with so much care, that now she seemed nearly as much forgotten as if she were in her grave. In the course of some years, however, the change in her character began to be perceived, and at last she became as much liked as she had formerly been detested.

15. She is now an old married lady, and constantly tells her own story to her children, to preserve them from the difficulty that so much injured her. She has allowed me to write it in this book, for the sake of my little friends, if there be any like her who may read it. For my part, I do not know whether there are any such. But if there should be, I hope, that, after having read this story, they will instantly set about a reform.

If

16. But although I hope there are none so bad as Fanny was, there may be some of my little readers that are fond both of hearing and of talking a little scandal. there be any such, let me say to them, Beware! beware! it is easy to become worse; it is difficult to become better. Fanny did not become bad all at once. She at first was only a little fond of scandal, and the taste for it became stronger and stronger every day. So it will be with you, if you do not at once determine to break off, and become, like Mary, fond only of hearing and talking good of your friends and neighbors.

Repeat the substance of this lesson. What was Fan

ny's great fault? Is it proper or not to watch for faults in our acquaintances? Is it right or wrong to overlook their good traits? Is it a deep sin, or a mere trifle, to exaggerate the faults we see, or to add new circumstances to them to make them appear worse? Is it right or wrong to repeat all the evil we know of others, even if it be true? Should we like this to be done to us, or not? Is it an evil habit, or a good habit, frequently to be thinking or speaking ill of people? Is such a habit apt to lead people to say what they are not sure is true, by attributing false motives or feelings to others? Does it ever carry people further, and lead them to say what is not true? Is it important then, or not, to cure ourselves of such a habit? Is it ever right to speak of the faults of others, unless we mean to do some good by it? If people refused to listen to scandal, would there be as much evil speaking in the world? Is not "the receiver as bad as the thief," then? What do you think of the character of Mary? Which do you think would be the happier of the two, Fanny or Mary? Which would you prefer as a friend? Which would appear best in the sight of God? Does he take notice of such things as evil-speaking? What does the Bible say of it? 'Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law: but, if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but a judge. There is one lawgiver, who is able to save, and to destroy who art thou that judgest another?" Jas. iv. 11, 12. And Christ says, "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite! first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye." Matt. vii. 1-5. What does the Bible say of the spirit of charity? "Though I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And

though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly; seeketh not her own; is not easily provoked; thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity. 1 Cor. xiii. 1-7-12. [Let the teacher see that the above verses from the Bible are well understood.]

LESSON XII.

Anger.

1. FRANCIS and William Hale were sitting in the parlor one afternoon, when they heard some music in the street. Looking out of

the window, they saw a man leading a tame bear by a chain, and playing on some musical instrument which he carried on his back.

2. "I should be afraid," said William, "to stand too near that animal. Do but listen, Francis. Did you ever hear such growling?"

3. "Oh! he could not hurt you," said Francis." You see he has a muzzle to prevent his biting

4. While they were thus talking, the man

stopped opposite the window. The boys now observed that there were two monkeys with the bear. One of them was light and nimble; the other was larger, and not so active. Both of them were jumping backwards and forwards on the bear's back, who quietly suffered them to play their tricks as they pleased.

5. The children that had collected to see the monkeys threw pieces of apple at them, which they caught in their paws, and instantly swallowed. But the monkeys seemed most delighted with the nuts which the people threw to them. Seated like little children, and holding the nuts between their fore paws, they broke the shells, and picked out the kernels, as if it were delightful employment.

6. It happened that a very large nut was thrown among the rest. The big monkey raised himself on his long hind legs to catch it. But the little one darted forward and caught it, before the big fellow could reach it.

7. The large monkey was enraged by the loss of the nut, and furiously gnashed his teeth. His forehead grew wrinkled, and his eyes flashed fire. He thrust his claws out, fell upon the little one, and seemed as if he were about to tear it in pieces. The man found it difficult to save him.

8. "Do you see," said Francis, "how frightful that monkey has become since he fell into a rage, and how he shows his

teeth? Oh, dear! I should not like to be within his reach. I should be scared to death."

9. "Indeed!" said William. "Well, then, would you believe it? yesterday, when you were in a passion, you looked just as he does now. Look at him. You had all his wrinkles. You even grinned as he does. Your eyes showed what a passion you were in. And, like the monkey, you seemed ready to devour poor little Harry, though he really had done you no great harm. I only wished to have had a looking-glass. For, if you could have seen your own face then, I am sure you would have been ashamed of yourself."

.

10. "What!" said Francis; "is it possible that I looked like such a hateful-looking beast? I must have been very frightfullooking if I did. I must try for the future never to be in a passion. When I find I am growing angry, I will think of the monkey, recollect how he looked; and that will make me shudder at the thought of being like him. And do you, my dear brother, remind me of this resolution, if I should forget it.

11. William assured him that he would, and was faithful to his promise. Francis by degrees got entirely rid of the bad habit of flying into a passion. And he often thanked William, and assured him, that he was much more happy than when he used to give way to it.