value was awarded to the most excellent. Guidotto had prepared for this anniversary a piece which was to surpass all he had before executed. He had just finished it on the evening before the exhibition, and nothing remained but to heighten the colouring by means of a transparent varnish. This Guidotto did, and then with much satisfaction hung up his picture in the public room for exhibition on the morrow. After he had retired, however, the malignant Brunello entered the room, and spread over the picture a caustic preparation, which had the effect of greatly destroying the appearance of the piece.

Lorenzo, in the meanwhile, had also prepared himself for the day. With vast application he had finished a piece which he humbly hoped might appear not greatly inferior to some of Guidotto's carlier performances.

The important day was now arrived. The company assembled, and were introduced into the great room, where the light had just been fully admitted by drawing up a curtain. All went up with raised expectations to Guidotto's picture, when, behold! instead of the brilliant beauty they had conceived, there was nothing but a dead surface of confused and blotched colours. "Surely," they cried, "this cannot be Guidotto's!" The unfortunate youth himself came up, and on beholding the dismal change of his favourite piece, burst out into an agony of grief, and exclaimed that he was betrayed and undone. The vile Brunello in a corner was enjoying his distress. But Lorenzo was little less affected than Guidotto himself. "Trick! knavery!" he cried. "Indeed, gentlemen, this is not Guidotto's work. I saw it when only half finished, and it was a most charming performance. Look at the outline, and judge what it must have been before it was so basely injured."

The spectators were all struck with Lorenzo's generous warmth, and sympathised in the disgrace of Guidotto; but it was impossible to adjudge the prize to his picture in the state in which they beheld it. They examined all the others attentively, and that of Lorenzo, till then an unknown artist, gained a great majority of suffrages. The prize was therefore awarded to him; but Lorenzo, on receiving it, went up to Guidotto, and presenting it to him, said,

"Take what merit would undoubtedly have acquired for you, had not the basest malice and envy defrauded you of it. To me it is honour enough to be accounted your second. If hereafter I may aspire to equal you, it shall be by means of fair competition, not by the aid of treachery."

Lorenzo's nobleness of conduct excited the warmest encomiums among the judges, who at length determined that, for this time, there should be two equal prizes distributed; for that if Guidotto had deserved the prize of painting, Lorenzo was entitled to that of virtue.

THE BULLIES.

As young Francis was walking through a village with his tutor, they were annoyed by two or three cur dogs, that came running after them with looks of the utmost fury, snarling and barking, and seeming every moment ready to fly upon them. Francis every now and then stopped, and shook his stick at them, or stooped down to pick up a stone; upon which the curs retreated as fast as they came; but as soon as he turned about, they were after his heels again. This lasted till they came to a farm-yard, through which their road lay. A large mastiff was lying down in it at his ease in the sun. Francis was almost afraid to pass him, and kept as close to his tutor as possible. However, the dog took not the least notice of them.

Presently they came upon a common, where, going near a flock of geese, they were assailed with hissings, and pursued some way by these foolish birds, which, stretching out their long necks, made a very ridiculous figure. Francis only laughed at them, though he was tempted to give the foremost a switch across his neck. A little farther was a herd of cows with a bull among them, upon which Francis looked with some degree of apprehension: but they kept quietly grazing, and did not take their heads from the ground as he passed.

"It is a lucky thing," said Francis to his tutor," that mastiffs and bulls are not so quarrelsome as curs and geesc. But what can be the reason of it?"

"The reason," replied his tutor, "is, that paltry and

contemptible animals, possessing no confidence in their own strength and courage, and knowing themselves liable to injury from most of those that come in their way, think it safest to act the part of bullies, and to make a show of attacking those of whom in reality they are afraid. Whereas animals which are conscious of force sufficient for their own protection, suspecting no evil designs from others, entertain none themselves, but maintain a dignified composure.

"Thus you will find it among mankind. Weak, mean, petty characters are suspicious, snarling, and petulant. They raise an outcry against their superiors in talents and reputation, of whom they stand in awe, and put on airs of defiance and insolence through mere cowardice. But the truly great are calm and inoffensive. They fear no injury, and offer none. They even suffer slight attacks to go unnoticed, conscious of their power to right themselves whenever the occasion shall seem to require it."

THE GOVERNOR OF HAVANNAH.

When two nations are at war, each thinks itself entitled to do all possible harm to the other. They send armies into each other's territories to fight and plunder. They also fit out navies to go to sea, and destroy all the vessels belonging to the opposite party that can be found. While the wicked passions of the parties are thus excited, he is a magnanimous person indeed who can think of acting either justly or kindly to an enemy.

In the year 1746, when Britain was at war with Spain, and each was destroying many vessels belonging to the other, the Elizabeth, a merchant ship belonging to London, laden with valuable merchandise, sprung a leak while on her voyage between Jamaica and Cuba.

The men,

to save their lives, ran the vessel into the Havannah, a Spanish port, where they expected to be made prisoners of war, and to have the ship seized as a prize. The captain went ashore to deliver her up to the Spanish governor, and to intreat that he and his men might not be severely used as prisoners. To his great surprise, the governor refused to seize either the men or the vessel. "Had you come," said he, "with hostile intentions, you would have been a fair

prize; but since you come only as distressed mariners, humanity commands me, instead of injuring, to succour you. You are at liberty to repair your vessel in our port, and to traffic so far as shall be necessary to pay your charges, and then to depart as freely as any of our own vessels."

The British captain accordingly refitted his ship, and when it was ready to sail, the magnanimous governor gave him a pass, which was to have the effect of protecting him from the war-vessels of Spain till he was beyond Bermuda. The Elizabeth then sailed in peace, and in a few weeks arrived safely with her cargo in the Thames.

He who, being master of the fittest moment to crush his enemy, magnanimously neglects it, is born to be a conqueror.-LAVAter.

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HEROIS M.

ONE who boldly faces danger is called a hero. It is proper to meet danger with boldness for any good end, as, for instance, to save a fellow-creature from hurt or death, to protect our lives and property from a robber, and to defend our native country from the attacks of enemies. But there is no merit in being bold for a bad end... A robber may be brave; one nation attacking another for the mere purpose of injuring it, may be very brave; but bravery in these cases is not heroism. Military commanders have often been called heroes without deserving the name. They may have been successful in their wars; but if they have not fought for good ends, they are not truly heroes.

GRACE DARLING.

In the month of September in the year 1838, the Forfarshire, a steam-vessel proceeding from Hull to Dundee, encountered some rough weather off the coast of Northumberland. The vessel not being strong, and the machinery of the steam-engine defective, she was wrecked on the rocks

called the Great Harkars, at the extremity of one of the Ferne Islands. Many of the crew and passengers were washed off the deck and drowned; and in a situation of such great peril, no one expected to escape.

Early in the morning, the family who dwelt in the North Sunderland lighthouse, on looking abroad, beheld the vessel upon the rocks, with a powerful sea beating upon her, and which threatened her with complete destruction. Darling, the keeper of the lighthouse, would fain have gone in his boat to rescue a few of the distressed passengers, but he despaired of carrying his little bark through such a heavy sea. He was at length encouraged to make the attempt by his daughter Grace, a girl of twentytwo years of age, who offered to accompany him, and work one of the oars. They went; they reached the vessel; nine persons trusted their lives to the boat; and notwithstanding the raging of the sea, the whole party arrived safely at the lighthouse, where every necessary kindness was shown to the individuals who had been rescued. no other persons were saved from the wreck, it may be concluded that these would have perished had it not been for the heroism of Grace Darling, who was willing to risk her own life rather than allow so many fellow-creatures to sink before her eyes without an effort being made in their behalf.

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The generous conduct of this young woman attracted much attention. Her praises were for a time in every mouth. Artists flocked to her lonely dwelling to take her portrait, and depict the scene in which she had been engaged. A sum excceding six hundred pounds, collected by subscription, was presented to her; and some of the most eminent persons in the land wrote letters to her, containing warm expressions of regard. It is probable that her name and her heroic act will not soon be forgotten, for less admirable actions, which took place several thousand years ago, are still remembered. Yet this excellent girl, as modest as she was brave, was heard to remark that she never would have supposed that she had done anything extraordinary, if her conduct had not been so much spoken of by others.