ejection, and in two years wore out her life with envy and discontent.

I was sent with a sister, one year younger than myself, to the elder
brother of my father. We were not yet capable of observing how much
fortune influences affection, but flattered ourselves on the road with
the tenderness and regard with which we should be treated by our uncle.
Our reception was rather frigid than malignant; we were introduced to
our young cousins, and for the first month more frequently consoled than
upbraided; but in a short time we found our prattle repressed, our dress
neglected, our endearments unregarded, and our requests referred to the
housekeeper.

The forms of decency were now violated, and every day produced new
insults. We were soon brought to the necessity of receding from our
imagined equality with our cousins, to whom we sunk into humble
companions without choice or influence, expected only to echo their
opinions, facilitate their desires, and accompany their rambles. It was
unfortunate that our early introduction into polite company, and
habitual knowledge of the arts of civility, had given us such an
appearance of superiority to the awkward bashfulness of our relations,
as naturally drew respect and preference from every stranger; and my
aunt was forced to assert the dignity of her own children, while they
were sculking in corners for fear of notice, and hanging down their
heads in silent confusion, by relating the indiscretion of our father,
displaying her own kindness, lamenting the misery of birth without
estate, and declaring her anxiety for our future provision, and the
expedients which she had formed to secure us from those follies or
crimes, to which the conjunction of pride and want often gives occasion.
In a short time care was taken to prevent such vexatious mistakes; we
were told, that fine clothes would only fill our heads with false
expectations, and our dress was therefore accommodated to our fortune.

Childhood is not easily dejected or mortified. We felt no lasting pain
from insolence or neglect; but finding that we were favoured and
commended by all whose interest did not prompt them to discountenance
us, preserved our vivacity and spirit to years of greater sensibility.
It then became irksome and disgusting to live without any principle of
action but the will of another, and we often met privately in the garden
to lament our condition, and to ease our hearts with mutual narratives
of caprice, pe