manners of the wild
untutored hordes among whom the proud pageantry of pretended faith,
false honour, and affected punctilio, had its rise. He traced it
through its gilded course of blood and carnage, stripped of the
fantastic and delusive mantle which romance delights to fling over its
nati