and was unable to conceal her tears. However, this
reproach perfectly reformed her, and she became sensible how unbecoming
was a tyrannizing temper. It has been observed, that to be sensible of
our errors is half the work of reformation. So it happened with
Cleopatra, who with the assistance of her mother's prudent counsels,
became an amiable girl.

Her reformation was a credit to her; and it is much to be wished that
all young ladies, who take no pains to conquer their passions, would at
last imitate Cleopatra, and wish to avoid being told, that a soldier's
dress and a pair of whiskers would better become them than nice cambric
frocks and silk slips. Had Cleopatra attended to the advice of her
parents, and not have imagined that greatness consists in impertinence,
she would have been happy much sooner than she was.

[Illustration]

THE PASSIONATE BOY.

[Illustration]

Young Frederick had naturally a noble soul, elevated thoughts, and
generous notions. His turn of mind was lively, his imagination strong
and quick, and his temper cheerful and pleasing. Indeed, the elegance of
his person, and his behaviour and accomplishments, gained him the
respect of every one; but, notwithstanding all these amiable qualities,
he had one unhappy defect, which was that of giving way too readily to
the most violent emotions of passion.

It would frequently happen that, while he was amusing himself in the
circle of his playmates, the most trifling contradiction would ruffle
his temper, and fill him with the highest degree of rage and fury,
little short of a state of madness.

As he happened to be one day walking about his chamber, and meditating
on the necessary preparations for a treat his father had permitted him
to give his sister, his dear friend and favourite, Marcus, came to him,
to advise with him on that business. Frederick, being lost in thought,
saw not his friend, who therefore having spoken to him in vain, drew
nearer to him, and began to pull him by the sleeve. Frederick, angry,
and out of patience with these interruptions, suddenly turned round, and
gave Marcus such a push, that he sent him reeling across the room, and
he at last fell against the wainscot.

Marcus lay motionless on the floor, without the least appearance of
life; for, in his fall, he had struck his head against something which
had given him a deep and terrible wound, from which issued a great
quantity of blood. How shall we describe the situ