A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and ev'ry truant knew. -
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace,
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd.
Yet he was kind; or, if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was his fault.
The village all declar'd how much he knew;
'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage;
And e'en the story ran that he could gauge.
In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill,
For e'en tho' vanquish'd, he could argue still;
While words of learned length, and thund'ring sound,
Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around;

And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew.
But past is all his fame; the very spot

Where many a time he triumph'd is forgot.

Goldsmith.

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man ; Now tell me the reason, I pray?"

"In the days of my youth," Father William replied,
"I remember'd that youth would fly fast,

I abus'd not my health and my vigour at first,
That I never might need them at last."

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And pleasures with youth pass away,

'

And yet you lament not the days that are gone,
Now tell me the reason, I pray?"

"In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth would not last;

I thought of the future, whatever I did,

That I never might grieve for the past."

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And life must be hastening away;

You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death;
Now tell me the reason I

pray?"

"I'm cheerful, young man," Father William replied, "Let the cause thy attention engage;

In the days of my youth, I remember'd my God!
And He hath not forgotten my age!"

Southey.

LESSON LVI.

JESUS FOUND AMONG THE DOCTORS IN THE TEMPLE.

Some centuries ago, a large, a very large company were travelling northward, in early summer, through a lovely country, whose hills and valleys were clothed with the fig-tree, the olive, and the vine.

They journeyed slowly and without anxiety or care, for their route lay through a quiet land, the abode of peace and plenty; friends and acquaintances were mingled together in groups, as accident, or inclination might dictate, until the sun went down, and the approach of evening warned them to make preparations for rest.

While the various families were drawing off together for this purpose, the attention and sympathy of the

multitude were excited by the anxious looks and eager enquiries of a female, who was passing from group to group, with sorrow and agitation painted on her coun

It was a mother, who could not find her son; it was her only son, and one to whom, from peculiar circumstances, she was very strongly attached.

He had never disobeyed her he had never given her unnecessary trouble, and the uncommon maturity of his mental and moral powers had led her to trust him much more to himself, than in any other case would be justifiable.

He was twelve years old, and she supposed that he had been safe in company; but now night had come, and she could not find him; she went anxiously and sorrowfully from family to family, and from friend to friend, enquiring, with deep solicitude, "Have you seen my son?"

He was not to be found; no one had seen him, and the anxious parents left their company, and, enquiring carefully by the way, went slowly back to the city from which they had come.

The city was in the midst of a country of mountains and valleys; dark groves upon the summits crowned the richly cultivated fields, which adorned their sides; the road wound along glens and vales, sharing the passage with the streams, which flowed towards a neighbouring sea.

The city itself spread its edifices over the broad surface of a hill, one extremity of which was crowned with the spacious walls and colonnades of a temple, rising one above another; the whole pile beaming in the setting sun, as these anxious parents approached it, in all the dazzling whiteness of marble, and splendour of gold.

The parents, however, could not think much about the scene before them;-they had lost their son; with what anxious and fruitless search they spent the evening and the following morning, we do not know; they at last, however, ascended to the temple itself.

They passed from court to court, now going up the broad flight of steps, which led from one to the other; now walking under a lofty colonnade, and now traversing a paved and ornamented area.

At last, in a public part of the edifice, they found a group collected round a boy, and apparently listening to what he was saying; the feeling, with which they witnessed this scene, was that of mingled interest, curiosity, and surprise.

It was their son; his uncommon mental and moral maturity had shown itself to the learned doctors around him, and they were deeply interested in his questions and replies; his mother did not reproach him; she could not reproach one who had been such a son; but she asked him why he had staid behind; "behold," she added, "thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing."

His reply was deep and mysterious; "How is it that ye sought me? Knew ye not, that I must be about my father's business?" They understood not the saying, which he spake, but his mother "laid up ail these words in her heart." And the child, Jesus, went down to Nazareth with them and was subject unto them.-Abbott.

LESSON LVII.

EDWARD IV.-EDWARD V.-RICHARD III.

HENRY VII.

Henry VI. was succeeded by EDWARD IV., a

descendant of Edward III., and the real heir to the crown, in the year 1461. Edward did not enjoy his newly acquired honours in peace, for Margaret, the wife of Henry, was still able to bring an army into the field, when many hotly contested battles were fought, but at last he remained in quiet possession of his throne.

Edward attempted to regain the dominions his predecessors had lost in France, but giving way to pleasure, instead of prosecuting the war, he returned to London, without accomplishing his object.

At home he became very unpopular; in many instances he acted with great cruelty, and gave himself up almost entirely to pleasures, and these often of an immoral description; for a trifling offence, he condemned his brother, the Duke of Clarence, to die, when, being allowed to choose the manner of his death, he was, at his own request, drowned in a butt of malmsey wine.

Edward reigned twenty-two years; during his reign, Printing was introduced by Caxton, a mercer, in London.-Yew trees were ordered to be cultivated in church yards, for making bows.-Thomas Parr, a native of Shropshire, died at the great age of one hundred and fifty years, having lived in the reigns of ten sovereigns.

Edward IV. was succeeded by his eldest son, EDWARD V., in the year 1483, when only twelve years of age, his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester,* being appointed protector during his minority; but he abused this sacred trust, in the most shameful and cruel manner, and contrived, himself, to ascend the throne.

The young king, and his brother, were smothered, by command of their inhuman uncle. In making some alterations in the Tower, in the reign of Charles II., their bodies were discovered in a wooden chest, and, by

* Glos'-ter.