Edward was a good-natured boy. I was fond of him as a school-fellow; for he was not selfish and mean. He liked to oblige his play-fellows. We have had many a good game together; and after we both grew up to be young men, we were often together, and he was always willing to do anything that I asked him to do. This is how I came to have the stock put to that small gun-barrel.

But Edward had one fault-one great fault:

he was passionate. At school, if any other boy offended him, he used instantly to turn red in the face, and his eyes sparkled as if

there were real fire in them. Then he would rush upon the boy who had offended him, and strike him with such fury, that plainly showed how angry, very angry he was. Or, if he were kept from doing this, he would call such bad names, and use such shocking language, as I should be very sorry for my little boy even to hear.

This passion did not last long. Edward soon became cool; and then he was very sorry for what he had said or done, and used to try, in different ways, to make amends for it. But while the passion lasted, it was very terrible to see.

I am afraid that poor Edward, though he was sorry when his passions were over, did not sorrow in the right way. He felt that this bad temper made him uncomfortable with himself, and with all around him; but he did not feel that it was very sinful, and he did not go to God for pardon, and ask for the aid of the Holy Spirit to help him in time to come. If he had truly done this, I should not now have to say of him what I am about to say.

When Edward left school, he was apprenticed to learn a trade. There were several young men in the shop in which he worked, and also some older men. Here, as at school, he became a great favourite. He was good-natured to his fellow-apprentices and workmen, and was generally willing to oblige them. But here also, as at school, Edward gave way to his unruly

passions. When offended, he flew into a rage; and it was really quite dangerous to be near him while the fit lasted. I am sorry to say, that when the workmen, who were older, and ought to have known better, found out poor Edward's weakness, they began to delight to teaze him, and to set the younger ones on to teaze him too. So, between passion and repentance, Edward had but an uneasy time of it in the workshop. Once, when enraged by some silly, wicked trick that had been played him--I say a wicked trick, because it was done on purpose to teaze him—he snatched up a hatchet which lay on the bench, and declared that he would kill the person who had thus enraged him. I have no doubt, if he had had full strength for his anger at that moment, that he would have done as he said. Oh, what a sinful thing passion is! The Bible tells us, that "whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer," 1 John iii. 15; and I fear that poor Edward often hated those who were about him—that is, when he was in a passion.

And indeed Edward did, at length, become almost a murderer. He was one evening in a public house-where he ought not to have been-drinking with some of his companions, instead of being quietly and usefully employed at home. This was after he became a man, and had a comfortable home of his own to go to, when his day's work was done; so that there was no excuse for his being where

he was. But he was at the public house; and while there, something was said which at once put Edward into a passion. His eyes flashed with rage-as was usual with him at such times-and, in a moment, he caught up a large knife, which lay on the table near him, and stabbed his companion with it, with all his force.

In a moment, Edward's passion was over. He saw what he had done, and was sorry, very sorry. But sorrow was of no use; it could not take back the blow; and the poor man whom he had wounded lay senseless on the floor, bleeding, and like one dead. A surgeon and a constable were both sent for. The constable took Edward away, and put him in confinement; and the surgeon examined the man who was injured. It was found that he was not dead; but he was for a long time in great danger. As for Edward, he was sent to prison; and afterwards was tried at the assizes, and sent to prison for a long, long time, where he was very unhappy indeed, and from which he did not come out until his prospects for life were in a very sad, ruinous condition. And, worse than this, the guilt of bloodshedding is resting upon him, unless he has repented, and gone to God for pardon through Jesus Christ. Let us hope that he has done so, and then he will find that "the blood of Jesus Christ," God's own Son, cleanseth "from all sin," 1 John i. 7.

Now, shall I tell you why I have told you this history?

G. Yes, father, if you please.

Mr. H. I have not told it you because you are a passionate boy in general. I am very happy to believe that you are not; and we ought to thank God every day for this, and for every other mercy and favour. But, my dear boy, we ought to remember, too, that the seed of every sin is in our own wicked hearts, and that nothing but the grace of God can remove it. We ought to pray for this grace. We should remember, too, that by giving way only a very little to angry passions, we may soon become very passionate and cruel.

in

"Hard names, at first, and threat'ning words,
That are but noisy breath,

May grow to clubs and naked swords,

To murder, and to death."

Think of this, my boy; and never, never suffer an angry feeling to abide for a moment heart. Whenever you do feel angry your with any one, think of your father's old playfellow, and pray for grace to help you to conquer your angry feeling.