To enter on a state of dependence amidst scenes which had witnessed my better fortunes,--to be recognised in a condition little removed from servitude by those who had seen me at the summit of prosperity,--to meet scorn in the glances of once envious rivals,--and pity in the eye of once rejected lovers, would have furnished exercise for more humility than I had yet attained. Almost the first resolution which I formed on the subject was, that the scene of my labours should be far distant from London. Other circumstances in the situation which I was about to seek, I determined not to weigh too fastidiously; for though the most ambiguous praise from a person of fashion is often thought sufficient introduction to the most momentous of trusts, I had seen enough of the world to know, that it would be difficult to obtain the office of a teacher upon the mere strength of my acquaintance with what I pretended to teach; and I was resolved to owe no recommendation to any of those summer friends, by whom I seemed now utterly neglected and forgotten. To the clergyman, whose compassion my dying friend had claimed for me, I explained my situation and my purpose. He showed me every kindness which genuine benevolence could dictate,--offered to write in my behalf to a married sister settled in a remote part of the kingdom,--and invited me to reside in his family till I found a preferable situation. Meanwhile, a most unexpected occurrence placed me beyond the reach of immediate want. Among Miss Mortimer's papers was found a sealed packet addressed to me. It enclosed a bank-bill for 300_l._; and in the envelope these words were written:-- 'My dear Ellen, use the enclosed sum without scruple and without enquiry; for it is your own. Mine it never was, and none else has any claim upon it. It came into my possession within this hour, from whence you may never know; but I will conceal it till all is over, lest you squander upon the dying that which the living will need. 'E. MORTIMER.' I instantly conjectured that this sum was the gift of Mr Maitland. 'And yet,' said I to myself, 'he has no interest in me now, except such as he would take in any one whom he thought unfortunate. Perhaps--if I could see his letters to Miss Mortimer--but I am sure his sentiments are of no consequence to me,--only, if this money be really his, I ought undoubtedly to restore it; and this from no impulse of pride certainly. Is there not a wide difference between humility and meanness?' Persuading myself, that it was quite necessary to ascertain the true owner of the money, I obtained permission to examine the correspondence which my friend had left behind. I found it to contain many letters from Mr Maitland, but only one in which I was mentioned, otherwise than in the words of common courtesy; and of that one, the tantalising caution of my friend had spared only the following fragment:--