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POWDER AND BALLS.
POWDER AND BALLS. Let ancient or modern bistory be produced, they will not afford a more heroic reply than that of the Yankees at Stonington, to the British commanders. The people were piling the balls, which the enemy had wasted, when the foe applied to them,“ We want balls; will you sell them ?” They answered, “ We want powder; send us powder, and we 'll return your balls."
REPUTATION. The desire of praise, when it is discreet and moderate, is always attended with emulation and a strong desire of excelling; and so long as we can stop here, there is no harm done to ourselves or others. St Paul exhorts christians to follow, not only whatsoever things are right, but whatsoever things are of good report. The love of reputation, therefore, if it be not joined to a bad disposition, will scarcely of itself lead us to immoral actions.
Yet the things which the world generally admires and praises most, are not the things in their own nature most valuable. They are those bright abilities and fair endowments, which relate to the present life, and terminate with it. Christian virtues are of a more silent and retired nature. God and good angels approve them ; but the busy world overlooks them. So that he who principally affects popular approbation, runs some danger of living and dying, well known to others, and little known to bimself; ignorant of the state of his own soul, and forgetful of the account which he has to render up to God.
THE LITTLE VOYAGERS. The lake was smooth and not a breath
Stirr'd through the sleeping grove; The oak tree hung as mute as death
Upon the hills above: “Come, sister,” said the young Arnest,
While sporting on the bank; “Come, o'er this water's silvery breast
Let's sail upon this plank.”
“Yes, brother," and the plank she drew
Along the slippery sand,
And they drifted from the land.
Sleeping in sunshine bright,
Shall melt away in night.
Yet forth they drifted, till the lake,
Roused by the evening breeze, Around the plank began to break,
And swell in little seas : “ Alas, my brother!” cried Florelle,
And raised a piteous scream ; Till both grown sick and dizzy, fell
Into the treacherous stream.
So, they who sail on pleasure's streams,
Move beauteously away;
Elysian and gay;
By zephyr's scented breath,
And waft them on to death.
Thought it quite entertaining
He should be a little wild.
She let him climb upon her back,
And bite her by the ear;
“Be quiet ;- there's a dear.” The puppy had an uncle,
A sober quiet dog,
Had a muzzle or a clog ;
Your little pet restrain,
And never come again.
“ You let him tumble you about,
Jump up, and knock you down;
When you rather ought to frown. “I think it right to laugh and romp,
When by yourselves at home;
When other people come.”
" Your uncle's very cross ;
Good morning, Mr Horse.
And Mrs Goose behind;
Now this is very kind.”
It seems, of no avail;