6. A youth of sickly mien

Followed in thoughtful mood,

Whose heart was filled with love to God
And the early brotherhood;

Death felt he could not quench the heart
That lived for others' good:

"I own," cried he, "the power of love,
I must let it pass to the realms above!"

V. THE BLACKSMITH OF RAGENBACH.

1. IN the principality of Hohenlohe, now a part of the Kingdom of Wirtemberg, is a village called Ragenbach, where, about twenty years ago, the following event took place: one afternoon in early autumn, in the tavern-room of Ragenbach, several men and women, assembled from the village, sat at their ease. The smith formed one of the merry company-he was a strong, man, with resolute countenance and daring mien, but with such a good-natured smile on his lips that every one who saw him admired him. His arms were like bars of iron and his fist like a forge-hammer, so that few could equal him in strength of body.

2. The smith sat near the door chatting with one of his neighbors, when all at once the door opened, and a dog came staggering into the room, a great, powerful beast, with a frightful aspect; his head hanging down, his eyes bloodshot, his lead-colored tongue half way out of his mouth, and his tail dropped between his legs. Thus the ferocious beast entered the room, out of which there was no escape but by one door. Scarcely had the smith's neighbor, who was bath-keeper of the place, seen the animal, than he became deadly pale, sprang up and exclaimed, in a horrified voice, "Good heavens! the dog is mad!"

3. Then rose a terrible outcry. The room was full of men and women, and the foaming beast stood before the only entrance: no one could leave without passing him. He snapped savagely right and left: no one could pass him

without being bitten. This increased the fearful confusion. With horror depicted upon their countenances, all sprang up and shrunk from the dog. Who should deliver them from him? The smith also stood among them, and, as he saw the anguish of the people, it flashed across his mind how many of his happy and contented neighbors would be made. miserable by a mad dog, and he formed a resolution, the like of which is scarcely to be found in the history of the human race, for noble self-devotion.

4. "Back all!" thundered he, in a deep, strong voice Let no one stir, for none can vanquish the beast but me! One victim must fall, in order to save the rest; I will be that victim: I will hold the brute, and while I do so, make y escape." The smith had scarcely spoken these words when the dog started toward the shrieking people. But he went not far. "With God's help," cried the smith, and he rushed upon the foaming beast, seized him with an iron grasp, and dashed him to the floor. A terrible struggle followed. The dog bit furiously on every side in a frightful manner. His long teeth tore the arms and thighs of the heroic smith, but he would not let him loose. Regardless alike of the excessive pain and the horrible death which must ensue, he held down with an iron grasp, the snapping, howling brute, till all had escaped.

5. He then flung the half-strangled beast from him against the wall, and dripping with blood and venomous foam he left the room, locking the door after him. Some persons then shot the dog through the windows. Weeping and lamenting, the people surrounded him who had saved their lives, at the expense of his own. "Be quiet, do not weep for me," he said, "one must die in order to save the thers. Do not thank me-I have only performed my duty. When I am dead, think of me with love, and now pray for me, that God will not let me suffer long, nor too much. I will take care that no further mischief shall occur through me, for I must certainly become mad."

6. He went straight to his workshop and selected a strong chain, the heaviest and firmest from his whole stock; then, with his own hands, welded it upon his limbs, and around

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the anvil firmly. "There," said he, "it is done," after having silently and solemnly completed the work.

you are secured, and I am inoffensive.

"Now

So long as I live

me my food. The rest I leave to God; into his hands I commend my spirit." Nothing could save the

bring

nor prayers.

MadHe died, but Search history his memory will live from generation to generation, an will be venerated to the end of time. through, and you will not find an action more glorious an sublime than the deed of this simple-minded man-th

brave smith, neither tears, lamentations ness seized him, and after nine days he died.

smith of Ragenbach.

VI. THE LIFE-BOAT.

1. QUICK! man the life-boat! See yon bark
That drives before the blast!

There's a rock a-head, the right is dark,
And the storm comes trick and fast.

Can human power in such an hour,
Avert the doom that's o'er her?

Her mainmast's gone, but she still drives on
To the fatal reef before her.

The life-boat! Man the life-boat!

2. Quick! man the life-boat! hark! the gun
Booms through the vapory air;
And see the signal flags are on,
And speak the ship's despair.
That forked flash, that pealing crash,
Scemed from the wave to sweep her:
She's on the rock, with a terrible shock,
And the wail comes louder and deeper.
The life-boat! Man the life-boat!

3 Quick! man the life-boat! Sec-the crew
Gaze on their watery grave:
Already, some, a gallant few,

Are battling with the wave;

And one there stands, and wrings his hands,

As thoughts of home come o'er him;

For his wife and child, through the tempest wild,

He sees on the hights before him.

4. Speed, speed the life-boat! Off she goes!
And, as they pulled the oar,
From shore and ship a cheer arose,
That rang from ship to shore.
Life-saving ark! yon fated bark

Has human lives within her;

And dearer than gold is the wealth untold,
Thou 'lt save, if thou canst win her.
On, life-boat! Speed thee, life-boat!

5. Hurrah! the life-boat dashes on,

Though darkly the reef may frown;
The rock is there-the ship is gone
Full twenty fathoms down.

But, cheered by hope, the seamen cope
With the billows single-handed:

They are all in the boat!--hurra! they're afloat !
And now they are safely landed

By the life-boat! Cheer the life-boat!

VII. THE MISER.

1. An old man sat by a fireless hearth,
Though the night was dark and chill,
And mournfully over the frozen earth
The wind sobbed loud and shrill.

His locks were gray, and his eyes were gray,
And dim, but not with tears;

And his skeleton form had wasted away
With penury, more than years.

2. A rush-light was casting its fitfui glare
O'er the damp and dingy walls,

Where the lizard hath made his slimy lair,
And the venomous spider crawls;

But the meanest thing in this lonesome room
Was the miser worn and bare,

Where he sat like a ghost in an empty tomb,
On his broken and only chair.