2. "The incident, my little friend, which has just occurred, may be of some use to you in after life, if it be suitably improved. Young people are usually very enthusiastic in all their undertakings, and in the same proportion are very easily discouraged.

3. "Learn, then, from what has taken place this morning, to persevere in the business which you have commenced, provided it be laudable in itself; and, ten to one, you will succeed. If you do not at first obtain what you aim at, knock again. A door may be opened when you least expect it.

4. "In entering on the practice of a profession, engaging in trade, or what is usually called settling in the world, young people often meet with great disappointments.

5. "Friends, whom they naturally expected to employ them, not unfrequently prefer others in the same line; and even professors of religion do not seem to consider it a duty to promote the temporal interest of their brethren in the Lord.

6. "Nevertheless, industry, sobriety, and patience, are usually accompanied by the Divine blessing. Should you therefore, my little friend, ever experience disappointments of this kind, think of the brass knocker; knock again; be sober, be diligent, and your labors will be blessed.

7. "In the pursuit of philosophy many difficulties are encountered. These the student must expect to meet; but he must not relinquish the investigation of truth, because it seems to elude his search. He may knock at the gate of science, and apparently without being heard. But let him knock again, and he will find an entrance."



LESSON XXVII.

The same subject, concluded.

1. "Do you ever pray to God? I hope and trust you do. God commands and encourages us to pray to him. But he does not always answer our prayers at the time, or in the way, we expect.

2. "What then? We know that he hears them. We know that he is a gracious God, a reconciled Father in Christ. Let us knock again. Let us ask in faith, and, if what we ask be pleasing in his sight, he will grant it in his own good time.

3. "You know who it was that said, 'Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened.'

4. "Once more: our progress in the Divine life, even after we have wholly given ourselves to the Lord, does not always equal our wishes or expectations. We find much indwelling sin, much remaining corruption, to struggle with.

5. "But let us not despond. The grace of our Lord is sufficient for us, and his strength is made perfect in our weakness. Let us knock again.

6. "Let us continue, with humble confidence, to do what we know to be pleasing in our Master's sight. Let us work out our own salvation, with fear and trembling; for it is God that worketh in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure."

7. We had now reached the gate of my father's garden; and the good old gentleman, taking me kindly by the hand, bid me try to remember what he had said. He then went his way, and I saw him no more.

8. I afterward endeavored to find out who he was; but I did not succeed. His advice, however, sunk deep into my mind, and has often been of singular value to me since.

9. My disposition is naturally sanguine, and my disappointments proportionably acute. But, upon calling to mind the old mansion, the brass knocker, and my venerable counselor, I have frequently been led to knock again, when I might otherwise have sat down in despondency.

10. I hope that many of my readers will derive similar benefit from the perusal of this little history; for the sole end of its publication will be answered, if the young persons under whose eyes it may come be induced, at every season of doubt and perplexity, in the exercise of simple confidence in God, to knock again.



LESSON XXVIII

Make Good Use of your Time.—EMMA C. EMBURY.



1. "My dear Anna," said Mrs. Elmore, as she bade her little girl farewell, "I shall be absent ten days; and as you have already had so many lessons from me respecting the manner of distributing your hours of amusement and study, I will only say to you, now, 'Make good use of your time.'"

2. Anna's eyes filled with tears as the carriage drove off, and she felt very lonely when she returned to the parlor without her mother. She thought over her mother's parting words, until she felt quite proud of the confidence reposed in her, and resolved not to abuse it by neglect.

3. She accordingly took her books and sat down to her studies, as attentively as if her mother had been waiting to hear her recitation.

4. Anna was an affectionate, intelligent child. She would have made any sacrifices to please her mother, and she really loved her studies; but her one great fault was a disposition to loiter away time.

5. This her mother well knew; and after trying admonition, until she almost feared she was increasing the evil by allowing Anna to depend too much upon her guidance, she determined to test the effect of leaving her to her own responsibility.

6. For an hour after her mother's departure, Anna sat in close attention to her studies. All at once, she started up. "I am so hungry," said she, "I must go to Betty for some luncheon;—but stop—I will finish my exercise first."

7. She wrote a line or two; then throwing down her pen, petulantly exclaimed, "There! I have made two mistakes, because I was in such a hurry;—I will not finish it till I come back."

8. So away ran the little girl to her old nurse, and the next half-hour was spent in satisfying her hunger. As she was returning, with laggard step, she happened to spy, from the window, a beautiful butterfly fluttering about the rose-bushes in the garden; and, quite forgetting her unfinished exercise, away she flew in chase of the butterfly.

9. But, agile as were her movements, the insect was too nimble for her; and after an hour's race beneath the burning sun, she returned, flushed and overheated, without having succeeded in its capture.

10. Again she applied herself to her books; but study was not so easy now as it would have been a little earlier. Anna was too tired to apply her mind to her lessons; and after loitering a while over her desk, she threw herself on the sofa, and fell into a sound sleep, from which she was only awakened by a summons to dinner.

11. After dinner, Betty proposed taking her out to walk; and though conscious that she had not performed half her duties, she had not resolution enough to refuse to go. Tying on her bonnet, she took a little basket on her arm, and set out with Betty to gather wild-flowers.

12. When they reached the woods, Betty sought out a mossy seat under an old tree, and, taking her work from her pocket, began to sew as industriously as if she had been at home.

13. "O Betty!" exclaimed Anna, "how can you sit and sew, when there are so many pleasant sights and sounds around you?"

14. "I can hear the pleasant sounds, my child, without looking round to see where they come from," replied Betty; "and as for the pretty sights, though I can enjoy them as much as any one, I cannot neglect my work for them.

15. "I promised your mother to have these shirts finished when she came home, and I mean to do so."—"Dear me!" said the little girl, "I wish I had brought my book, and I might have studied my lesson here."

16. "No, no, Anna," said the old woman; "little girls can't study in the woods, with the birds singing and the grasshoppers chirping around them. Better attend to your books in-doors."

17. Betty continued her sewing; and towards sunset, when they arose to return, she had stitched a collar and a pair of wristbands, while Anna had filled her basket with flowers.

18. As they approached the village, Betty called at a poor cottage, to inquire after a sick child, and Anna was shocked at the poverty and wretchedness of the inmates. The little children were only half clothed, their faces were covered with dirt, and their rough locks seemed to bid defiance to the comb.

19. Pitying the condition of the poor little girls, Anna determined to provide them with some better clothing; and she returned home full of benevolent projects.

20. The next morning, as soon as she rose, she began to look over her wardrobe; and selecting three frocks which she had outgrown, she carried them to Betty, to alter for Mrs. Wilson's children.

21. "I shall do no such thing," said Betty; "Mrs. Wilson's children are not suffering for clothes; the weather is warm, and they are as well clad as they will be the day after they are dressed up in your finery.

22. "Mrs. Wilson is an untidy, slovenly woman; and though your mother charged me to look after her sick baby, she did not tell me to furnish new clothes for the other dirty little brats!"

23. "Well, Betty, if you don't choose to do it, I'll try it myself."—"Pretty work you'll make of it, to be sure! you will just cut the frocks to pieces, and then they will fit nobody."

24. "Well, I am determined to fix them for those poor little ragged children," said Anna; "and if you will not help me, I will get Kitty the chambermaid to do it."



LESSON XXIX.

The same subject, continued.

1. Anna found a very good assistant in the warm-hearted, thoughtless Irish girl. Kitty cut out the frocks, and Anna sat herself down to make them.

2. She found it rather tedious work, and, if she had not been afraid of Betty's ridicule, she would have been tempted to throw her task aside; but as Kitty promised to help her, as soon as her household duties were completed, Anna determined to persevere.

3. When night came, she had finished one frock, and begun another; so she went to bed quite happy, forgetting that, in her benevolent zeal, she had neglected her studies and her music, as well as her mother's plants and her own Canary-bird.

4. The next day, she again went to work at the frocks, and, with Kitty's assistance, they were completed before tea-time. Never was a child happier than Anna, when she saw the three little frocks spread out upon the bed.

5. A degree of self-satisfaction was mingled with her benevolence, and she began to think how pleased her mother would be to learn how hard she had worked in the cause of charity. She ran off for Betty to take her down to Mrs. Wilson's cottage; but she found Betty in no humor to gratify her.

6. "I'll have nothing to do with it!" said the old woman. "Kitty helped you to spoil your pretty frocks, and she may help you dress the dirty children;—they will look fine, to be sure, in your French calico dresses!"

7. Anna was too happy to mind Betty's scolding; so away she flew to find Kitty, and they set off together for Mrs. Wilson's cottage. When they arrived there, they found the children by the edge of the pond making dirt pies, while their faces and hands bore testimony to their industry.

8. Kitty stripped and washed them, though nothing but the bribe of a new frock could have induced them to submit to so unusual an operation. Anna almost danced with pleasure, when she beheld their clean faces, well-combed locks, and new dresses.



9. Her mother had now been three days gone, and Anna felt that she had not quite fulfilled her trust. But she satisfied herself with the thought that two days had been devoted to a charitable purpose, and she was sure her mother would think that she had made good use of that portion of her time.

10. The fourth day, she determined to make amends for past neglect, by studying double lessons. She went to her room and locked the door, resolving to perform all her duties on that day, at least.

11. She had scarcely commenced her studies, however, when she recollected that she had not watered her mother's plants since she had been gone. She threw down her books, and running into the garden, sought her little watering-pot; but it was not to be found.

12. She was sure she had put it either in the summer-house, or the tool-house, or under the piazza, or somewhere. After spending half an hour in search of it, she remembered that she had left it under the great elm-tree, in the field.

13. By this time, the sun was shining with full vigor upon the delicate plants; and, forgetting her mother's caution to water them only in the shade, she overwhelmed the parched leaves with a deluge of water, and went off quite content.

14. She then thought of her bird; and on examining his cage, found that he could reach neither the seed nor the water. So she replenished his cups, decorated his cage with fresh chickweed, treated him to a lump of sugar, and played with him until she had loitered away the best part of the morning.

15. Immediately after dinner, a little friend came to see her, and the rest of the day was consumed in dressing dolls, or arranging her baby-house.



LESSON XXX.

The same subject, concluded.

1. On the fifth day, she summoned courage enough to persevere, and actually performed every task with attention.

2. In the afternoon, Betty took her out to walk, and Anna coaxed her into a visit to Mrs. Wilson's cottage. What was her indignation, as she approached the house, to see the children again playing on the margin of the duck-pond!

3. As soon as they saw her, they ran to hide themselves, but not until she had observed that their new frocks were as dirty, and almost as ragged, as the old ones. Betty did not fail to make Anna fully sensible of her own superior wisdom.

4. "I told you so, child," said she; "I told you it was all nonsense to try to dress up those dirty creatures; much good you have done, to be sure!" Anna almost cried with vexation, as she thought of all the time and labor she had wasted upon her benevolent task, and she walked home with a heavy heart.

5. The next morning, she had scarcely risen from the breakfast-table, when Kitty came to show her a beautiful little ship, which, her brother, who was a sailor, had made for her, as a token of remembrance.



6. Anna was delighted with it; nothing could be more beautiful than its graceful form, its delicate rigging and snowy sails. She begged to have it set on her table, that she might see it while she was studying, and the good-natured Kitty left it with her.

7. But in vain the heedless child tried to study; her eyes and thoughts wandered perpetually to the pretty toy before her. "How I should like to see it sail!" said she to herself. The more she looked at it, the more anxious she became to see it in the water.

8. At length, taking it carefully up, she stole down stairs, and hurried across the garden to a little brook in the adjacent field. Here she launched her tiny bark; but it had scarcely touched the water, when it turned over on its side. She then recollected that she had once heard her father speak of the manner of ballasting a ship; so she hastened to gather a quantity of small stones, with which she filled the little cabin.

9. Again she intrusted her ship to the crystal streamlet; but, alas! the weight of the stones carried it straight to the bottom. There it lay in the pebbly channel, with the clear waters rippling above it, and the little girl stood aghast upon the brink.

10. She bared her arm, and attempted to reach it, but without success. At length, while making a desperate effort to regain it, she lost her balance, and fell into the water.

11. Fortunately, the water was not deep, and she soon scrambled out again; but she was thoroughly wet, and, having been very warm before the accident, she was now chilled to the heart.

12. Grasping the little ship, the cause of all the mischief, she hurried home, and creeping softly into the kitchen, sought her friend Kitty, to screen her from Betty's anger. By this time she was shivering with a violent ague, and Kitty carried her immediately to Betty.

13. Poor Anna! she was now obliged to be put to bed, and to take some of Betty's bitter herb tea, seasoned too with scolding, and all kinds of evil predictions. She felt very unhappy, and cried sadly; but repentance, in this case, came too late.

14. Her head began to ache dreadfully; her skin was parched with fever, and before the next morning she was very ill. She had taken a violent cold, which brought on an attack of scarlet fever; and when Mrs. Elmore returned, she found her little daughter stretched on a bed of sickness.

15. How did that fond mother tremble, as she watched by the bedside of her darling child, uncertain whether she would ever again lift up her head from her uneasy pillow!

16. Anna did not know her mother in the delirium of fever, and her melancholy cry of "Mother! mother! come back!—I will never be so bad again!" wrung Mrs. Elmore's heart.

17. For three weeks Anna lay between life and death; and when she was at length pronounced out of danger, she was as helpless as an infant.

18. One day, as she sat propped up by pillows, she told her mother all that had passed during her absence, and awaited her decision respecting the use she had made of her time.

19. "My dear child," said Mrs. Elinore, "I trust the past will afford a lesson you will never forget. So far from having made good use of your time, you have done harm in everything you have undertaken.

20. "Your attempts at study, instead of affording you any real instruction, have only given you habits of inattention, which you will find very difficult to overcome; for your eyes have wandered over the page, while your thoughts have been with the fool's, to the ends of the earth.

21. "Your irregular care of my plants, which you thought would serve instead of habitual attention, has been the means of destroying them as effectually as if you had allowed them to perish from total neglect.

22. "Your injudicious benevolence to the Wilsons served only to make the children envious of each other, without giving them habits of neatness, which are essential to the well-being of such a family; while it had a worse effect upon yourself, because it not only wasted your precious time, but excited in you a feeling of vanity, on account of what you considered a good action.

23. "If, instead of trusting so boldly to your good resolutions, you had entered upon your duties with an humble mind, and resolved to try to do right,—if you had apportioned your time with some degree of regularity,—you might have performed all that was required of you, enjoyed all your amusements, and gratified every kindly feeling, without a single self-reproach.

24. "As it is, you feel sensible of having failed in everything,—of having exposed yourself to great peril, and subjected your mother to great anxiety, simply from your disposition to loiter, when you should labor.

25. "I trust that, in the solitude of your sick chamber, 'the still small voice' of your many wasted hours has made itself heard, and that hereafter you will not so utterly fail to make good use of your time."



LESSON XXXI.

Verse, or Poetry.

1. All the lessons in this book which you have thus far read have been in prose. I intend to give you some lessons in verse, or, as it is sometimes, but improperly called, poetry.

2. There is a great deal of difference between verse and poetry; but as this book is intended for those who are not quite old enough to understand all these differences, I shall not attempt at present to point them out to you.

3. But I wish you first to understand the difference, which you can see with your eye, between prose and verse. The lines of verse often end in what are called rhymes. Thus, if one line ends with the word found, the next line ends with a word which sounds very much like it, as ground, round, bound, sound, hound, wound.

4. These are called rhymes. Here are a few such lines.

IMPROVEMENT OF TIME.

"Defer not till to-morrow to be wise; To-morrow's sun to thee may never rise."

BEST USE OF MONEY.

"When wealth to virtuous hands is given, It blesses like the dew of Heaven; Like Heaven, it hears the orphan's cries, And wipes the tears from widow's eyes."

5. Sometimes the rhymes occur in alternate lines; that is, two lines come together which are not rhymes, and are followed by two lines to make rhymes to both, as follows:

"Let the sweet work of prayer and praise Employ our youngest breath; Thus we're prepared for longer days, Or fit for early death."

6. There are some kinds of verses that do not rhyme. These are called blank verse. Here is an example of blank verse:

"Mark well, my child, he said; this little stream Shall teach thee charity. It is a source I never knew to fail: directed thus Be that soft stream, the fountain of thy heart. For, oh! my much-loved child, I trust thy heart Has those affections that shall bless thyself; And, flowing softly like this little rill, Cheer all that droop. The good man did not err."

7. Now, there are several things that I wish you to notice in these lines. In the first place, if you will count the syllables, you will find that there are exactly ten syllables in each line; and it is always the case, that in verse it is necessary that there should be a certain number of syllables of a certain kind.

8. What that number is, I cannot now explain to you; but you will be able to understand from a book called a grammar, which you will probably study at some future time, if you do not study it now. It is contained in that part of grammar called Prosody.

9. The next thing I wish you to notice is, that every line of verse always begins with a capital letter.

10. And thirdly you will notice, that the lines of verse are more regular in their sound than lines of prose. They have a kind of musical sound about them, which you very rarely hear, except in verse.

11. And fourthly you will notice, that some of the words are shortened by leaving out a letter, and putting in its place a mark called an apostrophe, which looks just like a comma, only it is placed higher up in the line, as in the following line:

"Thus we're prepared for longer days."

12. In this line, if the words were written out at full length, with all their letters in them, the line would stand as follows:

"Thus we are prepared for longer days."

13. But this would destroy what is called the measure of the line, by putting too many syllables into it; and therefore the words we are are shortened, so as to be read as one syllable, and the line is to be read as follows:

"Thus weer prepared for longer days."

14. The next difference I shall point out to you between prose and verse, is that in verse the words are placed in a different order from what they would be in prose; as you will notice in the following lines:

"When all thy mercies, oh my God! My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love and praise."

15. Now, if these lines were written in prose, the words would stand in the following order: "O my God! when my rising soul surveys all thy mercies, I'm transported with the view of them, and lost in wonder, love and praise."

16. And now that I have explained to you a few of the points in which verse differs from prose, I will only add, that when you read verse, you must not stop at the end of every line, unless there is a pause or mark there; and that you must avoid reading it as if you were singing it to a tune.



LESSON XXXII.

God Present Everywhere.

1. Thou, Lord, by strictest search hast known My rising up and lying down; My secret thoughts are known to thee, Known long before conceived by me.

2. Surrounded by thy power I stand, On every side I find thy hand: O skill for human reach too high! Too dazzling bright for mortal eye!

3. From thy all-seeing Spirit, Lord, What hiding-place does earth afford? O where can I thy influence shun, Or whither from thy presence run?

4. If up to heaven I take my flight, 'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light; If to the world unseen, my God, There also hast thou thine abode.

5. If I the morning's wings could gain, And fly beyond the western main; E'en there, in earth's remotest land, I still should find thy guiding hand.

6. Or, should I try to shun thy sight Beneath the sable wings of night; One glance from thee, one piercing ray, Would kindle darkness into day.

7. The veil of night is no disguise, No screen from thy all-searching eyes; Through midnight shades thou find'st thy way, As in the blazing noon, of day.

8. Thou know'st the texture of my heart, My reins, and every vital part: I'll praise thee, from whose hands I came A work of such a wondrous frame.

9. Let me acknowledge too, O God, That since this maze of life I trod, Thy thoughts of love to me surmount The power of numbers to recount.

10. Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart, If mischief lurk in any part; Correct me where I go astray, And guide me in thy perfect way.



LESSON XXXIII.

Devotion.

1. While thee I seek, protecting Power, Be my vain wishes stilled; And may this consecrated hour With better hopes be filled.

2. Thy love the power of thought stowed, To thee my thoughts would soar: Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed, That mercy I adore.

3. In each event of life, how clear Thy ruling hand I see! Each blessing to my soul more dear, Because conferred by thee.

4. In every joy that crowns my days, In every pain I bear, My heart shall find delight in praise, Or seek relief in prayer.

5. When gladness wings my favored hour, Thy love my thoughts shall fill; Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower, My soul shall meet thy will.

6. My lifted eye, without a tear, The gathering storm shall see; My steadfast heart shall know no fear— That heart will rest on thee.



LESSON XXXIV.

The Gardener and the Hog.—GAY.

1. A gardener, of peculiar taste, On a young hog his favor placed, Who fed not with the common herd,— His tray was to the hall preferred; He wallowed underneath the board, Or in his master's chamber snored, Who fondly stroked him every day, And taught him all the puppy's play.

2. Where'er he went, the grunting friend Ne'er failed his pleasure to attend. As on a time the loving pair Walked forth to tend the garden's care, The master thus addressed the swine:

3. "My house, my garden, all is thine: On turnips feast whene'er you please, And riot in my beans and peas; If the potato's taste delights, Or the red carrot's sweet invites, Indulge thy morn and evening hours, But let due care regard my flowers; My tulips are my garden's pride— What vast expense these beds supplied!"

4. The hog, by chance, one morning roamed Where with new ale the vessels foamed; He munches now the steaming grains, Now with full swill the liquor drains; Intoxicating fumes arise, He reels, he rolls his winking eyes; Then, staggering, through the garden scours, And treads down painted ranks of flowers; With delving snout he turns the soil, And cools his palate with the spoil.

5. The master came,—the ruin spied. "Villain, suspend thy rage!" he cried: "Hast then, thou most ungrateful sot, My charge, my only charge, forgot? What, all my flowers?" No more he said; But gazed, and sighed, and hung his head.

6. The hog, with stuttering speech, returns:— "Explain, sir, why your anger burns; See there, untouched, your tulips strown, For I devoured the roots alone!"

7. At this the gardener's passion grows; From oaths and threats he fell to blows; The stubborn brute the blows sustains, Assaults his leg, and tears the veins. Ah! foolish swain, too late you find That sties were for such friends designed!

8. Homeward he limps with painful pace, Reflecting thus on past disgrace: Who cherishes a brutal mate, Shall mourn the folly soon or late.



LESSON XXXV.

The Hare and many Friends.—GAY.

1. A hare, who, in a civil way, Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the bestial train Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain. Her care was never to offend, And every creature was her friend.

2. As forth she went, at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.

3. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath; She hears the near advance of death; She doubles to mislead the hound, And measures back her mazy round; Till, fainting in the public way, Half dead with fear, she gasping lay.

4. What transport in her bosom grew, When first the horse appeared in view! "Let me," says she, "your back ascend, And owe my safety to a friend. You know my feet betray my flight,— To friendship every burden's light."

5. The horse replied:—"Poor honest puss, It grieves my heart to see thee thus. Be comforted,—relief is near; For all your friends are in the rear."

6. She next the stately bull implored; And thus replied the mighty lord:— "Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well, I may, without offense, pretend To take the freedom of a friend. Love calls me hence; a favorite cow Expects me near yon barley-mow; And when a lady's in the case, You know all other things give place. To leave you thus might seem unkind; But see,—the goat is just behind."

7. The goat remarked her pulse was high, Her languid head, her heavy eye,— "My back," says he, "may do you harm; The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."

8. The sheep was feeble, and complained His sides a load of wool sustained: Said he was slow, confessed his fears; For hounds eat sheep, as well as hares.

9. She now the trotting calf addressed, To save from death a friend distressed. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler passed you by; How strong are those! how weak am I!

10. "Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offense. Excuse me, then,—you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu! For see,—the hounds are just in view."

11. 'Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend.



LESSON XXXVI.

Maxims.—SELECTED.

Never delay until to-morrow what you can do to-day.

Never trouble others for what you can do yourself.

Never spend your money before you have it.

Never buy what you do not want, because it is cheap.

Pride costs more than hunger, thirst, or cold.

We never repent of having eaten too little.

Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.

How much pains have those evils cost us which never happened!

Take things always by their smooth handle.

When angry, count ten before you speak; if very angry, a hundred.

Hear as little as possible spoken against others; and believe nothing of the kind, until you are absolutely forced to believe it.

Always believe that if you heard what may be said on the other side of the question, a very different account of the matter might be given.

Do to others what you would have them do to you.



LESSON XXXVII.

How to be Happy.—CHILD AT HOME.

1. Every child must have observed how much happier and more beloved some children are than others. There are some children whom you always love to be with. They are happy themselves, and they make you happy.

2. There are others, whose society you always avoid. The very expression of their countenances produces unpleasant feelings. They seem to have no friends.

3. No person can be happy without friends. The heart is formed for love, and cannot be happy without the opportunity of giving and receiving affection.

4. But you cannot receive affection, unless you will also give it. You cannot find others to love you, unless you will also love them. Love is only to be obtained by giving love in return. Hence the importance of cultivating a cheerful and obliging disposition. You cannot be happy without it.

5. I have sometimes heard a girl say, "I know that I am very unpopular at school." Now, this is a plain confession that she is very disobliging and unamiable in her disposition.

6. If your companions do not love you, it is your own fault. They cannot help loving you, if you will be kind and friendly. If you are not loved, it is a good evidence that you do not deserve to be loved. It is true, that a sense of duty may, at times, render it necessary for you to do that which will be displeasing to your companions.

7. But, if it is seen that you have a noble spirit, that you are above selfishness, that you are willing to make sacrifices of your own personal convenience to promote the happiness of your associates, you will never be in want of friends.

8. You must not regard it as your misfortune that others do not love you, but your fault. It is not beauty, it is not wealth, that will give you friends. Your heart must glow with kindness, if you would attract to yourself the esteem and affection of those by whom you are surrounded.

9. You are little aware how much the happiness of your whole life depends upon the cultivation of an affectionate and obliging disposition. If you will adopt the resolution that you will confer favors whenever you have an opportunity, you will certainly be surrounded by ardent friends.

10. Begin upon this principle in childhood, and act upon it through life, and you will make yourself happy, and promote the happiness of all within your influence.

11. You go to school on a cold winter morning. A bright fire is blazing upon the hearth, surrounded with boys struggling to get near it to warm themselves. After you get slightly warmed, another school-mate comes in, suffering with cold. "Here, James," you pleasantly call out to him, "I am almost warm; you may have my place."

12. As you slip aside to allow him to take your place at the fire, will he not feel that you are kind? The worst dispositioned boy in the world cannot help admiring such generosity.

13. And even though he be so ungrateful as to be unwilling to return the favor, you may depend upon it that he will be your friend as far as he is capable of friendship. If you will habitually act upon this principle, you will never want friends.

14. Suppose, some day, you were out with your companions, playing ball. After you had been playing for some time, another boy comes along. He cannot be chosen upon either side, for there is no one to match him. "Henry," you say, "you may take my place a little while, and I will rest."

15. You throw yourself down upon the grass, while Henry, fresh and vigorous, takes your bat and engages in the game. He knows that you gave up to accommodate him; and how can he help liking you for it?

16. The fact is, that neither man nor child can cultivate such a spirit of generosity and kindness, without attracting affection and esteem.

17. Look and see which of your companions have the most friends, and you will find that they are those who have this noble spirit,—who are willing to deny themselves, that they may make their associates happy.

18. This is not peculiar to childhood. It is the same in all periods of life. There is but one way to make friends; and that is, by being friendly to others.

19. Perhaps some child, who reads this, feels conscious of being disliked, and yet desires to have the affection of his companions. You ask me what you shall do. I will tell you.

20. I will give you an infallible rule. Do all in your power to make others happy. Be willing to make sacrifices of your own convenience, that you may promote the happiness of others.

21. This is the way to make friends, and the only way. When you are playing with your brothers and sisters at home, be always ready to give them more than their share of privileges.

22. Manifest an obliging disposition, and they cannot but regard you with affection. In all your intercourse with others, at home or abroad, let these feelings influence you, and you will receive a rich reward.



LESSON XXXVIII.

Obedience and Disobedience.—CHILD'S COMPANION.

1. You have never disobeyed your parents, or your teachers, or any who have been placed in authority over you, without being uncomfortable and unhappy! Obedience, in a child, is one of the most necessary qualities; for it protects him from all the evils of his want of experience, and gives him the benefit of the experience of others.

2. One fine summer's day, I went to spend an afternoon at a house in the country, where some young people were enjoying a holiday.

3. They were running cheerfully up and down a meadow, covered over with yellow crocuses, and other flowers; and I looked on them with delight, while they gamboled and made posies, as they felt disposed.

"Here sister with sister roamed over the mead, And brother plucked flow'rets with brother; And playmates with playmates ran on with such speed That the one tumbled over the other."

4. Now, they all had been told to keep away from the ditch at the bottom of the field; but, notwithstanding this injunction, one little urchin, of the name of Jarvis, seeing a flower in the hedge on the opposite bank, which he wished to gather, crept nearer and nearer to the ditch.

5. The closer he got to the flower, the more beautiful it appeared to be, and the stronger the temptation became to pluck it.

6. Now, what right had he to put himself in the way of temptation? The field, as I said before, was covered over with flowers; and that in the hedge was no better than the rest, only it was a forbidden flower, and when anything is forbidden it becomes, on that very account, a greater temptation to a disobedient heart.

7. Jarvis had gathered a whole handful of flowers before he saw the one growing in the hedge; but he threw all these away, so much was his mind set on getting the one which he wanted.

8. Unluckily for him, in getting down the bank, his foot slipped, and down he rolled into a bed of stinging nettles, at the bottom of the ditch, which fortunately happened to have in it but little water.

9. Jarvis screamed out with might and main, as he lay on his back; for, whichever way he turned, his cheeks and his fingers brushed against the nettles.



10. His cries soon brought his companions around him; but, as they were all young, they knew not how to render him assistance, on account of the stinging nettles, and the depth of the ditch.

11. I ran to the spot, and pulled up Master Jarvis in a pretty pickle, his jacket and trowsers plastered with mud, and his hands and face covered with blotches.

12. Here was the fruit of disobedience! And as it was with Jarvis, so will it be with every one who acts disobediently.

13. Whenever you feel a temptation to disobey God; to disobey his holy word; to disobey the admonitions of your own conscience; to disobey your parents, your teachers, or any in authority over you,—be sure that a punishment awaits you, if you do not resist it.

14. As you are not able to resist it in your own strength, ask God's assistance for Christ's sake, and it will not be withheld. Now, remember Jarvis, and the bed of stinging nettles!

15. The Bible tells us very plainly how much God sets his face against disobedience. "The children of Israel walked forty years in the wilderness, till all the people that were men of war, which came out of Egypt, were consumed, because they obeyed not the voice of the Lord."

16. "Let no man deceive you with vain words: for, because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience." Nor is it disobedience to God that is alone hateful in his sight; for disobedience to parents is spoken of as an evil thing, too.

17. "The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young eagles shall eat it."

18. But I cannot bear to think that you are disobedient! I would rather consider you obedient in all things, and encourage you in holding on your way, obeying the will of God, and the word of all in authority over you.

"The Lord rules over sea and land, And blest indeed are they Who all his counsels understand, And his commands obey."

19. I have often been struck with the simplicity with which some children obey their parents. This tractable disposition is very amiable in a child.

20. It was no longer ago than last week, that, in crossing a field, I overtook three children: one, a little girl of about five years old, was on the foot-path, and, just as I came up, her brother called her to him, where he was in the field.

21. "No, William," said the little maid; "my mother told me not to go off the foot-path, and it would be very wicked to disobey my mother."

22. I caught the little creature up in my arms; and having a small neat book in my pocket, suitable for a child, I gave it to her, and told her to remember that the reason why I gave it was, that she had been obedient to her mother.

"Though cares on cares in parent hearts be piled, Great is that blessing—an obedient child!"

23. Without obedience there can be no order. The man must obey his master, the maid her mistress, and the scholar his teacher. If you attend a Sunday-school, whatever class you are in, be obedient to your instructors, or you will make but little progress. By obedience you will learn faster, secure the respect of those about you, and set a proper example to those younger than yourself.

24. If you are in a place of work, be obedient to your employer. Those make the best masters and mistresses who have been the most obedient servants; for the discharge of one duty disposes us to perform another.

25. The best way to qualify yourselves to act well when grown up, is to act well while you are children.



LESSON XXXIX.

Obstinacy.—LESSONS WITHOUT BOOKS.

1. There is a certain fault which almost all children have in a greater or less degree. It is called by different names; sometimes it is termed wilfulness, sometimes pertinacity, and sometimes it receives the still harsher name of obstinacy.

2. Almost all our faults are owing to the perversion or abuse of propensities originally good; and perseverance, when carried too far, or expended upon unworthy objects, becomes a troublesome infirmity.

3. Louisa and Emily had both something of this infirmity, but differing both in degree and in its mode of operation.

4. What are called little things did not trouble Emily at all; and, on the contrary, they troubled Louisa very much.

5. But, when anything did seem peculiarly desirable to Emily,—when she set her heart upon having her own way,—she carried her perseverance to a degree which deserved to be called obstinacy.

6. She could give up, as children term it, with less effort, and more grace, than most others; but if anything determined her not to give up, she was immovable.

7. "You are almost always in the right," my daughter, her father once said to her, "and Heaven preserve you from error; for when you once fall into it, you will be too apt to persevere."

8. It happened, at one time, that she and Louisa were having some nice sun-bonnets made. Emily went for them at the time when they were to be finished, and finding only one completed, immediately appropriated it to herself, because she was really in greater need of it than Louisa, who had one that answered her purpose very well.

9. Louisa resented this, because that, being the eldest, she considered herself as having the first right; but Emily could not be persuaded to give up, although Louisa's equanimity was very much disturbed on that account.

10. If it had been proposed to her beforehand to let Louisa have the bonnet voluntarily, she would not have hesitated, for she was not selfish; but when Louisa claimed it as a right, she resisted.

11. Her mother afterwards told her that she should always avoid irritating the peculiar humors of her companions. "You," said she, "would not have minded waiting for the other bonnet a day or two, but to Louisa it was quite a serious evil."

12. And here let me remark upon the proneness which all children have to magnify the importance of little things. A strife often arises among them, about just nothing at all, from a mere spirit of competition.



13. One says, "This is my seat." Another, who would not else have thought of desiring that particular seat, immediately regards it in the light of a prize, and exclaims, "No, I meant to have that seat; and I had it just before you took it."

14. Half a dozen claimants will appear directly, and perhaps get into a serious quarrel; whereas, had the reply been, in the first instance, "Very well, let it be your seat," there would have been an end to the matter.

15. But to return to Louisa. She magnified a thousand little things, of every day occurrence, in such a manner as proved a very serious inconvenience to herself.

16. She wished to have her potato sliced, but never mashed. She could not bear to see a door open a single moment; and, even if she were at her meals, and the closet door happened to stand ajar, she would jump up and fly to shut it, with the speed of lightning.

17. She could not endure the feeling of gloves; nor could she any better endure to have her hat tied. Her aunt bore with all these follies a while, and then deliberately resolved to counteract them.

18. Louisa at first thought this was very hard and unreasonable. "Why can't I have my potato sliced, Aunt Cleaveland?" said she; "what hurt can it do? And why can't I shut the door when it is open? is there any harm in that?"

19. "Not at all, my dear, in the thing itself," Mrs. Cleaveland replied; "but there is a great deal of evil in having your tranquillity disturbed by things of such small moment.

20. "If you allow yourself to be distressed by trifles now, how will you bear the real trials of life, which you must inevitably sustain, sooner or later?

21. "By and by, you will find out that your suffering from these sources is all imaginary, and then you will thank me for having restrained you.

22. "Now, here is this nice dish of mashed potatoes, which we have every day. If such a little hungry girl as you are, since you have breathed our healthy mountain air, cannot eat it, and with relish too, I am greatly mistaken; and, in process of time, I have no doubt you will cease to observe whether the door is open or shut."

23. On the first day of trial, Louisa just tasted the potato, and left the whole of it upon her plate. Her aunt took no notice of this. The next day, Louisa came in to dinner after a long walk, and was very hungry.

24. There was but one dish of meat upon the table, and it was of a kind which she did not much like; so, forgetting all her repugnance to mashed potato, she ate it very heartily.

25. Mrs. Cleaveland, however, forbore to take any notice of this change; and it was not until after several weeks had elapsed, and Louisa had ceased to think of the distinction between sliced potato and mashed potato, that her aunt reminded her of the importance which she had formerly attached to the former.

26. "Now, my dear Louisa," said Mrs. Cleaveland, "since you find the task is not so very difficult as you apprehended, promise me that you will try to cure yourself of all these little infirmities; for such I must term them.

27. "There is so much real suffering in life, that it is a pity to have any which is merely imaginary; and though, while you are a little girl, living with indulgent friends, your whims might all be gratified, a constant and uniform regard to them will be impossible by and by, when you are old enough to mingle with the world."



LESSON XL.

King Edward and his Bible.—MRS. L.H. SIGOURNEY.

1. I will tell you a little story about a young and good king. He was king of England more than two hundred and eighty years ago. His name was Edward, and, because there had been five kings before him of the name of Edward, he was called Edward the Sixth.

2. He was only nine years old when he began to reign. He was early taught to be good, by pious teachers, and he loved to do what they told him would please God. He had a great reverence for the Bible, which he knew contained the words of his Father in heaven.



3. Once, when he was quite a young child, he was playing with some children about his own age. He wished much to reach something which was above his head. To assist him, they laid a large, thick book in a chair, for him to step on. Just as he was putting his foot upon it, he discovered it to be the Bible.

4. Drawing back, he took it in his arms, kissed it, and returned it to its place. Turning to his little playmates, he said, with a serious face,—"Shall I dare to tread under my feet that which God has commanded me to keep in my heart?"

5. This pious king never forgot his prayers. Though the people with whom he lived were continually anxious to amuse him, and show him some new thing, they never could induce him to omit his daily devotions.

6. One day he heard that one of his teachers was sick. Immediately, he retired to pray for him. Coming from his prayers, he said, with a cheerful countenance, "I think there is hope that he will recover. I have this morning earnestly begged of God to spare him to us."

7. After his teacher became well, he was told of this; and he very much loved the young king for remembering him in his prayers.

8. Edward the Sixth died when he was sixteen years old. He was beloved by all, for his goodness and piety. His mind was calm and serene in his sickness.

9. If you are not tired of my story, I will tell you part of a prayer which he used often to say, when on his dying bed.

10. "My Lord God, if thou wilt deliver me from this miserable life, take me among thy chosen. Yet not my will, but thy will, be done. Lord, I commit my spirit unto thee. Thou knowest how happy it were for me to be with thee. Yet, if thou shouldst send me life and health, grant that I may truly serve thee."

11. Children, you should do like King Edward, reverence your Bible, and love to pray to God.



LESSON XLI.

What does it Mean to be Tempted.—M.H., IN THE ROSE-BUD.

1. "Mother," said little Frank, "I wish you would tell me what it means to be tempted. I heard you say, the other day, that people are tempted to do many wicked things;—pray tell me, mother, if such a little boy as I am is ever tempted?"

2. "Yes, my child, every day you live; and when I have told you what temptation is, I think you will confess that you have not only been tempted, but often yielded to temptation.

3. "To be tempted, means to be drawn by the offer of present pleasure to do what is wrong. There are many kinds of temptation, and I think you will understand me better if I give you an instance.

4. "You know, my dear Frank, that both your father and I have forbidden your going to the pond where your cousin Henry was drowned, because we think it very dangerous for you to venture there. But you also know that the other day you went, and suffered severely afterward for your disobedience."

5. "Yes, mother," said Frank; "but then I should not have gone, if William Brown had not showed me his pretty ship, just as I was coming out of school, and asked me to go see him launch it; and oh, mother, if you had only seen it!

6. "It had masts and sails, just like a real ship; and on the deck a little man, which William called the captain. And then, when it was on the water, it sailed along so sweetly!—the pond was as smooth as a looking-glass, so that we could see two little ships all the time.

7. "I didn't think of disobeying you, mother; I only thought of the pretty ship, and that there could be no harm in seeing William sail it."—"The harm, my dear son (as you call it)," said his mother, "was not in sailing the boat,—this is an innocent pleasure in itself; but it was doing it after it had been forbidden by your parents, that made it wrong.

8. "The temptation to disobedience came in the form of a little ship. You were drawn by it to the pond, the forbidden spot. You saw it sail gayly off, and stood on the bank delighted."

9. "But, mother," interrupted Frank, "I shouldn't have got into the water and muddied my clothes, if the little ship hadn't got tangled in the weeds; and the boys all shouted, Clear her! Clear her! and I couldn't help stepping in, I was so near; and my foot slipped, and I fell in."

10. "Yes," said his mother, "and but for assistance of your play-fellows, you might have been drowned. But God, whose eye was upon you all the while, saw fit to spare you; and how thankful you ought to be that he did not take you away in your disobedience!

11. "You now see how you were tempted, first to go with William Brown to the pond, and then to step into the water; which shows how one temptation leads to another. But did not something within you, my son, tell you, while there, that you were doing wrong to disobey your parents?"

12. "No, mother; I do not recollect that it did. I'm sure I did not think a word about it till I was alone in bed, and was asking my heavenly Father to take care of me. Then something seemed to say, 'Frank, you have done wrong to-day.'

13. "And I felt how wicked I had been, and could not ask God to forgive me till I had confessed all to you. I knew you were away when I came home, and I thought you hadn't returned.

14. "I was so unhappy that I called Betsy, and told her how I felt. She told me it was an accident, and no matter at all; that she had taken care of my clothes, and she believed you would never know anything about it.

15. "But all this was no comfort to me; the something within would not be quiet. If it had spoken to me in the same way when I first saw the little ship, I think I should not have gone to the pond."

16. "Frank," said his mother, "this something within, which is conscience, did then speak, but you did not listen to its voice. The voice of temptation was louder, and you obeyed it, just as you followed some noisy boys, the other day, though I was calling to you, 'Frank, come back.'

17. "I spoke louder than usual, and at any other time you would have heard my voice; but you were too much attracted by the boys to listen to me.

18. "Temptation makes us deaf to the voice within; and yielding to temptation, as you see, my son, leads us into sin; and this is why we pray, in the Lord's prayer, 'Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,' which is sin, for there is no greater evil than sin.

19. "It is to keep us from this great evil that God has given us this voice within, to warn us not to follow temptation, though the sin appear but a trifling one, and though it hold out the promise of pleasure, as the little ship did."



LESSON XLII.

The same subject, continued.

1. "I will name some of the temptations to which little boys are a good deal exposed, and yield to without thinking, and sometimes without knowing to what they may lead.

2. "Sometimes the temptation to steal comes in the form of some beautiful fruit; perhaps in his father's garden, which he has been forbidden to touch; or perhaps in an orchard far from the eye of the owner, where he might take it without fear of being seen; and he says to himself, 'No one will ever know it; I will take only a few.'

3. "But does he forget that the eye of God is upon him, and does he not hear the voice of conscience saying, 'Thou shalt not steal!' He would shudder to be called a thief; but taking what does not belong to us, be it ever so small a thing, is stealing.

4. "And when detected, he is tempted to lie, to conceal his fault and avoid punishment; and here again we see how one sin leads to another. The temptations to cruelty are many. Sometimes they appear in the form of a bird's nest, placed by a fond and loving mother on the high bough of a tree, to secure her young brood from danger.

5. "The boy, in his rambles in the woods, sees the nest, climbs the tree, and, though the little birds are too feeble to fly, and the anxious mother flutters round, as if to entreat the cruel boy to spare her little ones, he is unmindful of her tenderness, and, thinking only of his prize, bears it off to his companions, who enjoy it with him.

6. "Here is a sinful feeling indulged, which, if not subdued, may lead to murder. I wish you to remember, my dear boy, that it is by allowing ourselves to commit little sins that we become great sinners.

7. "You would be frightened if you could have placed before you a picture of the course of sin. You would exclaim, What a monster!—he must never come near me,—it is dangerous even to look on him! Let me entreat you, then, my son, to guard against temptation.



8. "If you say to temptation, as you would to a wicked companion, who had often led you into mischief, 'Go away; I do not like your company,' temptation, though for a while it may plead to be indulged, will soon do as the wicked companion would, if often sent away with such a reproof, discontinue to come; or, if found in your company, will not harm you; for conscience, like a good friend, will be ever near; and your blessed Saviour, who has promised to help those who are tempted, will assist you to overcome temptation.

9. "I hope now you understand what it means to be tempted."—"I think I do, mother," said Frank, "and I thank you for telling me so much about temptation. I shall never again repeat the Lord's prayer without thinking what it means, and I hope God will keep me from the great evil of sin." He then kissed his mother, and she promised to tell him, some other time, how we are tempted by sinful thoughts.



LESSON XLIII.

The same, subject, continued.



1. It was not long after Frank had the conversation with his mother upon the temptation to sinful actions, that he claimed her promise to tell him how we may be tempted to sinful thoughts.

2. It was Sunday evening. Frank and his mother were sitting alone together at a window which opened upon a flower-garden, rich in the hues with which God has seen fit to adorn this beautiful part of creation.

3. "You have been at church to-day, my son," said his mother; "and to my eye you did nothing offensive, for you sat still during the sermon, and appeared engaged with your book during the prayers.

4. "I saw only the outward part; but remember there was an eye of infinite purity looking upon your heart, and seeing the thoughts that were passing there. You only can tell if they were fit to meet that eye."

5. Frank looked down; for, like most children, he was not apt to examine either his thoughts or motives, but was well satisfied if he gained the approbation of his parents.

6. His mother, seeing he was struggling to disclose something, said, "You are an honest boy, Frank, and do not, I trust, wish to conceal the truth from your mother. If you have received my approbation for correct conduct, you certainly cannot enjoy it, if you feel that it is not deserved."

7. "That is what troubles me, mother," said Frank; "for, while I was sitting so still, and you thought I was attending to the sermon, I was all the while watching a pretty little dog, that was running from pew to pew, trying to find his master; and when he got on the pulpit step, and rolled off, I came so near laughing that I was obliged to put my handkerchief to my mouth, and make believe to cough.

8. "I kept my eye upon him till church was done, and thought, if I could see him at the door, I would try to make him follow me home, and keep him.

9. "I feel now, mother, that all this was very wrong, and that these naughty thoughts tempted me to break God's holy Sabbath."

10. "I am glad you feel this, my son; for, besides being sinful to desire to have the little dog, which was coveting what belonged to another, the time and place in which you indulged the thought was the breaking of that commandment which says, 'Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'"

11. "But, mother," asked Frank, impatiently, "how shall I keep these thoughts out? They come before I know it. Sometimes a boy has a new suit of clothes on, and I cannot help looking at him; and sometimes the girls will play with their gloves, and tie and untie their bonnets; and sometimes the little children get to sleep, and I can't help watching them, to see if they will not slip off the seat.

12. "I think, mother, if we did not sit in the gallery, I shouldn't see so many things to tempt me to wicked thoughts in church."

13. "If I really believed this myself, Frank, I should think it important to change our seat: but the mischief does not lie here; it is in your heart.

14. "If this were right, and you really loved God and his service, the thought of his presence would keep out these troublesome intruders; not altogether, my son, for the best of people are sometimes subject to wandering thoughts; but it is a temptation which they overcome, by turning their attention immediately to the services, and by taking their eyes from the object that drew away their thoughts from God."



LESSON XLIV.

The same subject, concluded.

1. "If some great king, who loved his people, and was continually giving them some good things, should appoint a day when he would meet his subjects, rich and poor, young and old, and should declare to them how they may best please him; and a person should be appointed to read to them, from a book he had himself written, directions for their conduct; and that, as a reward for obedience, should promise they should be admitted to his palace, where nothing that could trouble them should ever be allowed to enter—"

2. "Why, mother," exclaimed Frank, "I should so admire to see a king, that I should be willing to do everything he required; and should be afraid, all the time, of doing something he did not like, while in his presence. I should keep looking at him all the time, to see if he were pleased;—but go on, mother."

3. "Well, my son, suppose this great person, who is also good, should keep a book in which he noted down all your actions, and even looks; and, on a certain day which he had appointed, and which was known to himself, should call together a great multitude of people, his friends and yours, and should read to them all that he had written there,—do you think you would be careless or indifferent what was written against your name?"

4. "O no, mother! I should be so anxious that I should want to hide myself, for fear something should be read that I should be ashamed of,—something very bad. But, mother, no king ever did this, that you know of. If he did, pray tell me more about him; and if his subjects were not all good and obedient."

5. "I have heard of a king, my son, who has done more than this; but not an earthly king. Earthly kings are limited in their power; for they are but men. But the king of whom I speak is the Lord of the whole earth."

6. "Do you mean God, mother?"—"I do, my son. You have told me how you should behave in the presence of an earthly king on the day he should appoint to meet his people; and would you treat with less reverence and respect him who is the King of kings and Lord of lords?

7. "Can you, on entering his house, say, 'The Lord is in his holy temple,' and feel no desire to meet him there; but allow any trifle that meets your eye to carry your thoughts away? Do you, when his holy book is read, feel no desire to hear the directions he has given to lead you to your heavenly home?

8. "And when the petitions are sent up imploring his blessings, and asking his forgiveness, have you none to offer? Are you so blest as to have nothing to ask, and so good as to need no forgiveness?

9. "O my son, be careful how you neglect these gracious privileges! And when his ministers, whom he has appointed to declare his will,—to instruct you out of his word,—preach to you from the sacred pulpit, will you turn a deaf ear, and lose their instructions, and at the same time displease your heavenly Father?

10. "This great and powerful king is also your father and friend. He loves you more than any earthly friend. He is willing to hear all your petitions, and is even more ready to give than we are to ask. He has appointed one day in seven in which to meet us, and this is the Sabbath, about the keeping of which we are now talking.

11. "And he has also appointed a day in which he will judge the world, from the book which he has kept of our accounts.

12. "On that day there will be assembled a great multitude, which no man can number, out of every kindred and tongue; great and small, good and bad. You and I will be there, my son.

13. "There will be the minister and his people, the Sunday-school teacher and his scholars, all to receive either the sentence, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world,' or, 'Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting punishment.'"

14. Frank was moved by this representation of the consequences of his neglect of the duties he owed his heavenly Father, and said, "O, how sad it would be, how dreadful, if, on that day I should be sent to dwell forever where God is not, and where you and father are not!"

15. "Dreadful, indeed, my son, would be such a separation; and when you think of this, let it make you more earnest to serve and please God; for Jesus Christ, who came upon earth once to die for us all, and will come again to judge the earth, has gone to prepare mansions in heaven for those who love him, that they may dwell with him forever in perfect happiness.

16. "Let us now, my son, pray to our heavenly Father to prepare us for this blessedness, that where he is, there we may be also." Frank and his mother knelt together, and offered up the following prayer:—

PRAYER FOR GOOD THOUGHTS.

17. Almighty and most merciful Father! teach us thy will, that we may know how to please thee. Put good thoughts into our hearts, and right words into our lips, that our services may be such as thou wilt please to accept.

18. Forgive, we pray thee, the sins we have committed this day, in thought, word, or deed, and make us truly sorry on account of them. Help us to love thee more, and serve thee better, for the time to come.



19. Bless all our friends, and make them thy friends. Make us a household serving thee, that after this life is over, we may all meet in heaven.

20. O then, great Shepherd, who neither slumberest nor sleepest, take us under thy protection this night; and when the cheerful light of day again returns, lead us forth in thy fold, and keep us from every temptation that will draw us away from thee.

21. May our peaceful slumbers remind us of the sleep of death; and, on the morning of the resurrection, wilt thou clothe us in the righteousness of Christ, and receive us to dwell with him in life everlasting! Amen.



LESSON XLV.

Mary Dow.—H.F. GOULD.

1. "Come in, little stranger," I said, As she tapped at my half-opened door, While the blanket pinned over her head Just reached to the basket she bore.

2. A look full of innocence fell From her modest and pretty blue eye, As she said, "I have matches to sell, And hope you are willing to buy.

3. "A penny a bunch is the price; I think you'll not find it too much; They're tied up so even and nice, And ready to light with a touch."

4. I asked, "What's your name, little girl?" "'Tis Mary," said she,—"Mary Dow," And carelessly tossed off a curl, That played o'er her delicate brow.

5. "My father was lost in the deep,— The ship never got to the shore; And mother is sad, and will weep, When she hears the wind blow and sea roar.

6. "She sits there at home, without food, Beside our poor sick Willie's bed; She paid all her money for wood, And so I sell matches for bread.

7. "For every time that she tries Some things she'd be paid for to make, And lays down the baby, it cries, And that makes my sick brother wake.

8. "I'd go to the yard and get chips, But, then, it would make me too sad, To see men there building the ships, And think they had made one so bad.

9. "I've one other gown, and, with care, We think it may decently pass, With my bonnet that's put by to wear To meeting and Sunday-school class.

10. "I love to go there, where I'm taught, Of One who's so wise and so good, He knows every action and thought, And gives e'en the raven his food.

11. "For He, I am sure, who can take Such fatherly care of a bird, Will never forget or forsake The children who trust to his word.

12. "And now, if I only can sell The matches I brought out to-day, I think I shall do very well, And mother'll rejoice at the pay."

13. "Fly home, little bird," then I thought, "Fly home, full of joy, to your nest!" For I took all the matches she brought, And Mary may tell you the rest.



LESSON XLVI.

It Snows.—H.F. GOULD.

1. It snows! it snows! from out the sky, The feathered flakes, how fast they fly! Like little birds, that don't know why They're on the chase, from place to place, While neither can the other trace. It snows! it snows! a merry play Is o'er us, on this heavy day!

2. As dancers in an airy hall, That hasn't room to hold them all, While some keep up and others fall, The atoms shift; then, thick and swift, They drive along to form the drift, That, weaving up, so dazzling white, Is rising like a wall of light.

3. But now the wind comes whistling loud, To snatch and waft it, as a cloud, Or giant phantom in a shroud; It spreads, it curls, it mounts and whirls, At length a mighty wing unfurls, And then, away! but where, none knows, Or ever will.—It snows! it snows!

4. To-morrow will the storm be done; Then out will come the golden sun, And we shall see, upon the run Before his beams, in sparkling streams, What now a curtain o'er him seems. And thus with life it ever goes, 'Tis shade and shine!—It snows! it snows!



LESSON XLVII.

The Dissatisfied Angler Boy.—H.F. GOULD.



1. I'm sorry they let me go down to the brook, I'm sorry they gave me the line and the hook, And I wish I had stayed at home with my book. I'm sure 'twas no pleasure to see That poor, little, harmless, suffering thing, Silently writhe at the end of the string; Or to hold the pole, while I felt him swing In torture, and all for me!

2. 'Twas a beautiful speckled and glossy trout, And when from the water I drew him out On the grassy bank, as he floundered about, It made me shivering cold, To think I had caused so much needless pain; And I tried to relieve him, but all in vain; O! never, as long as I live, again May I such a sight behold!

3. O, what would I give once more to see The brisk little swimmer alive and free, And darting about, as he used to be, Unhurt, in his native brook! 'Tis strange how people can love to play, By taking innocent lives away; I wish I had stayed at home to-day, With sister, and read my book.



LESSON XLVIII.

The Violet: a Fable.—CHILDREN'S MAGAZINE.

1. Down in a humble dell A modest violet chanced to dwell Remote from gayer flowers; Its days were passed in simple ease, It sipped the dew and kissed the breeze, Nor thought of happier hours.

2. Long lived it in this quiet way, Till, on a hot and sultry day About the midst of June, It chanced to spy a lady fair, All dressed in satins rich and rare, Come walking by, at noon.

3. And thus the silly flower began:— "I much should like to live with man, And other flowers to see;— Why is it (for I cannot tell) That I forever here should dwell, Where there is none but me?"

4. While thus it spoke, the lady stopped To pick up something she had dropped, And there the flower she spied; And soon she plucked it from its bed, Just shook the dew-drop from its head, And placed it at her side.

5. Soon at the lady's splendid home The violet found that she was come, For all was bright and gay: And then upon the mantel-shelf, With many a flower beside herself, Was placed, without delay.

6. And oh, how glad and proud was she In such a splendid place to be!— But short was her delight; For rose and lily turned away, And would not deign a word to say To such a country wight.

7. She passed the day in much disgrace, And wished that she might change her place, And be at home again: She sighed for her own mossy bed, Where she might rest her aching head; But now to wish were vain.

8. Next morn, the housemaid, passing by, Just chanced the little flower to spy, And then, without delay, She rudely seized its tender stalk, And threw it in the gravel walk, And left it to decay.

9. And thus it mourned,—"O silly flower, To wish to leave its native bower! Was it for this I sighed? O, had I more contented been, And lived unnoticed and unseen, I might not thus have died!"

10. Nor let this lesson be forgot: Remain contented with the lot That Providence decrees. Contentment is a richer gem Than sparkles in a diadem, And gives us greater ease.



LESSON XLIX.

Captain John Smith.—JUVENILE MISCELLANY.

1. The adventures of this singular man are so various, and so very extraordinary, that the detail of them seems more like romance than true history. He was born in Lincolnshire, England, and was left an orphan at an early age.

2. His love of adventure displayed itself while he was yet a school-boy. He sold his satchel, books and clothes, and went over to France, without the knowledge of his guardians.

3. Afterward, he served as a soldier in the Netherlands for several years. At the end of his campaign, he returned to England, where he recovered a small portion of the estate left him by his deceased father.

4. This money enabled him to resume his travels under more favorable auspices, at the age of seventeen. He again went to France, and embarked at Marseilles (pronounced Mar-sales'), with some pious pilgrims, bound to Italy.

5. During this voyage a violent tempest threatened destruction to the vessel; and poor Smith being the suspected cause of the impending danger was thrown, without mercy, into the sea.



6. He saved himself by his great expertness in swimming; and soon after went on board another vessel, bound to Alexandria, where he entered into the service of the Emperor of Austria, against the Turks.

7. His bravery, and great ingenuity in all the stratagems of war, soon made him famous, and obtained for him the command of two hundred and fifty horsemen.

8. At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans sent a challenge, purporting that Lord Turbisha, to amuse the ladies, would fight with any captain among the Austrian troops. Smith accepted the challenge.

9. Flags of truce were exchanged between the two armies, and crowds of fair dames and fearless men assembled to witness the combat. Lord Turbisha entered the field well mounted and armed.

10. On his shoulders were fixed two large wings made of eagles' feathers, set in silver, and richly ornamented with gold and precious stones. A janizary, or Turkish soldier, bore his lance before him, and another followed, leading a horse superbly caparisoned.

11. Smith came upon the ground with less parade. A flourish of trumpets preceded him, and his lance was supported by a single page.

12. The Turk fell at the first charge, and Smith returned to his army in triumph. This so enraged one of the friends of the slain that he sent a challenge to Smith, offering him his head, his horse and his armor, if he dared come and take them.

13. The challenge was accepted, and the combatants came upon the ground with nearly the same ceremony and splendor. Their lances broke at the first charge, without doing injury to either; but, at the second onset, the Turk was wounded, thrown from his horse, and killed.



LESSON L.

The same subject, continued.

1. The Christian army were at this time anxious to finish erecting some fortifications, and were very willing to amuse their enemies in this way. They therefore persuaded Captain Smith to send a challenge in his turn, offering his head, in payment for the two he had won, to any one who had skill and strength enough to take it.

2. The offer was accepted; and a third Turk tried his fortune with the bold adventurer. This time Captain Smith was nearly unhorsed; but, by his dexterity and judgment, he recovered himself, and soon returned to the camp victorious.

3. These warlike deeds met with much applause; and the prince gave him a coat of arms, signed with the royal seal, representing three Turk's heads on a white field.

4. Not long after this, Captain Smith was left wounded on the field of battle,—was taken prisoner by the Turks,—and sent as a slave to a noble lady in the interior of the country.

5. He could speak Italian well, and his fair mistress was very fond of that language. She listened to accounts of his bravery, his adventures, and his misfortunes, with deepening interest; and finally sent him to her brother, a powerful bashaw, with a request that he should be treated with much kindness.

6. The proud officer was angry that his sister should trouble herself about a vile European slave; and, instead of attending to her request, he caused him to be loaded with irons, and abused in the most shameful manner.

7. During the long and tedious period of his slavery, he suffered as much as it is possible for man to endure; but at length he killed his tyrannical master, and, with great peril, escaped through the deserts into Russia.

8. His romantic genius would not long allow him to remain easy. He could not be happy unless he was engaged in daring and adventurous actions. He no sooner heard of an expedition to Virginia, under the command of Christopher Newport, than he resolved to join it.

9. He arrived in this country with the first emigrants, who settled in Jamestown, April 26, 1607. It is said this infant settlement must have perished, had it not been for the courage and ingenuity of Captain Smith.



10. Once they were all nearly dying with hunger, and the savages utterly refused to sell them any food. In this extremity, Smith stole the Indian idol, Okee, which was made of skins stuffed with moss, and would not return it until the Indians sold them as much corn as they wanted.



LESSON LI.

The same subject, continued.

1. The colony were once in imminent danger of losing their brave and intelligent friend. While exploring the source of the Chickahominy river, he imprudently left his companions, and, while alone, was seen and pursued by a party of savages. He retreated fighting, killed three Indians with his own hand, and probably would have regained his boat in safety, had he not accidentally plunged into a miry hole, from which he could not extricate himself.

2. By this accident, he was taken prisoner; and the Indians would have tortured him, and put him to death, according to their cruel customs, had not his ever-ready wit come to his aid.

3. He showed them a small ivory compass, which he had with him, and, by signs, explained many wonderful things to them, till his enemies were inspired with a most profound respect, and resolved not to kill the extraordinary man without consulting their chief.

4. He was, accordingly, brought into the presence of the king, Powhatan, who received him in a robe of raccoon skins, and seated on a kind of throne, with two beautiful young daughters at his side. After a long consultation, he was condemned to die.

5. Two large stones were brought, his head laid upon one of them, and the war-clubs raised to strike the deadly blow. At this moment, Pocahontas, the king's favorite daughter, sprang forward, threw herself between him and the executioners, and by her entreaties saved his life.

6. Powhatan promised him that he should return to Jamestown, if the English would give him a certain quantity of ammunition and trinkets. Smith agreed to obtain them, provided a messenger would carry a leaf to his companions. On this leaf he briefly stated what must be sent.

7. Powhatan had never heard of writing;—he laughed at the idea that a leaf could speak, and regarded the whole as an imposition on the part of the prisoner.

8. When, however, the messenger returned with the promised ransom, he regarded Smith as nothing less than a wizard, and gladly allowed him to depart. It seemed to be the fate of this singular man to excite a powerful interest wherever he went.

9. Pocahontas had such a deep attachment for him, that, in 1609, when only fourteen years old, she stole away from her tribe, and, during a most dreary night, walked to Jamestown, to tell him that her father had formed the design of cutting off the whole English settlement.

10. Thus she a second time saved his life, at the hazard of her own. This charming Indian girl did not meet with all the gratitude she deserved.

11. Before 1612, Captain Smith received a wound, which made it necessary for him to go to England, for surgical aid; and after his departure a copper kettle was offered to any Indian who would bring Pocahontas to the English settlement.

12. She was, accordingly, stolen from her father, and carried prisoner to Jamestown. Powhatan offered five hundred bushels of corn as a ransom for his darling child.

13. Before the negotiation was finished, an Englishman of good character, by the name of Thomas Rolfe, became attached to Pocahontas, and they were soon after married, with the king's consent.

14. This event secured peace to the English for many years. The Indian bride became a Christian, and was baptized.



LESSON LII.

The same subject, concluded.

1. In 1616, Pocahontas went to England with her husband,—was introduced at court, and received great attention.

2. King James is said to have been very indignant that any of his subjects should have dared to marry a princess; but Captain Smith has been accused, perhaps falsely, of being sufficiently cold and selfish to blush for his acquaintance with the generous North American savage.

3. Pocahontas never returned to her native country. She died at Gravesend, in 1617, just as she was about to embark for America.

4. She left one son, Thomas Rolfe; and from his daughter are descended several people of high rank in Virginia, among whom was the celebrated John Randolph of Roanoke.

5. Smith had many adventures, after his wound obliged him to leave Jamestown. He visited this country again; made a voyage to the Summer Isles; fought with pirates; joined the French against the Spaniards; and was adrift, in a little boat, alone, on the stormy sea, during a night so tempestuous that thirteen French ships were wrecked, near the Isle of Re; yet he was saved.

6. He died in London, in 1631, in the fifty-second year of his age, after having published his singular adventures in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.



LESSON LIII.

John Ledyard.—JUVENILE MISCELLANY.

1. Few men have done so much, in a short life, as John Ledyard. When he was a mere boy, he built a canoe with his own hands, and descended Connecticut river alone and unassisted.

2. He enlisted as a soldier, at Gibraltar; and afterwards, in the humble character of corporal of the marines, he sailed round the world with the celebrated Captain Cook.

3. After his return to England, he formed the bold design of traversing the northern parts of Europe and Asia, crossing Behring's Straits, and examining the whole of North America, from east to west.

4. Sir Joseph Banks, famous for his generosity to men of enterprise, furnished him with money for the undertaking. He expended nearly all of it in purchasing sea stores; and these, most unluckily, were all seized by a custom-house officer, on account of some articles which the English law forbade to be exported.

5. Poor Ledyard was now left in utter poverty; but he was a resolute man, and he would not be discouraged. With only ten guineas in his purse, he attempted to walk over the greater part of three continents.

6. He walked through Denmark and Sweden, and attempted to cross the great Gulf of Bothnia, on his way to Siberia; but when he reached the middle of that inland sea, he found the water was not frozen, and he was obliged to foot it back to Stockholm.

7. He then traveled round the head of the gulf, and descended to St. Petersburg. Here he was soon discovered to be a man of talents and activity; and though he was without money, and absolutely destitute of stockings and shoes, he was treated with great attention.

8. The Portuguese ambassador invited him to dine, and was so much pleased with him, that he used his influence to obtain for him a free passage in the government wagons, then going to Irkutsk, in Siberia, at the command of the Empress Katharine.

9. He went from this place to Yakutz, and there awaited the opening of the spring, full of the animating hope of soon completing his wearisome journey. But misfortune seemed to follow him wherever he went.