tion to the hard sums at school! How I wish I had thought more how they were done, and puzzled at them till they were worked! I ought to have asked myself the questions which William told me to do, and then I should have got on as well as he has.

We see, from the case of Thomas, the great need of thinking how the sums are done, and not to CONTENT ourselves with working the easy ones only. In fact, to imitate William and not Thomas, if we wish to succeed.

EXERCISE.

Which lesson did William like best? Why? Why did Thomas like the sums? What did Thomas say was necessary in working hard sums? How did William show he was dishonest? What effect had their school-work on their after life? Which was the more successful?

ABOUT eighty years ago there was a change of government in France. The people rose up in REBELLION, cut off the heads of their king and queen, and killed a great many people who were ATTACHED to them. One of these persons who was thus EXECUTED had a very faithful dog, of which I will give you a short account.

This dog was a water SPANIEL ten or twelve years

THE PRISONER'S DOG.

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old, which had been brought up with him, and had never left him. When his master was put into prison, all his family were obliged to flee; all his friends left him; he was FORSAKEN by all, except his dog. The gaoler would not let the dog into the prison, so he went back to a neighbour that lived near his master's house.

But he did not forget him. Once every day he left this house and went to the prison. They would not let him in; but he stopped an hour before the door, and then went back again. One day the porter was so much struck with the AFFECTION of this poor dog, that he opened the prison-door and let him go in. He saw his master, and was filled with joy. But the time came when he must go out again, and this pained him very much.

However, after this, once every day they let in this poor dog to see his master. He licked his hand, looked up in his face, again licked his hand, and then went away of himself.

But the day now came when the prisoner had to be tried by the judge. He was one of those who had been true to the king, so he was not likely to be let off. Although the crowd was very great, the dog managed to creep into the hall of justice between the legs of his master. The judge condemned the prisoner to die, so now the dog would lose his friend for ever. When the hour of execution arrived, the dog made his way upon the SCAFFOLD. The axe falls, cuts off his master's head, but still the dog follows his dead body. He watches the men dig the grave, and when they have finished, he lies down upon it, waiting perhaps for his master to come again.

There he passed the first night, the next day, and the second night. The neighbour, in the meantime, unhappy at not seeing him, searches for the dog, finds him, and makes him eat. But an hour afterwards the dog had gone back to the grave. Three months passed away, each morning of which he came to seek his food, and then returned to the grave of his master.

Each day he was more sad, more MEAGRE, and he seemed LANGUISHING away. They tried by chaining him up to wean him from his sorrow, but his grief was too strong within him. He broke his fetters, escaped, and never left the grave after. It was in vain that they tried to carry him away. They brought him food, but he ate it no longer.

One day he began digging up with his feet the earth that separated him from his beloved master. PASSION gave him strength, and he, little by little, got nearer to the body. The farther he dug, the more excited he became, he SHRIEKED in his troubles, his faithful heart gave way, and he breathed out his last breath, as if he knew that he had found his master at last.

EXERCISE.

How did this dog show that he loved his master? Why was his master put to death? How did he try to get to him again?

IN a former lesson we read of a poor boy raising himself by hard work and skill to a high position in his calling. We are now going to read of one who, though he was born in a high station of life, did not see fit, on that ground, to waste his time and means of doing good; but, by his ability and courage, has left a name behind him which is looked upon with pride.

SIR PHILIP SYDNEY.

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This man was Philip Sydney, who was born on the 29th November, 1554; so that he lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth.

His father, Sir Henry Sydney, lived at Penshurst in Kent, and was himself a clever man, for Queen Elizabeth made him Governor of Ireland, and he is said to have filled that office well.

Young Philip was sent to school at Shrewsbury. He was a sharp, clever boy at school, and was fond of learning. His father, knowing that he bore a good character there for his studies, wrote a nice, affectionate letter to him, to encourage him in his work. He was soon fit to go from Shrewsbury to COMPLETE his scholarship at Christ Church, Oxford, where he spent three years.

After TRAVELLING for some time through France and Austria, he RETURNED to England and became a COURTIER to Queen Elizabeth.

For a time he PREFERRED a quiet life at Wilton to the gay scenes of Court life, and spent his time in writing several poems; but he soon returned to Court, and was made Sir Philip Sydney by the queen.

She appointed him Governor of Flushing, in the year 1585, at a time when England was assisting Holland in a war against Spain.

It was in this war that Sir Philip met with his death wound; for it was at Zutphen that his forces met by accident three thousand of the enemy, and a battle took place, in which Sydney was shot. To show his courage, we are told that, while at his post he had two horses shot under him, and still he led on his men ; but, soon after, a shot hit him on the leg, wounding him so severely that, after suffering for a few days, he died.

There is a story told of Sydney and a soldier, which shows that this brave man felt for the cares and troubles of his men more than he did for his own WELFARE. As he was being carried to his tent, bleeding at the wound which he had received, and thirsty from faint and FATIGUE, he called for something to drink to ALLAY his thirst. As he was lifting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier being carried past

him, who had in like manner received his death wound. The poor man cast a longing look at the bottle, and Sir Philip, seeing this, at once handed it to him, and bade him drink, saying, “Thy NECESSITY is greater than mine."

It was an act which should be borne in mind by every child, and thought over as a noble deed of a good and kind officer towards his soldier. Such conduct as this well DESERVED the respect of the whole nation. We read that when he was brought to England to be buried, there was a general MOURNING for him, for he had obtained the favour of almost every one. He was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral, in the year 1586.

Penshurst Park has, or at least had within the last few years, a famous oak tree in it, measuring twentytwo feet round it. This is said to have been planted when Sir Philip Sydney was born. But whether that be so or not, it is pleasant to think over men like Sydney, who were kind to those about them, and especially to those brave men who fought under them for the safety and honour of their country.

EXERCISE.

What was Sydney's character at school? Where did he travel? How did he spend his time at Wilton? How did he meet with his death wound? Relate the story of Sir Philip and the soldier. Where was he buried?