tion is the only incident of her life which permits the shadow of a smile; and even here our amusement is tempered by sympathy for the poor innocents who were compelled to read the "Original Stories," and to whom even Blake's charming illustrations must have brought scant relief. The plan of the work is one common to most juvenile fiction of the period. Caroline and Mary, being motherless, are placed under the care of Mrs. Mason, a lady of obtrusive wisdom and goodness, who shadows their infant lives, moralizes over every insignificant episode, and praises herself with honest assiduity. If Caroline is afraid of thunderstorms, Mrs. Mason explains that she fears no tempest, because "a mind is never truly great until the love of virtue overcomes the fear of death." If Mary behaves rudely to a visitor, Mrs. Mason contrasts her pupil's conduct with her own. "I have accustomed myself to think of others, and what they will suffer on all occasions," she observes; "and this loathness to offend, or even to hurt the feelings of another, is an instantaneous spring which actuates my conduct, and makes me
