time more satisfactorily than in attending Sundayschools, and laying a good foundation for the knowledge of religion and virtue, in the minds of those poor children, whose parents are incapable of the task, both from ignorance and poverty?

Works of love and charity, of every kind, are adapted to the day; and, by their variety, afford an agreeable change. Sunday is too often felt as a burthensome, tedious opportunity, by the slothful trifler; but, if properly spent, will pass like other time well employed, without satiety, and its return be sincerely welcomed.

ANECDOTE OF A MONKEY.

THE Monkey tribe, when domesticated, have so many entertaining tricks, from their faculty of imitation, that they have frequently been supposed to possess more sagacity than other creatures, and have been the peculiar favourites of those who delight in the playfulness of tame animals.

It is difficult to give a reason for the effect, though the fact is certain, that the most solemn actions, when mimicked with an exact imitation of attitude and grimace, become ridiculous, and excite laughter; especially when the creature is of an inferior nature. An oran otan has great resemblance to a man in figure, and possesses the power of mimickry in a high degree.

A droll story is related of one of these creatures that had been long kept by Père Carbasson, and was extremely attached to him. He followed him, if possible, wherever he went; and, one day, escaping the father's attention, who was generally careful to confine him when he wished to get rid of his company, he slily attended him to church, and, mounting on the soundingboard above the pulpit, unperceived, he lay quietly till the service began. As soon as the preacher commenced the sacred ceremonies, Pug crept to the edge of the sounding-board, and, over-looking his master, imitated every gesture with such a solemn air, and in so grotesque a manner, that the whole congregation was in a general titter.

The father, insensible of the cause of such ill-timed levity, reproached his audience for their improper behaviour when commencing the duties of Divine worship. The mimic, above his head, continued to imitate every gesture with the greatest archness. The people could not compose their countenances; but, in spite of their utmost efforts, their risible muscles were set in motion again and again. The preacher now began to grow angry; and, in the warmth of his displeasure, redoubled his vociferations and his gestures: he thumped the pulpit with earnestness, raised his hands on high, and accompanied their motion by a corresponding nod of the head. The oran otan repeated all these actions with the most grotesque mockery; till at last the congregation had no power over themselves, but burst into one loud and successive laughter.

The preacher stood aghast at this unaccountable folly and disrespect, and would probably have left the church had not one of his friends stepped up to him, and pointed out the cause of this extraordinary behaviour. On looking up, it was with the greatest difficulty he could command his own countenance, and preserve the serious aspect of his sacred character, whilst the officers belonging to the church were employed in removing this comical intruder from his situation.

A young lady happened to be employed in making tea for a very large company, to which Samuel Foote, the comedian, was accidentally introduced. He seated himself opposite to her, and, with unfeeling rudeness, began to imitate every action of the tea-table. He pretended to drink when she drank, to pour out the tea when she raised the tea-pot; and so exactly mimicked all her actions, as excited the attention of the whole company, and raised a general laugh. The poor young lady was confounded, and scarcely had courage to retain her post.

In either of these cases, I am at a loss to discover the cause of the merriment of the spectators: there was nothing ridiculous, either in the conduct of the preacher or the employment of the young lady. The drollery must consist in the exact imitation, or in the confusion of the person who thus becomes the object of general observation and mirth.

If it be the latter, it is a pleasure founded on the painful feelings of another, and should be corrected by all persons of humanity. In whatever light it is viewed,

the imitator is a proper object of ridicule; and so far from a mimic having the smallest pretensions to wit, he fails of originality, invention, and almost of a claim to good sense.

It is a dangerous, contemptible talent, and is sure to expose the possessor to hatred and contempt.

ON HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

ONE of the principal advantages of reading, is to learn wisdom from the experience of others, free from the sufferings that have given them a capacity to afford us the instructive lessons, that may be gleaned from books of history and biography especially. No path of literature seems better calculated to delight and instruct than the latter, which introduces us to the private acquaintance of the most distinguished characters that have ever lived.

The robe of disguise worn by many is stripped off, and we frequently perceive, in the retired scenes of a man's home and family, that great talents and the laurels of a high reputation, are tarnished by sallies of temper, littleness of mind, or peculiarities that mark a degree of imperfection, inconsistent with the dignity of the hero or philosopher.

In other instances, the character of the great man is heightened, by an investigation into the undisguised re

cesses of his private life, and the example rendered more useful by applying to the daily occurrences in which we ourselves are interested. Considered in this light, the most minute habit is worth recording, if tending to the promotion of virtue. Thus, from the immortal Howard we may learn the most exact punctuality in all our engagements, the most abstemious temperance in the gratification of our appetites, and an indifference to personal indulgence; at the same time that we are instructed by his universal benevolence, and most arduous and unremitted exertions to promote it by the greatest private sacrifices.

Whilst we contemplate with admiration the steps by which Benjamin Franklin rose from a poor printer's boy, wandering, without friends or money, in a strange city, to be ranked amongst the most powerful benefactors to his country, and the greatest philosopher of his age; we are taught by his example to estimate the advantages of patient industry; an independence of mind, that feels a higher enjoyment in moderate gains, earned by himself, than the rich gifts of fortune bestowed by another; and the solid advantage of applying our talents to purposes of utility rather than show.

The greatest genius that ever adorned this country or any other, sir Isaac Newton, gave a most instructive lesson on the government of the temper, when his little dog, ignorant of the mischief he occasioned, tore to pieces a manuscript on which he had bestowed much time and application. Sir Isaac, instead of violent expressions of anger, or venting his resentment on the animal that