ourselves, or from malice against him, is a still more wicked and shameful action.

Besides the falsehood which people designedly speak, there is a kind which springs from negligence, hastiness, or a warm imagination. Dr Samuel Johnson was of opinion

that most lying arises from indifference about the truth, rather than from a wish to deceive. People are not sufficiently anxious to be correct; they say any thing that comes uppermost, or what they think will please, without reflecting whether it be strictly true or not. It is a common error of tradesmen, from a desire to please, or worse reasons, to promise to have work done at a particular time, when they are not sure of their ability to do so, or know positively that they are not able.

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Many persons, also, either from heedlessness or design, say what they think will create surprise, without supposing that they are doing any harm. Perhaps there is some truth in what they say, but it is so much magnified or exaggerated, with the view of exciting wonder, that it has the character and effect of falsehood. Such people are in the habit of using the words-vast, immense, grand, splendid, magnificent, superb, tremendous, and others of that nature, when words of a more simple meaning should be employed. Father," said a boy one day, "I saw an immense number of dogs, five hundred I am sure, in our street last night." "Surely not so many," said his father. “Well, there were one hundred, I'm quite sure." "It could not be," said the father; "I don't think there are a hundred dogs in the village." "Well, papa, it could not be less than ten: this I am quite certain of." "I will not believe you saw even ten," said the father, "for you spoke as confidently of seeing five hundred as of seeing this smaller number. You have contradicted yourself twice already, and now I cannot believe you." "Well, papa," said the disconcerted boy, "I saw at least our Dash and another one." This is an example of erroneous reporting through eagerness to make out a wonderful case. For the same reason, an uneducated man, who had been in the West Indies, hearing some one speak of the sun rising at midsummer about four in the morning, said, "Oh, that is nothing to what he does

in Jamaica. I have seen him rise there between two and three." This man did not know that that was impossible, and that we must go towards the poles, and not towards the tropics, in order to see the sun rise very early. It is common, too, to hear people say that they have not been so warm all their lives-that some one's gown is the prettiest they ever saw-or that they never were so happy as at Mrs Smith's party-when it is obvious that they are alleging what it is utterly impossible for them to be quite sure of. A little real respect for truth, and desire to follow it at all times, aided by a little reflection on the meaning of the words we are about to utter, would save us from falsehoods of this kind.

There is yet another species of falsehood, which consists in saying one thing but meaning another, and ought to be at all times avoided, the same as positive lying. Persons who resort to this mean practice, think that, because they do not lie in the words which they use, they do not commit any actual sin or crime. But this is a mere delusion. The lie is committed by the attempt to convey a false or wrong meaning, for the purpose of misleading; and such a mode of speaking is, therefore, both deceitful and sinful.

In the whole business of the world, truth is of great importance. We should not only observe it in every thing relating to ourselves and our neighbours, but we should seek to ascertain it, and hold fast by it, in all things. If we study history, we should endeavour to get the books of best authority. If we cultivate science, we should make sure that we receive nothing which is not satisfactorily proved. Nothing but good testimony can prove the truth of an event, and nothing but experiment and a careful observation of facts can prove the truth of any thing in science. We should allow no opinion to rest in our minds unless we are certain, and have taken pains to make ourselves conscientiously certain, that it is right, and not founded in error. Every wrong opinion, or supposition of what is false, tends to do harm in the world, while every thing we know for truth, and every opinion and sentiment that we know to be rightly founded, tends to the good of mankind.

THE SHEPHERD-BOY WHO CRIED WOLF!

A shepherd-boy wishing to amuse himself at the expense of his fellow-villagers, came one day running along, crying "Wolf, wolf!" as if one of those ravenous animals had attacked his flock. The people, eager to defend the sheep, bestirred themselves; but when they came to the place, they found no wolf there. So, after scolding the young shepherd, they returned home. A few days after, a wolf did really fall upon the boy's flock, whereupon he ran away to the village crying "Wolf, wolf!" with all his might. The people told him they were not to be imposed upon twice, and they therefore were resolved to pay no attention to his cries. It was in vain he protested that he was in earnest this time; they would not give ear to a word he said. The consequence was, that the wolf killed several of his sheep, for which his master immediately discharged him. Thus, by telling a single lie, though in jest, this foolish boy lost his place.

ROBERT AND FRANK.

"Come," said Robert to Frank, "there is Trusty lying beside the fire, asleep; let us go and waken him, and he will play with us." "Oh yes, do let us," said Frank. So they both ran together, towards the hearth, to awake the dog.

Now, there was a basin of milk standing upon the hearth, and the little boys did not see whereabouts it stood. As they were both playing with the dog, they kicked it with their feet, and threw it down; and the basin broke, and all the milk ran out; and when the little boys saw what they had done, they were very sorry and frightened. Robert spoke first. "So we shall have no milk for supper to-night," said he, and sighed. "No milk for supper! why not," said Frank; "is there no milk in the house?" "Yes; but we shall have none of it: for do not you remember, last Monday, when we threw down the milk, mother said we were very careless, and that the next time we did so we should have no milk for supper." "Well, then," said Frank, we must do without it, that's all; we will take more care

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ROBERT AND FRANK.

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another time: come, let's run and tell mother. You know she bids us always tell her directly when we break any thing." "I will come just now," said Robert; "don't be in such a hurry, Frank-can't you stay a minute?" So Frank staid; and then he said, "Come now, Robert." But Robert answered, "Stay a little longer, for I dare not go yet. I am afraid."

Little boys, I advise you never to be afraid to tell the truth; never say, "stay a minute," and "stay a little longer;" but run directly and tell of what you have done that is wrong. The longer you stay, the more afraid you will grow; till, at last, perhaps, you will not dare to tell the truth at all. Hear what happened to Robert. The longer he staid, the more unwilling he was to go to tell his mother that he had thrown the milk down; and at last Frank went without him in search of his mother.

Now, whilst Frank was gone, Robert was left in the room by himself; and all the while he was alone, he was thinking of some excuses to make to his mother. He said to himself, "If Frank and I both were to say that we did not throw down the basin, she would believe us, and we should have milk for supper. I am very sorry Frank would go to tell her about it." Just as he said this to himself, he heard his mother coming down stairs. "Oh ho!" said he to himself, "and so Frank has not met her, and cannot have told her; so I may say what I please." Then this cowardly boy determined to tell his mother a lie.

She came into the room; but when she saw the broken basin and the milk spilled, she stopped short, and cried, "So, so, what a piece of work is here!-who did this, Robert ?" "I don't know, ma'am," said Robert, in a very low voice. "You don't know, Robert !-tell me the truth -I shall not be angry with you-I would rather have you break all the basins I have, than to tell one lie; I ask you, Robert, did you break the basin ?" "No, ma'am, I did not," said Robert, and he coloured as red as fire. "Then where's Frank?-did he do it?" "No, mother, he did not," said Robert; for he was in hopes that when Frank came in, he should persuade him to say that he did not do it. "How do you know," said his mother, "that Frank did not do it?"

"Because-because-because, ma'am," said Robert, hesitating as liars do for an excuse," because I was in the room all the time, and I did not see him do it." "Then how was the basin thrown down?-if you have been in the room all the time, you can tell." Then Robert, going on from one lie to another, answered, "I suppose the dog must have done it." "Did you see him do it?" said his mother. "Yes," said this wicked boy. "Trusty, Trusty," said his mother, turning round: "Fie! fie! Trusty; get me a switch out of the garden, Robert; Trusty must be beat for this." Robert ran for the switch, and in the garden he met his brother; he stopped him, and told him in a great hurry all that he had said to his mother, and begged of him not to tell the truth, but to say the same that he had done. "No, I will not tell a lie," said Frank: "what! and is Trusty to be beat? He did not throw down the milk, and he shan't be beat for it. Let me go to my mother." They both ran towards the house. Robert got first home, and he locked the house door, that Frank might not come in. He gave the switch to his mother. Poor Trusty! he looked up as the switch was lifted over his head; but HE could not speak to tell the truth. Just as the blow was falling upon him, Frank's voice was heard at the window. 66 Stop, stop! dear mother, stop!" cried he, as loud as ever he could call; "Trusty did not do it-I and Robert did it; but do not beat Robert." "Let us in, let us in," cried another voice, which Robert knew to be his father's voice; for his father always whipped him when he told a lie. His mother went to the door and unlocked it. "What's all this?" cried his father as he came in; so his mother told him all that had happened. "Where is the switch with which you were going to beat Trusty?" said their father. Then Robert, who saw by his father's looks that he was going to beat him, fell upon his knees, and cried for mercy, saying, "Forgive me this time, and I will never tell a lie again." But his father caught hold of him by the arm: "I will whip you now," said he, "and then I hope you will not." So Robert was whipped till he cried so loud with the pain that the whole neighbourhood could hear him. 66 There," said his father, when he had done; "now, go without supper: you are to have