round his body, and, at the same time, attend him in his revolution round the sun, the same as our moon attends the earth; two of these moons are about the size of ours, one is four times as large, and the remaining one seven times.

Such is the great distance of Jupiter from the earth, that it would take four hundred and sixty years to reach him, travelling at the rate of a hundred miles an hour.

LESSON XLL

THE MILLER AND HIS SON.-A SUMMER EVENING.

As a miller and son to the market one day

Were driving their donkey along,

They agreed to walk thither on foot all the way,
That the ass might arrive fresh and strong.

They had scarcely proceeded a mile on their way,
When some trav'llers happen'd to pass;
"Mighty careful you seem, neighbour Goodall," say they,
"Of your pamper'd and indolent ass.

Methinks one of you might take a lift, at the least,

Nor a donkey sink under its load;

'Tis a comical plan that a lazy young beast
Is to choose its own pace on the road.”
With this rational counsel and friendly advice
The good humour'd miller complied;
So, bidding the animal stop, in a trice
He mounted upon it to ride.

About half a mile farther, perchance, they had gone,
When some others began to deride;
And in a more saucy, impertinent tone

His hard-hearted folly to chide,

"There's a selfish, unnatural wretch, if you please,
Who lets his son wade in the mire;
While he, like an alderman, sits at his ease,
Does he merit the title of Sire ?"

The kind-hearted miller dismounted again,
And lifted his son up instead;

But each fresh endeavour to please seemed in vain,
The same spiteful censures were made.

"You idle young fellow, who taught you to ride,
And canter along at this rate?

Is your poor aged father to limp by your side,
While you are to journey in state?

"Well, my son," said the father, "I'll get up behind,^. And Bodkin to market we'll ride;

May be to this plan no objection they'll find;

At all events, it can be tried."

But now one more vehement far than the rest,
The donkey espied with his load;

And with loud exclamations his wonder exprest,
As they pass'd him along on the road.

"Upon my word now, if that is not a shame
To load a dumb animal so!

I declare, if it isn't already too lame,

Another mile farther to go.

Then said one to the other, "if that be the case,
We've done the poor donkey a wrong;
Let us make amends to the creature, apace,
And bear it ourselves now along."

"Here's a novelty for you! a strange piece of fun!"
Said they who the sight chanced to see;
"Two donkeys, behold you, are carrying one-
The least donkey like, sure, of the three."

The complying old man would have yielded again,
But now by experience taught,

He discover'd that human opinion is vain-
Its favour too dear to be bought.

Let a conscience enlighten'd teach what should be done, And caution us what not to do;

Instruct us what habits and customs to shun,

What course we may safely pursue.

Ellen Roberts.

How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he run,
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain!

And now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.

Just such is the Christian: his course he begins
Like the sun in a mist, while he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears; then breaks out and shines,
And travels his heavenly way;

But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace,
And gives a sure hope at the end of his days,

Of rising in brighter array.

Watts.

LESSON XLII.

SLAVERY AND LIBERTY.-CORPORAL TRIM.-DUELS.

Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, SLAVERY! still thou art a bitter draught; and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account.

It is thou LIBERTY! thrice sweet and gracious goddess, whom all in public worship, whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so, till nature herself shall change-no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chymic power turn thy sceptre into iron.

With thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Grant me but health, thou great Bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion; and shower down thy mitres, if it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them.

Pursuing these ideas, I sat down close by my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself the miseries of confinement; I was in a right frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination.

I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow creatures, born to no inheritance but slavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture.

I beheld his body half wasted away with long expect

ation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was, which arises from hope deferred.

Upon looking nearer, I saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not once fanned his blood; he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time, nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice.

His children-but here my heart began to bleedand I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait; he was sitting upon the ground on a littlé straw, in the farthest part of his dungeon, which was sometimes his chair, and sometimes his bed.

A little calendar of small sticks was laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there; he had one of those little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.

As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle; he gave a deep sigh-I saw the iron enter into his soul-I burst into tears-I could not sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.-Sterne.

66

"Pray thee, Trim," quoth my father, "what dost thou mean by 'honouring thy father and thy mother?'" Allowing them, an' please your honour, three halfpence a day out of my pay, when they grew old." "An' didst thou do that Trim?" said Yorick. "He did indeed," replied my uncle Toby. "Then Trim," said Yorick, springing out of his chair, and taking the corporal by the hand, "thou art the best commentator upon that part of the Decalogue; and I honour thee more