96 



some time made great efforts. It is a strange 

 sort of indolence that chains me down, and 

 makes me delay, from moment to moment, the 

 trifling exertion of jumping up ; it is not sleep, 

 for I am generally awake, merely thinking, in a 

 confused sort of way, of things that are past, or 

 things that I intend to do. My aunt says, that 

 were I asleep all the morning, she would not 

 then struggle against my habits, for my consti- 

 tution might require sleep ; but I have not that 

 excuse to plead. 



When I do get up early, there is no time of 

 the day that I enjoy so much. The brightness 

 of the morning sun makes the dewy trees and 

 grass look so beautiful ; and then the birds seem 

 so happy, and so active, in the sweet fresh air. 

 These are pleasures that 1 knew not till I came 

 to England, and they are every day within my 

 reach. I have determined not to let them slip 

 iiny more. You have often told me of the danger 

 of giving way to bad habits, but nothing teaches 

 one so forcibly as experience. 



My aunt and uncle are both of them early 

 risers ; and they consider it of great importance 

 that young people should so manage their time 

 as to have some part of every morning to employ 

 in serious reading. " I wish my little Bertha," 

 said he, " to bestow ample time on the neat- 

 ness and propriety of her dress ; but it is still 

 more necessary that she should never feel in 



