selves would have been too much. In time, one grows tired of being entertained.'

Would it then mend the matter to read tiresome things between the entertaining ones?' said Lucy.

'I am not sure but it would,' replied Harry. Lucy laughed. I mean,' continued Harry, if the tiresome things are worth reading; for tiresome things often leave useful impressions behind them; besides, there is a pride in getting through them, and if there is any difficulty, we have the pleasure of

success.'

'I agree to that,' said Lucy; 'a little success, or a little bit of praise, refreshes me very much. And I think, Harry, you will allow that you are not tired now; for I am sure you have got to the bottom of this subject.'

Harry was this day to arrange his occupations and amusements in his own way. While Lucy went out to her garden, he applied to Euclid for half an hour, that he might, as he said, earn an appetite for a story which he knew Lucy had in store for him-Nourjahad. He stopped her at Nourjahad's first sleep of a hundred years, at a moment when he was very curious to know what would come next-what would happen when he awakened. Then he went to a translation of a passage in Euripides, which he said he would prepare for his father; after working at that for some time, he amused himself with the shipwreck of the Winterton, in which he was much interested; but his father coming

in, an hour was spent between Greek and English tolerably successfully, and therefore without fatigue. The next hour was spent in trying to complete an invention, which he had long had in contemplation. Lucy went to her own affairs while he was thus occupied, and promised to return in half an hour; but at the end of this time when she appeared, he told her she might stay away another half hour; and then she found him looking very much tired, for he had not been successful in his invention, and he had persisted in thinking of it too long. He was however refreshed by some more of Nourjahad, in which he was very happily engaged, when Lucy was summoned by the sound of the dressing bell -Looking at each other, they both exclaimed, 'So soon!'

We cannot pretend to say, that on the following days Harry was always equally successful in arranging his occupations, so that 'labor and rest should equal periods keep.' Much greater philosophers than he daily fail in this attempt, and Harry, it seems, was not always so great a philosopher as he thought himself. Though he had been very grand in resisting the temptation of reading too much of Nourjahad at once; yet one day temptation came, which he could not resist, in the form of Baron Trenck's Memoirs. Lucy began to read it to him after his morning's mathematics; but after reading an hour, she observed that it was time to go to her garden. Harry intreated her to go on half an hour

longer, if she was not tired. 'Not in the least,' said Lucy, 'I am only afraid of tiring you.' Half an hour-an hour longer she went on, and then she left him to repose; but no repose could Harry take, he was so anxious to know whether the first hole that Baron Trenck made in his dungeon wall was discovered by his jailor. He eyed the book, which Lucy had left on the table, as she thought out of his reach; but with the aid of a pair of lazy tongs, he drew the tempting volume to him, and never stopped till it was finished. Lucy coming in, he asked her voraciously for the second volume. She was astonished at his having already devoured the first, and demurred, but soon yielding to his imploring emphasis on the persuasive little word, 'Do let me have it, my dear.' In short, the whole day was spent upon it. When he had finished, he felt as if there was a universal blank in the world. Nothing could interest him after this strong stimulus, and in the evening he was obliged to acknowledge, that he was เ very much tired indeed.'

Lucy demurely observed, and Harry readily agreed with her that we may tire ourselves as much by going on too long with one entertaining thing, as by flying about to a variety.

It must be said on behalf of Harry, that his confinement on the sofa rendered it somewhat difficult for him to get through the day without fatigue of mind, because he was debarred from that kind of labor of body, which we call exercise, and which is found most useful

in restoring the freshness of the spirits. Lucy's power of making him laugh had been often found the best substitute for bodily exertion; and she again satisfactorily proved, that 'Laughter holding both his sides,' takes and gives exercise in a most salutary manner.

'Mother,' said Lucy, when they had done laughing, it was very well worth while to listen that day to Harry's reasons, I have not tired him so much since.'

'Never,' cried Harry. 'Indeed, she has always hindered me from tiring myself.'

'And do you know, mother,' continued Lucy, 'he can do much more in the day now than he could before, because we have arranged it rightly.'

Harry observed, that they had been obliged to try a great many experiments before they had brought things to this happy conclusion.

'You see, mother,' said Lucy, 'that Harry must have experiments some way or other: and now that he has neither balloons, nor workshop, nor laboratory, and cannot stir from his sofa, he is reduced to try them on his own mind or on mine.'

'And that is very convenient,' said Harry, 'for we have all we want for the purpose in ourselves. Mother, do not you think it is useful?'

'Very useful, my dear, for by these means you may learn to command your own mind, while at the same time you are acquiring some insight into the minds of others: and, by juVOL. 4.

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diciously arranging, your occupations, you may not only get more done in the same period, but you may strengthen, quicken, and enlarge all the powers of your understanding.'

HARRY was now well enough to be brought out into the common sitting room. His sofa had large castors, which moved so easily, that Lucy, without any help, could roll him from room to room. One evening she was admiring these castors, and Harry, who had not failed to examine their construction, undertook to explain to her on what their excellence depended. He told her, that in common castors the upright pin, round which they turn, is so short that it has no support, being only just long enough to rivet through the lower plate of the brass socket; but that in these castors the pin is five or six inches long, and tapered to the upper end, which is made to play in a little iron thimble let into the leg of the sofa. So that you see, Lucy, the long pin is always kept in its place; and as it turns round with very little friction, it allows the wheel to take at once the direction in which the leg is moving.'

'His father remarked, that castors on the same principle were now sold, as a recent invention, by the name of French castors, though a print of a similar contrivance is to be found in a Dutch book on windmills, printed above a hundred years ago. 'In this trivial circum