her in an hospital, where admission for her was procured. But before taking this step, it was thought necessary to apprise Jean with what was going to be done. His grief being apprehended, the good curate himself set out for the college where he was, and in the most cautious and delicate manner intimated to him the state of his mother's circumstances, and how, no other course remaining free, it had been found expedient to place her in an hospital where aged and infirm persons were received, and properly attended to.

Jean Vigier heard his friend speak thus without shedding a single tear, but with a deep silent grief which strongly moved him who witnessed it. "Monsieur le Curé," said he at length, in a calm but firm tone, "I thank you for all your kindness, but my mother shall never enter the hospital, where she would die of grief. I shall leave this college, to return to it no more. I will stay with my mother; I will support my mother," he proudly added, his eyes flashing through the tears with which, notwithstanding his efforts, they began to be filled. The curate was astonished at such a resolution, coming from a child who had not yet reached his tenth year. He uselessly endeavoured, by showing him the numerous difficulties which must attend the execution of his plan, to deter him from the attempt. Jean Vigier remained undaunted; and to all the curate's remonstrances, respectfully but firmly replied, "I will support my mother."

Perceiving that his resolve was not to be shaken, the priest brought him home, sorry to see him lose the advantages of a good education, but full of admiration for the filial piety which dictated such conduct.

When it was known in the village that Jean Vigier meant to support his mother and himself by his own unaided exertions, the idea was much laughed at, and turned into ridicule; but Jean, though in years a child, had now the spirit and courage of a man. He did not heed those who, unable to comprehend the nobleness of his motives, could see in them only food for mockery; but, embracing his mother, and bidding her be of good cheer, since, whilst he lived, she should want for nothing, he earnestly set about looking for a trade. To say the truth, he was at first no little embarrassed; he felt that the knowledge he had acquired at the college could be of slight use to him now; and he was somewhat puzzled how to act, when luckily his school reminis cences came to his aid. He recollected, in the walks which he had been in the habit of taking with his companions, to have often met a child of his own age, who used to go about selling cakes, placed on a kind of wooden tray suspended from his neck. The thought was a flash of light. He resolved to imitate him; nothing doubting but that he could thus earn enough to support himself and his parent. He first communicated his resolve to his mother and to the curate. The former, who implicitly trusted in her beloved child, acquiesced; and the latter, with the help of

a few friends, furnished Jean with the means of executing his plan. And who was prouder and happier than Jean on the first day that he went about the whole country, with nice tempting cakes symmetrically arranged on the tray which he carried before him, covered with a snow-white cloth?

Jean had confidently expected to realise at least respectable gains by his new calling-the temptation of buying nice hot cakes seeming to him perfectly irresistible; but he unfortunately found that people were more stoically indifferent to the attractions of his wares than could have been reasonably expected. Some thought his hot cakes stale, others dear, and by far a larger number did not care for them good or bad. Alas! how often did poor Jean ery bitterly when, after wandering through a cold wintry day, he did not succeed in procuring even a few halfpence! How often did he seem on the point of losing courage altogether, when the thought of his poor helpless mother, now dependent on him, would come and inspire him with strength and renewed trust in Providence!

Nor was that trust vain. Though, after many severe trials, yet through unwearied zeal, perseverance, and labour, which seemed beyond the power of a child, Jean Vigier succeeded-not indeed in making a fortune, but in securing for his mother some of the comforts of her former life, and in preserving her from what, as he had rightly conjectured, would have embittered and shortened the rest of her days; namely, becoming the inmate of an hospital. But Jean was not without ambition. Even whilst going about with his cakes, he had conceived a hazardous project, yet which, if it succeeded, might certainly prove profitable. It was not, however, without certain inward misgivings that he was doing a very daring thing, that he determined to execute it. This was neither more nor less than to add to his cakes a small stock of toys. This plan may seem to the reader of very trifling importance, but to Jean it was of the deepest moment. He had for a long time been saving a small sum of money, which he now applied to the purchase of a few toys. The speculation, very fortunately, proved successful; and, in the intoxication of the moment, Jean almost thought of giving up the cakes altogether. Calmer reflection, however, showed him that this would be mere folly; and he determined, since it was practicable to do So, to sell both cakes and toys. It would be tedious to tell, after how long a space of time, and how many hard trials, Jean succeeded in gradually rising from this precarious position to a better and more lucrative one. He exchanged his toys for more substantial and more profitable wares; and as his strength and years increased, he travelled throughout the country with a pedlar's pack, visiting the neighbouring villages, where the honesty of his dealings, and his touching devotedness to his mother, gained him universal esteem, and secured him numerous

customers.

Jean Vigier has now grown up to manhood. The child's noble task has also been that of both the youth and the man; and, with the blessing of Providence, which followed him still, Jean has not only been able to support his mother, but, through the most humble means, and in the most unexpected manner, to secure for himself a decent and honest livelihood. The whole tenor of his conduct has been such, that in the year 1837 the French Academy felt itself justified in bestowing on him one of the medals distributed that year, as a slight reward of his honest efforts and industry, and, above all, of his touching behaviour towards his aged and infirm parent, so strongly contrasted by the unfeeling conduct of his elder brothers. Some regret may be entertained that the benevolent intentions of those persons who placed him in the college were frustrated, and that Jean Vigier has been compelled to abandon the search of knowledge for more humble pursuits. But though knowledge is assuredly one of the greatest earthly blessings, it is not the greatest: virtue will ever rank above it; and truly happy are those who, like Jean Vigier, are called upon to sacrifice it to duty and affection.

HENRIETTE GARDEN.

HENRIETTE GARDEN was only eight years of age when she unfortunately lost her mother. On finding himself a widower, her father confided her to the care of worthy and respectable persons, but who, from their incapacity, could only give her a very imperfect education. She was taught how to sew, and became very expert with her needle; but that, and the usual run of household work, was thought, both by her father and the persons with whom she was, sufficient for her education. When she was fourteen, Monsieur Garden brought her home, and confided to her care the management of his household. In this position she not only behaved with remarkable prudence and discretion for her years, but she also gave her father every proof of the most tender attachment.

As Henriette grew up, she received several advantageous offers of marriage; but she refused them all, having inwardly resolved that no motive should ever induce her to leave her parent. Such were her intentions, when Monsieur Garden abruptly informed her one day that he was going to marry again. Though surprised, and perhaps pained at this announcement, Henriette refrained from making any remark, and cheerfully submitted to an event which, she fervently hoped, might contribute to her father's happiness. The marriage took place; but what was her grief on learning, when it was over, that she was no longer to dwell beneath her father's roof. She was then twenty years of age, and although in affluent circumstances, Monsieur Garden refused to do anything for her, but intimated to her that she was

henceforth to depend on her own exertions for her maintenance. Henriette again submitted without a murmur of complaint. She took a small room in an obscure quarter of Paris, and supported herself by needlework. But although she laboured most assiduously from morning till night, she could never by this means earn more than one franc (tenpence) a-day. On this slight sum she lived and paid her rent.

Her only happiness, whilst leading this humble mode of life, was in visiting her father-whom, notwithstanding his indifference towards her, she could never refrain from tenderly loving. But she soon perceived, from the marked coldness with which she was treated, that her presence was far from being welcome in his house. Indeed it was not long before she was forbidden, in plain terms, to come any more. She, however, obtained permission to see him at certain epochs of the year; but even this was granted to her on condition that she would never come unless at those hours when no other visitors were received, and that she should enter by the back stairs used by the servants. To these humiliating conditions Henriette, whose devoted love nothing could conquer, still uncomplainingly submitted. When her father was ill -although it was not without great difficulty that even this was granted to her she attended him with unwearied care, consenting, since on this condition alone she could remain near him, to pass in the presence of strangers, and even in that of the medical attendants, for a hired nurse. The object of this essay is to show benevolence and virtue in their noblest forms, far more than to expose selfishness and indifference. Yet, when we reflect on the heartlessness with which Henriette Garden was treated, not only by her stepmother, but by her own father, it must be confessed that the touching devotedness of her unwearied love only acquires new lustre, and is truly beyond all praise.

After the recovery of Monsieur Garden, he again told his daughter that her presence was unpleasant, and that she must return to her own home. Henriette meekly retired. She returned to her poor lodging, and continued her labours for her subsistence. Years rolled on: Henriette lost sight of her father's family: they had removed to some distant part of the country. One day she was surprised in seeing her aged and ungrateful parent enter her dwelling. He had lost all his fortune, and his wife had deserted him. He came to seek refuge-to die—in the house of his much-abused daughter. Henriette received him with as much joy as though he had ever been to her the kindest father; and immediately giving up her bed to him, she neglected nothing which could contribute to his comfort. With a delicacy and reserve above all praise, she forbore to question him on his misfortunes, and never did she utter a word of reproach.

Although she was then suffering from a painful illness, Henriette seemed to acquire new strength from the moment that she had her father to support and attend. Notwithstanding her

notice, however remarkable or meritorious these may be, many must remain unknown. Nor does the Academy pretend to pay the authors of those deeds which have merited its applause; those men possessed of providential courage, those poor women endowed with angelical devotedness, have placed their reward elsewhere. The French Academy acts merely in the capacity of executor; it simply delivers the pious legacy which has been destined to them. At the same time that it loudly proclaims their actions, it takes pleasure in having the knowledge spread far and wide; not that their vanity may enjoy a puerile satisfaction, but that others may be improved, that this simple recital may touch those who will read it, and create in the hearts of all the love of virtue and the desire of imitation. Philosophers have often shown themselves embarrassed to define virtue, to assign it its distinctive marks, and divide it into classes. The Academy is not so critical. It prefers, amongst different virtues, when a choice must be made, that which includes and inspires them all, and to which Christianity has given the name of charity."

A history of a few of the cases which merited prizes, will serve much better than any harangue to point out the utility of this benevolent foundation. The cases occur under four different heads-Filial Piety, Charity, Fidelity, and Courage.

PAULINE COPAIN.

In the year 1838, a lawyer was directed to take the necessary steps for recovering a debt which was due to one of his clients by a man named Copain, then residing with his family in the village of Saint-Marc sur Seine, in the north-eastern part of France. In order to ascertain what likelihood there was of the debt being paid, the lawyer proceeded himself to the house of the debtor. Never," he afterwards declared, "did I witness a sight more touching than that offered to me on this occasion." He was introduced into a small and humbly-furnished, but strictly-clean room. An infirm and aged man, in whom it was not difficult to recognise an old soldier, was sitting near the fireplace, and with difficulty rose to receive the visitor; his wife, whom her advanced age evidently rendered incapable of any save the slightest exertion, was busying herself in some trifling household work; and on a bed, in a recess of the apartment, lay a poor helpless girl, seemingly deprived of the use of her limbs, and whom her vacant and wandering look but too evidently proclaimed to be an idiot. Almost immediately a fourth person appeared; this was Mademoiselle Pauline Copain, a poor village schoolmistress, and daughter of the debtor. She seemed to be about thirty-five years of age, and was neatly but simply attired; her appearance was mild and interesting, but without anything very remarkable; indeed the lawyer would certainly have paid