Shook like a quivering aspen leaf,
And his colour went and came.

"He marched by my side for seven days, Most patient of our band; And night and day he ever kept

Our standard in his hand.

"They fought with us like tigers,
Before that fort of mud;

And all around the burning sands
Were as a marsh with blood.

"We watched that young man,-he to us
Was as a kindling hope;
We saw him pressing on and on,
Bearing the standard up.

"At length it for a moment veered-
A ball had struck his hand,

But he seized the banner with his left,
Without a moment's stand.

"He mounted upward to the wall; He waved the standard high,But then another smote him!

And the captain standing by.

"Said, Of this gallant youth take care,
He hath won for us the day!'
I and my comrades took him up,
And bore him thence away.

"There was no tree about the place,
So 'neath the fortress shade

We carried him, and carefully
Upon the red sand laid.

"I took the feather from my cap,
To fan his burning cheek;
I gave him water, drop by drop,
And prayed that he would speak.

"At length he said, 'mine hour is come! My soldier-name is bright;

But a pang there is within my soul,
That hath wrung me day and night:

"I left my mother's home without
Her blessing;-she doth mourn,
Doth weep for me with bitter tears,—
I never can return!

"This bowed my eagle-spirit down, This robbed mine eye of rest;

I left her widowed and alone:

Oh that I had been blessed!'

"No more he said, he closed his eyes, And yet he died not then ;

He lived till the morrow morning came, But he never spoke again."

This tale the veteran soldier told,
Upon a summer's day ;-

The boys came merrily down the street,
But they all went sad away.

13*

SELFISHNESS CORRECTED.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

But

Henrietta. Why, mama, you do not say a word. I have brought home the prizes for music, drawing, and history, To-day I have had the pleasure of seeing my school-mates humiliated, while I was crowned with flowers. you do not answer, dear mama; generally you have the kindness to encourage me. To-day I have gained a brilliant triumph, yet you do not say you are pleased.

Mother. No one can admire talents more than I do, but when they usurp the place of virtues, their display makes me sad, rather than joyful.

Henrietta. Are the virtues effaced in me, mama?

Mother. Sometimes it grieves me to perceive that your pleasure is increased, when it becomes the cause of pain to others.

Henrietta. But, mama, ought I not to glory in deserving the commendation of my teachers, and making it pleasant for them to instruct me?

Mother. The instruction you receive has a

more noble end than to fill you with vanity and ostentation.

Henrietta. What is that end, mama?

Mother. It is to elevate and ennoble your mind, by enabling you to appreciate more fully the power, wisdom, and benevolence of God. It opens many innocent sources of pleasure, and renders you useful to your fellow creatures.

Henrietta. You always think for others,

mama.

Mother. And Henrietta never thinks for herself.

Henrietta. How would you have me do it, mama?

Mother. Of all the means which surround you, reasoning for yourself is the best way of attaining happiness.

Henrietta. I cannot do it, mama.

Mother. Because you are selfish.

Henrietta. Selfish! that is a mean fault. I would gladly get rid of it.

Mother. That is very easy, if you really desire it. Forget a certain little personage named Henrietta.

Henrietta. That is difficult, mama.

Mother. Try to promote the happiness of others, and you will increase your own a thousand fold.