I thought that all eyes were upon me, and that because I was a stranger.  I was terribly ashamed and confused at first; but my mother helped me to find out the places in the Prayer-book, and being busy about that, took off some of my painful apprehensions.  I was no stranger to the order of the service, having often read in a Prayer-book at home; but my thoughts being confused, it puzzled me a little to find out the responses and other things, which I thought I knew so well; but I went through it tolerably well.  One thing which has often troubled me since, is, that I am afraid I was too full of myself, and of thinking how happy I was, and what a privilege it was for one that was so young, to join in the service with so many grown people, so that I did not attend enough to the instruction which I might have received.  I remember, I foolishly applied every thing that was said to myself, so as it could mean nobody but myself, I was so full of my own thoughts.  All that assembly of people, seemed to me as if they were come together only to shew me the way of a church.  Not but I received some very affecting impressions from some things which I heard that day; but the standing up and the sitting down of the people; the organ; the singing;—­the way of all these things took up more of my attention than was proper; or I thought it did.  I believe I behaved better and was more serious when I went a second time, and a third time; for now we went as a regular thing every Sunday, and continued to do so, till, by a still further change for the better in my father’s circumstances, we removed to London.  Oh! it was a happy day for me my first going to St. Mary’s church:  before that day I used to feel like a little outcast in the wilderness, like one that did not belong to the world of Christian people.  I have never felt like a little outcast since.  But I never can hear the sweet noise of bells, that I don’t think of the angels singing, and what poor but pretty thoughts I had of angels in my uninstructed solitude.

X

ARABELLA HARDY

(By Charles Lamb)

I was born in the East Indies.  I lost my father and mother young.  At the age of five my relations thought it proper that I should be sent to England for my education.  I was to be entrusted to the care of a young woman who had a character for great humanity and discretion; but just as I had taken leave of my friends, and we were about to take our passage, the young woman was taken suddenly ill, and could not go on board.  In this unpleasant emergency, no one knew how to act.  The ship was at the very point of sailing, and it was the last ship which was to sail that season.  At last the captain, who was known to my friends, prevailed upon my relation who had come with us to see us embark, to leave the young woman on shore, and to let me embark separately.  There was no possibility of getting any other female