nclined; and had been engaged in any of your
employments with that ardor which some happy young people manifest in
the acquisition of knowledge; would you, in that case, have felt any
desire to know the date of Mrs. W.'s pelisse, or any curiosity in the
proceedings of our neighbors the Joneses? No, you would then have
thought it a most impertinent interruption, if any one had attempted
to entertain you with such particulars. But when the mind is indolent
and empty, then it can receive amusement from the most contemptible
sources. Learn, then, to check this mean propensity. Despise such
thoughts whenever you are tempted to indulge them. Recollect that this
low curiosity is the combined result of idleness, ignorance,
emptiness, and ill-nature; and fly to useful occupation, as the most
successful antidote against the evil. Nor let it be forgotten that
such impertinent remarks as these come directly under the description
of those 'idle words,' of which an account must be given in the day of
judgment. Yes, this vulgar trifling is as inconsistent with the spirit
of Christian benevolence, and with the grand rule of 'doing to others
as we would that they should do to us,' as it is with refinement of
taste and dignity of character."

"Who would have thought," said little Fanny, "that my happening to
bite my tongue this morning would have led to all this?"

"It would be a fortunate bite for you, Fanny," said her mother, "and
for your neighbors, if it should make you more careful in the use of
it. If we were liable to such a misfortune whenever we use our tongues
improperly, some persons would be in a constant agony. Now, if our
consciences were but half as sensitive as our nerves, they would
answer the purpose much better. Foolish talking pains a good
conscience, just as continual speaking hurts a sore tongue; and if we
did but regard one smart as much as the other, it would act as a
constant check upon the unruly member."

EYES AND NO EYES, OR THE ART OF SEEING

By JOHN AIKIN and MRS. BARBAULD

"Well, Robert, where have you been walking this after noon?" said Mr.
Andrews, to one of his pupils at the close of a holiday.

_R._ I have been, sir, to Broom heath, and so round by the windmill
upon Camp-mount, and home through the meadows by the river-side.

_Mr. A._ Well, that's a pleasant round.

_R._ I thought it very dull, sir; I scarcely met with a single person.
I had rather by half have gone along the turnpike r