JEMIMA PLACID;

OR, THE

ADVANTAGE

OF

GOOD - NATURE.

EXEMPLIFIED IN
A VARIETY OF FAMILIAR INCIDENTS.

A NEW EDITION.

LONDON:
Printed by t. c. hansard, Peterborough-court, Fleet-street, for
BALDWIN, CRADOCK, and JOY,
47, Paternoster-row; and
N. HAILES, Piccadilly.

1819.

PREFACE.

It has been often said, that infancy is the happiest state of human life, as being exempted from those serious cares, and that anxiety which must ever, in some degree, be an attendant on a more advanced age; but the Author of the following little performance is of a different opinion; and has ever considered the troubles of children as a severe exercise to their patience; when it is recollected that the vexations which they meet with are suited to the weakness of their understanding, and though trifling perhaps in themselves, acquire importance from their connexion with the puerile inclinations and bounded views of an infant mind, where present gratification is the whole they can comprehend, and therefore suffer in proportion when their wishes are obstructed.

The main design of this publication is, to prove, from example, that the pain of disappointment will be much increased by ill-temper; and that to yield to the force of necessity will be found wiser than vainly to oppose it. The contrast between the principal character, with the peevishness of her cousin's temper, is intended as an incitement to that placid disposition which will form the happiness of social life in every stage; and which, therefore, should not be thought beneath any one's attention, or undeserving of their cultivation.

JEMIMA PLACID;

OR, THE

ADVANTAGE

OF

GOOD - NATURE.

As I had nothing particular to do, I took a walk one morning as far as St. James's Park, where meeting with a lady of my acquaintance, she invited me to go home with her to breakfast; which invitation I accordingly complied with. Her two daughters had waited for her a considerable time, and expressed themselves to have been much disturbed at her stay. They afterwards fretted at the heat of the weather; and the youngest happening accidentally to tear her apron, she bewailed it the succeeding part of the day with so much appearance of vexation, that I could not help showing some degree of astonishment at her conduct; and having occasion afterwards to mention Miss Placid; I added, that she was the most agreeable girl I had ever known.

Miss Eliza, to whom I was speaking, said, That she had long wished to hear something farther concerning that young lady, as her mamma very frequently proposed her as an example, without mentioning the particulars of her conduct; but as I was so happy as to be favoured with her intimacy, she should be glad to hear a recital of those excellencies which acquired such universal approbation.

In compliance with this request, I wrote the following sheets, and dispatched them to Eliza, and by her desire it is that they are now submitted to the world; as she obligingly assured me, that her endeavours to imitate the calm disposition of the heroine of this history, had contributed so much to her own happiness, and increased the good opinion of her friends, that she wished to have so amiable an example made public for the advantage of others. I shall therefore present these memoirs to the world, just as they were sent to my young friend; and sincerely wish they may meet with as favourable a reception from the more general, as they did from a private perusal.

The high opinion, my dear Eliza, which you entertain of Jemima Placid, would, I assure you, be much increased upon a more intimate knowledge of her worth. The sweetness of her temper has made her the object of particular estimation among all her acquaintance; and I had the happiness to be admitted of that number at a very early period of her life. Mr. Placid is a clergyman of distinguished merit, and has been for many years the vicar of Smiledale. The situation of the parsonage is truly beautiful, but the income of the living is not very considerable; therefore, as the old gentleman has two sons with the young Jemima to provide for, it is necessary to be rather frugal in his expenses. Mrs. Placid was remarkably handsome in her youth, but the beauty of her person has been much impaired by a continued state of ill health, which she supports with such a degree of cheerful fortitude, as does honour to human nature. As she has had the advantage of a liberal education, and has been always accustomed to genteel company, her conversation is uncommonly agreeable; and her daughter has derived from her instructions, those engaging qualities, which are the most valuable endowments a parent can bestow. The eldest son, whose name is Charles, is about three years, and William, the youngest, near a year and a half older than his sister. Their dispositions are not in all respects so gentle as hers; yet, on the whole, they form the most agreeable family I have ever known.

When Jemima was about six years old, her mamma's health rendered it necessary that she should take a journey to Bristol; and it being out of her power to have Jemima with her, she left her with an aunt, whose name was Piner, and who had two daughters a few years older than their cousin. Miss Placid, who had never before been separated from her mamma, was severely hurt at the thought of leaving home; but as she was told it was absolutely necessary, she restrained her tears, from fear of increasing the uneasiness which her mamma experienced.

At last the day arrived, when her uncle (whom I before forgot to mention) and his wife came to dinner at Smiledale, with an intention of conducting Jemima back with them. She was in her papa's study at the time they alighted, and could not help weeping at the idea of quitting her friends; and throwing her arms around her brother William's neck, silently sobbed forth that grief she wanted power to restrain. The poor boy, who loved his sister with great tenderness, was nearly as much agitated as herself, and could only, with affectionate kisses, every now and then exclaim, Do not cry so, Jemima! pray do not! We shall soon meet again, my love! pray do not cry!—When she had relieved her little heart with this indulgence of her sorrow, she wiped her eyes, and walked slowly up stairs to have her frock put on.—So your aunt is come, miss? said Peggy, as she set down the basin on the table to wash her hands.—Poor Jemima was silent.—I am sorry we are going to lose you, my dear, added she, as she wiped the towel over her forehead, Peggy's hand held back her head, and at the same time supported her chin, so that her face was confined, and exposed to observation. She wanted to hide her tears, but she could not; so at last, hastily covering herself with the maid's apron, and putting her two hands round her waist, she renewed the sorrow which she had so lately suppressed.