The tale interested the children, who chearfully attended, and after it was finished, Mrs. Mason told them, that as she had some letters to write, she could not take her accustomed walk; but that she would allow them to represent her, and act for once like women. They received their commission, it was to take the clothes to the poor woman, whom they were intended for; learn her present wants; exercise their own judgment with respect to the immediate relief she stood in need of, and act accordingly. They returned home delighted, eager to tell what they had done, and how thankful and happy they had left the poor woman. Observe now, said Mrs. Mason, the advantages arising from employment; three hours ago you were uncomfortable, without being sensible of the cause, and knew not what to do with yourselves. Nay, you actually committed a sin; for you devoured cakes without feeling hunger, merely to kill time, whilst many poor people have not the means of satisfying their natural wants. When I desired you to read to me, you were amused; and now you have been useful you are delighted. Recollect this in future when you are at a loss what to do with yourselves; and remember that idleness must always be intolerable, because it is only an irksome consciousness of existence. Every gift of Heaven is lent to us for our improvement; fancy is one of the first of the inferior ones; in cultivating it, we acquire what is called taste, or a relish for particular employments, which occupy our leisure hours, and raise us above the vulgar in our conversations. Those who have not any taste talk always of their own affairs or of their neighbours; every trivial matter that occurs within their knowledge they canvass and conjecture about—not so much out of ill-nature as idleness: just as you eat the cakes without the impulse of hunger. In the same style people talk of eating and dress, and long for their meals merely to divide the day, because the intermediate time is not employed in a more interesting manner. Every new branch of taste that we cultivate affords us a refuge from idleness, a fortress in which we may resist the assaults of vice; and the more noble our employments, the more exalted will our minds become.