Now it is probably expected that I should mention the colour of their hair, their eyes, and enumerate all the charms of their persons. But as we do not contribute any thing either to our personal graces or defects, and consequently cannot derive any merit from the former, or disgrace from the latter, I consider those points of no importance, therefore, shall pass them over in silence. Mary, the eldest, was about nine years of age, her brother Henry about seven: the former, I understood, had been some time at school: it was now her vacation. Both of these children seemed to have been well brought up, for they were never at a loss for employment or amusement; were never lounging about on the chairs or sofas, or leaning listlessly against the fire-place. But what I particularly admired in them was the affection they evinced towards each other, and the attention they paid to every wish of their parents, though absent from them. In short, all their conduct seemed to proceed from some principle superior to self-gratification, or, in other words, they sought _true_ gratification, where only it was to be found—in the performance of their duty. As I was naturally fond of all children, it is easy to imagine that I became particularly attached to these, amiable as they were. I do not, however, mean to represent them to my young readers as models of perfection, for such would be as far beyond their imitation as they are from resembling nature. I have observed that all children have their faults; but those who are most patient of reproof, and most open to conviction, are also most likely to amend their trivial failings; for great defects such cannot have. Henry and Mary were certainly every thing their parents could wish, and their sensible grand-mamma was greatly delighted with them, yet she never extolled them when present: a single word of approbation, or an affectionate smile, repaid all their endeavours to please her. And, indeed, so sweet was her smile, so judicious her approbation, that the dear children seemed to desire nothing more. Though my good mistress did not indulge her young visitors in an unlimited manner, or teach them to be selfish by making their recreations the price of their good behaviour, yet she found means to amuse and improve them at the same time, by taking them to museums, manufactories, &c. where they saw a profusion of the works of nature and art. These morning excursions furnished subjects for conversation in the evening, which, with a magic-lantern, representing some of the most remarkable occurrences in history, a geographical game, and other similar recreations, filled up their time so agreeably, that the hour of rest always seemed to arrive too early; yet they did not on that account repine or loiter when the maid came for them, but went off immediately and cheerfully.