Front Cover
 Title Page
 Commendatory notices
 Chapter I
 Chapter II
 Chapter III
 Chapter IV
 Chapter V
 Chapter VI
 Back Cover

Group Title: The lily of the valley
Title: The Lily of the valley
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065466/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Lily of the valley
Physical Description: 101, 4 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Sherwood ( Mary Martha ), 1775-1851 ( Author, Primary )
Dodd, Moses Woodruff, 1813-1899 ( Publisher )
Taylor, Sarah Louisa, 1809-1836
Whetham, Joseph ( Publisher )
Weeks, Jordan & Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: M.W. Dodd
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1840
Edition: 3d ed.
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Women seminarians -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Gardens -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Humility -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Youth -- Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1840
Genre: novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Statement of Responsibility: by the author of Little Henry and his bearer.
General Note: Publisher's advertisement: "Memoir of Mrs. Sarah Louisa Taylor",published by John S. Taylor, ... New-York; Boston, Weeks, Jordan and Co., Philadelphia, Joseph Whetham" on p. 1-4 at end.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065466
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002237410
oclc - 50957744
notis - ALH7897

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Title Page
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Commendatory notices
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Chapter I
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    Chapter II
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    Chapter III
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
    Chapter IV
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    Chapter V
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    Chapter VI
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

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ii[ llr 'y a vinu ll -mle~ of lail!~r!~e
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N E W-Y 0 R K:

Brick Church Chapel.



From the Methodist Protestant, Baltimore.
This is a neat and very interesting little volume. The
narrative throughout will be read with pleasure, and some
portions of it with thrilling interest. The story is natural,
and told in very neat language, and with admirable simpli-
city. It is not only calculated to please and interest the
mind of the reader, but also, to make moral, and religious
impressions upon the heart. We are well assured, if its mer-
its were generally known, that it would find its way into
many families, and Sabbath school libraries, as it is partic
ularly adapted to please and engage the attention of Juven
ile readers.

From the Christian Intelligencer.
This is a republication of a small narrative volume pub-
lished in England. The narrative is written with beautiful
simplicity, possesses a touching interest, and is calculated
to leave a salutary impression. It is well fitted for a pres-
ent by parents or friends to children, and is worthy of a
place in Sabbath school libraries.

From the Ladies Morning Star of Aug. 26, 1836.
The above is the title of a very interesting little work of
123 pages, recently published and for sale by J. S Taylor,
Brick Church Chapel, New-York. It is a simple though
beautiful narrative of a young female, some portions of
which.are of the most pathetic and affecting character, par-
ticularly designed for the edification and instruction of
young females, and a most excellent work to introduce into
Sabbath schools. Its tendency is to kindle the flames of
piety in the youthful bosom, to instruct the understanding,
and to warm and improve the heart. Its intrinsic though
unostentatious merits, should furnish it with a welcome
into every family.

Commendatory Notice by the Rev. W. Patton.

It affords me pleasure to learn that you are about to re-
publish the little work called "The Lily of the Valley."
Since the time it was presented to my daughter, by the
Rev. Dr. Matheson, of England, it has been a great favour-
.te in my family. It has been read with intense interest
by many, who have from time to time obtained the loan of
it. Indeed it has but seldom been at home, since its first
perusal. I doubt not but all who have read it, will be glad
of the opportunity of possessing a copy.
The story is not only natural, but instructive ; and well
calculated to impress upon the mind important moral and
religious lessons. Some portions of the narrative are of the
most touching and thrilling character. There is a charming
simplicity pervading the work. I feel a strong confidence
that you will find an ample sale for the book. It will find
its way into many families, and be found in the libraries of
the Sabbath school.
Yours respectfully,
NEW YORK, May 27, 1836.




I SHALL commence my narrative by stating that
I am a native of France, and a very old man
More than forty years since I was minister of a
small parish situated in the beautiful province of
Normandy, in France; that province which gave
her conqueror and her princes for many genera-
tions to the country in which I have now taken
up my abode.
I was educated for the pastoral office; the
parish which was appointed me lies upon the
Seine ; it extends along the left bank of that
beautiful river, which, as is well known, rises
near Saint Seine, in Burgundy, and mingles
itself with the sea below the city of Rouen.

It is a region rich in orchards and vineyards.
in fragrant meadow lands and thymy downs-to
the north thereof lies a forest, extending itself
for several leagues over a space most beautifully
diversified with hill and dale, and affording within
its deep recesses such a great variety of cool
grottos, waterfalls, and natural bowers, as I have
seldom seen in any other part of the world.
There is the sweet village, each little dwelling
of which has its thatched roof, its rural porch,
and its gay flower garden. We had our chateau
also, which being built of gray stone, and having
a commanding sight, afforded a pleasing object
to the road which runs from' Paris to Rouen on
the other side of the Seine; its fanes and turrets
at that time being exalted above the neighbour-
ing woods, though, as I now understand, they
are levelled to the dust; and near the chateau
was the Tour de Tourterelle, which, gave the
title to the family-a huge old tower coeval with
the first dukes of Normandy.
Whilst residing in Normandy, I was a Papist,
though now, through the influence of a clearer
light shining upon my soul, I am a Protestant;
and I humbly pray that my mind may never again

be brought under the dark delusions in which it
was involved in my younger days.
It is possible that my youthful reader may not
precisely understand the points on which the
Protestant and the Papist are at variance. These
particulars are numerous, and many of them are
not easily ascertained, because the Papist do not
present the doctrines of their church in a simple
or well-defined form. When a Protestant refers
to the works which are held in authority among
the Papists, and points out the errors contained
therein, they shift their ground, and in all pos-
sible ways evade a straight-forward line of argu-
ment. Their most authenticated modern forms
of worship are from the decrees of the Council
of Trent, which commenced its sittings in 1545,
and continued, though a long interval intervened,
until 1563. That council was held by the com-
mand of the pope at Trent, a city in the north of
Italy, and many decrees were issued by it,.both
as to matters of faith and ceremonies. These
were sanctioned by the highest authority of the
Church of Rome, and never have been in any
way repealed or modified; they may therefore
be referred to as the authorized statement of

popish doctrines, and Protestants may reason
respecting them as the rule of faith of the Romish
Church. It is true that they were not received
with the same degree of implicit submission, by
all the countries which continued to profess
themselves followers of the Church of Rome;
and in Protestant countries at the present day,
the Papists are unwilling to admit fully, that they,
as such, are bound by the decrees of the Council
of Trent; their policy appears to consist in con-
tinually shifting their position, and presenting
new forms of defence, which being of a shadowy
and mysterious nature, are incapable of being
overturned by plain reason, or other means which
might be used against their errors if advanced
in a more substantial form. The Protestant, on
the other hand, uses no subterfuge whereby he
may confound his enemies, and escape the con-
sequences to which the principles he recognizes
must lead ; but simply maintains his belief in
Scripture, and asserts that whatsoever is not
read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not
to be required of any man, that it should be be-
lieved as an article of faith, or be thought requi-
site or.necessary to salvation.

But I forgot that I am writing for such as
cannot be supposed to enter fully into discussions
of this nature. I shall therefore avoid going
more deeply into them, simply requesting my
youthful reader to bear these things in mind,
namely, that of the two principal orders of per-
sons calling themselves Cl;-. ,r -. the first,
namely, the Protestants, profess to take the Bible
as their rule of life and of belief; the second,
the Papists bind themselves to obey the com-
mandments of their Church, of which the pope
is, as they pretend, the father, the spiritual head,
the absolute and infallible ruler; and the priests
of that Church assume to themselves a power
and authority far beyond that of any mortal being,
in all matters connected with religion.
When first admitted to my cure, the family at
the chateau consisted of many individuals ; but
one and another of these being removed by death
or marriage, Madame la Baronne only was left
to us after a few years, and such was the kind-
ness and amiable deportment of this lady, that it
was commonly said of her, that all the virtues of
the long and illustrious line of ancestry, of which
she was the last in that part of the country, had

centered in her. In fact, her conduct merited
our sincere affection and gratitude; but when
we are made acquainted, through the divine
teaching, with the fallen and corrupt state of
human nature, we dare not to use or admit that
high strain of panegyric which more presump-
tuous individuals employ without apprehension.
Between the village and the chateau stood our
church, built also of grey stone, in the Norman
Gothic style, and near to the church was a large
dark timbered house, with two gable ends point-
ed with wooden crosses, where lived a decayed
gentlewoman, a widow, whom I shall call Ma-
dame Bulb.
This lady being an accomplished woman for
that day, and much reduced in her fortune, re-
ceived young ladies into her house for their ed-
ucation, and was, I believe, as far as the dark
state of her mind would admit, a faithful and
laborious guide to her young people.
Near to Madame Bule's seminary was my own
little mansion, nay, so near, that the window of
my study, which was an upper room, projected
over the garden wall of the seminary, and I used
often to amuse myself by showering sugar-plums

from thence upon the little ones who were as-
sembled on the lawn beneath.
From the period of my entering upon my
charge until I was more than forty years of age,
I enjoyed a long interval of comparative peace.
I was fond of a retired life. I had a peculiar
delight in the study of nature, and in that part of
it especially which refers to the formation and
beautiful variety of the vegetable world. I made
a collection of all the plants in the neighbour-
hood, and would walk miles, for the chance of
obtaining anew specimen. I had other pursuits
of the same kind, which filled up the intervals
of my professional duties, and through the divine
goodness, kept me from worse things during
those years of my life in which I certainly had
not that sense of religion which would have up-
held me in situations of stronger excitement.
Thus I was carried on in a comparatively blame-
less course through a long period of my life, for
which I humbly thank my God, and take no
manner of credit to myself; though I feel that
it is a mercy for which an individual cannot
be too grateful, when he is brought to a sense of
sin and to a knowledge of his own weakness, to

find that in the days of his spiritual darkness he
has been guarded, on the right hand and on the
left, from shoals and rocks and whirlpools, in
which wiser persons than himself have made
terrible shipwrecks. But, as I said above, I was
led on from year to year in a sort of harmless
course ; and whereas I enjoyed much peace, so
was the same bestowed upon my neighbours in
general, in a larger proportion than could have
been expected, when the agitated state of our
country, as it regarded religion and politics, is
brought under consideration. In the mean time,
the little establishment of Madame Buld was
carried on in a manner so peaceful and tranquil,
that it can hardly be questioned but that the pro-
tecting hand of providence was extended over
this academy, although undoubtedly the instruc-
tions there received, partook of the spiritual
darkness at that period spread over the whole
At length, however, as Madame became less
able to exert herself, and as new modes of in-
struction and more fashionable accomplishments
became requisite, in order to satisfy the parent's
of her scholars, she thought it right to procure


an assistant, and Mademoiselle Victoire, a young
lady who had been educated in Paris, was ap-
pointed to the situation. Thus the wolf was
admitted into the fold; for this young person,
being exceedingly vain and worldly minded, no
sooner found herself established in the family
of Madame Buld, than she began to disturb the
peace of its inmates.
All those accomplishments which delight the
senses were what were chiefly held in esteem
by Mademoiselle; she had no value for the qual-
ities of the heart, and no discernment of retiring
and humble merit; hence her favours were ever
lavished on the vain and frivolous, provided they
were possessed of such qualities as she admired;
whilst some of the most amiable young people
in the seminary were continually exposed either
to her ridicule or her reproaches.
In consequence of this unjust conduct she
presently raised a very unamiable feeling among
the young people, many of whom began to form
false estimates of each other's merits, and to
hate and envy those individuals among their
companions who possessed any of those qualities
or distinctions, whether mental, personal or acci-

dental, which were calculated to ensure the
favour of Mademoiselle. And then it was that
I first observed a change in the air and appear-
ance of the young people when they came out to
amuse themselves in their garden during the
intervals of their studies ; then it was that the
voice of anger first arose towards my window,
and my ear was then first saluted with the tones
of discord, disturbing the beautiful harmony of
the scene. I observed also, after a while, that
there was an entire cessation of those games and
diversions in which the young people formerly
seemed to take such interest; neither did I hear
those cries of joy proceeding from the play-
ground which were in former periods so delight-
ful to my ear as I sat in my study-for worldly
purposes and feelings had crept into this little
society, and I, as if aware that these symptoms,
observed amongst these young people, were only
the beginnings of misfortunes, frequently at that
time looked back on the days of innocent (com-
paratively innocent) pleasure which were fast
passing away, with a sort of regret which seemed
even more bitter than the occasion warranted.
The time had been, nay, it was hardly gone,


when it had been the chief delight of the pupils
of Madame Bule to cultivate flowers in all at-
tainable varieties, and Madame had given a
small piece of ground to each little girl for this
I had often busied myself in procuring rare
seeds and fine specimens of flowers for these
little people, by which small services I had
obtained the name of Le Bon Pere*, Le Bon
Pidre Raffr6, and was saluted with cries of joy
whenever I appeared in the garden. Then with
what eager delight did the little rebels gather
round me, and some indeed were daring enough
to thrust their hands into my pockets, to rob me
of the small packets of seeds or bulbous roots
which had been desposited therein to attract the
pretty little thieves. More than once I have
seized a dimpled hand in the very act of felony,
and than have taken out my large clasp knife, to
open it wide, to whet it on the nearest stone, and
to pretend that I was about to take instant and
cruel revenge ; whilst the sparkling and blooming
delinquents shrieked and danced around me,
now receding, now advancing, now approaching,
now retiring, till every avenue of the garden re-
The good Father.

echoed with their merry notes of innocent delight
O joyous days of happy and unapprehensive
youth, when the light heart never wearies with
the same jest, however often reacted or repeated,
nor yawns at the oft-told tale !
Often too I was invited to the collation at
four o'clock, when the weather would permit
the little party to enjoy that simple meal in the
open air ; and when Father Raffre promised his
company, most happy was that little fair one
who could contribute the most elegant decora
tions for the feast, or supply the most beautiful
baskets of reeds or osiers to stand in lieu of the
china or plate which adorns the tables of more
magnificent orders.
As I before said, I was then a Roman Catholic
it was the religion to which I had been brought
up, and although I will not say that from time
to time some faint apprehensions might not have
crossed my mind even then, respecting the
soundness of the principles in which I had been
nurtured, yet these gleams of light had hitherto
been transitory as the rays which fall upon the
earth when the morning is spread upon the
mountains and the clouds are driven forward


along the path of the sun. But this I trust that
I may say of myself, and of many of my brethren
at that time, that, as far as our knowledge went,
we were sincere; and that if we sometimes
appeared to be otherwise, it was because we
were not always assured that our faith had that
foundation in truth, which it must needs have in
order to be effective. Notwithstanding which, I
think I may add, that I did endeavour, when thus
familiarly associated with these little people, to
press upon them the importance of spiritual
things, and with this view directed them often to
raise up their hearts to God when employed in
their most ordinary actions. To this piece of
excellent advice I added, as might be expected,
certain admonitions respecting forms, of a nature
which 1 now see to have been decidedly prejudi-
cial, inasmuch as outward forms, so frivolous as
those which are commanded by the church to
which I then belonged, have a direct tendency
to lead the mind from seeking that inward and
spiritual grace, of which outward forms are but
the types. Amongst those forms which I parti-
cularly enforced, I well remember one, which
was that of making the sign of the cross many

times during the day: I also insisted that these
young people should repeat the Ave Maria, and
certain other prayers which I taught them in the
Latin tongue, as often as they could make it
convenient so to do ; assuring them that by their
obedience or disobedience in these particulars,
they would rise or fall in favour with God and
with the Church. Thus I endeavoured, though
on false principles, to shed the odour of sanctity
on our little assemblies, and for some years I
had no strong reason to perceive that the weapons
of warfare which I had placed in the hand of
my little pupils, were not sufficiently powerful
to enable them to resist the snares of Satan and
the dangers of the world. For, as I remarked
above, whilst Madame Bule alone presided over
her school, and whilst her pupils were small, the
ill effects of the heartless and formal system
inculcated by me did not appear; neither did the
evil break out till the general agitation of the
country was in some degree extended to this
little society, by the arrival of Mademoiselle
Victoire, who, according to the prevailing spirit
of the age, no sooner found herself established
in the seminary that she took the lead, before


her superior, and commenced that work of dis-
organization, which was already advancing in
the capital.



AT the time of which I am about to speak, there
were in Madame Bule's seminary three young
ladies, whom I shall have particular occasion to
mention by and by, and shall therefore proceed
to describe in this place. The eldest of these
was named Susette, and was, in point of external
profession, the rose of the parterre-a blooming,
lovely young person, but of a high and haughty
spirit when opposed; yet one, I think, which
might have been led to any thing by a kind and
gentle hand.
Susette was a chief favourite of Mademoiselle
Victoire, and had her warm partisans, her open
admirers, and secret enemies in the little estab-
lishment. Neither was she without her rival;
for what favourite is so happy as not to have
sometimes reason to dread the influence of an-
other? Mademoiselle was capricious, and where-
as at one time she caressed Susette, at another
time she was all complacency to Fanchon, the


only young lady amongst the pupils of Madame
Buld whose pretensions could be brought in com-
parison with those of Susette-but whereas I
have called Susette a rose, Fanchon, whose hair
was of a bright and rich auburn, might best have
been compared to the golden lily, the pride and
glory of the oriental gardens-that flower which
is, as some pretends, emblazoned on the arms of
that noble house, the star of which at one time
seemed to have sunk in hopeless darkness,
though it has since risen again, we trust, to
shine with superior splendour, and with a purer
light than in the period of its former exaltation.
It is my prayer, my daily and hourly prayer for
the people of my country, that the same light
which has been vouchsafed to me may be be
stowed on them; and that as the holy Scrip
tures are now, I trust, my only rule of life and
test of faith, so also they may henceforward be
the strength and bulwark of the people and land
of my fathers.
But to return to my narrative: I must confess
that the character of Fanchon never pleased me,
she had none of that candour and openness of
temper so agreeable in youth, and which I would

rather see in its excess than its deficiency, al-
though that excess may border on imprudence;
for age assuredly must add prudence to the cha-
racter, whereas it seldom deducts from a spirit
of cold and selfish caution.
The third among the pupils of Madame Buld
whom I must particularly describe, was an
English girl, and an orphan. I never knew by
what chance this child had been consigned to
the care of Madame Buld, neither do I recollect
her real name; but she was called Aimde by
her preceptress, and by that name she went
amongst us. Neither do I know more of her
age, than that she was thought too young for
confession till she had been in the house more
than two years, and therefore I judge that she
was between eleven and twelve years of age at
the time of which I am speaking. This little
girl was small of her years, and was one who
would generally have passed unnoticed in a
group of children, yet when closely examined,
she had one of the sweetest countenances I ever
beheld; her hair and complexion marked her
Saxon origin, and the tender innocence and
dimpled beauty of her sweet face brought her


frequently in comparison, in my imagination,
with some such figure as I have often seen of an
infant Jesus, whom the artist has represented in
the arms of his mother, looking down from some
high altar with love and compassion on the mul-
titude kneeling before him. Such were the high
comparisons which I made for the lovely little
Aimae-yet why do I call the comparisons
high? Are not images, however beautiful, how-
ever exalted, however held in honour, but blocks
of wood and stone, carved into the similitude of
man by the hand of man? and is not the body
of man the work of God himself, and in every
instance wonderful and past imitation, and even
past comprehension? for what doth David say
on this subject? Psalm cxxxix. 14, I am fear-
fully and wonderfully made, marvellous are thy
works, and that my soul knoweth right well.
Nevertheless, I own that the time has been
when I bowed with religious awe before the
graven image, and poured forth my soul there-
unto in solemn prayer, without considering any
of those subtle distinctions which the learned of
the papal Church pretend to make respecting
relative and inferior honour: for the Roman

Catholic Church, when making its comments on
the first commandment, uses the following ex-
pressions, which I shall give in the form of ques-
tion and answer, as I found in the authorized
catechism published in this country:-
Question.-" Does the first commandment for-
bid us to give any kind of honour to the saints
and angels ?
Answer.-" No, it only forbids us to give
them supreme or divine honour, which belongs
to God alone: but it does not forbid us to give
them that inferior honour, which is due to them
as the faithful servants and special friends of
Q.-" And is it allowed to honour relics, cru
cifixes, and holy pictures ?
A.-" Yes, with an inferior and relative hon
our, as they relate to Christ and his saints, and
are memorials of them."
But, as I have already remarked, when kneel
ing before these crucifixes and images, I fear
that I too often retain but very imperfect ideas
of these distinctions, and in the too visible type
or representation too often lost the recollection
of the antetype.

To return to little Aimee : she was a child
exactly formed to be the delight and joy of some
venerable grandmother, or of some widowed and
bereaved wife and mother. One who in retire-
ment would have been the sweetest friend and
companion which sadness or sorrow could ever
know, being no doubt divinely endowed with that
holy peace of mind and tranquillity of spirit
which the world can never disturb, because the
world can have no intercourse therewith. Yet,
at the same time, being a character which was
so entirely over looked in scenes of bustle and
worldly commotion, that her companions seemed
seldom to take any farther notice of her than to
push her aside when she crossed their paths;
still, however, she possessed in so large a de-
gree the spirit of harmlessness so truly congenial
with the Christian character, that it would have
been impossible (one should have thought) to
have hated this little girl. Nevertheless she
did incur the active hatred of Mademoiselle
Victoire, and this in a way which such as are
not somewhat skilled in the nature of the human
heart will not easily comprehend, but which will
be evident enough to those to whom the secret


recesses of that fountain of all that is impure are
in some degree revealed-some fault had been
committed in the house soon after the arrival of
Mademoiselle, the blame was laid on Aimee, and
on the bare suspicion Mademoiselle punished
her severely, neither would she remit her pun-
ishment till Madame interfered; it was found
afterwards that Aim6e was innocent, but Made-
moiselle never pardoned her.
I had observed, as I have before remarked,
that since the arrival of Mademoiselle Victoire
the simple, cheerful spirit which had formerly
animated the family of Madame Bule had disap-
peared ; and instead of the lively games in which
the pupils of all ages had hitherto engaged, I
could see from my window that there were par-
ties formed in the young society. It was very
evident that there was an open rivalry established
between the rose and the fleur de lis* [by the
by, a rivalry of old and renewed establishment;]
also I could perceive that there were few of the
young people who did not enlist themselves
under one or other of these banners, and I could
sometimes hear words runningvery high amongst
The Lily.


individuals of the different parties, though I
could not exactly understand the precise subject
of these controversies.
At length, however, it happened as I was sit-
ting one afternoon with my window open, it be-
ing two days before the feast of Easter, that I
saw the young people proceeding in a body from
the porch; Mademoiselle Victoire was in the
midst of them, and she was talking with great
vivacity on a subject which seemed to interest
every one. They advanced in a direction which
brought them nearly under my window, and then
Mademoiselle sat down on a garden chair in the
centre of the grass plat, whilst her two favour-
ites stationed themselves on each side of her,
and one by one she called each of the other
young people to the footstool of her throne, for
she sat in much state, and after having looked
into the palm of every hand with the grimaces
used by a fortune-teller, for so I understood the
scene, she dismissed each individual, with some
prognostic or witticism, which, as I perceived,
excited peals of laughter, but not such laughter
as I felt agreeable to me. It appears that the
young people had at that moment forgotten that

it was possible I might be so near them, for al-
though I could see them well, and distinguish
every gesture, yet I was myself so concealed by
a jessamine just bursting into leaf, which I had
trained over a part of my window, it would not
have been.easy for the most penetrating eye to
have detected me behind this natural screen, and
thus, as I was not within their view, neither was
I in their thoughts at that period.
This pastime, of whatever tendency it might
have been, had proceeded for some time, and
each of the little people then present had pre-
sented their palm, and heard the prognostics of
her future fate from the self-elected prophetess,
when suddenly a sort of demur arose among
the party, and I saw every one turn to look
around her; at length I heard the voice of Made-
moiselle calling Aimee, and at the same time I
perceived that the little girl had not been present.
The next minute all the young party began to
scatter themselves over the garden, as if in quest
of the child, and the name of this little one pro-
ceeded from the various parts of the pleasure
ground, and was returned by an echo, caused by
an angle formed by the tower and the body of


the Church. Sone minutes elapsed, it seems,
before the little lost one was discovered; she
was (as I afterwards learned) at last detected in
an arbour formed of flowering shrubs, at the very
bottom of the garden, cowering down under the
shade of a lauristinus, and deeply engaged in
reading a very small book. She was ;".1 1l ',.
seized upon by Susette and Fanchon, who both
sprang upon her at the same instant, and i ,_ _. .1
her between them into the awful presence of
Mademoiselle Victoire.
The little captive uttered no sound, and used
but little resistance ; but when brought directly
before Mademoiselle Victoire, she fell on her
knees, and, pointing to Susette, seemed to be
earnestly imploring some favour of the utmost
importance. What this favour was I could not
discover; but I was made to understand that, so
far from havingobtained it she had only incurred
more violent displeasure by the strength of her
pleadings, for I saw Mademoiselle push her
away several times, and then I heard my own
name repeated, with an assurance that some-
thing, I knew not what, should not be concealed
from me.

Being thus, as I considered, called upon, I
arose, and putting my head out at the window,
I called to Mademoiselle, and asked her what
had happened, and wherefore my name was
Mademoiselle, who had stood up to correct
the child, turned hastily at the sound of my
voice, and approaching as near to me as possible,
My good Father, she said, we have need of
your advice and counsel, and we hope that you
will insist that this child shall endure a severe
penance. Here she stopped to recover breath,
of which her passion had deprived her, and then
proceeded. This wicked little heretic, she said,
whom Madame has always upheld as a sort of
saint amongst us, has, it seems, retained in her
possession, ever since she came into this place,
a volume of the Holy Scriptures in her native
language, though she knows that children like
herself are not competent to use the holy books
to any advantage. She has actually been dis-
covered in an arbour of this garden, deep in th6
study of this volume, using such art in so doing
as shows the blackness and depravity of her
heart. Thus speaking, she gave the child a


push from her, with that sort of expression of
abhorrence as one would use to a loathed animal.
And where is this book? I asked. It was
immediately held up to my view by Susette,
and I perceived that it was an abrigement only
of the holy Scriptures, being an exceedingly
small volume, not above four inches square. It
looked old and much worn; and it struck me
that there was a malicious feeling shown towards
the child in making so much of this insignificant
matter, and not, as I thought, much policy in it,
as it related to the interests of the Church to
which I was then attached. I therefore said,
let the book be given to Madame, and to-morrow
I will come over, and speak to her on the sub
I hoped by this that I should have satisfied
all parties; but in this I was mistaken. No
sooner did little Aimee understand that the tiny
volume in question was to be given to Madame,
than she dropped on her knees upon the grass,
and looking up to me with streaming eyes and
united hands-Oh! dear father kind father
Raffr6, she said, order me the severest penance,
let me live on bread and water for a year to


come, but do not take aw y my book-my lovely
little book-do not take my poor little book.
Dear child, I replied, dear child, wipe away
your tears ; to-morrow I will meet you in the
Church, you shall confess all to me about your
little book ; and do not fear, you shall have justice
done to you. And thus I dismissed the whole
party, though I felt that I had not given satis-
faction to either side by the manner in which I
had answered the appeal. Neither was I mis-
taken in this my opinion, for Mademoiselle
returned in a very ill humour to the house ; and
though Aimee and the affair of the book were
spoken of no more that evening, yet the young
ladies began to quarrel with each other upon
these grounds,-namely, that Mademoiselle Vic-
toire had promised to one a prince and a coach-
and-six, a duke to another, a barouche and four
and a marquis to another, a simple baron to ano-
ther, a rich burgher to another, and to a less
favoured one a mere coachman. As I had sus-
pected, and afterwards learned, Mademoiselle
had been telling her pupils their fortunes, or
rather had taken this way of giving them some
idea of their several pretentious, and by this


means had excited in their minds every sort of
idea which ought to Iave been held back from
them; and indeed, so high did the rancour of
the several parties rise on this occasion, that
Madame Bul6 was obliged to exert her authority,
and very severe was the reproof she gave when
she understood the cause of this uproar which
had disturbed her peace. Do you not know,
said she, that the day after to-morrow is Easter,
and that to-morrow you are to meet Father Raffr6
for confession; and in what spirit or temper will
you be for this sacrament if you retire to rest in
the indulgence of such angry passions ? For
shame, young ladies; do not thus convert an
innocent jest into a subject of discontent and
It is needless, surely, here to remark, that in
this reproof of Madame Bule, which was faith-
fully reported to me, there were two important
errors ; in the first instance, confession is no
sacrament, neither a part of the sacrament, there
being but two sacraments appointed by our bless-
ed Saviour, namely, baptism and the supper of


the Lord ;* and the jest of Mademoiselle Vic-
toire was every thing but innocent, therefore
Madame should not have so designated it.

The Church of Rome considers that there are seven
sacraments; adding to the two mentioned in the New Tes-
tament five others, namely penance, confession, orders,
matrimony, and extreme unction.



EARLY the next morning, it was signified to
me that Madame Bul desired to speak with me,
and when I had obeyed her summons the amia-
ble woman opened her mind to me to the follow
ing effect : My dear Father Raffre, she said, my
mind has lately been much troubled respecting my
pupils ; the time was, as you well know, when we
enjoyed a degree of peace which is now utterly
foreign to our household. I was then, she add-
ed, and the tear was in her eye when she spoke
more alert and active than I now am, and better
able to endure the fatigues of my situation. It was
then, she continued, that every hour brought it--
pleasure, and every change its delight; my chil
dren come with cheerfulness to their lessons and'
left them with glee to enjoy their sports ; if one
did amiss all were humble; if one was praised all
were pleased; if one received a present, all were
to have a share in it; if one was unwell, all par-
took in her pain. Now the case is entirely altered,

I hear of nothing but of rivalries and ill-will; if I
praise one individual, I offend twenty; and if I find
fault with one offender, I give cause of triumph
tu twenty more. Itis notnow'a question who can do
best, but who is most accomplished or most gen-
teel; and instead of joy and peace, my household
is one continued scene of dissatisfaction.
And cannot you account, Madame, I said, for
this change in the character of your household;
are you sure that the person whom you employ
to assist you is exactly suited to your purpose ?
Mademoiselle Victoire, she replied, is dili
gent and accomplished ; I might not get a better
were I to dismiss her : but you, my good father,
shall hear my children's confession, and I am
sure that they will find in you a faithful and
pious counsellor.
After this conversation I took the earliest op-
portunity of calling the young people to confes-
sion. The Church was set aside for that duty;
and Madame Bul6 made a point of being in the
Church with us, although she did not remain
within hearing.
As a confessor, I have, through the course of
a long ministry, heard many awful secrets, and

though I am now no longer of the Romish
Church, I still would make it a point of honour
not to betray any confidence which was placed
in me under the character which I formerly
held of a father confessor. The confessions,
however, which were made to me by the pupils
of Madame Bule were not of such a nature as to
render it of the smallest consequence whether
they are or are not divulged; neither, even if
they were more important, can they possibly
now affect the penitents in the smallest point.
I shall therefore venture to inform my readers of
what passed that morning in the Church be-
tween me and those of the young ladies of the
establishment with whose names and descrip-
tions I have made them acquainted. Susette
was the first who was brought to me, and when
she appeared, the traces of tears were upon her
Daughter, I said, you are sad; what has
afflicted you? Open your whole heart to me,
and be assured that the counsel I shall give you
shall be to your advantage. She immediately
burst into tears, and, speaking passionately,
made it appear that injustice was done to her by
her companions, especially by Fanchon.

Fanchon, she added, who was once my dear-
est friend, is turned against me, and that because
she is jealous of me. Some persons think me
handsomer than she is, and she cannot endure a
rival, and she bears herself maliciously and
spitefully towards me; and if she can find
a flaw in my conduct she is pleased, and makes
it a rule to exhibit it, and to make little errors
appear in the light of serious offences.
I shall not repeat all I said to her on this
subject. No doubt my advice, though in some
points good, was mingled with error, for I re-
member well that, after having pointed out to
her the beauty of charity, and recommended the
exercise of it towards her companions, I added,
for know you not my daughter, that charity remits
sin, and gives spiritual life to the soul." By
which assertion I set charity in the place of the
Saviour, and gave to our good deeds the power
of redeeming us from the consequence of our
Sevil ones; whereby I denied the words of Holy
Scripture, for are we not taught that man is not
justified by the works of the law, but by the faith
of Jesus Christ ? (Galatians ii. 16.)
In reply to what I had said, Susette answer-

ed with a frankness which was natural to her.
She acknowledged that she had a considerable
portion of pride, and that she could neither bear
a rival amongst her school-fellows, nor refrain
from despising those whom she thought her in-
feriors. She spoke again of Fanchon as of one
whom she looked upon with envy and jealousy;
and amongst others whom she heartily despised
she mentioned Aimne. In reply to all which 1
told her that pride was counted by the Church
among the seven deadly sins. Pride," I said,
"is an inordinate love and esteem of our own
worth and excellence-it is a mortal sin, and
can only be remitted by hearty contrition and
the sacraments of baptism and penance."
At the word penance Susette started, as under
fear; on which I spoke soothingly to her, and
added that she need not be afraid, that I would
not be severe.
The sacrament of penance, my daughter, 1
remarked, consists of three parts, contrition, con-
fession, and satisfaction.
The tears of contrition I have seen on your
features; you have performed the duty of con-
fession; and what now remains to be done is

And in what, asked Susette hastily, does this
duty of satisfaction consist ?
In what I shall require of you to do, I an-
Then, dear Father Raffr6, she answered, you
surely will not make me ask pardon of little
Aimde, or seek a reconciliation with Fanchon
-and she looked imploringly at me.
I shall exact of you, I replied, before I cart
venture to give you absolution, that satisfaction
which the Church requires. "For satisfaction,
which is the third part of the sacrament of pen-
ance, is a faithful performance of the prayers or
good works enjoined by the priest to whom the
penitent confesses."
I am willing, father, she replied, to repeat as
many prayers as you could desire.
Be it so, my daughter, I answered: and I
know not how many Ave Marias and Pater-
nosters I enjoined, to be repeated before the
image of the virgin in the closet of Madame Bul6,
before the hour of mass on the following day:
and thus having slightly healed the wound of
my penitent, or rather administered fresh subject
for future self-satisfaction to one who was al-


ready but too well pleased with herself, and, as
it were, added fuel to the fire I should have
sought to have quenched, I dismissed Susette,
and proceeded to confess her rival, who soon
afterwards entered the Chuch and approached
the confessional.
The confession of Fanchon was but a repeti-
tion to that of Susette, with this difference only,
that this second penitent was more reserved and
guarded in her acknowledgment of error than
the former had been. I was in consequence
less satisfied with her, and doubled her portion
of Ave Marias and Paternosters, giving her also
for the performance of her service the gloom of
evening, instead of the bright morning hours;
and this young lady being withdrawn, I request-
ed that Aim6e might be brought to me.
There was some interval between the depart-
ure of Fanchon (with whom Madame Bul had
gone out) and the entrance of Aimde. I was
left alone, and the scene was an impressive one.
The Church was an ancient gothic edifice, rich-
ly decorated with carved figures and ornaments.
I was in a chapel of the virgin, which was sit-
uated at the end of a long arched aisle all was

motionless around me, and no sound was heard
but the soft low murmuring of the wind among
the towers and battlements ; my mind was full
of what had just passed, and the anxious inquiry
of Susette respecting what satisfaction I should
require of her recurred to my thoughts. It was
very natural, I perceived, that she should expect
me to insist on her seeking a reconciliation with
those whom she had offended, common sense
dictated such a satisfaction, and common justice
required it; but the Church (to which I then be-
longed) had demanded no such hard service-
to put its votaries out of humour with themselves
was no part of its policy. In the case in ques-
tion I had acted as a faithful son of the Church,
I had regarded its interest; and the question
was suggested to my mind, had I or had I not
applied a remedy which would have the smallest
efficacy in humbling a haughty spirit ? Is then
the policy of my Chuch calculated merely to
promote the pleasure and present comfort of its
votaries, and to quiet and soothe the conscience,
or to remedy the real evil of our fallen nature ?
I endeavoured to repress and banish these
thoughts which appeared to me almost blasphe-

mous. I crossed myself, and.looking up to the
image of the virgin, repeated the angel's saluta-
tion, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the
Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among wo-
men: to which I added, in Latin, Hail Mary
full of grace, the Lord is with thee ; blessed art
thou amongst women. Holy Mary, mother of
God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour
of our death.-Amen."
I had scarcely concluded this prayer when a
soft footfall sounded along the aisle, and turning
round, I saw a small figure just entering through
the narrow side door of the Church. It was
Aimee; she was dressed in white, and the air
from without agitated her flaxen ringlets and
snowy drapery as she advanced towards me,
giving almost an ethereal lightness to her ap-
pearance. At one moment, as she passed under
each archway, a deep shade was cast on her
figure, and again a golden light was shed upon
it, as she traversed those portions of the pave-
ment on which the rays of the sun descended
through the richly-decorated windows above.
The purity and beauty of this infant figure, to-
gether with the innocent expression of her gentle

eye, as she ascended the steps of the little chap-
el at the door of which I was standing, and look-
ed up to me half timidly, yet as it were in the
noble consciousness of having nothing to con-
ceal, suggested to my mind the idea of some
blessed spirit just restored to its glorified body,
and ascending from the grave to mount to that
place of happiness which is prepared for the re-
deemed. The ideal resemblance was presently
heightened in my imagination by the beautiful
smile which illuminated every feature, and spark
led in her eye, as I extended my hand to her,
and said solemnly, "the Saviour of men, and the
Lord of angels bless my little girl, and as she is
called the beloved on earth, may she be truly the
beloved inheaven." I then took my usual place,
and invited her to confession, by asking her to
account to me for the scene of the past night
This question led to many others and in the end
I obtained from the lovely child the following
narrative of her short but till then comparatively
perfect course, for indeed the words of the wise
man could never have been more justly applied
than to this blameless infant: "He being made
perfect in a short time, fulfilled for a long time

for his soul pleased the Lord; therefore hasted
he to take him away from among the wicked."
I was born in England, said the sweet child.
I remember well my native place, it was a white
house, and there were woods near it, and a gar-
den full of flowers; the house stood on a side
of a hill, and from the windows we saw flocks
feeding in the green fields, and blue hills at a
distance, and villages and groves of trees, and
the woods were so near us that when the win-
dows were open in the summer, we heard the
wind rustling among the trees, and blackbirds
and linnets singing in the branches, and waters
rushing, and bees humming. My father used to
bid me hearken to these sounds, and now I
never hear sounds like these without thinking of
my home. My parents were alive then, my dear
father, continued the little girl, and my mother,
my kind mother, I remember her dressing room,
and her guitar, and her cabinet. And I had a
brother too, he was two years older than myself,
he had golden hair, and soft bright eyes ; and I
had a very little sister too, and when she was
asleep she looked like an angel; but she died
first, and then, sir, (and the poor little girl burst

into tears,) then grief came ; my little sister died,
and my brother died-it was a fever; and I was
taken away and was never sent home again; and
my parents are dead too, and I am here. I was
brought to this place I know not wherefore, and
I have no home in England to return to: and
the child wiped away a few tears, and then
looked up again, as if awaiting my farther ques
And are you happy here, Aimee ? I asked.
Yes, father, she replied; Madame is very
kind to me.
And have you nothing to complain of? I asked
None, father, she replied, if I might have my
book again.
Why do you love that book so much? I asked.
It was my brother's, she replied; and she
wept again. May I not have it?
But it is not a proper book, Aim6e, I said;
and I think you know that it is not proper, other-
wise why did you go into a retired place to read
it ?
I always do, she answered.
And why do you, I asked, if you do not think
you are doing wrong when reading that book ?


Because nobody here cares for the things
that are in that book, she answered mildly; and
those are the things which makes me happy.
What things, I asked ?
The things I learned when I was a baby-I
cannot forget them, she replied.
I again asked, What things ?
The things papa and mama taught me, father,
she answered.
Please to explain yourself, Aimee, I said
What things did your parents teach you
They taught me that my heart is bad, sir,
and that I can do nothing good without God's
Go on, I said.
And that God had sent his Son to die for me,
and his Holy Spirit to make me good ; and they
taught me to read-and told me that I was to
love my Bible, and follow all that is written in it.
But how, I asked, can a child like you under-
stand the Bible ?
I don't know, father, she meekly answered.
Do you, pretend to say that you do understand
it I asked, and drew her near to me as I sat.

I have not got a large Bible, she answered;
there are only small parts of the Bible in my
little book; but even my little Bible tells me
many pleasant things.
What pleasant things, Aimde? I asked.
It tells me, she replied, what my Saviour has I
done for me, and I find in it the promises of that
happy world where I shall enjoy a home more
pleasant than that which I have lost, and see
papa and my mamma, and my brother and sister
again. And sometimes, when I have been read-
ing that little book all alone in the garden, or
wherever I can get unseen, by any but the eye
of God, I have had such sweet dreams and such
delightful thoughts ; I fancy I see the world in
that time when Christ shall be king over all the
earth. And then I see places like what I re-
membered of my happy home, and my papa and
my mama, and brother and sister, all glorious
like angels, and the Lord Jesus Christ in com-
pany with them, and I am so glad to see them
happy-and every thing that is pleasant in this
place brings these things fresher into my mind ; \
and there is a valley, sir, in the forest, which I
often visited last summer, which reminds me too


of these things. And when I hear music, or
the bells ringing, or the organ at mass, all these
things fill my.heart with pleasure and make me
wish that the time would come when I might go
to my dear parents; but I know that I ought not
to be impatient to leave this world, where you
and Madame and so many people are kind to me.
You talked of much kindness, Aim6e, I said;
have you no unkindness to complain of? have
you no feelings of malice or envy in your heart?
you know that if you have such feelings it is
your duty to confess them.
She looked very earnestly at me, and repeated
the word malice, as if she did not understand its
meaning, or at any rate as if she did not take in
the purport of my question.
To be plain with you, Aim6e, I said, are the
young ladies your companions so kind to you
that you never feel any thing like anger or ill-
will towards them? are you in charity with
every one ?
They were cross with me last night, my fath-
er, she answered.
And are they not so often ? I asked.
I don't think they are, she replied.


That is, you do not think much about them ?
I said.
I do, she replied; I love them, yes, I hope I
love them.
Then you have not perceived that they are
unkind to you ? I added.
Not to me particularly, she answered; they
sometimes quarrel a little amongst themselves;
but is not that what we must expect? Are not
our hearts bad, father, and do we not all do,
wrong at times? but when they are cross I
think of my happy home, and then I do not mind
it; and I have such delight sometimes when I
am alone in my room and see the sun set, and
think of that distant time when I shall be with
my beloved Saviour, as I could not describe.
Then it is because your mind is fixed on the
world which is to come, that you do not enter
into the quarrels of your companions. My little
Aimee, I said, if this be the true state of the
case, you are a happy child, indeed, happy and
blessed beyond all the children I have ever
known; and tell me, my little girl, how long
your mind has been thus devoted to heavenly
things ?


I do nut think that I am devoted to heavenly
things, she replied; for I am not good, and peo-
ple who are devoted are good. I have heard
Madame say so; but it is now many months
since my parents died, and since I lost my broth-
er and sister, and from that time I have never
had so much pleasure in any thing as in thinking
of the time when I shall see my relations again;
and I know that I never shall see them unless I
love my Saviour, and am enabled to obey him;
and these thoughts are always coming to my
mind, and I cannot get rid of them.
And why, my little fair one, I answered
should you wish to get rid of them ? Do they
not make your happiness, and do they not mark
your call to a holy life ? But think you not, my
daughter, that if you were to intercede with the
holy virgin and the blessed saints, that they
would join their prayers with yours, and that
you might in this manner more easily obtain all
that you desire? and I pointed to the image
above the altar, and directed the child to observe
the mild and beautiful expression of the counte-
nance of her whom I then called my Lady.
That image cannot hear me, she replied.

But she whom it represents namely, the holy
Mary, can and will hear you, Aimec, I answer-
ed; she will unite her prayers with yours, in
order that all you ask may be granted you.
Was not she a woman? said the little girl
She was, I replied; "but as our Lord was
truly God, so she, his mother, was the mother
of God, and therefore is worthy that we should
address our prayers to her."
The little girl looked down upon the pavement,
but did not speak till I had repeated some part
of what I had before said; she then lifted up
her gentle eyes, and asked, Do you pray to the
saints, my father? Is it right to pray to them ?
My mama told me that there is no other name
under heaven by which we can be saved but.
that of our Lord Jesus Christ.



I HAVE before hinted that I had already had
some little misgivings respecting the foundation
of my faith ; and at that instant such a gleam of
light shot through my hitherto darkened soul,
that I could not answer the child. I remained
silent and confused, whilst the little one stood
meekly before me, being wholly unconscious of
my embarrassment. The tolling of the clock
was at that moment heard from the tower of the
Church; I availed myself of it to say that I had
an engagement which demanded my immediate
attention, and bestowing a rapidly pronounced
blessing on the little girl, I hastened from the
Church, assuring her that I would not only pro-
cure the little book for her, but obtain permission
for her to study it whenever she pleased. I
spent the remainder of that day in the solitude of
my study. This little girl is a heretic, I said to
myself; what our Church indeed calls such;
but there is no malice or bitterness in her heresy;

she has not yet even discovered how widely our
religion differs from her own, there is therefore
no prejudice mingled in her mind with her pre-
possessions. She takes her faith entirely from
the Bible as she has been taught to do by her
excellent parents ; and surely if the fruit is to
prove the nature of the tree, we cannot doubt,
from the beauty of the fruit which this dear child
is able to produce, that the root is excellent.
Whilst meditating on these subjects, I took a
dusty Latin Bible, which had once belonged to
a priest of the Church of Geneva, from its shelf
in my study, and began to compare its contents
with the received doctrines of our Church, and
was struck with the comparison of Matthew xv.
19, Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, mur-
ders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false wit-
ness, blasphemies; with the following clause in
our Catechism, namely, Is it possible to keep
them all? (speaking of the commandments.) An-
swer. It is, by God's grace; Zacharias and
Elizabeth were both just before God, walking in
all the commandments of God, without reproof."
I felt more and more confounded whilst medita-
ting on these things ; and the result of these re-


flections was, that I resolved not to speak even
to Madame Buld of the heretical state, as I then
apprehended it to be, of the little Aimbe.
Under this embarrassment of mind I remained
in my study several days, or walked in the most
solitary places I could find, meditating on many
things. In the meantime, Susette and Fanchon
havingwiped away their offences, as they thought,
by the repetition of the prescribed modicum of
Ave Marias and Paternosters, returned, not in
the least humbled thereby, to their usual situa-
tions in the school room, where presently they
failed not to administer fresh cause of dissatisfac-
tion to each other, which being taken up by the
parties on either side, the whole household was
shortly again all in flames; and Madame Bul6
found it more difficult than ever to set things in
order. After various admonitions, all of which
she found inefficient, the worthy lady sent a
second time for me, and I undertook to admonish
the young people in a discourse, which, accord-
ingly, I delivered in an apartment of the house
set aside for purposes of this kind, where I had
formerly given many lectures on different sub-
jects to the young people.

I took the text or motto of my discourse from
the various beauties exhibited in a highly-culti-
vated garden. I understand, my daughters, I
said, that your minds have lately been painfully,
and I may say sinfully, agitated by envious feel-
ings respecting each other, and by the vain desire
of outshining and surpassing each other in those
qualities which you esteem admirable in a human
creature. Of the sinfulness of these feelings,
my dear daughters (I continued,) I need not
speak; but on their folly I will enlarge, inas-
much as it seems that you are not aware of this
folly. The Almighty is not so partial a parent
that he has not bestowed some beautiful and ex-
cellent quality on each of his children. Look
at the flowers in that blooming parterre which
extends itself beneath the window! amongsi
these some attract the eye from a distance, some
shed powerful odours in the air, some are en-
dowed with healing qualities, some retire from
the view and are only admirable when closely
inspected ; some excel in only one point, some
in several, some in every quality attributable to
the vegetable creation; but all are so exquisite
in their way, so perfect in their conformation

and their internal construction, that the utmost
art of man would endeavour in vain to imitate
the simplest, the most humble flower amongst
them. Go forth into the forest and observe the
leaves of the trees, compare them one with an-
other ; remark the delicacy of their texture, the
infinite variety of their forms, and make a com-
parison, if it lies in your power, of the beauty
of one with that of another; say, if you can,
that one is worthy of admiration and another of
contempt; that one is surpassingly fair and an-
other despicably ugly. And such are each and
all of you, my fair daughters ; all and each of
you have some beauty, some perfection, some
lovely quality, external or internal, which sets
you more on a par with each other than an in-
considerate observer would at first suppose:
thus the rose of this parterre has no cause to
triumph over the violet, neither has the tulip any
occasion to envy the whiteness of the lily.
Having finished my exordium much to my
own satisfaction, though I believe with little ef-
fect upon my audience, I withdrew, and that
very evening met Madame Bule at the chateau,
where Madame la Baronne happening to men-

tion that she intended to give an entertainment
to the young ladies on the day of her fAte (her
birth-day,) Madame Bul thought it necessary
to tell her, the state of her family as it regarded
the jealousies and rivalries which subsist among
her pupils.
Madame la Baronne smiled at this state of af-
fairs, and after some reflection said, Make my
compliments to your young ladies, Madame Bule,
and invite them on my part to the chateau.
Tell them that my fete this year is to be called
the Feast of the flowers, and that I shall expect
each young lady to appear adorned with a gar.
land or wreath of her favourite flower ; adding,
I shall bestow a crown on that young lady whose
ornaments please me best; and lest, she added,
that my taste should be disputed, there shall be
a motto woven with the myrtle of which my
crown is to be composed, which shall signify
the rule by which I am to make my selection.
Madame BuI6 assured Madame la Baronne
that her message should be faithfully delivered ;
and I was very solicitous to know of the lady
what was to be the import of her motto.
I assure you, father, she replied, that it shall


be one you shall not dare to disapprove; but
lest you should give a hint to some little favour-
ite you may have, I cannot tell you. I was
therefore obliged, after having shrugged up my
shoulders several times, to acquiesce in my ig-
Madame Bul4 did not fail to inform the young
ladies of the kind invitation of the Baronne; and
the next day, when these young people had con-
cluded their morning exercises, an envoy was
sent to request my company at the collation, in
order that I might be consulted respecting pre-
paration for the Feast of the Flowers.
As soon as I arrived, various questions were
put to me by one and by another, to many of
which I was not able to answer.
To whom, said one, does Madame la Baronne
mean to give the crown, to the one who has the
fairest garland, or to the one whom otherwise
she likes best.
With respect to the beauty of the garland, I
answered, it might perhaps be hard to judge;
tastes may differ; one person may think that no
wreath can be compared to that which is formed
of roses, whilst another perhaps might prefer a
garland of jessamine as being more elegant.

Then you do not suppose, said another of my
inquirers, that she will bestow the crown on her
who has the fairest wreath ?
Indeed I cannot tell, I replied.
You are in the secret, we know, Father Raf-
frN, said Mademoiselle Victoire, we are sure of
Well, it may be so, I answered ; but you shall
none of you be the better for my knowledge. I
will for once keep what I know to myself.
Mademoiselle would have been angry at this,
had I cared for her anger, but as I did not, she
proceeded to discourse the choice of the garlands
with her favourite pupils.
Each one was, it was understood, to select
a different flower, and the eldest chose first;
Susette chose the rose; Fanchon would, she
said, be royal, and adorn herself with the lily ;
a third selected the jessamine ; a fourth a white
thorne. The laurel, the honey-suckle, the sweet
scented clematis, the convolvulus, and the orange
flower, were none of them forgotten; and as
there was a fortnight to elaps before the day of
the fete, great pains were taken to nourish and
preserve such flowers as might then be required
to add beauty and fragrance to the festival.

It was on the eve of the fete, as I was walk-
ing with Madame Bule in one of the avenues in
her garden, being in deep conversation on sub-
jects which at that time exercised our minds, in
common with many.others-subjects which had
indeed some tendencies to what our Church
would have deemed heretical; for my opinion on
many of our doctrines were beginning to be more
and more confused-when we suddenly heard
several angry voices, proceeding from an arbour,
in the centre of which was a circular range of
seats, where the young people often assembled
during the hours of leisure. Standing still and
looking through the openings of the trees, we
saw several of the lesser children gathered round
Aim6e, who had formed a small wreath for her
waxen baby from an azure flowering creeper
which hung in festoons from an archway of lat-
tice work at the entrance of the arbour. The
exclamations of rapture uttered by the lesser
children had, it seems, attracted the attention of
Susette, Fanchon, and several others of the
larger girls ; and Susette had expressed so much
admiration of the wreath, as to declare that after
all, Aimbe had made the best choice, and that


there was no wreath hitherto thought of that
would prove so light and beautiful as that she
had chosen. It was just at the moment she
had uttered this opinion, when Madame and I
stood to listen to what was passing.
The little sly thing said Fanchon. I doubt
not but that she had a wreath of this kind always
in her mind, and that she would not mention it,
lest any of her elders should have insisted on
taking it from her.
If she had such an intention, she would have
done well to have waited a little longer, said
Susette; for it is not now too late for us her el-
ders to change our minds. I am out of humour
with the idea of wearing red roses ; I have been
thinking this very day that I should prefer ano-
ther colour for my wreath ; I like that beautiful
azure, and I will wear it; and therefore, my little
lady, you must please to look for some other
ornament for yourself.
I am content, replied Aim6e, meekly: adding,
if you approve it, Mademoiselle, I will help you
to make your garland.
And what will you wear yourself? said Su-
sette: you shall, if you please, adopt the rose I
have relinquished.


I beg your pardon, Susette, says Fanchon:
there is no one who can come before me but
yourself; you have given up the rose, and I
claim it. I here give notice, that to-morrow I
shall wear a garland of roses ; and, as we are
all to be different, no one else is to dare to as-
sume even a rose bud.
So violent an altercation then ensued between
the rivals, that Madame Bule thought it neces-
sary to interfere; and requiring each of the rival
ladies to declare the name of the flower she
meant to adopt, she desired that no change of
plans might henceforth be resorted to. She did
not, however, insist upon the blue wreath being
relinquished to Aimbe, as I should have thought
but just: it was evident that she was under some
dread of Susette and Fanchon, and was afraid of
provoking them too far; and it certainly was not
my business to interfere, neither did I think the
matter of sufficient consequence to induce me so
to do.
Susette accordingly declared again for her
wreath of roses, while Fanchon adopted that of
the azure creeper, which was in fact a most ele-
gant ornament. Madame and I then withdrew;


but I had scarcely reached the garden gate on
my way home, when I was overtaken by Aimde,
who, placing her little hand within mine, said,
My'father, you walk out, I think, every morning
before breakfast.
I do, my child, I answered.
Will you permit me to accompany you to-mor-
row ? said the little girl. I have obtained per-
mission from Madame. Will you take me to
the forest?
Most willingly, I replied. But for what pur-
pose, my child ?
She smiled, and with a sweet innocent air,
repeated these words of an ancient balled of her
own province:-
The garden is gay with the gaudy weed,
And attired like the jewell'd queen;
But the flowers of the forest are fair indeed,
Though oftimes doom'd to blow unseen.
The words, Charming little creature, what
innocent device has that gentle bosom now con-
ceived ? were upon my lips; but I did not utter
my thoughts, and simply answered, I will be at
the garden gate before six o'clock to-morrow
morning, my little fair one ; be sure that you are


The dew was still upon the herbage, and
glistened on every leaf, as I knocked at the gar-
den gate ; it was opened to me at the first signal
by the little maiden, she ran out to me all pre-
pared for her appointment, with a neat basket in
her hand.
Good morning, fair one, I said; a blessing
from above be upon my little girl! But whither
are we to bend our steps ?
To the forest, my father, she replied, where I
know of certain deep shades in which those
flowers grow of which I wish to make my gar-
land. I only feared that some other person
might have thought of these flowers of the forest,
which arn my delight, and have claimed a first
right to them, but they have not entered into the
mind of any one; and now no one can take
them from me.
Oh! oh! I said, smilingly, you have, I see
been acting a cunning part, my little one.
Cunning! she repeated: ah, Father Raffr6,
that is an ugly word; do not call me cunning.
I would rather wear asphodel, than be called a
cunning girl.
And why not wear a wreath of asphodel, I
askLtPd. 6*


Because it is bitter, very bitter, she replied.
But, continued she, was there any harm in my
thinking of a flower and not mentioning it, lest
it should be chosen ? I would not be cunning,
indeed I would not, for the whole world; and I
have no pretentious to that crown of myrtle
which the lady is to bestow, indeed I have not;
but I wished for my favourite flowers for a very
particular reason.
What may be that very particular reason ? I
I will give you my reason, father, she answer-
ed, when you have seen my favourite flower;
but I must tell you that the discourse you made
to us about a fortnight since was what led me to
think of these things ; and then I remembered a
hymn which I had learned when I lived at my
happy home, and some things which my dear
papa taught me when I was a very little child,
and I put all these things together, and when I
heard of the feast of the flowers, I then fixed
upon the garland I should like to wear, though
I did not suppose it would have been left for me.
Indeed,-my Aim6e, I answered, you must be
a little plainer before I can understand you;


please to explain yourself; of what things did
my discourse lead you to think ? and how was
what I said connected with what your father
had taught you, and with the hymn you had
learned ? Please to explain all these matters to
You compared us, sir, replied the little girl, to
so many flowers growing in the garden and
what my dear papa taught me when I was a
little child was this, that the Church of God in
this world is compared in the Bible to a garden,
in which grow all sorts of beautiful plants and
flowers; he taught me the very verses, and I
have not forgotten them.
Repeat them, if you please, my dear child, I
said: for although I confessed it not, I knew so
so little of Scripture as to be utterly ignorant of
that beautiful passage to which the child alluded.
She immediately obeyed, and repeated what
"A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse;
a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Thy plants
are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant
fruits; camphire, with spikenard; spikenard and
saffron ; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees


of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the
chief spices ; a fountain of gardens, a well of
living waters, and streams from Lebanon."-
Songs of Solomon, iv. 12-15.
Very beautiful, I replied, and well remember-
ed; but tell me who it is that is supposed to re-
peat this passage ?
She answered, Our Saviour, sir, and he speaks
it of his Church.
Then you imagine, I replied, that the garden
enclosed is the true Church, and all the plants
therein are the people.
Yes, sir, she said; those who love God are
the plants growing in this garden, and some of
them are small and of less beauty, others supply
pleasant fruit, others are good only for shade,
others are very lovely to look at, and others fill
the air with sweet odours, but altogether they
make the garden very beautiful, and none are to
be despised.
And do you suppose, Aim6e, I asked, that
you yourself are one of the members of this
She hesitated a little, and at length said, I
desire to be one, and I hope I am; but I know


that my place, if I have a place in this happy
garden, is a very low one; down in some very
deep valley, and under shade, and out of sight.
I think I should not do so well if I were to be
removed to the higher parts of the garden, and
clothed with many colours, and made to be an
object of admiration, for when I am praised I
become vain, and take less delight in holy things
than when I am not noticed.
I was on the very point of commending the
ideas of this little girl, when her last remark
gave me a timely check, and I simply said, Ap-
parently your parents took much pains to give
you instruction.
It was the Bible they used to make me under-
stand, she answered, and when they taught me
any thing in the Bible, they showed me some
thing out of doors by which I was to remember
it; and by this means, now that they are gone
away, every thing almost which I see when I
walk abroad, reminds me of something I learned
when I was a baby.
That is, I said, they took pains to associate
natural with spiritual things, and by this beauti-
ful mode of instruction they have succeeded in

impressing their holy lessons so strongly on
your mind that you never can forget them. Let
me tell you, my daughter, that you have reason
to bless God for having given you such parents.
Two gentle tears dropped from her eyes as I
spoke; and at the same moment my conscience
reproved me for having bidden a child to thank
God for having given her parents who were
heretics and then again such doubts arose in
my mind respecting my own principles, and their
foundation in truth, that I walked on a consider-
able way in silence.



WE had left the village and the chateau be-
hind us, and were entering on the borders of the
forest, before I extricated myself from the per-
plexing thoughts in which I was involved. At
length, as we passed under the shade of the
trees which skirted the wood, I recollected my-
self, and said, Aim6e, where are you leading
me ? How far are we to go ?
Are you tired, father? she said. If you wish
it I will go no farther; I can make a wreath of
any flower I see in the hedges.
Tired, my dear child, I said, tired in your
company No, little sweet one, I could take you
by the hand and travel the world over with you!
but you have raised some anxious thoughts in
my mind. I have been considering what place
I occupy in that garden of which we have been
speaking. She made no answer. I know.not
what she thought, but she took my hand and
kissed it with a courtesy and tenderness which

in one so young was peculiarly beautiful. I
think she had a religious dread of flattering me
on a subject so important, yet was anxious to
show her gratitude and affection.
We passed on, and for the space of a quarter
of a mile, pursued a beautiful path which leads
through the centre of the wood. At length
coming to a spot where the shade was exceed-
ingly thick, she pointed to a very narrow path-
way which put itself into the road, and asked
me if I should object to follow her. I knew the
path, it led to a small but deep valley, at the bot-
tom of which ran a pure cold stream. But I
was surprised at its being so well known to the
child, and asked her how she came to be so well
acquainted with the windings of the forest.
Last summer, she replied, I was sent, after an
illness, for change of air to a cottage in these
woods, and then I learned to know where beau-
tiful flowers grow, and sweet birds sing; and I
have not forgotten these places, she added,
smiling, and tripping lightly before me.
But my little guide in her glee had forgotten,
that where she c.uld pass with ease, I being
taller and larger, would find a thousand obstacles.

Accordingly, when she told me that she had but
a very little way to go for the accomplishment
of her object, I bade her hasten forward, while
I followed at my leisure, and in consequence I
soon lost sight of her; but still pursuing the
same wild and tangled path into which she had
led me, I presently arrived at a more open part
of the forest, from whence I looked down upon
a dingle, in the bottom of which was a pool, and
on the side of the pool a sward, which, from its
smooth deep green, intimated the moisture of
the place. A ruined cottage, of which the gable
end and door-way alone remained entire, peeped
out from amid the trees and underwood. The
rays of the morning sun shot slantingly over the
forest, and shed a flickering, trembling light on
the whole scene, presenting the most beautiFul
varieties of light and shadow. This also was a
place for the sweet singing of birds, and for bal-
my zephyrs, which, as they passed, produced
that agitation of the leaves which, together with
the rushing of a waterfall, heard but not seen,
filled my senses with a degree of delight I had
not often experienced. At the moment when I
had reached the brow of the dell, my little guide

appeared near the bottom, springing like the ga-
zelle, from one rude steep to another, and anon
I beheld her stooping down to gather certain
flowers which grew here and there on the green
sward. The rude trunk of a tree near which I
stood formed a convenient seat; I placed myself
upon it, and quietly awaited the return of the
little fair one. A quarter of an hour had hardly
elapsed, when I saw her reascending the rocky
side of the glen, and presently she stood before
me, glowing with delight. At my feet she set
her basket, which, was filled with that lovely
flower we call the muguet, better known by its
more appropriate name, the lily of the valley.;
There, my father, she said, there are the flow-
ers which are to compose my garland; and
those are the flowers I would choose for my de-
vice. The rose, added the little girl in high
glee, is the emblem of beauty, the laurel of glory,
the heartsease of content, and the jessamine of
innocence-but what are all these without my
lily of the valley. Tell me, dear father,, what is
any good quality without humility ?
Aimee, I said, in amazement and admiration,
not only of the sentiments of this charming child,


but of the elegant manner in which she express-
ed them, Aim6e, my little one, who taught you
all this ?
She looked innocently upon me, and said, papa
and mama used to instruct me in these things;
it was poor papa who taught me that the lily of
the valley was the type of humility, and some-
times when I pleased him he called me his lily.
Ah, sir, I wish I were really like the lily ; for
the lily loves the cool valley and shadowy places
by the streams of living waters.
Sweet child, I answered, you are indeed a
lily of the valley. Would to God, and I crossed
myself as I spoke, would to God I were a lily
too !
No, sir, no, she replied, you shall not be a lily,
but you shall be a noble tree, planted by the
water side, and I will dwell under your shade.
I was affected-I could not help it; the tear
trembled in my eye ; which the little girl observ-
ing, she stooped down and kissed my hand, at
the same time taking up her basket. Having
obtained what we wanted, we turned our steps
towards our home, and as we went along we re-
marked other flowers growing in the forest;

among these the wind anemone and the partt-
coloured vetch particularly attracted our atten-
tion, and we wondered that things so beautiful
should have been formed in places where none
saw and none admired ; and this led me to speak
of the infinite goodness of God, and of his bounty
towards the children of men.
At length we reached our village, and parting
at the garden-gate, I retired to my study to ex-
amine the Holy Bible respecting those passages
to which my little companion had alluded. And
in that long quiet day, a day never to be forgot-
ten by me, such convictions flashed upon my
mind respecting, the errors of my Church, that
before the evening hour I was almost, if not en-
tirely, as much what my people would have
called a heretic, as I now am, although I had
not yet made up my mind to acknowledge my
belief, and give up all for the truth.
Scarcely had the ardent heat of the day sub-
sided, when, according to appointment, I repair-
ed to the chateau; where, on my having passed
the avenue of linden trees, which then extended
from the gate of the domain to the lawn in front
of the mansion, I entered upon a scene which


chased away, fcr a time, the perplexing thoughts
by which I had been agitated during the greater
part of the morning. Figure to yourselves, my
gentle readers, an ancient, many-windowed, stone
mansion, whose fashion spoke of at least two
centuries past, in the almost perpendicular roof
of which were three tiers of windows, peeping
out from the moss-covered tiles, closed with
wooden shutters instead of casements. In the
front of this ancient, and in some respects dila-
pidated mansion, extended the lawn, in the cen-
tre of which was a square marble basin, where
a huge triton spouted water from a cone to the
height of many feet, affording rather the idea
than the reality of freshness. On each side of
the lawn, yet answering exactly to each other,
a statue, an arbour, and an archway of trellis
work opening into certain gardens beyond, alter-
nated with each other, according to the formal
taste then prevalent in my country. The lawn
was set forth with several long tables, covered
with fruit, cakes, cream and other refreshments;
while on an elevated scaffolding, near the centre
of the open space, was a band of musicians, who
from time to time gave us a national air, while


waiting the commencement of the dancing, which
was to take place towards the end of the evening.
The company for whom this fete was prepar-
ed were, without exception, every inhabitant of
the village who was able either to walk or to be
carried to the chateau, together with some su-
perior persons from the neighbourhood, who had
come by special invitation.-These, the superi-
ors of the party, were, with the Baronne, group-
ed at the upper end of the lawn, sitting, standing,
or moving about, as it suited them ; the inferior
persons being at the lower end or in the centre,
according to their stations in society, but all
seemed equally gay and happy; I saw not a
solemn countenance as I made my progress
round the circle. I had almost omitted to de-
scribe a very important part of the show, whereat
I much wonder, considering that it is the feast
of the flowers to which I am endeavoring to
bring my readers in imagination, and this was a
statue on a pedestal which stood exactly on a
line with the front of the house, at the bottom of
the lawn. This statue was a female one, and
therefore suited very well to serve as a repre-
sentation of the goddess Flora ; she was richly

decorated with garlands and wreaths, and on her
head was placed the crown of myrtle, through
which was twisted an azure riband, on which a
motto was wrought in threads of gold. The
crown on the statue was pointed out to me by
the persons who stood near it, and I attempted
to decipher the motto, if such there might be,
but I was not able, the riband was so curiously
twisted that I could only make out part of a word
here and there, and was therefore obliged to
rest in my ignorance.
The party were all assembled when I arrived
on the lawn, with the exception of the family of
Madame Bul, but while I was paying my com-
pliments to the baronne on the arrangement of
the scene, the excellent instructress and her nu-
merous train appeared at the end of the avenue.
There comes our queens of the May, said the
Baronne, and she ordered a beautiful and lively
air to be struck up, while she advanced with the
ladies and gentlemen of the party to meet the
elegant procession. And elegant indeed it was,
elegant and gay and various and fragrant. First
came Susette and Fanchon, the rival queens, all
attired in white, and decorated, the one with

rose buds, the other with the azure creeper be-
fore mentioned; ribands of rose colour and of
blue were mingled with the several garlands;
the next pair were the acanthus and the laurel,
with scarfs of green and purple; then came the
fragrant hyacinth and the auricula; the wood-
bine and the columbine adorned another smiling
pair; and as each lovely couple passed by the
group of ladies and gentlemen, they greeted and
were greeted by smiles and courtesies, as grace-
fully bestowed and received as if the lawn had
been a royal presence chamber, and the Baron-
ne a crowned head. As each lovely pair passed
the Baronne the parties separated, and formed a
variety of blooming and lovely groups around
the company, meriting and receiving that admi-
ration which was due to their smiling and charm-
ing figures, and the taste which each had dis-
played in the arrangement of her fragrant orna-
ments. The last of the procession was Madame
Buld herself, leading the youngest of her pupils
and little Aimde by the hand: the exercise and
excitement of the scene had given an extraordi-
nary lustre to the complexion of my little favour-
ite, yet her eyes retained their usually placid


and gentle expression. She seemed to be
attentive to what passed, and also pleased, but
there was not that restless anxiety in her coun-
tenance which was remarkable in all those
among her companions who thought they had
any chance of obtaining the crown; her enjoy-
ment of the scene was therefore as unmixed as
it had been when she was gathering her favourite
flowers in the depth of the forest. She, like the
rest of her companions, was attired in white,
and with no other head dress than those cluster-
ing ringlets, which together with the delicate
tincture of her skin, marked her Saxon ancestry.
She had formed a lovely garland of her lilies,
having woven them together with a band of light
green ribands, tied on her right shoulder with a
knot, and falling under her left arm. I saw the
eyes of the Baronne rest upon this lovely child
for a moment; but as soon as Madame Bull
dropped her hand, she receded into the back
ground, and her elegant form was soon wholly
shrouded by the more splendid figures of her
Our nation are remarkable for being able to
pay a compliment with grace and delicacy; and

what occasion, I would ask, could have admin-
istered fairer opportunities of doing this with
truth than the present? Neither were the gen-
tlemen, or even the ladies, then present, slow
in availing themselves of these opportunities;
every comparison or simile in which flowers
have any concern was called forth on the occa-
sion, and the exhilaration of the moment enabled
even the most dull to do this with effect. But
did I say dull? What Frenchwoman was ever
dull in a scene such as the lawn then presented ?
Your Feast of the Flowers, Madame la Ba-
ronne, said the Viscountesse de T- is
splendid, is superb-it surpasses all I could have
conceived of a thing of the kind. Yet I cannot
say that these elegant garlands add beauty to
these charming young ladies; I would rather
say that these flowers derive new splendour
from the beauty of those who wear them. And
she appealed for the confirmation of her asser-
tion to the Conte de S-- one of the few
specimens then remaining of the court of Louis
Being thus called upon, the old courtier en-
deavoured to produce some compliment of a su-


perior nature to that of the lady, and asserted
that the roses were grown pale, and the jessa-
mines yellow, for envy, to find that their bloom
and sweetness were entirely surpassed by those
who had chosen them for ornaments.
This species of light and trifling, conversation
had proceeded for some time, when the Baronne
took her place beneath the statue, and having
commanded the band to cease their strain, caused
the crown to be handed to her; while, by the
direction of Madame Bul, the young ladies for
med a half circle around her, the rest of the
company, of whatever degree they might be,
gathered close in the back ground.
There was a momentary pause and deep si-
lence in the company, while a servant climbed
upon the high pedestal of the statue and care-
fully lifted the crown from the head. It was
then delivered into the hands of the Baronne,
and as I stood next to her, I saw that it was a
beautiful thing; it was not of real myrtle, which
would presently have faided, but was an imita-
tion of myrtle, the leaves being formed of foil,
the flowers of gold and mother of pearl, and the
berries of coral; it was beautifully executed, and


the motto, in letters of gold, wrought on a blue
riband, twisted into the wreath. The Viscoun-
tesse de T- who stood on the right hand
of the Baronne, as I did on the left, would have
taken it for a moment into her own hands, ex-
claiming, Permit me, madame ah, how beauti-
ful it is perfectly captivating But the Baron-
ne would not part with it from her hand, nor
suffer the golden letters on the blue riband to be
I am, I feel, she said, in a perilous situation;
I am about to make a choice amidst so many
beauties, that I shall be in danger of incurring
the odium of possessing a bad taste in still re-
jecting the most worthy, let my choice fall where
it will; and I, therefore, have nothing but my
motto to depend upon to extricate me from this
difficulty, therefore none must see my motto till I
choose to show it myself.
The Baronne then paused, and looked around
her, and as her eyes ran along the lovely circle,
I saw that several of the young ladies changed
colour, especially the two at the head, namely,
Susette and Fanchon; and such was indeed the
charming bloom of one of these young ladies,


and the elegance of the other, that I never
doubted but that the crown would be adjudged
to one of them.
You are at a loss, Madame, I see, said the
Conte de S--, and I cannot wonder at your
embarrassment? there are so many beautiful
figures in this circle, that it would be very diffi-
cult to say to whom the golden apple ought to
be given.
Pardon me, replied the lady, in a voice which,
though low, was so distinct as to be heard by
all present, but you have mistaken my intention
-it is not on the most beautiful or the most ac-
complished, the fairest or the ruddiest, the most
witty or the most discreet, that my crown is to
be given, but to her who, in my opinion, under-
stands how to select the most becoming orna-
So far we understand Madame, said the Abb6,
nor would we be so impolite as to question your
taste. Madame la Baronne can never be sup-
posed to judge amiss in the eyes of persons of
discernment, but perhaps we may not all here
present be persons of discernment, and Madame
has undertaken to render every person in this

company satisfied with her decision, and she
depends upon her motto to stop the mouths of
every one. Indeed, Madame, unless your motto
is a very extraordinary one, I do declare, (and
he shrugged up his shoulders and smiled,) you
are in great peril. I am, I confess, in great
pain for you, Madame.
Well then, my friend, replied the Baronne, I
will hasten to place you at ease. Ladies and
gentlemen, you shall hear my motto, and I am
assured that no one here present will dispute its
authority when I assure them that it is divine,
and that it is taken from the Holy Scripture. So
saying she untwisted the riband from the myrtle
crown; and stating that the passage was ad-
dressed by St. Peter to his female converts,
she proceeded to read it in a soft, yet clear and
distinct voice ; it was to the following effect:-
Whose adorning let it not be that outward ador-
ning of plaiting the hair, or of wearing gold, or
putting on of apparel; but let it be the ornament
of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight
of God of great price.-1 Peter, iii, 3.



WHEN the Baronne had ceased to read, she
looked up, and her eyes were directed to Aimee.
The lily of the valley, she said, is the acknow-
ledged emblem of humility; this sweet flower
conceals its beauties within its verdant covering;
it is spotless, pure, and fragrant; its leaves have
a cooling and healing influence; it loves retire-
ment and shade,,yet when brought to view is
exquisitely lovely. The lily, therefore, I must
consider as the best chosen ornament for a youth-
ful female, and therefore 1 must adjudge my
crown to her that wears the lily.
There was a murmur of applause throughout
the assembly on this decision, and every eye
was fixed on the little girl, who came blushing
forward at the command of the lady.
Aim6e said the Baronne, as the lovely child
bowed humbly before her, I rejoice that I can,
with a sincere feeling of love and esteem, bestow
on you this simple preference; your character


has long been known to me, and the purity,
humility, and harmlessness of your conduct,
since you entered the family of Madame Bul6,
has not only been noticed by me, but has filled
me with admiration. In those talents and ex-
ternal qualities which are pleasing in our sex
you have many equals now present, and you will
thoroughly understand, that the regard I now
express has no reference to these qualities; it is
your holy humility and harmlessness, your ex-
emption from envy, and your freedom from bad
passions which are your chief and crowning
ornament, even that ornament which is above all
So saying, she raised the myrtle crown above
the head of Aim6e, and was about to place it
there, when the little girl, bending low, and fall-
ing on one knee, in a manner which I thought
exceedingly graceful, raised her lovely eyes to
the lady and said, Ah, Madame, could I wear
that crown I should prove to all here assembled,
what is but too true, that I have not deserved it.
I desire, indeed, to be like the lily ; but I am
not so. I know my own heart ; I know that it'
is full of evil passions, and if I do not betray


these evil passions so often as I feel them, it is
not to my own strength I dare to give the glory.
My dear lady, do not put the crown upon my
There was a dead silence in the assembly,
every one was impressed with solemn feeling:
at length it was broken by the lady, who said,
while holding the myrtle wreath over the head
of the kneeling child, Aimee, my beloved, indeed
you must not resist our united entreaties, you
must submit to wear the honour you have so
justly merited.
Ah, no, lady, dear lady she replied, lifting
up her face as she knelt, with a sweet and un-
affected earnestness; no, no it cannot be ; and
at the same time gently removing the garland of
lilies from her shoulders and laying it on the
grass at the Baroness's feet. I am neither
worthy to wear the lily nor the crown ; sweet
lady, place the crown upon the garland, and then
I will endeavour to merit both; at least, she ad-
ded, if not in life, yet perhaps in death, for then
-then shall I be- But we could not catch
the last part of the sentence, for the little girl
was unable to speak clearly by reason of her
tears. 8*

Aime lovely, lovely Aim6e sweet, sweet
child! you have conquered, exclaimed the Ba-
ronne, laying the crown at h-e feet upon the
garland, and then coming forward, she embraced
the child, and wept as she pressed her to her
It was an awful feeling that impressed the
company at that moment; a tear was in every
eye. The Abb6 whispered to me, Heaven have
mercy upon me a sinner! If that child thinks
herself impure in the eyes even of her fellow-
creatures, what am I in the sight of God? and
he crossed himself. I heard expressions of the
same nature from many mouths; and Susette
pleased me much, by assuring me that she now
felt ashamed of herself and of her own vain-glo-
rious opinions of her merits.
It is hardly necessary that I should assure
my reader that the conduct of Aim6e on this
and on all other occasions evidently showed that
there was no art or affectation in her conduct-
no pretence of humility which she did not actu-
ally feel, but really a deep and heartfelt sense or
her own unworthiness, and an utter disregard of
what effect might result from her conduct, or


what impressions it might make on those wh;
were present. I mention this, for although it is
a lovely thing to see true humility in a child;
nothing is more displeasing to God, or more offen-
sive to those of our fellow-creatures whose minds
are well regulated, than to perceive attempts to
display a humility which is not really felt.
In the mean time the Baronne ordered the
garland and crown to be carried to the Church,
and to be placed in the lady chapel there ; and
.it was some time before the assembly could so
far divest themselves of their serious feelings as
to enter into the amusements of the evening.
As to myself, I must confess that it was during
that evening that I for the first time made any
serious reflections on the violence which the
mind suffers in being drawn from solemn feel-
ings into those which are merely earthly, and
the contrary; and I was led to think that human
wisdom consisted in avoiding those excitements
of earthly pleasure, by which the feelings more
suited to our state as dying creatures, are ren-
dered distasteful and uncongenial to our minds.
After the Feast of the Flowers, several months
passed during which nothing particular took
place in our private circle worthy of record.

During this period our minds were much agi
tated by public affairs ; that dreadful revolution,
so awful in its progress and so wonderful in its
effects, had commenced. The capital was al-
ready in confusion, but we in the province still
only heard the thunder rolling in the distance.
In the mean time, the remainder of the sum-
mer and the whole of the autumn and winter
passed away. In the middle of the winter I
was seized with a rheumatic complaint, which
confined me to my bed till towards the end of
the spring. During this period a friend under-
took my duty, and I saw little of my people;
my Bible was, I thank God, my constant com-
panion at that time, and the reading thereof, I
have reason to think, was blessed to me in a
degree which can hardly be conceived. It was
thought, however, necessary when I left my bed
that I should change the air, and accordingly I
was carried from my bed to the chaise which
was to convey me to the house of a married
sister who lived not very far from Rouen. There
I remained two months, but at the end of that
period was much distressed by letters from the
Baronne, who informed me that a contagious

disorder had broken out with violence in the
house of Madame Buld ; that many of the child-
ren were very ill, and that our little Aimee was
in peril of her life.
It was very late in the spring when I received
the news, and as my health was nearly re-es-
tabltshed, I lost no time, but hastened back to my
flock-that flock which I was destined soon to
quit under the most painful circumstances, and to
quit for life ; for the door of my restoration to
my former place is for ever shut against me-
my principles would now beheld in abhorrence
by those who loved me formerly-nor could I,
even if permitted, now take a part in services of
whose idolatry I have been long assured. But
no more of this: it has no doubt been good for
me, and for others of my countrymen, that their
ancient ties have been dissolved-ties which
bound us to the world and to a false religion,
and which we should never have had strength
to break by our own efforts.,
It was a glorious evening in the end of May
when I arrived within view of my own village,
from which I had been absent many weeks. I
had quitted the public vehicle in which I had


travelled, on the opposite bank of the Seine, and
having crossed the river in a small boat, I pro-
ceeded on foot the short remainder of my jour-
ney. As soon as I left the boat I was in my
own parish, I was in fact at home, and I was
making my way along an embowed pathway to-
wards the village when I overtook a decent pea-
sant in her best apparel going the same way.
To my enquiry, How is it with you, neighbour
Mourque ? How are all your friends ? she repli
ed, Ah! Father Raffrk, we have lost one of our
fairest flowers, and I am now going to see the
last duties paid to her blessed remains.
Our flower, I repeated; not my lily, I trust.
Is it Aimee who is no more ?
It is, sir, she replied; and when I last saw
her at the chateau I thought the little angel
would never live to enjoy another fete ; such as
she, father, are not for this world-nay, her own
very words, when she refused the crown and
spoke of what she should be, proved to me how
it would be, and others said the same. But the
crown and the garland are to be placed on her
coffin, sir; the garland indeed is withered and
shrunk, but the crown is not made of such things

as can fade, they tell me; but it will be a touch-
ing spectacle, and surely, sir, there will not be
many absent from the Church this evening, who
were at the lady's Feast of Flowers.
I was so affected that I could not speak; so
the good woman proceeded without interruption.
She informed me of many things concerning
the sickness and death of the dear child; and
of the grief of the Baronne and of Madame Bul6,
who, both together, as she said, waited on the
dear child day after day and night after night;
and she told me how she had prayed while her
senses had been continued to her, and how she
had again and again called upon her Saviour,
and spoken of her hope, and of being speedily
taken to him who had died for her, and how she
had expressed her love for her instructress and
the lady of the chateau, and her tender regard
for her school-fellows-but, added the peasant,
with some emotion of manner and some expres-
sion of regret, it is a grief to me to think that
the poor child was so insensible when the priest
attempted to administer the last sacrament, that
she knew nothing of what passed, she was as
insensible to the holy anointing as a lifeless


babe; neither did she take the smallest notice
of the holy cross which was held before her-
the Lord have mercy on her soul! I am thinking,
father, could she have been a heretic ? Was she
not from England ?
Ah! I said, was it so ? 'tis true she was from
The woman started at the manner in which I
spoke, and looked anxiously at me, saying, Do
you doubt, sir, do you doubt of her final happi-
ness ?
I interrupted her. Ah, would to God, I an-
swered, that I were as blessed and happy as
that dear child now is On whom did she call
in her dying hours, whom did she live only to
please, to whom did she give all the glory,butunto
the only true Saviour-He who is above all
saints and angels, the God incarnate, He by
whom alone the sinner can be saved.
The poor woman crossed herself as I spoke,
and assented to my assertion.
Blessed little lamb I exclaimed, and art thou
gathered to the fold of the only true Shepherd!
Sweet lily of the valley! and art thou removed
to a more congenial soil; but who shall fill the
place which thou hast left ?

At that instant the tower of the Church broke
upon my view as we turned an angle of the road,
and a distant sound of choral harmony burst
upon my ear. I was ashamed of it, but I could
not help it; I burst into tears and wept like a
child. I did not know till that moment how
dear the orphan Aimee was to my heart. I
roused myself, however, and walked on, an'i a
few steps brought me into the entrance of the
village street, and in full view of the western
front of the Church, the great door of which being
open, I could distinguish the crowd within, and
hear the soft melody of the human voice attuned
with the full-toned organ within, in such a chant,
so solemn, so touching, so sublime, as seemed
to raise my mind above all earthly feelings, and
make me (I was about to say,) desire to be with
my Aim6e, absent from the body and present
with my Lord. As I advanced I perceived that
all the houses in the street were deserted, and
the deep silence which reigned amid these dwell-
ings, enabled me to hear the requiem more
clearly and more distinctly.
At length, as I passed under the doorway of
the Church, I found myself in a crowd, not only

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