MISTRUST YOURSELF.
The bells were ringing gaily for church, and the village was pouring out its tenants; all were bound to the holy fane, whose lofty spire was to be seen peeping from amidst the trees. Constance and Basil tripped lightly on the green sward, each with a book under the arm, and beguiling the time with blameless chat. As they moved forwards, Alfred, a worthless youth, passed them; instead of a book, he bore a hoop in his hand: his dress was shabby, and his look mean. "Basil," said Constance, "do not notice that idler; he may do you some harm, but he will not let you do him any good,"—"Nonsense, my girl," cried Basil, "he cannot, shall not lead me astray."—"Do not be too sure," said Constance. "You shall see," was the answer. "Good morrow, Alfred."—"The good day to you," said Alfred. "Whither so fast, this fine May morning? To church, I warrant! And my pretty Constance too!" Constance turned away, and walked off to a short distance, then stopped to wait for Basil. But Basil was deep in converse with the new comer, trying, as she thought, to coax him to the church; but, at the end of a few minutes, Alfred drew him from the path, and led him off to join some sports. Poor Constance wept, and went alone to church; and, when there, prayed for her dear Basil. At night he came home, with a broken head, and an empty purse. "Ah! Basil, dear, where have you been?"—"To no good, Constance, you may be sure, when Alfred led the way. My dear girl, what a fool I was to rely on my own strength, and put myself in the power of the artful and the wicked!" And Basil was very wretched, and blamed his own folly and conceit. Constance sought to console him, and spoke kindly to him thus: "Basil, the past is gone for ever; we cannot call it back; but, we can take care, that it shall not happen again. You must never more depend too much upon yourself; for, you see, you can be tempted to do wrong, even when you know it is wrong; now, if, in future, you avoid Alfred, and mistrust yourself, you will be all the better for what you have felt to-day. Thus good can be drawn from evil." Basil kissed her, and told her that her advice was very good, and he would follow it; "and your smile, Constance, shall draw me to virtue and to peace."
Mistrust Yourself.
Pubd. May 1, 1831, by J. Harris, St. Pauls Church Yard.