we should not scandalise another by anything in our speech, but contribute to his benefit by rendering our discourse instructive, or improving, or consolatory. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good, to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace to the hearers.'

6th. The law of Piety. This requires that we should never take God's name in vain, never speak lightly of His word or worship, never charge Him foolishly, never murmur under any of His dispensations. It requires that we extol His perfections, and recommend His service. Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? Let him show out of a good conversation his works, with meekness of wisdom.'

ANECDOTES FROM ESOP CONCERNING THE TONGUE.

Æsop's master having invited a large company to dinner, he was ordered to furnish the feast with the choicest dainties. Æsop accordingly laid out the money in tongues, which he served up with an appropriate sauce. The guests much commended the first course, as it furnished them with matter for conversation; but the second and third course being the same, they were astonished, as well as the gentleman of the house, who asked Æsop if there was

nothing else provided but tongues; and being answered that there was not, he began to rail and abuse Æsop. Did not I command you to prepare the choicest dainties?' And what excels the tongue?' replied Æsop. It is the great channel of learning and philosophy. By this noble organ addresses, commerce, contracts, eulogies, and marriages are completely established. On this moves life itself, and of course nothing is equal to the tongue.' The company extolled the wisdom of Æsop, and deemed it superior to that of his master.

Æsop

Some time after this, Xanthus gave another entertainment to the same guests, and Æsop was ordered to procure the worst meats. Constant to his purpose, he again provided tongues. Xanthus, more incensed still, asked him if this was the entertainment he had ordered. declared, in reply, that he had exactly fulfilled his commands; for what,' he remarked, 'is worse than the tongue? Is it not frequently the ruin of empires, cities, and private connexions? Is it not the conveyance of calumnies and lies? In short, is it not the grand disturber of civil society?' Both master and company were filled with astonishment at the wisdom of Æsop.

A wholesome tongue is a tree of life; but perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit.

ON FORTITUDE.

The human race are sons of sorrow born,
And each must have his portion: vulgar minds
Refuse or crouch beneath their load; the brave
Bear theirs without repining.

The motives to fortitude are many and powerful. This virtue tends greatly to the happiness of the individual, by giving composure and presence of mind, and keeping the passions in due subordination.

To public good it is essential, for without it, the independency and liberty of nations would be impossible. It gives to a character that elevation which poets, orators, and historians have in all ages vied with one another to celebrate. A true estimate of human life, its shortness and uncertainty, the numberless evils and temptations to which, by a long continuance in this world, we must unavoidably be exposed, ought by no means to discourage or to throw any gloom on our future prospects, but, on the contrary, to inspire fortitude.

Let it be considered, too, that pusillanimity and fearfulness can never avail us anything; as they debase our nature, poison all our comforts, and make us despicable in the eyes of others. They darken our reason, disconcert our schemes, enfeeble our efforts, extinguish our hopes, and add tenfold poignancy to all the evils of life. In battle, the brave soldier, the

man of fortitude, is in less danger than the coward; in less danger even of death and wounds, because better prepared to defend himself; in far less danger of infelicity, and has before him the animating hope of victory and honour. So, in life, the man of true fortitude is in less danger of disappointment than others are, because his understanding is clear, and his mind disencumbered. He is prepared to meet calamity without the fear of sinking under it, and he has before him the near prospects of another life, in which they who piously bear the evils of this will obtain a glorious reward.

THE FORTITUDE OF SOCRATES WHEN DYING.

It was now near the setting of the sun, and Socrates came into his room and sat down in silence, ready to die. Soon afterwards, the man who had been ordered by the magistrates to administer the poison, came in with it properly prepared. Socrates, beholding the man with the cup, said, 'It's well, my friend; but what is proper to do with it, for you are knowing in these affairs?' You have,' said the man, nothing to do after drinking it but to walk about till heaviness takes place in your legs, and then lie down.' At the same time, he held out the cup to Socrates, who received it with cheerfulness, neither trembling nor suffering any alteration for the worse in his countenance.

After holding the cup in his hand a short time, during which he discoursed a little with those present, he very quickly drank the poison.

Thus far the greater part of his friends were tolerably well able to refrain from weeping; but when they saw that he had drunk the poison, they could no longer restrain their tears; and one of them wept aloud, and with great bitterness, so that he infected all present, except Socrates. But Socrates, upon seeing this, exclaimed, 'What are you doing, excellent men? I sent away the women lest they should produce a disturbance of this kind. Be quiet, therefore, and summon fortitude to your assistance.' When they heard this, they blushed and restrained their tears. At this time the man who gave Socrates the poison, went up to him and pressed his foot, asking him if he felt it. Socrates answered that he did not, for his lower limbs were cold and stiff. Socrates then touched himself, and said to his friends, When the poison reaches my heart, I shall leave you.' Feeling that his belly was now cold, and that death was near, he threw aside the garments which covered him, and ordered Crito, who had attended him, to discharge the only debt he owed. It shall be done,' said Crito; have you any other commands?' To this inquiry Socrates made no reply, but shortly after moved himself, and then died.

This was the end of Socrates-one of the