the world, and for what purpose, and to
learn that their happiness consists in fulfilling the design of their
Maker, in providing for their own greatest felicity, and contributing
all that is in their power to the convenience of others.'

'You seem, madam,' answered Lamont, 'to choose to make us all slaves to
each other.'

'No, sir,' replied Miss Mancel, 'I would only make you friends. Those
who are really such are continually endeavouring to serve and oblige
each other; this reciprocal communication of benefits should be
universal, and then we might with reason be fond of this world.'

'But,' said Lamont, 'this reciprocal communication is impossible; what
service can a poor man do me? I may relieve him, but how can he return
the obligation?'

'It is he,' answered Miss Mancel, 'who first conferred it, in giving you
an opportunity of relieving him. The pleasure he has afforded you, is as
far superior to the gratification you have procured him, as it is more
blessed to give than to receive. You will perhaps say of him, as the
apothecary in _Romeo and Juliet_ does of himself and tell me that,

"His poverty and not his will consents."

'So let it be, and do you

"Pay his poverty and not his will."

'But certainly the highest satisfaction is on your side, and much
obliged you are to that poverty, which enables you to obtain so great a
gratification. But do not think the poor can make no adequate return.
The greatest pleasure this world can give us is that of being beloved,
but how should we expect to obtain love without deserving it? Did you
ever see any one that was not fond of a dog that fondled him? Is it then
possible to be insensible to the affection of a rational being?'

'If Mr Lamont,' said one of the visitors, 'has not so high a sense of
the pleasure of being gratefully loved and esteemed, we ought not to
blame him; he, perhaps, like the greatest part of the world, has not
sufficiently tried it, to be a proper judge; Miss Mancel is certainly
very deep in this knowledge, and her opinion may be received as almost
an infallible decision, since it is founded on long experience; and how
nobly does she calm the eager wishes of impotent gratitude, in declaring
herself to be the most benefited when she confers obligations.'

This was uttered with so much warmth, and accompanied by looks so
expressive of affection and grateful sensibility, that I plainly saw it
proceeded from something more than mere speculati