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nevolent disposition is shown in other ways, the only reward of lavishness is contempt, however, through self-interest, this feeling may be concealed.

With all Frederick's good qualities, he had one fault: he was satirical. And yet it is questionable whether he knew of this failing in himself; and, certainly, he little thought that anything he could say would be capable of giving a moment's pain to another. So he would occasionally be rattling away in his merry manner, and in the best possible humour with all around him, little thinking that a playful allusion, or a mimicked tone, had annoyed-perhaps even wounded—a friendly companion. When such a circumstance came to his knowledge, he would wonder how it could be, and would also express his sorrow. A page or two back we said, Never give way to anger. Let us now say, Never give way to satire. It is, at best, a dangerous propensity ; it is often a very unlovely one.

Boys are generally very fond of cricket; and the boys at Mr. --'s were no exception to this rule. Almost every week in summer, when the Salts were dry, they were permitted to scamper thither with their bats, stumps, and ball, and play out a good game or two; for the Salts made a capital cricket ground. It is not often that accidents happen at this game, and it is a healthy, strengthening exercise; but there is no employment, nor sport, nor labour, in this uncertain world, that is entirely free from danger.

“ Dangers stand thick through all the ground

To push us to the tomb,
And fierce diseases wait around

To hurry mortals home.

The year rolls round, and steals away

The breath that first it gave ;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,

We're travelling to the grave.”

Well would it be if schoolboys in their sports, as well as men in their daily callings, would remember this, and every day put up, in sincerity and truth, the prayer, “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom,” Psa. xc. 12.

There is danger even in a game at cricket. One day, when the sport was going on merrily—the boys with their jackets thrown aside, and full of eagerness to settle an equal-sided and well contested match—the ball was struck with all bis force, by the best and strongest batter in the school. “ Catch it, Frederick ; now then, Frederick, catch him out,” was shouted by two or three voices ; but the warning came too late. Frederick had turned his head on one side for a single instant, and lost sight of the ball, which was indeed speeding towards him. The next instant, the poor boy lay stretched on the ground without motion. He had been able neither to catch the ball, nor to move aside to give it free course; but received a blow full upon the breast which instantly felled him. In a minute the game was ended; and the players all ran to assist their young favourite, and to lead him home.

Frederick suffered much from this acci. dent so much that it was thought desirable he should return to his friends, and relinquish his studies until he should be recovered from its effects. Summer passed away, and so did autumn; and the Christmas holidays were over, and yet Frederick was missing. But at length, to

the great joy of his schoolfellows, he again made his appearance among them. He was greatly altered, for the injury he had received by the blow had been very serious, and the pain he had suffered had been very great. The bloom of health had left his cheek, and he was thin; but he had the same merry laugh as ever. The bad symptoms had disappeared; and it was hoped that no lasting effects would follow from the blow, although his breast was still tender, and his strength much exhausted.

Among the schoolfellows of Frederick, not one was so glad to see him as the youth who had so unintentionally been the occasion of his illness. He had been deeply grieved at the misfortune, and though the friends of Frederick, and his master, acquitted him of blame, he felt how sad a thing it would be if any evil

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