to give me anxiety. But you must take pains to be punctual. When you become men, it will be of great importance that you observe your engagements. Unless you perform what is expected of you, at the proper time, people will cease to have confidence in you."

The boys promised to be punctual and obedient, and their mother assured them, that they were not often forgetful of these important duties.

Eliza came in with the bread nicely toasted, for their supper.

"What a good little one, to be thinking of her brothers, when they are away. Come, sweet sister, sit between us."

Eliza felt very happy, when her brothers each gave her a kiss, and she looked up in their faces, with a sweet smile.

The evening meal was a pleasant one. The mother and her children talked cheerfully together. Each had some little agreeable circumstance to relate, and they felt how happy it is for a family to live in love.

After supper, books and maps were laid on the table, and Mrs. Ludlow said,

"Come boys, you go to school every day, and your sister does not. It is but fair that you should teach her something. First examine her in the lessons she has learned with me, and then you may add some gift of knowledge from your own store."

So Frank overlooked her geography, and asked her a few questions on the map; and Edward explained to her a little arithmetic, and told a story from the history of England, with which she was much pleased. Soon she grew sleepy, and kissing her brothers, wished them an affectionate good-night. Her mother went with her, to see her laid comfortably in bed, and to hear her repeat her evening hymns, and thank her Father in heaven, for his care of her through the day.

When Mrs. Ludlow returned to the parlour, she found her sons busily employed in studying their lessons for the following day. She sat down beside them with her work, and when they now and then looked up from their books, they saw that their diligence was rewarded by her approving eye.

When they had completed their studies, they replaced the books which they had used, in the bookcase, and drew their chairs nearer to the fire. The kind mother joined them, with a basket of fruit, and while they partook of it, they had the following conversation.

Mrs. Ludlow. "I should like to hear, my dear boys, more of what you have learned to-day."

Frank. "I have been much pleased with a book that I borrowed of one of the boys. Indeed, I have hardly thought of any thing else. I must confess that I put it inside of my geography, and read it while the master thought I was studying."

Mrs. Ludlow. "I am truly sorry, Frank, that you should be willing to deceive. What are called boy's tricks, too often lead to falsehood, and end in disgrace. On this occasion you cheated yourself also. You lost the knowledge which you might have gained, for the sake of what, I suppose, was only some book of amusement."

Frank. "Mother, it was the life of Charles the XII. of Sweden. You know that he was the bravest soldier of his times. He beat the king of Denmark, when he was only eighteen years old. Then he defeated the Russians, at the battle of Narva, though they had 80,000 soldiers, and he had not a quarter of that number."

Mrs. Ludlow. "How did he die?"

Frank. "He went to make war in Norway. It was a terribly severe winter, but he feared no hardship. The cold was so great, that his sentinels were often found frozen to death at their posts. He was besieging a town called Frederickshall. It was about the middle of December. He gave orders that they should continue to work on the trenches, though the feet of the soldiers were benumbed, and their hands froze to the tools. He got up very early one morning, to see if they were at their work. The stars shone clear and bright on the snow that covered every thing. Sometimes a firing was heard from the enemy. But he was too courageous to mind that. Suddenly, a cannon-shot struck him, and he fell. When they took him up, his forehead was beat in, but his right hand still strongly grasped the sword. Mother, was not that dying like a brave man?"

Mrs. Ludlow. "I should think there was more of rashness than bravery in thus exposing himself, for no better reason. Do you not feel that it was cruel to force his soldiers to such labours in that dreadful climate, and to make war when it was not necessary? The historians say that he undertook it, only to fill up an interval of time, until he could be prepared for his great campaign in Poland. So, to amuse his restless mind, he was willing to destroy his own soldiers, willing to see even his most faithful friends frozen every morning into statues. Edward, tell me what you remember."

Edward. "My lesson in the history of Rome, was the character of Antoninus Pius. He was one of the best of the Roman Emperors. While he was young, he paid great respect to the aged, and when he grew rich he gave liberally to the poor. He greatly disliked war. He said he had 'rather save the life of one subject, than destroy a thousand enemies.' Rome was prosperous and happy, under his government. He reigned 22 years, and died, with many friends surrounding his bed, at the age of 74."

Mrs. Ludlow. "Was he not beloved by the people whom he ruled? I have read that they all mourned at his death, as if they had lost a father. Was it not better to be thus lamented, than to be remembered only by the numbers he had slain, and the miseries he had caused?"

Frank. "But mother, the glory of Charles the XII. of Sweden, was certainly greater than that of a quiet old man, who, I dare say, was afraid to fight. Antoninus Pius was clever enough, but you cannot deny that Alexander, and Cæsar, and Bonaparte, had far greater talents. They will be called heroes and praised, as long as the world stands."

Mrs. Ludlow. "My dear children, those talents should be most admired, which produce the greatest good. That fame is the highest, which best agrees with our duty to God and man. Do not be dazzled by the false glory that surrounds the hero. Consider it your glory to live in peace, and to make others happy. Believe me, when you come to your death-beds, and oh, how soon will that be, for the longest life is short, it will give you more comfort to reflect that you have healed one broken heart, given one poor child the means of education, or sent to one heathen the book of salvation, than that you lifted your hand to destroy your fellow-creatures, and wrung forth the tears of widows and of orphans."

The hour of rest had come, and the mother opened the large family Bible, that they might together remember and thank Him, who had preserved them through the day. When Frank and Edward took leave of her for the night, they were grieved to see that there were tears in her eyes. They lingered by her side, hoping she would tell them if any thing had troubled her. But she only said, "My sons, my dear sons, before you sleep, pray to God for a heart to love peace."

After they had retired, Frank said to his brother,

"I cannot feel that it is wrong to be a soldier. Was not our father one? I shall never forget the fine stories he used to tell me about battles, when I was almost a baby. I remember that I used to climb up on his knee, and put my face close to his. Then I used to dream of prancing horses, and glittering swords, and sounding trumpets, and wake up and wish I was a soldier. Indeed, Edward, I wish so now. But I cannot tell dear mother what is in my heart, for it would grieve her."

"No, no, don't tell her so, dear Frank, and pray, never be a soldier. I have heard her say, that father's ill health, and most of his troubles, came from the life that he led in camps. He said on his death-bed, that if he could live