There are a great many curious fish in the sea, some very large indeed, and others very small; about many of which I shall be happy to tell you more at some future time."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

EMULATION.

A CONVERSATION BETWEEN HENRY AND HIS FATHER.

"What is the matter, Henry?" asked Mr. Carey of his son, who looked more sober than usual, one day, after his return from school.

"I don't feel happy," Henry replied, looking up into his father's face with an effort to smile. "But I suppose it is my own fault, although I can't help it."

"Has anything very particular happened?"

"No, sir. Nothing very particular. Only I've been next to head in my cla.s.s for a week."

"Next to head! Why, I thought you had been at the head of your cla.s.s for the last three or four months."

"So I have been until within a week. But, since then, do all I can, Herbert Wellmore keeps his place above me."

"And this is the reason of your unhappiness?"

"Yes, sir."

"But do you think it is a just cause of unhappiness?"

"I always feel bad if I am not first in everything, father."

"Do you think it right to feel so, Henry?"

"Is it not right, father, for me to excel others in every way?"

"Yes, if it is in your power to do so; for then you can be more useful than any one else. But, it seems that Herbert Wellmore can excel you--and I suppose he does so fairly."

"Oh, yes. It is fair enough--and that is just what I don't like. It shows that he can do better than I can."

"Then he will have it in his power to be more useful to his fellow-men than you. And should not this make you glad instead of discontented?"

"I didn't think anything about that, father."

"So I supposed--if you had so thought, you would, probably, never have been willing to have seen your school-fellow. But why does this circ.u.mstance make you unhappy?"

"I don't like any one to get ahead of me."

"Why?"

Henry tried to determine in his own mind the reason, but was unable to do so. Mr. Carey saw this, and added:

"Don't you think that selfishness has something to do with it?

Wounded self-love, I have before told you, is a frequent cause of our unhappiness. Now, think again, and try if you cannot determine the reason why you wished to excel all others in your cla.s.s."

"That I might be thought to be the smartest boy in it, I suppose."

"Would you not call that a mere selfish feeling?"

"I suppose so. And yet ought I not to try and keep ahead?"

"Certainly, as I have said before. But you should not feel the slightest pain if another boy excels you fairly. Suppose every boy were to be disturbed in mind, as you have been, because other boys were in advance;--don't you see that every boy in a cla.s.s, but one, would be unhappy? And would that be right? None of us, my son, have minds alike.

This, you know, I have before explained to you, and also the reason why it is so. Now, do you remember that reason?"

"It is because in society there are various uses, all requiring a different order of talent. Is not that the reason?"

"Yes, my son; that is the reason, and I am glad you have remembered so correctly what I told you a few days ago. From this you may see that there is always something that one person will be able to do better than another; and, of course, one kind of knowledge that he will be able to acquire more easily than another. Have you not, yourself, noticed, that while one boy excels in penmanship, another, who cannot learn to write even a fair hand, will far outstrip this one in arithmetic?--and a third go ahead of the other two in acquiring a correct geographical knowledge?--A fourth delights most in the study of navigation and surveying, while a dull boy, in almost everything else, can acquire a knowledge of chemical laws more rapidly than any in his cla.s.s. You have, of course, observed all this?"

"Oh, yes, frequently. There is Thomas Wiley, for instance, who, in spelling, reading, and writing, is always behind every one else; and yet no one can answer more questions in geography, or project so beautiful a map, as he can. Charles Lee has no trouble at all with the hardest question in algebra; but is deficient in grammar, and hates his Latin and Greek more than any punishment or reprimand the teacher can give.

And, now I think of it, I don't know any two boys in school who are alike in regard to learning their lessons."

"Do you not think that it would be very foolish in Thomas Wiley to make himself unhappy because he could not write so pretty a hand as you do?

Or for Charles Lee to forget all his skill at solving algebraic problems, in making himself miserable because he was behind another boy in Latin and Greek, whose mind was peculiarly fitted for the acquirement of language, while his was not?"

"I certainly think it would, father."

"Then bring this home to yourself. Is there no one thing in which you can excel Herbert Wellmore?"

"Yes, sir. I can solve a problem in half the time it takes him to do it in. But, then, he is always correct--and so gets as much as I do from the teacher, who does not seem to take into account my superior quickness."

"In this, I need hardly point out to you, my son, the selfish principle that influences you. Instead of feeling grateful to your heavenly Father for having given you the ability to work out a difficult problem with half the labour it costs another, you are unhappy because this superior ability is not praised, and you, in consequence, held up to view as deserving of more commendation than Herbert; when, in fact, he is the one who should be praised for his steady perseverance in overcoming difficulties that are as nothing to you."

"I believe I have permitted myself to indulge in wrong feelings," Henry said, after remaining silent for a few moments. "But I think you have told me that emulation is not to be condemned."

"It certainly is not, my son. I would have you, as now, emulous of superior acquirements; but, at the same time, aware, that in this emulation there would be no jealousy or unkind feelings. Be first in everything, if possible,--and yet willing to see others excel you,--remembering, that in so excelling they will have the power to be more useful to mankind; for the true power that resides in knowledge is the power of doing good."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

A NURSE'S SONG.

The voice of children is heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill; When my heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still.

"Now, come home, my children, the sun is down, And the dews of night fall fast; Come, leave off play, and let us away, Till the morning appears in the east."

No, no, let us play, for it is yet day-- And we cannot go to sleep; Besides, in the sky, the little birds fly, And the hills are all covered with sheep.

"Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And _then_ go home to rest."

The little ones leaped, and shouted, and laughed, And all the hills echoed for joy.