the ape just referred to, when I have seen a child pouting and crying as it proceeded to do what it was told, or knocking down anything that was near. Oh, what a sad sight is a cross-grained, ill-tempered, passionate child!

An elephant or an ape is, after all, an irrational creature; we may make, therefore, some excuse for a fit of disobedience: but none can be made for a child in a pet. Have you ever been so? Ask God to help you so to watch your spirit, that you may never be illtempered again.

GREAT DOINGS.

"Make way, sir, make way, I would have you to see
That you are not thus to trifle with me;

I'll show you, whenever I speak, I'll be heard,
Nor from doing whatever I please be deterred."

Do you hear the young boaster? He'd soon find a cure,
If some real evil he had to endure;

Were the danger but slight, such a hero would fly;
The brave never carry their foreheads so high.

He is just like a goat, of whom I've heard say,
He was a great tyrant when left to his way;
But lay hold of his beard, and the insolent knave,
All humbled and quaking, your pity would crave.

"Он, dear Uncle William, how could you think of such a thing! How can this boy, who supposes he is so great, be like the goat that was so soon humbled? I wonder what he will say, if he hears your comparison."

"He will say I am right, my child, if he

learns to think justly. Now listen to the tale. There was a goat, unusually large in size, and very strong. He ought to have kept in the stable-yard, his proper place, but he mounted the walls and roofs, entered the garden, and would go where he liked. He was, too, as mischievous as he was saucy. He cropped what he should have left alone, upset pots, and glasses, and milk-pails; overturned bee-hives, and knocked down poles or ladders, and broke windows. He chased the hens, fought the dogs, and knocked down children. He might be seen stalking up and down, with all the airs of importance he could put on. But this was mere bravado. Only let some one go up to him, and take him by the beard, and he would tremble, and bleat, and lick the sides of his mouth, and be one of the veriest slaves, as he had before been one of the greatest of tyrants. Just so it is in other circumstances: those who talk most, generally do least; the braggart is always the first to fly; and hence I wish you to be as much unlike such people as possible.

I will tell you a story of such a person. He was accustomed to boast very largely of

his strength and freedom from fear, and to threaten that he would do as he pleased to all who came in his way. It happened, however, one night, that he had to pass a solitary and miry lane, in which, unless the steps were carefully taken along the narrow causeway of stone, there was danger of going up to the knees in mud or water. And as he went along, like the boy who, passing through the churchyard in the evening, whistled aloud to keep his courage up, so did he indulge in his usual boasting, doubtless for the same purpose.

He was, however, about half-a-mile distant from the village, when he heard an awful sound between a low roar and a groan, and though full six feet high, and strong also, the brace fellow took to his heels, and scampered away with all his might. As speedily as he could he sought refuge in a public-house by the road-side, and in a greatfright and perspiration he told all present of the dreadful noises he had heard. A lady and her maid were passing the lane at the same time; they saw the flight of this hero, but when they came up to the spot where he was so suddenly thrown into a panic, all that they could

hear was some person in the hedge laughing most outrageously. And who was this? It was an old man with whom they had long been acquainted, who told them that knowing what cowards such braggarts were, and hearing this man about to pass, he got behind a bush, on purpose to put his mettle to the test, that he had made all the noise which had produced the alarm, and that never did he see any one so soon frightened or so fleet of foot.

Well might he laugh at so contemptible a person. True courage will not shrink from danger when it is necessary or desirable to encounter it. Of this the following fact is a proof. A few years ago, a flood in the Alps caused great distress to many, and the keeper of a bridge and his family were exposed to imminent danger from the rising of the waters. A count passing by, offered a purse of gold to any one who would rescue them. A peasant, who had been looking on for a moment, immediately got into a boat, skilfully conducted it to the bridge, and thus saved the whole family amidst the shouts of the spectators. The count presented to their deliverer the purse of gold, but he at once