During our first solemn silence, which, you may remember, was only broken by my repeated requests that you would make a smaller, and still smaller circle, till I saw the fire-place fairly inclosed round, the idea came into my mind, which has since been a source of amusement to you in the recollection, and to myself in particular has been of essential benefit, as it enabled me to form a just estimate of the dispositions of you my young pupils, and assisted me to adapt my plan of future instructions to each individual temper.

An introduction to a point we wish to carry, we always feel to be an aukward affair, and generally execute it in an aukward manner; so I believe I did then:  for when I imparted this idea to you, I think I prefaced it rather too formally for such young auditors, for I began with telling you, that I had read in old authors, that it was not unfrequent in former times, when strangers were assembled together, as we might be, for them to amuse themselves with telling stories, either of their own lives, or the adventures of others.  “Will you allow me, ladies,” I continued, “to persuade you to amuse yourselves in this way? you will not then look so unsociably upon each other:  for we find that these strangers of whom we read, were as well acquainted before the conclusion of the first story, as if they had known each other many years.  Let me prevail upon you to relate some little anecdotes of your own lives.  Fictitious tales we can read in books, and [they] were therefore better adapted to conversation in those times when books of amusement were more scarce than they are at present.”

After many objections of not knowing what to say, or how to begin, which I overcame by assuring you how easy it would be, for that every person is naturally eloquent when they are the hero or heroine of their own tale, the Who should begin was next in question.

I proposed to draw lots, which formed a little amusement of itself.  Miss Manners, who till then had been the saddest of the sad, began to brighten up, and said it was just like drawing king and queen, and began to tell us where she passed last twelfth day; but as her narration must have interfered with the more important business of the lottery, I advised her to postpone it, till it came to her turn to favour us with the history of her life, when it would appear in its proper order.  The first number fell to the share of miss Villiers, whose joy at drawing what we called the_ first prize, was tempered with shame at appearing as the first historian in the company.  She wished she had not been the very first:—­she had passed all her life in a retired village, and had nothing to relate of herself that could give the least entertainment:—­she had not the least idea in the world where to begin.