able ideas of a country life, and the conversation naturally turned upon the subject.

"Oh! papa, how much I wish that we may always live in the country!" said Rosina; " and, in truth, I should almost like to be a farmer's daughter." "A farmer's daughter!" exclaimed Helen, laughing; "why so?"

"Because they seem so happy. How lively and happy Farmer B.'s daughters appeared! How rosy they looked! And how much they seemed to enjoy all their rural and innocent amusements! Did you observe the beehives ranged under that sunny wall in the garden, over which a vine hung its curling tendrils and purple clusters? How delightful

it must be to have bees to attend to! And then the pigeons, Helen, especially the pretty tame pigeon that ate out of Dorothea's hand! I am sure it must

be delightful to have pigeons to attend to! And then there were a thousand things beside-poultry and galenas, and cows and turkeys! Oh, it must be very delightful to live at a farm-house !”

"It was a scene of peaceful industry, of rural beauty, and of humble, unaspiring happiness, I grant you," said Helen, "but so long as I live in the country, at our own delightful home, I shall not envy the farmer's daughters!"

"I have heard it remarked, ' qui fait aimer les champs, fait aimer la vertu,' said Mr. C., " and I think it is a very just observation, for there is not only a variety and animation in rural occupations, that are particularly pleasing, but they are such as are calculated to soften and tranquillize the mind, to inspire feelings of benevolence and kindness towards our fellow-creatures, and gratitude to the Author of our numerous mercies.

Our favourite poet, Cowper, observes, with much propriety and truth,

God made the country, but man made the town.'

"For surely all around us, the green common, the fields of waving corn, the rivers, the forests, and the woods, evince that they are the perfect work of a great and good Creator."

"The town has no pleasures equal to those we enjoy in the country: has it, Maria?" said Rosina, appealing to her elder sister.

"The pleasures of the town are of a very different nature from those of the country, my dear. London is not the place for pigeons, and bees, and poultry, certainly; but still there are pleasures."

"Oh, Maria! to walk in a square for ever and ever! No charming scenery -no delightful rambles-nothing but crowded streets, and smoky, dusty lanes." "Rosina is quite out of humour with

London," said Maria; "yet notwithstanding all your objections, my dear, it is considered as the chosen resort of talent and genius; thousands fly thither as to the only spot where enjoyments are to be found."

"Enumerate those enjoyments, sister: do, do enumerate them, that I may know what they are."

"Society, my love; the society of refined and intelligent people; opportunities for mental improvement, afiorded by extensive libraries, and various institutions, calculated to facilitate the progress of the fine arts; places of amusement of all descriptions; whatever can gratify the eye, please the imagination, or delight the senses, is to be found in -London!"

"All this is true, very true," said Clara, "but I still agree with Rosina, in giving the preference to a country life.

The comparison, however, may serve to convince us that no place nor station is destitute of its peculiar enjoyments."

"This is a very proper reflection," said her sister," and a truth that cannot be too strongly impressed on our minds. Let us habitually remember that we have each that station in life assigned to us by Providence, which is most conducive to our welfare and happiness."

"Ah, in town we have elegant society, museums, libraries, and institutions of various descriptions," continued the lively Rosina, "but in the country we have nice verdant fields, pretty gardens full of flowers and shrubs, and liberty to run about and enjoy ourselves as much as we please! I am very glad that I live in the country!" And away she ran, as though anxious to convince her auditors that her assertion was founded on truth; but they needed no such proof.