Chapter II: Part 2

The happy Fidus was at that time busy in entertaining his loved Amata with a song which he had that very morning composed in praise of constancy; and the giant was now within one stride of them, when Amata, perceiving him, cried out in a trembling voice, ‘Fly, Fidus, fly, or we are lost for ever; we are pursued by the hateful Barbarico!’ She had scarce uttered these words, when the savage tyrant seized them by the waist in either hand, and holding up to his nearer view, thus said: ‘Speak, miscreants; and, if you would avoid immediate death, tell me who you are, and whence arises that tranquility of mind, which even at a distance was visible in your behaviour.’

Poor Fidus, with looks that would have melted the hardest heart, innocently replied, that they were wandering that way without designing offence to any creature on earth. That they were faithful lovers; and, with the consent of all their friends and relations, were soon to be married; therefore he entreated him not to part them.

The giant now no sooner perceived, from the last words of the affrighted youth, what was most likely to give them the greatest torment, than with a spiteful grin which made his horrible face yet more horrible, and in a hollow voice, as loud as thunder, he tauntingly cried out, ‘Ho-hoh! You’d not be parted, would you? For once I’ll gratify thy will, and thou shalt follow this thy whimpering fondling down my capatious maw.’ So saying, he turned his ghastly visage on the trembling Amata who, being now no longer able to support herself under his cruel threats, fainted away, and remained in his hand but as a lifeless corpse. When lifting up his eyes towards the hill on the opposite side, he beheld Benefico coming hastily towards him. This good giant having been that morning informed that Barbarico was roaming in the mountains after prey, left his peaceful castle, in hopes of giving protection to whatever unfortunate creature should fall into the clutches of this so cruel a monster.

Barbarico, at the sight of the friendly Benefico, started with fear; for although in bulk and stature he was, as we have said, the superior: yet that cowardice, which ever accompanies wickedness, now wrought in him in such a manner that he could not bear to confront him, well knowing the courage and fortitude that always attend the good and virtuous; and therefore instantly putting Fidus into the wallet that hung over his shoulder, he flung the fainting Amata, whom he took to be quite expired, into the stream that ran hard by, and fled to his cave, not daring once to cast his eyes behind him.

The good Benefico perceiving the monster’s flight, and not doubting but he had been perpetrating some horrid mischief, immediately hastened to the brook; where he found the half-expiring Amata floating down the stream, for her clothes had yet borne her up on the surface of the water. He speedily stepped in and drew her out, and taking her in his arms, pressed her to his warm bosom; and in a short space perceiving in her face the visible marks of returning life, his heart swelled with kind compassion, and he thus bespoke the tender maid: ‘Unhappy damsel, lift up thy gentle eyes, and tell me by what hard fate thou hast fallen into the power of that barbarous monster, whose savage nature delights in nothing but ruin and desolation. Tremble not thus, but without fear or terror behold one who joys in the thought of having saved thee from destruction, and will bring thee every comfort his utmost power can procure.’

The gentle Amata was now just enough recovered to open her eyes: but finding herself in a giant’s arms, and still retaining in her mind the frightful image of the horrid Barbarico, she fetched a deep sigh, crying out in broken accents, ‘Fly, Fidus, fly;’ and again sunk down upon the friendly giant’s breast. On hearing these words, and plainly seeing by the anguish of her mind that some settled grief was deeply rooted at her heart, and therefore despairing to bring her to herself immediately, the kind Benefico hastened with her to his hospitable castle; where every imaginable assistance was administered to her relief, in order to recover her lost sense, and to reconcile her to her wretched fate.

The cruel Barbarico was no sooner arrived at his gloomy cave, than he called to him his little page; who, trembling to hear the tyrant now again returned, quickly drew near to attend his stern commands: when drawing out of the wallet the poor Fidus, more dead than alive, the monster cried out, ‘Here, caitiff, take in charge this smoothed-faced miscreant; and, d’ye hear me? see that his allowance be no more than one small ounce of mouldy bread and half a pint of standing water, for each day’s support, till his now blooming skin be withered, his flesh be wasted from his bones, and he dwindle to a meagre skeleton.’ So saying he left them, as he hoped, to bewail each other’s sad condition. But the unhappy Fidus, bereft of his Amata, was not to be appalled by any of the most horrid threats; for now his only comfort was the hopes of a speedy end to his miserable life, and to find a refuge from his misfortunes in the peaceful grave. With this reflection the faithful Fidus was endeavouring to calm the inward troubles of his mind, when the little page, with looks of the most tender compassion, and in gentle words, bid him be comforted, and with patience endure his present affliction; adding that he himself had long suffered the most rigorous fate, yet despaired not but that one day would give them an opportunity to free themselves from the wicked wretch, whose sole delight was in others’ torments. ‘As to his inhuman commands,’ continued he, ‘I will sooner die than obey them; and in a mutual friendship perhaps we may find some consolation, even in this dismal cave.’

This little page the cruel Barbarico had stolen from his parents at five years old; ever since which time he had tortured and abused him, till he had now attained the age of one-and-twenty. His mother had given him the name of Mignon; by which name the monster always called him, as it gratified his insolence to make use of that fond appellation whilst he was abusing him, only when he said Mignon he would in derision add the word Dwarf; for, to say the truth, Mignon was one of the least men that was ever seen, though at the same time one of the prettiest: his limbs, though small, were exactly proportioned; his countenance was at once sprightly and soft; and whatever his head thought, or his heart felt, his eyes by their looks expressed; and his temper was as sweet as his person was amiable. Such was the gentle creature Barbarico chose to torment. For wicked giants, no less than wicked men and women, are constantly tormented at the appearance of those perfections in another, to which they themselves have no pretensions.

The friendship and affection of Fidus and Mignon now every day increased; and the longer they were acquainted, the mere delight they took in each other’s company. The faithful Fidus related to his companion the story of his loved Amata, whilst the tender Mignon consoled his friend’s inward sorrows, and supplied him with necessaries, notwithstanding the venture he run of the cruel tyrant’s heavy displeasure. The giant ceased not every day to view the hapless Fidus, to see if the cruelty of his intentions had in any degree wrought its desired effect; but perceiving in him no alteration, he now began to be suspicious that the little Mignon had not punctually obeyed his savage command. In order therefore to satisfy his wicked curiosity, he resolved within himself narrowly to watch every occasion these poor unhappy captives had of conversing with each other. Mignon, well knowing the implacable and revengeful disposition of this barbarous tyrant, had taken all the precautions imaginable to avoid discovery; and therefore generally sought every opportunity of being alone with Fidus, and carrying him his daily provisions at those hours he knew the giant was most likely to be asleep.

It so befell that, on a certain day, the wicked giant had, as was his usual custom, been abroad for many hours in search of some unhappy creature on whom to glut his hateful inhumanity; when, tired with fruitless roaming, he returned to his gloomy cave, beguiled of all his horrid purposes; for he had not once that day espied so much as the track of man, or other harmless animal, to give him hopes even to gratify his rage or cruelty; but now raving with inward torment and despair, he laid him down upon his iron couch, to try if he could close his eyes and quiet the tumultuous passions of his breast. He tossed and tumbled and could get no rest, starting with fearful dreams, and horrid visions of tormenting furies.

Meanwhile the gentle Mignon had prepared a little delicate repast, and having seen the monster lay himself at length, and thinking now that a fit occasion offered in which to comfort and refresh his long-expecting friend, was hastening with it to the cell where the faithful Fidus was confined. At the fatal moment the giant, rearing himself up on his couch, perceived the little Mignon just at the entrance of the cell; when calling to him in a hollow voice, that dismally resounded through the cave, he so startled the poor unhappy page, that he dropped the cover from his trembling hand and stood fixed and motionless as a statue.

‘Come hither, Mignon, caitiff, dwarf,’ said then the taunting homicide: but the poor little creature was so thunderstruck he was quite unable to stir one foot. Whereat the giant, rousing himself from off his couch, with one huge stride reached out his brawny arm, and seized him by the waist; and, pointing to the scattered delicates, cried out, ‘Vile miscreant! is it thus thou hast obeyed my orders? Is this the mouldy bread and muddy water, with which alone it was my command thou shouldst sustain that puny mortal? But I’ll--’ Here raising him aloft, he was about to dash him to the ground, when suddenly revolving in his wicked thoughts, that if at once he should destroy his patient slave, his cruelty to him must also have an end, he paused--and then recovering, he stretched out his arm, and bringing the little trembler near his glaring eyes, he thus subjoins: ‘No; I’ll not destroy thy wretched life; but thou shalt waste thy weary days in a dark dungeon, as far remote from the least dawn of light as from thy loved companion. And I myself will carefully supply you both so equally with mouldy bread and water, that each by his own sufferings shall daily know what his dear friend endures.’ So saying, he hastened with him to his deepest dungeon; and having thrust him in, he doubly barred the iron door. And now again retiring to his couch, this new-wrought mischief, which greatly gratified his raging mind, soon sunk him down into a sound and heavy sleep. The reason this horrid monster had not long ago devoured his little captive (for he thought him a delicious morsel) was, that he might never want an object at hand to gratify his cruelty. For though extremely great was his voracious hunger, yet greater still was his desire of tormenting; and oftentimes when he had teased, beat, and tortured the poor gentle Mignon, so as to force from him tears, and sometimes a soft complaint, he would, with a malicious sneer, scornfully reproach him in the following words: ‘Little does it avail to whine, to blubber, or complain; for, remember, abject wretch,

I am a giant, and I can eat thee:
Thou art a dwarf, and thou canst not eat me.’

When Mignon was thus alone, he threw himself on the cold ground, bemoaning his unhappy fate. However, he soon recollected that patience and resignation were his only succour in this distressful condition; not doubting but that, as goodness cannot always suffer, he should in time meet with some unforeseen deliverance from the savage power of the inhuman Barbarico.

Whilst the gentle Mignon was endeavouring to comfort himself in his dungeon with these good reflections, he suddenly perceived, at a little distance from him, a small glimmering light. Immediately he rose from the ground, and going towards it, found that it shone through a little door that had been left at jar, which led him to a spacious hall, wherein the giant hoarded his immense treasures. Mignon was at first dazzled with the lustre of so much gold and silver, and sparkling jewels as were there heaped together. But casting his eyes on a statue that was placed in the middle of the room, he read on the pedestal, written in very small letters, the following verses:

Wouldst thou from the rage be free
Of the tyrant’s tyranny,
Loose the fillet which is bound
Twice three times my brows around;
Bolts and bars shall open fly,
By a magic sympathy.
Take him in his sleeping hour;
Bind his neck and break his pow’r.
Patience bids, make no delay:
Haste to bind him, haste away.

Mignon’s little heart now leapt for joy, that he had found the means of such a speedy deliverance; and eagerly climbing up the statue, he quickly unbound the magic fillet; which was no sooner done, but suddenly the bolts and bars of the brazen gates through which the giant used to pass to this his treasury, were all unloosed, and the folding-doors of their own accord flew open, grating harsh thunder on their massy hinges. At the same instant, stretched on his iron couch in the room adjoining to the hall, the giant gave a deadly groan. Here again the little Mignon’s trembling heart began to fail; for he feared the monster was awakened by the noise, and that he should now suffer the cruellest torments his wicked malice could invent. Wherefore for a short space he remained clinging round the statue, till he perceived that all again was hushed and silent; when, getting down, he gently stole into the giant’s chamber, where he found him still in a profound sleep.

But here, to the great mortification of Miss Jenny’s attentive hearers, the hour of entertaining themselves being at an end, they were obliged to leave the poor little Mignon in the greatest distress and fright lest the giant should awake before he could fulfil the commands of the oracle, and to wait for the remainder of the story till another opportunity.

In the evening, as soon as school was over, the little company again met in their arbour, and nothing could be greater than their impatience to hear the event of Mignon’s hazardous undertaking. Miss Dolly Friendly said that if the poor little creature was destroyed, she should not sleep that night. But they all joined in entreating Miss Jenny to proceed; which she did in the following manner:

A CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF THE GIANTS.

Now, thought Mignon, is the lucky moment to fulfil the instructions of the oracle. And then cautiously getting up the side of the couch, with trembling hands he put the fillet round the monster’s neck, and tied it firmly in a threefold knot; and again softly creeping down, he retired into a corner of the room to wait the wished event. In a few minutes the giant waked; and opening his enormous eyes, he glared their horrid orbs around (but without the least motion of his head or body) and spied the little Mignon where he lay, close shrinking to avoid his baleful sight.

The giant no sooner perceived his little page at liberty, but his heart sorely smote him, and he began to suspect the worst that could befall; for, recollecting that he had carelessly left open the little door leading from the dungeon to the great hall wherein was placed the fatal magic statue, he was now entirely convinced that Mignon had discovered the secret charm on which his power depended; for he already found the magic of the fillet round his neck fully to operate, his sinews all relax, his joints all tremble; and when he would by his own hand have tried to free himself, his shivering limbs he found refused obedience to their office. Thus bereft of all his strength, and well nigh motionless, in this extremity of impotence he cast about within himself by what sly fraud (for fraud and subtlety were now his only refuge) he best might work upon the gentle Mignon to lend his kind assistance to unloose him. Wherefore with guileful words and seeming courtesy, still striving to conceal his cursed condition, he thus bespake his little captive:

‘Come hither Mignon; my pretty gentle boy, come near me. This fillet thou has bound around my neck, to keep me from the cold, gives me some pain. I know thy gentle nature will not let thee see thy tender master in the least uneasiness, without affording him thy cheerful aid and kind relief. Come hither, my dear child, I say, and loose the knot which in thy kind concern (I thank thee for thy care) thou hast tied so hard, it somewhat frets my neck.’

These words the insidious wretch uttered in such a low trembling tone of voice, and with such an affectation of tenderness, that the little page, who had never before experience from him any such kind of dialect, and but too well knew his savage nature to believe that anything but guile or want of power could move him to the least friendly speech, or kind affection, began now strongly to be persuaded that all was as he wished, and that the power of the inhuman tyrant was at an end. He knew full well, that if the giant had not lost the ability of rising from the couch, he should ere now too sensibly have felt the sad effects of his malicious resentment, and therefore boldly adventured to approach him, and coming near the couch, and finding not the least effort in the monster to reach him, and from thence quite satisfied of the giant’s total incapacity of doing farther mischief, he flew with raptures to the cell where Fidus lay confined.

Poor Fidus all this time was quite disconsolate; nor could he guess the cause why his little friend so long had kept away; one while he thought the giant’s stern commands had streightened him of all subsistence; another while his heart misgave him for his gentle friend, lest unawares his kind beneficence towards him had caused him to fall a sacrifice to the tyrant’s cruel resentment. With these and many other like reflections the unhappy youth was busied, when Mignon, suddenly unbarred the cell, flew to his friend, and eagerly embraced him, cried out, ‘Come Fidus, haste, my dearest friend; for thou and all of us are from this moment free. Come and behold the cruel monster, where he lies, bereft of all his strength. I cannot stay to tell thee now the cause; but haste, and thou shall see the dreadful tyrant stretched on his iron couch, deprived of all his wicked power. But first let us unbar each cell, wherein is pent some wretched captive, that we may share a general transport for this our glad deliverance.’

The faithful Fidus, whose heart had known but little joy since he had lost his loved Amata, now felt a dawning hope that he might once more chance to find her, if she had survived their fatal separation; and, without one word of answer, he followed Mignon to the several cells, and soon released all the astonished captives.

Mignon first carried them to behold their former terror, now, to appearance, almost a lifeless corpse; who on seeing them all surround his couch, gave a most hideous roar, which made them tremble, all but the gentle Mignon, who was convinced of the impotence of his rage, and begged them to give him their attendance in the hall; where they were no sooner assembled than he showed them the statue, read them the oracle, and told them every circumstance before related.

They now began to bethink themselves of what method was to be taken to procure their entire liberty; for the influence of the magic fillet extended only to the gates of the hall; and still they remained imprisoned within the dismal cave; and though they knew from the oracle, as well as from what appeared, that the monster’s power was at an end, yet still were they to seek the means of their escape from this his horrid abode. At length Mignon again ascended the couch to find the massy key, and spying one end of it peep out from under the pillow, he called to Fidus, who first stepped up to his friend’s assistance; the rest by his example quickly followed; and now, by their united force, they dragged the ponderous key from under the monster’s head; and then descending they all went to the outer door of the cave, where, with some difficulty, they set wide open the folding iron gates.

They now determined to dispatch a messenger to the good Benefico with the news, which they knew would be so welcome to him and all his guests, and with one voice agreed that Fidus should bear the joyful tidings; and then returned to observe the monster, and to wait the coming of Benefico. The nimble Fidus soon reached the giant’s dwelling, where, at a little distance from the castle, he met the good Benefico with a train of happy friends, enjoying the pleasures of the evening, and the instructive and cheerful conversation of their kind protector. Fidus briefly told his errand; and instantly Benefico, with all his train, joyfully hastened to behold the wonders he had related; for now many hearts leapt for joy, in hopes of meeting some friend of whom they had been bereft by the cruelty of the savage Barbarico.

They were not long before they arrived at the horrid cave, where Benefico, proceeding directly to the monster’s chamber, suddenly appeared to him at the side of his couch. Barbarico, on seeing him, gave a hideous yell, and rolled his glaring eyes in such a manner as expressed the height of rage and envious bitterness.

Benefico, turning to all the company present, thus spoke, ‘How shall I enough praise and admire the gentle Mignon for having put in my power to justice on this execrable wretch, and freeing you all from an insufferable slavery, and the whole country from their terror?’ Then reaching the monster’s own sword, which hung over his couch, his hand yet suspended over the impious tyrant, he thus said, ‘Speak, wretch, if yet the power of speech is left thee; and with thy latest breath declare, what advantage hast thou found of all thy wicked life?’

Barbarico well knew that too bad had been that life, to leave the least room for hope of mercy; and therefore, instead of an answer, he gave another hideous yell, gnashing his horrid teeth, and again rolling his ghastly eyes on all around.

Benefico seeing him thus impenitent and sullen, lifted on high the mighty sword, and with one blow severed his odious head from his enormous body.

The whole assembly gave a shout for joy; and Benefico holding in his hand the monster’s yet grinning head, thus addressed his half-astonished companions: ‘See here, my friends, the proper conclusion of a rapacious cruel life. But let us hasten from this monster’s gloomy cave; and on the top of one of our highest mountains, fixed on a pole, will I set up this joyful spectacle, that all the country round may know themselves at liberty to pursue their rural business or amusements, without the dread of any annoyance from a devouring vile tormentor. And when his treasures, which justly all belong to the good patient Mignon, are removed, we will shut up the mouth of this abominable dwelling; and, casting on the door a heap of earth, we’ll hope, in time, that both place and remembrance of this cruel savage may in time be lost.’

Every one readily cried out, that to Benefico, the good Benefico, alone belonged the tyrant’s treasures; that Benefico should ever be, as heretofore, their governor, their father, and their kind protector.

The beneficent heart of the good giant was quite melted with this their kind confidence and dependence upon him, and assured them, he should ever regard them as his children: and now, exulting in the general joy that must attend the destruction of this savage monster, when the whole country should find themselves freed from the terror his rapine and desolation, he sent before to his castle, to give intelligence to all within that happy place of the grim monster’s fall, and little Mignon’s triumph; giving in charge to the harbinger of these tidings, that it should be his first and chiefest care to glad the gentle bosom of a fair disconsolate (who kept herself retired and pent up within her own apartment) with the knowledge that the inhuman monster was no more; and that henceforth sweet peace and rural innocence might reign in all their woods and groves. The hearts of all within the castle bounded with joy, on hearing the report of the inhuman monster’s death, and the deliverance of all his captives, and with speedy steps they hastened to meet their kind protector; nor did the melancholy fair one, lest she should seem unthankful for the general blessing, refuse to join the train.

It was not long after the messenger that Benefico, and those his joyful friends, arrived: but the faithful Fidus alone, of all this happy company, was tortured with the inward pangs of a sad grief he could not conquer, and his fond heart remained still captivated to a melting sorrow: nor could even the tender friendship of the gentle Mignon quite remove, though it alleviated, his sadness; but the thoughts of his loved lost amata embittered every joy, and overwhelmed his generous soul with sorrow.

When the company from the castle joined Benefico, he declared to them in what manner their deliverance was effected; and, as a general shout of joy resounded through the neighbouring mountains, Fidus, lifting up his eyes, beheld in the midst of the multitude, standing in a pensive posture, the fair disconsolate. Her tender heart was at the instant overflowing in soft tears, caused by a kind participation of their present transport, yet mixed with the deep sad impression of a grief her bosom was full fraught with. Her face, at first, was almost hid by her white handkerchief, with which she wiped away the trickling drops, which falling, had bedewed her beauteous cheeks: but as she turned her lovely face to view the joyful conquerors, and to speak a welcome to her kind protector, what words can speak the raptures, the astonishment, that swelled the bosom of the faithful youth, when in this fair disconsolate he saw his loved, his constant, his long-lost Amata! Their delighted eyes in the same instant beheld each other, and, breaking on each side from their astonished friends, they flew like lightning into each other’s arms.

After they had given a short account of what had passed in their separation, Fidus presented to his loved Amata the kind, the gentle Mignon, with lavish praises of his generous friendship, and steady resolution, in hazarding his life by disobeying the injunctions of the cruel tyrant. No sooner had Amata heard the name of Mignon, but she cried out, ‘Surely my happiness is now complete, and all my sorrows, by this joyful moment, are more than fully recompensed; for, in the kind preserver of my Fidus, I have found my brother. My mother lost her little Mignon when he was five years old; and pining grief, after some years vain search, ended her wretched life.’

The generous hearts of all who were present shared the raptures of the faithful Fidus, the lovely Amata, and gentle Mignon, on this happy discovery; and in the warmest congratulations they expressed their joy.

Benefico now led all the delighted company into his castle, where freedom was publicly proclaimed; and every one was left a liberty either to remain there with Benefico, or, loaded with wealth sufficient for their use, to go where their attachments or inclinations might invite them.

Fidus, Amata, and the little Mignon, hesitated not one moment to declare their choice of staying with the generous Benefico.

The nuptials of the faithful Fidus, and his loved Amata, were solemnized in the presence of all their friends.

Benefico passed the remainder of his days in pleasing reflections on his well-spent life.

The treasures of the dead tyrant were turned into blessings by the use they were now made of: little Mignon was loved and cherished by all his companions. Peace, harmony and love reigned in every bosom; dissension, discord, and hatred were banished from this friendly dwelling; and that happiness, which is the natural consequence of goodness, appeared in every cheerful countenance throughout the castle of the good Benefico; and as heretofore affright and terror spread itself from the monster’s hateful cave, so now from this peaceful castle was diffused tranquility and joy through all the happy country round.

Thus ended the story of the two giants: and Miss Jenny being tired with reading, they left the arbour for that night, and agreed to meet there again the next day.

As soon as they had supped, Mrs. Teachum sent for Miss Jenny Peace into her closet, and desired an exact account from her of this their first day’s amusement, that she might judge from thence how far they might be trusted with the liberty she had given them.

Miss Jenny showed her governess the story she had read; and said, ‘I hope, madam, you will not think it an improper one; for it was given me by my mamma; and she told me, that she thought it contained a very excellent moral.’

Mrs. Teachum, having looked it over, thus spoke: ‘I have no objection, Miss Jenny, to your reading any stories to amuse you, provided you read them with the proper disposition of mind not to be hurt by them. A very good moral may indeed be drawn from the whole, and likewise from almost every part of it; and as you had this story from your mamma, I doubt not but you are very well qualified to make the proper remarks yourself upon the moral of it to your companions. But here let me observe to you (which I would have you communicate to your little friends) that giants, magic, fairies, and all sorts of supernatural assistances in a story, are only introduced to amuse and divert: for a giant is called so only to express a man of great power; and the magic fillet round the statue was intended only to show you, that by patience you will overcome all difficulties. Therefore, by no means let the notion of giants or magic dwell upon your minds. And you may farther observe, that there is a different style adapted to every sort of writing; and the various sounding epithets given to Barbarico are proper to express the raging cruelty of his wicked mind. But neither this high-sounding language, nor the supernatural contrivances in this story, do I so thoroughly approve, as to recommend them much to your reading; except, as I said before, great care is taken to prevent your being carried away, by these high-flown things, from that simplicity of taste and manners which it is my chief study to inculcate.’

Here Miss Jenny looked a little confounded; and, by her down-cast eye, showed a fear that she had incurred the disapprobation, if not the displeasure, of her governess: upon which Mrs. Teachum thus proceeded:

‘I do not intend by this, my dear, to blame you for what you have done; but only to instruct you how to make the best use of even the most trifling things: and if you have any more stories of this kind, with an equal good moral, when you are not better employed, I shall not be against your reading them; always remembering the cautions I have this evening been giving you.’

Miss Jenny thanked her governess for her instructions, and kind indulgence to her, and promised to give her an exact account of their daily amusements; and, taking leave, retired to her rest.

TUESDAY. THE SECOND DAY.

That Miss Jenny’s meeting with her companions in the morning, after school, she asked them how they liked the history of the giants? They all declared they thought it a very pretty diverting story. Miss Jenny replied, though she was glad they were pleased, yet she would have them look farther than the present amusement: ‘for,’ continued she, ‘my mamma always taught me to understand what I read; otherwise, she said, it was to no manner of purpose to read ever so many books, which would only stuff my brain, without being any improvement to my mind.’

The misses all agreed, that certainly it was of no use to read, without understanding what they read; and began to talk of the story of the giants, to prove they could make just remarks on it.

Miss Sukey Jennett said, ‘I am most pleased with that part of the story where the good Benefico cuts off the monster’s head, and puts an end to his cruelty, especially as he was so sullen he would not confess his wickedness; because, you know, Miss Jenny, if he had had sense enough to have owned his error, and have followed the example of the good giant, he might have been happy.’

Miss Lucy Sly delivered the following opinion: ‘My greatest joy was whilst Mignon was tying the magic fillet round the monster’s neck, and conquering him.’

‘Now I (said Miss Dolly Friendly) am most pleased with that part of the story, were Fidus and Amata meet the reward of their constancy and love, when they find each other after all their sufferings.’

Miss Polly Suckling said, with some eagerness, ‘My greatest joy was in the description of Mignon; and to think that it should be in the power of that little creature to conquer such a great monster.’

Miss Patty Lockit, Miss Nanny Spruce, Miss Betty Ford, and Miss Henny Fret, advanced no new opinions; but agreed some to one, and some to another, of those that were already advanced. And as every one was eager to maintain her own opinion, an argument followed, the particulars of which I could never learn: only thus much I know, that it was concluded by Miss Lucy Sly, saying, with an air and tone of voice that implied more anger than had been heard since the reconciliation, that she was sure Miss Polly Suckling only liked that part about Mignon, because she was the least in the school; and Mignon being such a little creature, put her in mind of herself.

Miss Jenny Peace now began to be frighted, lest this contention should raise another quarrel; and therefore begged to be heard before they went any farther. They were not yet angry enough to refuse hearing what she had to say: and then Miss Jenny desired them to consider the moral of the story, and what use they might make of it, instead of contending which was the prettiest part: ‘For otherwise,’ continued she, ‘I have lost my breath in reading to you; and you will be worse, rather than better, for what you have heard. Pray observe, that Benefico’s happiness arose entirely from his goodness: he had less strength, and less riches, than the cruel monster; and yet, by the good use he made of what he possessed, you see how he turned all things to his advantage. But particularly remember, that the good little Mignon, in the moment that he was patiently submitting to his sufferings, found a method of relieving himself from them, and of overcoming a barbarous monster, who had so cruelly abused him.

‘Our good governess last night not only instructed me in this moral I am now communicating to you, but likewise bid me warn you by no means to let the notion of giants or magic to dwell upon your minds; for by a giant is meant no more than a man of great power; and the magic fillet round the head of the statue was only intended to teach you, that by the assistance of patience you may overcome all difficulties.

‘In order therefore to make what you read of any use to you, you must not only think of it thus in general, but make the application to yourselves. For when (as now) instead of improving yourselves by reading, you make what you read a subject to quarrel about, what is this less than being like the monster Barbarico, who turned his very riches to a curse? I am sure it is not following the example of Benefico, who made everything a blessing to him. Remember, if you pinch and abuse a dog or cat, because it is in your power, you are like the cruel Monster, when he abused the little Mignon, and said,

I am a giant, and I can eat thee;
Thou art a dwarf, and thou canst not eat me.

‘In short, if you will reap any benefit from this story towards rendering you happy, whenever you have any power, you must follow the example of the giant Benefico, and do good with it: and when you are under any sufferings, like Mignon, you must patiently endure them till you can find a remedy: then, in one case, like Benefico, you will enjoy what you possess; and, in the other, you will in time, like Mignon, overcome your sufferings: for the natural consequence of indulging cruelty and revenge in the mind, even where there is the highest power to gratify it, is misery.’

Here Miss Sukey Jennet interrupted Miss Jenny, saying, that she herself had experienced the truth of that observation in the former part of her life: for she never had known either peace or pleasure, till she had conquered in her mind the desire of hurting and being revenged on those who she thought did not by their behaviour show the same regard for her, that her own good opinion of herself made her think she deserved. Miss Jenny then asked her, if she was willing to lead the way to the rest of her companions, by telling her past life? She answered, she would do it with all her heart; and, by having so many and great faults to confess, she hoped she should, by her true confessions, set them an example of honesty and ingenuity.

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS SUKEY JENNETT.

Miss Sukey Jennett, who was next in years to Miss Jenny Peace, was not quite twelve years old; but so very tall of her age, that she was within a trifle as tall as Miss Jenny Peace; and, by growing so fast, was much thinner: and though she was not really so well made, yet, from an assured air in her manner of carrying herself, she was called much the genteelest girl. There was, on first view, a great resemblance in their persons. Her face was very handsome, and her complexion extremely good; but a little more inclined to pale than Miss Jenny’s. Her eyes were a degree darker, and had a life and fire in them which was very beautiful: but yet her impatience on the least contradiction often brought a fierceness into her eyes, and gave such a discomposure to her whole countenance, as immediately took off your admiration. But her eyes had now, since her hearty reconciliation with her companions, lost a great part of their fierceness; and with great mildness, and an obliging manner, she told her story as follows:

THE LIFE OF MISS SUKEY JENNETT.

‘My mamma died when I was so young that I cannot remember her; and my papa marrying again within half a year after her death, I was chiefly left to the care of an old servant, that had lived many years in the family. I was a great favourite of hers, and in everything had my own way. When I was but four years old, if ever anything crossed me, I was taught to beat it, and be revenged of it, even though it could not feel. If I fell down and hurt myself, the very ground was to be beat for hurting the sweet child: so that, instead of fearing to fall, I did not dislike it; for I was pleased to find, that I was of such consequence, that everything was to take care that I came by no harm.

‘I had a little playfellow, in a child of one of my papa’s servants, who was to be entirely under my command. This girl I used to abuse and beat, whenever I was out of humour; and when I had abused her, if she dared to grumble, or make the least complaint, I thought it the greatest impudence in the world; and, instead of mending my behaviour to her, I grew very angry that she should dare to dispute my power: for my governess always told her, that she was but a servant’s girl, and I was a gentleman’s daughter; and that therefore she ought to give way to me; for that I did her great honour in playing with her. Thus I thought the distance between us was so great, that I never considered that she could feel: but whilst I myself suffered nothing, I fancied everything was very right; and it never once came into my head, that I could be in the wrong.

‘This life I led till I came to school, when I was eleven years old. Here I had nobody in my power; for all my schoolfellows thought themselves my equals: so that I could only quarrel, fight, and contend for everything: but being liable to be punished, when I was trying to be revenged on any of my enemies, as I thought them, I never had a moment’s ease or pleasure, till Miss Jenny was so good to take the pains to convince me of my folly, and made me be reconciled to you, my dear companions.’

Here Miss Sukey ceased; and Miss Jenny smiled with pleasure, at the thoughts that she had been the cause of her happiness.

Mrs. Teachum being now come into the arbour, to see in what manner her little scholars passed their time, they all rose up and do her reverence. Miss Jenny gave her an account how they had been employed; and she was much pleased with their innocent and useful entertainment; but especially with the method they had found out of relating their past lives. She took little Polly Suckling by the hand, and bidding the rest follow, it being now dinner time, she walked towards the house, attended by the whole company.

Mrs. Teachum had a great inclination to hear the history of the lives of all her little scholars: but she thought, that being present at those relations might be a balk to the narration, as perhaps they might be ashamed freely to confess their past faults before her; and therefore, that she might not be any bar in this case to the freedom of their speech, and yet might be acquainted with their stories (though this was not merely a vain curiosity, but a desire by this means to know their different dispositions), she called Miss Jenny Peace to her parlour after dinner, and told her, she would have her get the lives of her companions in writing, and bring them to her; and Miss Jenny readily promised to obey her commands.

In the evening our little company again met in their charming arbour; where they were no sooner seated, with that calmness and content which now always attended them, than the cries and sobs of a child, at a little distance from their garden, disturbed their tranquility.

Miss Jenny, ever ready to relieve the distressed, ran immediately to the place whence the sound seemed to come, and was followed by all her companions: when, at a small distance from Mrs. Teachum’s garden-wall, over which from the terrace our young company looked, they saw, under a large spreading tree, part of the branches of which shaded a seat at the end of that terrace, a middle-aged woman beating a little girl, who looked to be about eight years old, so severely, that it was no wonder her cries had reached their arbour.

Miss Jenny could not forbear calling out to the woman, and begging her to forbear: and little Polly Suckling cried as much as the girl, and desired she might not be beat any more. The woman, in respect to them, let the child go; but said, ‘Indeed, young ladies, you don’t know what a naughty girl she is: for though you now see me correct her in this manner, yet am I in all respects very kind to her, and never strike her but for lying. I have tried all means, good and bad, to break her of this vile fault; but hitherto all I have done has been in vain: nor can I ever get one word of truth out of her mouth. But I am resolved to break her of this horrid custom, or I cannot live with her: for though I am but poor, yet I will breed up my child to be honest, both in word and deed.’

Miss Jenny could not but approve of what the poor woman said. However, they all joined in begging forgiveness for the girl this time, provided she promised amendment for the future: and then our little society returned to their arbour.

Miss Jenny could not help expressing her great detestation of all lying whatsoever; when Miss Dolly Friendly, colouring, confessed she had often been guilty of this fault, though she never scarcely did it but for her friend.

Here Miss Jenny, interrupting her, said, that even that was no sort of excuse for lying; besides that the habit of it on any occasion, even with the appearance of a good intention, would but too likely lead to the use of it on many others: and as she did not doubt, by Miss Dolly’s blushing, that she was now very sensible of the truth of what she had just been saying, she hoped she would take this opportunity of obliging them with the history of her past life: which request she made no hesitation to grant, saying, the shame of her past faults should by o means induce her to conceal them.

THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS DOLLY FRIENDLY.

Miss Dolly Friendly was just turned of eleven years of age. Her person was neither plain nor handsome: and though she had not what is properly called one fine feature in her face, yet the disposition of them were so suitable to each other, that her countenance was rather agreeable than otherwise. She had generally something very quiet, or rather indolent, in her look, except when she was moved by anger; which seldom happened, but in defense of some favourite or friend; and she had then a fierceness and eagerness which altered her whole countenance: for she could not bear the least reflection or insult on those she loved. This disposition made her always eager to comply with her friends’ requests; and she immediately began, as follows:

THE LIFE OF MISS DOLLY FRIENDLY.

‘I was bred up, till I was nine years of age, with a sister, who was one year younger than myself. The chief care of our parents was to make us love each other; and, as I was naturally inclined to have very strong affections, I became so fond of my sister Molly, which was her name, that all my delight was to please her; and this I carried to such a height, that I scrupled no lies to excuse her faults: and whatever she did, I justified, and thought right, only because she did it.

‘I was ready to fight her quarrels, whether right or wrong; and hated everybody that offended her. My parents winked at whatever I did in defence of my sister; and I had no notion that any thing done for her could be unreasonable. In short, I made it my study to oblige and please her, till I found at last it was out of my power; for she grew so very humoursome, that she could not find out what she had most mind to have; and I found her always miserable; for she would cry only because she did not know her own mind.

‘She never minded what faults she committed, because she knew I would excuse her; and she was forgiven in consideration of our friendship, which gave our parents great pleasure.

‘My poor little sister grew very sickly, and she died just before I came to school: but the same disposition still continued; and it was my friend’s outcries of being hurt, that drew me into that odious quarrel, that we have all now repented.’

Here Miss Dolly Friendly ceased; and Miss Jenny said, she hoped Miss Dolly would remember, for the rest of her life, what HER good mamma had always taught her; namely, that it was not the office of friendship, to justify or excuse our friend when in the wrong; for that was the way to prevent their ever being in the right: that it was rather hatred, or contempt, than love, when the fear of another’s anger made us forego their good, for the sake of our own present pleasure; and that the friends who expected such flattery were not worth keeping.

The bell again summoned our little company to supper: but, before they went in, Miss Dolly Friendly said, if Miss Jenny approved of it, she would the next morning read them a story given her by an uncle of hers, that, she said, she was sure would please her, as its subject was friendship. Miss Jenny replied, that she was certain it would be a great pleasure to them all, to hear any story Miss Dolly thought proper to read them.

WEDNESDAY. THE THIRD DAY.

As soon as school was over in the morning, our little company were impatient to go into the arbour, to hear Miss Dolly’s story: but Mrs. Teachum told them they must be otherwise employed; for their writing-master, who lived some miles off; and who was expected in the afternoon, was just then come in, and begged that they would give him their attendance, though out of school-time; because he was obliged to be at home again before the afternoon, to meet a person who would confer some favour on him, and would be highly disobliged should he not keep his appointment: ‘And I know (said Mrs. Teachum) my little dears, you would rather lose your own amusement, than let any one suffer a real inconvenience on your accounts.’ They all readily complied, and cheerfully set to their writing; and in the afternoon Mrs. Teachum permitted them to leave off work an hour sooner than usual, as a reward for their readiness to lose their amusement in the morning: and being met in their arbour, Miss Dolly read as follows:

THE STORY OF CAELIA AND CHLOE.

Caelia and Chloe were both left orphans, at the tender age of six years. Amanda their aunt, who was very rich, and a maiden, took them directly under her care, and bred them up as her own children. Caelia’s mother was Amanda’s sister; and Chloe’s father was her brother; so that she was equally related to both.

They were left entirely unprovided for; were both born on the same day; and both lost their mothers on the day of their birth: their fathers were soldiers of fortune; and both killed in one day, in the fame engagement. But their fortunes were not more similar than their persons and dispositions. They were both extremely handsome; and in their Childhood were so remarkable for liveliness of parts, and sweetness of temper, that they were the admiration of the whole country where they lived.

Their aunt loved them with a sincere and equal affection, and took the greatest pleasure imaginable in their education, and particularly to encourage that love and friendship which she with pleasure perceived between them. Amanda being (as was said) very rich, and having no other relations, it was supposed that these her nieces would be very great fortunes; and as soon as they became women, they were addressed by all the men of fortune and no fortune round the neighbourhood. But as the love of admiration, and a desire of a large train of admirers, had no place in their minds, they soon dismissed, in the most civil and obliging manner, one after another, all these lovers.