_Mrs. B._ I do not think any one could avoid thinking favourably of Mary; nor do I wish to check a generous sentiment in favour of a stranger, at any time, my dear children. Caution is necessary, but suspicion is hateful; and I would rather you should be often deceived, than never feel a confidence. When I was young, I was once imposed upon by a person quite as pleasing in manners and appearance as the young cottager. I was warned that there was danger in trusting to appearances, but disdained the caution of those who were older and wiser than myself. I suffered for my folly, and would have you learn prudence from my experience. _Louisa_. Do, mamma, tell us the story. I dare say it is an interesting one. _Mrs. B._ Not at present, my dear; your father wishes to hear what history you have read since Saturday. Besides, an account of the depravity of a fellow-creature, can never be a very interesting topic of conversation. _Louisa._. No mamma, certainly it is not: but how did she impose upon you? You are so careful, you know--so prudent. _Mrs. B_ But at that time I was credulous and imprudent, as I have already told you, my dear, and was deceived by a pleasing address, and a mournful tale. _Louisa_. Oh, do tell me, dear mamma. I do love a mournful tale. _Mrs. B._ But this was, in all probability, a fabricated story, to impose on the incautious: at least, I have every reason to consider it so. I found out so many untruths, that I was inclined to think the whole a complete falsehood. But we will not dwell longer upon this subject at present: at some future time, if we have nothing upon which we can more profitably employ our attention, I may perhaps give you a full account of the affair; but I have mentioned it to your father before, and will not, therefore, trouble him to listen to a repetition, as nothing is more tedious than a twice-told tale. _Ferdinand_. I want to ask you a question, papa, before we begin our history. It is quite different from any thing we have been hitherto talking of, to be sure; but I was reading a book to-day, in which, speaking of some crime, it mentioned that it was punished by death, without benefit of clergy. Now I do not know what benefit of clergy means, and I thought you would be so good as to explain it to me. _Mr. B._ That I shall most willingly, my dear boy. In order to encourage the art of reading in England, which formerly made but slow progress, the capital punishment for murder was remitted if the criminal could read; and this, in law-language, is termed benefit of clergy. _Edward._ I should think the art must have made very rapid progress, when so highly favoured. _Mr. B._ It does not appear that this was the case; for so small an edition of the Bible as six hundred copies, translated into English, in the reign of Henry the Eighth, was not completely sold in three years.