KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



159 



saying so, therefore poor Fan must pay the 

 penalty. It is just what I have always said, 

 that nine times out of ten, when a child is 

 punished, it is the parent, and not the child, 

 Avho deserves it.' 



Mrs. Robinson felt herself too angry to 

 reply immediately to this, and after a few 

 minutes' silence she only said, 



' I know you have very peculiar notions, 

 as most old bachelors have. According to 

 your views, I should let Fanny grow up 

 without any education at all.' 



' No,' he replied ; ' but you should con- 

 sult nature in the undertaking, and not 

 darken the brightest and freshest period of 

 her existence by forcing her to learn what it 

 is not in her nature to acquire.' 



' Consult nature !' repeated his sister, con- 

 temptuously, * What's a child's nature ? — 

 to play with a doll and eat sugar-plums ; and 

 am I, forsooth, to let her play with dolls and 

 eat sugar-plums for the rest of her days ?' 



' No,' he replied ; ' but you are not to 

 make her shed unnecessary tears, for which 

 the future may have no compensation. God 

 only knows what bitter drops she may be 

 called upon to weep hereafter, and were she 

 a daughter of mine, I would secure sunshine 

 and happiness for her childhood, the only 

 portion of life that is within a parent's con- 

 trol, and for the happiness of which he is re- 

 sponsible.' 



4 Phsaw,' said Mrs. Robinson, impatiently, 

 1 you do attach so much importance to a 

 child's tears. Fan's are dried ere now, I'll 

 answer for it ; the dew-drop on the rose is 

 not more evanescent.' 



' A very pretty simile, which suits those 

 who are careless about causing them,' pur- 

 sued Mr. Langtree ; ' the thorn upon the 

 rose would be more accurate — tiny, but 

 sharp. That childhood's sorrows are eva- 

 nescent is one of God's providences, for if 

 they were as lasting as they are keen, the ear- 

 liest years of our lives would be wretched 

 indeed. Let any one look back to their own 

 youth, and if they have any memory at all 

 they will remember some of the bitterest 

 griefs they have ever known. If I had 

 children, I would certainly study their young 

 hearts and consult their natures more than I 

 think is generally done.' 



* I wish to heaven you had, and half a 

 dozen of them,' thought Mrs. Robinson, 

 ' and then you would soon be cured of these 

 fine notions ;' but she only said aloud, ' Then 

 I am to dismiss Fanny's masters, and let her 

 run wild by way of securing her this c sun- 

 shine ' you talk of.' 



* You are not to cram her with what she 

 never can digest; force accomplishments 

 upon her for which she has no talent, nor, 

 above all, punish her for having no ear.' 



' She has ears enough,' said Mrs. Robinson, 



haughtily, ( if she only chooses to open 

 them.' Perseverance and application are all 

 that are needed to make children learn any 

 thing you choose to teach them.' 



' Then you recognise no original difference 

 in capacities nor peculiar gifts of nature ?' 

 remarked Mr. Langtree. 



' Certainly I do,' replied his sister; ' but 

 they are rare — genius of the highest grade, 

 for instance, like beauty. Fanny is no 

 beauty, and I do not expect to make her 

 one ; that is a direct gift from Heaven, but,' 

 added she, with an expression of the utmost 

 determination, ' I can make her accomplished 

 and I will.'' 



1 In spite of nature and thanks to no one,' 

 said Mr. Langtree, laughing. ' Well, we will 

 see who will conquer.' 



Mrs. Robinson was a widow with an only 

 child, the little Fanny, whose education has 

 already been discussed so much at large, and 

 whose career she was resolved should realise 

 the visions that had been disappointed in 

 her own. Like most persons, she deter- 

 mined that all the defects of her own edu- 

 cation should be remedied in that of her 

 child. She was not accomplished, therefore 

 Fanny should be, and she had married poor, 

 but so should not Fanny. With a craving 

 vanity and restless ambition, that nothing 

 had yet satisfied, she attributed all the mor- 

 tifications she had met with to want of early 

 culture, and believed that she could have sung 

 like a Malibran and talked like a Corinna, 

 if her mother had only pursued the system 

 she intended for Fanny, and that had not her 

 parents yielded to her foolish fancy for the 

 first young man that had addressed her, she 

 might now have been at the head of some 

 brilliant establishment where she would have 

 had that distinction her heart panted for. In 

 short, Fanny's belleship and Fanny's mar- 

 riage were to be that ' balm of Gilead' which 

 she had not yet found on earth. Wo to the 

 child whose future is expected to do so much ! 

 The different hours were only marked by dif- 

 ferent studies, and play and relaxation would 

 have been left altogether out of the scheme, 

 had not Mr. Langtree kindly hinted at the 

 bright eyes and glowing tints to be acquired 

 through them alone. 



Mr. Langtree saw that all these expecta- 

 tions were probably doomed to disappoint- 

 ment, for his little niece was as like what her 

 father had been, as he recollected him a boy 

 at school, as it was possible to imagine, and 

 certainly never were husband and wife more 

 unlike than Mr. and Mts. Robinson proved 

 to be. He had been a plain, kind-hearted, 

 honest man, as obtuse and good-humored as 

 his wife was restless and ambitious. They 

 had jogged on together a few years at oppo- 

 site ends of the chain, which galled her but 

 never troubled him, as he might rather be 



