2. Yet no attention did it win,
By all these efforts made,
And less offensive had it been
In some retired shade.

3. For though within its scarlet breast
No sweet perfume was found,
It seem'd to think itself the best
Of all the flowers around.

4 From this may I a hint obtain,
And take great care indeed,
Lest I should grow as pert and vain,
As is this gaudy weed.

LESSON LII.

THE VIOLET.

1. Down in a green and shady bed

A modest violet

grew,

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.

2. And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colour bright and fair;

It might have grac'd a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.

3. Yet there it was content to bloom,
In modest tints array'd;

And there it spread its sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.

4. Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see,
That I may also learn to grow,
In sweet humility.

LESSON LIII.

THE SHOWER.

1. "THIS is a silly doll, and I won't play with her any longer," said little Mary, peevishly throwing down her waxen baby which she had been dressing and undressing for the last half hour; "I can't make her do as I wish her to, all this day."

2. "And do you expect your doll to understand your wishes, Mary?" said her mother gently.

3. "No, indeed, mamma, I am not so foolish as to suppose my waxen doll can know any thing, but I mean that every thing goes wrong.

4. "One dress is a great deal too large, and the other is so small I cannot put it on; only see how I have torn the sleeve with trying; it does seem as if every thing was determined to trouble me to-day.

5. "In the first place, I could not go to Brighton with papa in the morning, because of this little, fine, ugly rain, though I had depended so much upon going.

6. " And then at breakfast, I spilled my coffee all over my nice, clean, favourite frock, which I had put on on purpose to go and see my cousin.

7." Then, when I was obliged to put on this French dress, which is the ugliest gown that ever was made, I must break the string only tying it, and when I was sewing it again, I pricked my finger most sadly; it aches yet.

8. "Then I tried to play with my cup and ball; it would not go once into the cup all I could do, and now my doll acts just as badly."

9. "Stop, stop, my little girl, while I tell you, that in all this long list of misfortunes, there is but one which you might not have prevented, and you should not complain of those which you invite."

10. "Invite, mamma!" exclaimed Mary, “I am sure I don't know what you mean;-I did not wish to spoil my pretty gown, or to break my string, or to prick my poor finger so; and above all, I did not want it should rain such little, still, soft rain, just to disappoint me.

11. "I had a great deal rather it would have poured down as hard as it could, and then it might have cleared away by this time, as it almost always does, when it rains so violently, and I might have gone after all; but it keeps on just so-patter, patter, patter-how it does vex me to hear it !"

12. "I am very sorry, my little girl, to see you so discontented and unhappy; and I repeat to you, Mary, that when you speak of the rain, you inention the only misfortune which you have not brought on yourself."

13. "I wish you would tell me what you mean, mother."

14. "You foolishly and wickedly lost your temper, Mary, and suffered the naughty angry spirit to fill your heart, because the rain prevented your expected pleasure; you came to breakfast with this ill humoured feeling, and you pulled your cup of coffee to you with so much violence, that it could not fail to be spilled over you; do you remember this?”

15. Mary hung her head; "Yes, mamma, but I did not think it would jerk over me so."

16. "No, Mary, but you did not try to govern your temper. If you had quietly submitted to the disappointment which you could not avoid, this accident would not have been added to your troubles: you see, then, that this was of your own creating.

17. "Then you went to change your dress, with all this ill humour in your heart, and pulled

the string of your slip with such force, as would have broken it, if it had been much stronger; this second misfortune, then, you might also have prevented if you had restrained your temper tolerably; do you remember this ?""

18. Mary did remember, and she knew that all her mother said was true, and more: Mary remembered-(what she had been ashamed to complain of) that she had pulled her string with such violence, that when it broke, her hand came with such force against the table as to hurt her very much.

19. But she did not answer her mother, for she had not yet subdued her angry feelings, and was not yet ingenuous enough to acknowledge her fault-she hung her head in silence.

20. "The next misfortune, Mary," continued her mother, 66 was the wound on your finger, which you feel now; was not this also caused by the quick and pettish manner in which you attempted to sew your string?

21. "If you had been gentle, and careful, as you ought, would your needle have been forced under your nail so far as to cause you so much pain?

22. "And even then, my daughter, had you but reflected that you were suffering all these repeated punishments for your bad temper, and that probably they would continue to multiply, till you did repent and conquer yourself, the remainder of the day might have passed very happily.