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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,
Around his neck her arms she threw

And they drifted from the land.
Poor children! though these waters lie

Sleeping in sunshine bright,
That ray, which dazzles now the eye,

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;
For every scene around them, seems

Elysian and gay;
But, when attracted from the shore

By zephyr's scented breath,
The threat’ning waves begin to roar,

And waft them on to death.

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Thought it quite entertaining

He should be a little wild.

She let him climb upon her back,

And bite her by the ear;
She curb’d him not, but only said

“Be quiet ;- there's a dear.” The puppy had an uncle,

A sober quiet dog,
Who said " I wish that urchin

Had a muzzle or a clog ;
“Dear sister, if you don't, in time,

Your little pet restrain,
Your visitors will quit your house,

And never come again.

“ You let him tumble you about,

Jump up, and knock you down;
You laugh at all his rudeness,

When you rather ought to frown. “I think it right to laugh and romp,

When by yourselves at home;
But you should check the little brat,

When other people come.”
He went away; the mother cried,

" Your uncle's very cross ;
But, bless me! here are visitors,

Good morning, Mr Horse.
“My worthy neighbor, Billy Goat,

And Mrs Goose behind;
Come in, I'm glad to see you all ;

Now this is very kind.”
The uncle's prudent caution was.

It seems, of no avail;

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