THE ADOPTED SISTER.

UGENIA PERRAULT, a pretty little girl of seven years old, was coming home from school, with her basket on her arm. It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and the weather was severely cold. Passing by a new building, she encountered a little girl of about her own age, who appeared half dead with cold. "Miss," said she, "have you a little piece of bread to give me? I am very hungry."

"Yes, indeed," replied Eugenia, "here is some; but, your clothes are all damp."

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Yes, I have been standing here a long time; my father brought me here from the country, and told me to wait for him a little while; but, he has gone away and left me."

"Have you no mother?"

"She is dead."

"Have you any brothers and sisters?"

"Yes; there are seven of us."

"Well, then, come with me; I have a good mother; she will give you food to eat, and a bed to sleep in, and you shall be my sister;" and, taking the little stranger by the hand, Eugenia led her to her own home, saying: "Mamma, here is a poor little girl, whose father has forsaken her. You will keep her, will you not? You know, in the fable of the forsaken child, the good God says he will bless those who are kind to the unhappy; and he will bless you."

According to Eugenia's entreaties, the orphan was taken in by her parents, and treated as their own child.

Eugenia's father was an honest laborious founder.

A young princess being informed of this charming trait, sent the interesting Eugenia a valuable testimonial of her approbation.

COLLOQUIAL POWERS OF DR. FRANKLIN.

COLLOQUIAL POWERS OF DR. FRANKLIN.

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Never have I known such a fireside companion as he was! Great as he was, both as a statesman and a philosopher, he never shone in a light more winning than when he was seen in a domestic circle. It was once my good fortune to pass two or three weeks with him, at the house of a private gentleman, in the back part of Pennsylvania; and we were confined to the house during the whole of that time, by the unintermitting constancy and depth of the snows. But confinement could never be felt where Franklin was an inmate. His cheerfulness and his colloquial powers spread around him a perpetual spring. When I speak, however, of his colloquial powers, I do not mean to awaken any notion analogous to that which Boswell has given us, when he so frequently mentions the colloquial powers of Dr. Johnson. The conversation of the latter continually reminds one of "the pomp and circumstance of glorious war." It was, indeed, a perpetual contest for victory, or an arbitrary and despotic exaction of homage to his superior talents. It was strong, acute, prompt, splendid and vociferous; as loud, stormy, and sublime, as those winds which he represents as shaking the Hebrides, and rocking the old castles that frowned upon the dark rolling sea beneath. But one gets tired of storms, however sublime they may be, and longs for the more orderly current of nature. Of Franklin no one ever became tired. There was no ambition of eloquence, no effort to shine, in anything which came from him. There was nothing which made any demand either upon your allegiance or your admiration.

His manner was as unaffected as infancy. It was nature's self. He talked like an old patriarch; and his plainness and simplicity put you, at once, at your ease, and gave you the full and free possession and use of all your faculties.

His thoughts were of a character to shine by their own. light, without any adventitious aid. They required only a

medium of vision like his pure and simple style, to exhibit, to the highest advantage, their native radiance and beauty. His cheerfulness was unremitting. It seemed to be as much the effect of the systematic and salutary exercise of the mind as of its superior organization. His wit was of the first order. It did not show itself merely in occasional coruscations; but, without any effort or force on his part, it shed a constant stream of the purest light over the whole of his discourse. Whether in the company of commons or nobles, he was always the same plain man; always most perfectly at his ease, his faculties in full play, and the full orbit of his genius for ever clear and unclouded. And then the stores of his mind were inexhaustible. He had commenced life with an attention so vigilant, that nothing had escaped his observation, and a judgment so solid, that every incident was turned to advantage. His youth had not been wasted in idleness, nor overcast by intemperance. He had been all his life a close and deep reader, as well as thinker; and, by the force of his own powers, had wrought up the raw materials, which he had gathered from books, with such exquisite skill and felicity, that he had added a hundred fold to their original value, and justly made them his own.

A TRUE KING.

When Dr. Franklin applied to the King of Prussia to lend his assistance to America, "Pray, Doctor," says the veteran, "what is the object you mean to attain ?" "Liberty, Sire," replied the philosopher, "liberty! that freedom which is the birthright of all men." The King, after a short pause, made this memorable answer: "I was born a prince, I am become a king, and I will not use the power I possess to the ruin of my own trade."