8. I saw, too, a father and mother who leaned
On the arms of a dear gifted son;

And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,
As they saw the proud place he had won;

And the fast coming evening of life promised fair,
And its pathway grew smooth to their feet,
And the starlight of love glimmered bright at the end,
And the whispers of fancy were sweet.

And I saw them again, bending low o'er the grave,
Where their hearts' dearest hope had been laid;
And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,
And the joy from their bosoms had fled.

But the Healer was there, and His arms were around,
And He led them with tenderest care;

And He showed them a star in the bright upper world, 'Twas their star shining brilliantly there!

They had each heard a voice,-'twas the voice of their God: "I love thee-I love thee-pass under the rod!"

QUESTIONS.-1. What custom is alludel to, in the passage "I will cause you to pass under the rod ?" See note. 2. Where is that passage found in the Scriptures? Ans. Ezekiel, 20th chap. 37th verse. 3. What instances are mentioned of individuals "passing under the rod?"

LESSON CXV.

PET U LANT, cross; fretful.

CA LAM' I TY, misfortune.

AP PEL LA TION, name; title.
VE HE MENT, violent; furious.

SA TIR' IC AL, keenly severe; cutting. Vo CIF ER A'TION$, loud outcries.

NUISANCE, annoyance.

JUSTIFY, give a right to.
STU PID I TY, extreme dullness.
CULPA BLE, blamable; censurable.
IR RI TA BIL' I TY, excitableness.

MEN' A CE$, threats.
CEN'SUR ED, blamed.
VIN DI CA'TION, justification.
LON GEV'I TY, length of life.
CON TEMPT I BLE, despicable.

THE PETULANT MAN.

MR. GRIM-MICHAEL-COUSIN MARY.

OSBORNE.

Cousin Mary More breezes? What terrible thing has happened now, Cousin Grim? What's the matter?

Grim. Matter enough, I should think! I sent this stupid fellow to bring me a pair of boots from the closet; and he has brought me two rights, instead of a right and left.

Cousin. What a serious calamity! But, perhaps, he thought it was but right to leave the left.

Grim. None of your jokes, if you please. This is nothing to laugh at.

Cousin. So it would seem, from the expression on your face, rather something to storm at, roar at, and fall into a frenzy about.

Michael. That's right, Miss; give him a piece of your mind! He's the crossest little man I have met with in the new country. You might scrape old Ireland with a finetooth comb, and not find such another.

Grim. How dare you talk to me in that style? I'll discharge you this very day!

Michael. I'm thinking of discharging you, if you don't take better care of that sweet temper of yours.

Grim. Leave the room, sir!

Michael. That I will, in search of better company, saving [Exit.

the lady's presence.

Grim. There, cousin! there is a specimen of my provocations! Can you wonder at my losing my temper?

Cousin. Cousin Grim, that would be the most fortunate thing that could befall you.

Grim. What do you mean?

Cousin. I mean, if you could only lose that temper of yours, it would be a blessed thing for you; though I should pity the poor fellow who found it.

Grim. You are growing satirical in your old age, Cousin Mary.

Cousin. Cousin Grim, hear the plain truth: your ill temper makes you a nuisance to yourself and every body about you.

Grim. Really, Miss Mary Somerville, you are getting to be complimentary!

Cousin. No; I am getting to be candid. I have passed a week in your house, on your invitation. I leave you this afternoon; but, before I go, I mean to speak my mind.

Grim. It seems to me that you have spoken it rather freely already.

Cousin. What was there, in the circumstance of poor Michael's bringing you the wrong boots, to justify your flying into a rage, and bellowing as if your life had been threatened?

Grim. That fellow is perpetually making just such provoking blunders !

Cousin. And do you never make provoking blunders'? Didn't you send me five pounds of Hyson tea, when I wrote for Souchong'? Didn't you send a carriage for me to the cars, half an hour too late, so that I had to hire one myself, after great trouble'? And did I roar at you, when we met, because had done these things'?

you

Grim. On the contrary, this is the first time you have alluded to them. I am sorry they should have happened. But surely you should make a distinction between any such little oversight of mine, and the stupidity of a servant, hired to attend to your orders.

Cousin. I do not admit that there should be a distinction. You are both human; only, as you have had the better education, and the greater advantages, stupidity or neglect on your part, is inuch the more culpable.

Grim. Thank you! Go on.

Cousin. I mean to; so don't be impatient. If an uncooked potato, or a burnt mutton-chop, happens to fall to your lot at the dinner-table, what a tempest follows! One would think you had been wronged, insulted, trampled on, driven to despair. Your face is like a thunder-cloud, all the rest of the meal. Your poor wife endeavors to hide her Your children feel timid and miserable. Your guest feels as if she would like to see you held under the nose of the pump, and thoroughly ducked.

tears.

Grim. The carriage is waiting for you, Miss Somerville, and the driver has put on your baggage.

Cousin. I have hired that carriage by the hour, and so am in no hurry. Your excuse for your irritability will be, I suppose, that it is constitutional, and not to be controlled, A selfish, paltry, miserable excuse! I have turned down a leaf in Dr. Johnson's works, and will read what he says in regard to tempers like yours.

Grim. You are always quoting Dr. Johnson! Cousin, I can not endure it! Dr. Johnson is a bore!

Cousin. Oh, yes! to evil-doers, but to none else. Hear him: "There is in the world a class of mortals known, and contentedly known, by the appellation of passionate men, who imagine themselves entitled, by this distinction, to be provoked on every slight occasion, and to vent their rage in vehement and fierce vociferations, in furious menaces, and licentious reproaches."

Grim. That will do.

Cousin. "Men of this kind," he tells us, "are often pitied rather than censured, and are not treated with the severity which their neglect of the ease of all about them, might justly provoke." But he adds: "It is surely not to be observed without indignation, that men may be found of minds

mean enough to be satisfied with this treatment; wretches who are proud to obtain the privilege of madmen, and

Grim. I will hear no more!

Have done!

Cousin. So the shaft went home! I am not sorry.

Grim. No one but a meddlesome old maid would think of insulting a man in his own house.

Cousin. So, when at a loss for a vindication, you reproach me with being an old maid! Cousin, it does not distress me, either to be an old maid, or to be called one. I must, however, remark, that the manhood that can charge against a woman her single state, either as a matter of ridicule or reproach, is not quite up to my standard.

Grim. Cousin Mary, I ask your pardon! But am I, indeed, the petulant, disagreeable fellow, you would make me out?

Cousin. My dear Caspar, you are generous enough in large things; but, oh! consider that trifles make up a good portion of the sum of life; and so "a small unkindness is a great offense." Why not be cheerful, sunny, genial, in little things? Why not look on the bright side? Why not present an unruffled front to petty annoyances ? Why not labor, ay, labor,-to have those around you happy and contented, by reflecting from yourself such a frame of mind upon them?

Life is short, at the best; why not make it cheerful? Do you know that longevity is promoted by a tranquil, happy habit of thought and temper'? Do you know that cheerfulness, like mercy, is twice blessed; blessing "him that gives, and him that takes'?" Do you know that good manners, as well as good sense, demand that we should look at objects on their bright side'? Do you know that it is contemptible selfishness in you to shed gloom and sorrow over a whole family by your moroseness and ill-humor'?