MARY, William, and George, had been out for a run over the common, and returned home half an hour before their father arrived from a particular engagement he had with a friend.

"We have been waiting for you this half hour, papa," said Mary, as Mr. Railton at length entered the room. "William wanted to begin to teach us to feel, by giving us a pinch all round, but we would not let him."

Mr. Railton. Oh, if he teaches you in such an unfeeling way, you had better not turn off your old instructor. You had better learn from your father, than from your brother.

Mary. And so we tell him, but he says

that you are going to speak about courage; and he is sure that we can have but very little courage, if we cannot bear a pinch.

Mr. R. Well, if you never get pinched harder than he pinches you, I think you will go through the world without being much hurt. The love and affection you all bear each other is a great comfort to me, and to your mother. Had your brother pinched you, as he proposed, he would have appealed less to your courage, than to your patience, forbearance, and fortitude. I am rather late to-day, and shall be obliged to leave you soon, so that you must bear in mind the long holiday we had together last Wednesday.

William. Yes, you were with us a long while then.

Mrs. Railton. And now who, of all my children, is the most courageous?

M. Oh, William, by a great deal. He is as bold as a lion in some things.

Mr. R. I have heard of some soldiers and sailors, who, though bold enough to march up to the cannon's mouth, were yet such sad cowards, as to tremble at the scratching of a mouse. Do you think that William would be frightened by a mouse, Mary?

M. Oh, never! never! papa.

Mr. R. I am not quite so sure of that. There is a great difference between being frightened by a mouse, and being frightened at a mouse. Had the soldiers and sailors

that I spoke of, known that the noise they heard was made by a mouse, they would not have been afraid: but let us go on to speak of courage, which is a very valuable quality. The feeling of courage is as a cordial to the heart; while extreme timidity, and fearfulness, sadly afflict their possessors.

W. I know what courage is, it is boldness in meeting danger, such as killing a tiger, storming a battery, and knocking down a highwayman, with the butt-end of your pistol.

Mr. R. Certainly, courage would be required to do these things; but as there are no tigers in this country to kill, no batteries that we have any intention to storm, and no highwaymen that we are at all likely to fall in with, we must put what courage we have to some other use. Courage and fortitude are much alike, for fortitude is passive courage; and courage is active fortitude. You have not forgotten I dare say, what I said, about firmness of character.

M. William and I have reason to remember it, for that was the time when I had my tooth drawn, and William had the big thorn taken out of his finger.

George. You told us that the weathercock on the church spire was placed there for the very purpose of turning about, and changing with the wind; but that if we changed about, neglecting our duties, and breaking our promises, you should be ashamed of us.

Mr. R. I believe that I did say something of that sort. Courage is an admirable quality, and I could wish you all to possess it, for circumstances are sure to occur wherein you will find it useful. An author says, "We should make great allowance for a timid disposition, for when foolish fears have once got possession of the frame, it is very difficult to repress them; but for a female to scream, as many do, as though a house were on fire, at the sight of a spider, a mouse, or a toad;

to run as if a wild bull were at her heels, when she sees a cow quietly walking at the distance of a hundred yards; or to faint on receiving a letter containing mournful intelligence, is neither creditable to her education, nor to her understanding. Neither spiders, nor frogs, nor mice, are fonder of our

company than we are of theirs; and if we only give them the opportunity, they usually convince us of this, by getting out of our way as fast as they can. A cow is a very harmless creature, and very seldom does she do any one an injury, unless she is excited to anger. And if we cannot read a letter that afflicts us without being overcome, how shall we bear the manifold afflictions of life? Do then try to gain the feeling of courage; the habit of being collected in danger, and the power of patiently enduring the trials that overtake you. Our fears magnify our dangers. If we looked our troubles steadily in the face, we should meet them with more courage, bear them better, and more speedily overcome them."

W. I know one who always screams out at the sight of a spider.

G. And I know one, too, who would almost go into fits if a frog were to leap upon

her foot.

Mr. R. Very likely. Our business, however, is not to find fault with others, but to profit by their errors. It is in youth that these foolish fears should be conquered. The courage of some men, ay, and of some women too, is surprising. When I have seen, as I have more than once, a brave fellow leap into the water, and rescue a drowning fellow-creature from destruction; or another rush forward into a house on fire, redeeming