poverty, they are great in tranquillity, resignation, and contentment. 66 'Pigmies are pigmies still, though perched on Alps; 66 I My neighbour, Mrs. Duncan, displays much of this true greatness of character. She has lived in good society, and has been accustomed to all the elegances and indulgences of affluence; yet she is not at all disposed either to repine at present privations, or vainly to boast of past grandeur. was not brought up to it," is often the murmur of a proud, rebellious spirit, when the former elevation was not very considerable. Such persons, having no real greatness of their own, endeavour to wrap themselves in the shadow of it, by boasting of their great connexions, high expectations, and bitter disappointments. There are, however, those who can feel thankfulness in having been brought down to many things, to which they were not brought up. Such I have reason to know is the case with Mrs. Duncan. She considers the loss of earthly substance as a trial sent in mercy, to remind her that earth is not her rest; and the bereavements she has suffered, as additional inducements to set her affections on things above, and to have her treasure and her heart in heaven. It is needless to detail the particular circumstances by which my neighbour was stripped of her wealth. She, however, after being for many years the mistress of a large house, with servants and a carriage at command, found herself reduced to a small income, with the charge of a little orphan granddaughter, the offspring of her only child, who, as well as her husband, had died in India. The father of this child having been in the Company's service, a small provision is secured for her maintenance and education. The whole, however, though to persons of humbler birth and expectations it might seem a comfortable provision, must, to those accustomed to such very different resources and expectations, appear little short of destitution. The sudden descent into the vale of obscurity never deprived my neighbour of self-possession. She gathered together the remainder of her property, selected from it such articles of furniture as were most adapted to the humble dwelling she was about to occupy, and disposed of the remainder; then set herself to arrange the interior of her habitation, with the same good taste she had formerly displayed in her elegant mansion, and with as much activity and propriety as if she had been constantly accustomed to discharge the humble duties of a servant. The quality of the furniture retained, indicates the sphere in which she has been accustomed to move. The books on her shelves are elegantly bound. The few articles of family plate she possesses are massive and richly chased. Her household linen and wearing apparel, and that of the child, though not modern, are rich and costly. Her manners and habits are in every respect those of a real gentlewoman. The down-stairs room, although furnished with a Yorkshire grate, by which something like the appearance of a kitchen is retained, in its other furniture and general aspect more nearly resembles that of a neat common parlour; the back place being fitted up as commodiously as possible to answer the purpose of a kitchen. The first-floor apartment, from the goodness of its furniture, and the tastefulness of its decorations, is much more worthy the name of a drawing-room than many that are dignified by that appellation. The attic is occupied as a bed-chamber by the lady and her granddaughter. A small French bed, or cot, which usually stands in that apartment, is occasionally removed to the lobby, and occupied by the little girl, when that of her grandmother is shared by an old friend, who pays her an annual visit, or when the assistance of any female attendant is required in cases of sickness. It will be observed, that no room remains for the occupation of a regular servant, nor does Mrs. Duncan consider it essential to her dignity and comfort, or find that her resources will allow her to keep one. The daughter of one of the neighbours, whom I shall hereafter have occasion to mention, comes in daily, to light the fire, clean the grate, fetch water, and do any rough, dirty work that may be required; and once a week remains the whole day, thoroughly to clean the house. Mrs. Duncan, assisted by her granddaughter, who is now eleven or twelve years old, makes her own bed, keeps the rooms in order, and attends to her own little marketings and cookery; nor does she feel herself at all degraded by these humble employments, but goes about them with as much ease and cheerfulness as if she had been all her life accustomed to them. Totally unlike Mrs. Brown, however, she does not find her element in them: they are quickly discharged, as necessary duties, and, to a well constituted mind, agreeable, because they are duties; but then they are dismissed and forgotten, for some employment more intellectual and congenial to her taste. She educates her grand daughter, which she considers the immediate business of her life. Aware that she will not have a large portion to leave her, her chief solicitude is to enrich her mind, and qualify her, by the inculcation of right principles and the formation of good habits, for passing through life with comfort to herself, and usefulness to others, in whatever sphere she may be called to move. Mrs. Duncan herself had a highly polished education, and is fully competent to impart to the object of her charge such a knowledge of polite accomplishments, as will place her on a level with young ladies who have had a first-rate school education; but her kind grandmother is chiefly intent on mental and moral cultivation, on teaching her to think and feel aright, to regulate her temper, to improve her time, to methodize her employments, and to turn to practical and benevolent account all the knowledge she acquires. The earliest efforts of the little girl's industry, were employed in knitting socks for a little barefooted baby, and making up an old garment of her own for a poor child rather younger than herself; and the recent productions of her ingenuity and taste in fancy work and painting, formed a contribution towards the stock of a bazaar, for the benefit of the county infirmary. The articles furnished were universally admired for their elegance; they found a ready sale, and proved a valuable addition to the funds of the institution. The old lady, too, presented several articles, ingeniously worked up from old-fashioned materials, among her little hoards. Thus, though no longer able to appear as the contributor of guineas to the subscription list, by the exercise of industry, with scarcely any expense, my kind neighbour has been able to become an equally efficient benefactor. Nor is her benevolence confined to extraordinary acts of occasional kindness; it is an all-pervading and constantly operating principle. I believe the desire is never absent from her mind to be doing good, and to find out ways of doing good, which apathy and indolence would overlook. Mrs. Duncan does not go much abroad for pleasure, but she is never backward to obey the call of charity. Having formerly had much experience of sickness in her own family, she is well qualified to render assistance to others in the time of affliction. Her delicate and judicious attentions render her a peculiarly valuable visitor in the sick chamber. In several instances, she has been a great blessing in the neighbourhood, in counteracting the ignorance and prejudice which too often defeat the endeavours of the most skilful medical men; and although she has not a great deal to bestow, beyond her kind services, she has often called the attention of the affluent to cases of real distress, which would otherwise, probably, have been entirely neglected. There are two or three wealthy families in the town, by whom Mrs. Duncan is highly respected, and her society is courted: she chiefly avails herself of these connexions, as they enable her to become the instrument of good to |