Here you see is the same strong feeling,—­love of approbation, exercised in a wrong and a right direction.  The Pharisees wish for the approbation of men, good people wish for the approbation of God.

Now, love of approbation exists about much smaller matters than I have just been mentioning.  But I would warn my young readers, that, to be always thinking, and bothering yourselves as to what other people are thinking about you, is one of the most uncomfortable and injurious habits a person can get into.  It makes them so selfish and egotistical.  And here was one of Aurora’s dangers.  Because she knew she was pretty, she was always wondering what other people were thinking about her, a habit which so far from contributing to what the good Fairy had wished, viz. her happiness, was constantly spoiling her comfort from hour to hour.  And here, at ten years old, was this little lady swinging languidly and idly on the rocking chair, wishing it was six o’clock, instead of enjoying, as she might so well have done, that small portion of time, time present, which is, as I told you before, the only bit of him we can ever lay hold of, as it were.  Of time present, just then, she thought nothing.  She would have said, (had she been asked), that the old gentleman moved very slowly in spite of his wings, for her eye was fixed on that delightful time future, six o’clock.  Well! at last the clock struck, and Aurora sprang from her chair,—­her whole face altered in a moment.  “Now, Nurse, I may dress, may I not?” she exclaimed, radiant with animation, and all the languor and dreaminess gone over like a cloud from before the sun.  And it is true that just then Aurora was happy.  It was a pleasant task to her to arrange and smooth that curling hair, and to put on the simple white dress she knew set off her beauty so well.  But alas! for the happiness caused by thoughts of one’s self!  The toilet over, she ran down to her Mamma, and was welcomed with a smile of fondness and approbation.  Indeed, when she was happy, a sweeter face could not be seen, for she was not a naughty child, and if it had not been for the Fairy gift, I do think she would have been a very nice one.

The Fairies who invisibly had witnessed all I have described to you, were not so loud in their admiration of Aurora as you or I might have been.  They are so handsome themselves, they think but little of earthly beauty, and even Ianthe could not conscientiously say, “What a happy looking little girl she is.”  That was just the one thing that was wanting:  ay, and it continued wanting even after the room was filled with company, and she was petted, and caressed, and praised on every side.  Her spirits became very high, however, and she enjoyed herself much; and it is perhaps only very very critical folk, bent on spying out a fault, that could have detected the little clouds of anxiety that now and then shot across her face.  A thought of whether her curls were all right, or her dress untumbled, &c. just now and then disturbed the charm, and prevented her forgetting herself sufficiently to allow her to be quite at ease and happy, and she would glance at herself in the mirror, and put back the hair from her brow, lest Mrs. I-know-not-who, who was just then entering the room, should not think her quite as lovely as Mrs. Somebody-else did, who had very foolishly been saying so rather in a loud tone to her Mamma.