“O uncle, I am so sorry!” exclaimed Johnny, with moistened eyes, as he felt the kindly grasp of the old man.

“Sorry are you? and what were you on Saturday when I shook you as a cat shakes a rat?”

“Why, uncle, I own that I was angry.”

“Sorry now, and angry then?  So it’s clear that the mild way has the best effect, to say nothing of the example.”  And Jonas fell into a fit of musing.

All was fair weather and sunshine in the home on that day, and on many days after.  Jonas had, indeed, a hard struggle to subdue his temper, and often felt fierce anger rising in his heart, and ready to boil over in words of passion or acts of violence; but Jonas, as he had endeavoured faithfully to serve his Queen, while he fought under her flag, brought the same earnest and brave sense of duty to bear on the trials of daily life.  He never again forgot his resolution, and every day that passed made the restraint which he laid upon himself less painful and irksome to him.

If the conscience of any of my readers should tell him that, by his unruly temper, he is marring the peace of his family, oh! let him not neglect the evil as a small one, but, like the poor old sailor in my story, resolutely struggle against it.  For an angry man stirreth up strife, and a furious man aboundeth in transgression.

    There is sin in commencing strife;
      Sin in the thoughtless jest
        Or angry burst,
        Which awakens first
      The ire in a brother’s breast!

    There is sin in stirring up strife,
      In fanning the smouldering flame,
        By scornful eye,
        Or proud reply,
      Or anger-stirring name.

    There is sin in keeping up strife,
      Dark, soul-destroying sin. 
        Who cherishes hate
        May seek heaven’s gate,
      But never can enter in.

    For peace is the Christian’s joy,
      And love is the Christian’s life;
        He’s bound for a home
        Where hate cannot come,
      Nor the shadow of sin or strife!