e
of his neighbors. He and Sir John Belfield rode on horseback, and I had
the honor of attending the ladies in the sociable. Lady Belfield, who
was now become desirous of improving her own too relaxed domestic system
by the experience of Mrs. Stanley, told her how much she admired the
cheerful obedience of her children. She said, "she did not so much
wonder to see them so good, but she owned she was surprised to see them
so happy."

"I know not," replied Mrs. Stanley, "whether the increased
insubordination of children is owing to the new school of philosophy and
politics, but it seems to me to make part of the system. When I go
sometimes to stay with a friend in town to do business, she is always
making apologies that she can not go out with me--'her daughters want
the coach.' If I ask leave to see the friends who call on me in such a
room--'her daughters have company there, or they want the room for their
music, or it is preparing for the children's ball in the evening.' If a
messenger is required--'her daughters want the footman.' There certainly
prevails a spirit of independence, a revolutionary spirit, a separation
from the parent state. IT IS THE CHILDREN'S WORLD."

"You remind me, madam," said I, "of an old courtier, who being asked by
Louis XV., which age he preferred, his own or the present, replied, 'I
passed my youth in respecting old age, and I find I must now pass my old
age in respecting children.'"

"In some other houses," said Mrs. Stanley, "where we visit, besides that
of poor Mr. Reynolds, the children seem to have all the accommodation;
and I have observed that the convenience and comfort of the father is
but a subordinate consideration. The respectful terms of address are
nearly banished from the vocabulary of children, and the somewhat too
orderly manner which once prevailed is superseded by an incivility, a
roughness, a want of attention, which is surely not better than the
harmless formality which it has driven out."

Just as she had said this, we stopped at Mr. Reynolds's gate; neither he
nor his lady were at home. Mr. Stanley, who wished to show us a fine
reach of the river from the drawing-room window, desired the servant to
show us into it. There we beheld a curious illustration of what we had
heard. In the ample bow-window lay a confused heap of the glittering
spoils of the most expensive toys. Before the rich silk chairs knelt two
of the children, in the act of demolishing their fine pain