sweet and mournful scream, plunged the siren into the flood, as if a silvery beam from the rock had suddenly glittered over the stream. But the young men fled away, and only thought of saving their own lives. "What shall we do?" they exclaimed. "Shall we tell the palatine that his son found his death in the Rhine? And if we conceal it, a still worse suspicion falls on us; for it cannot remain seeret. So let us just say that he hired and forced us to bring him hither, pretending that his father had sent him to kill the mermaid; and that she bewitched him when he was taking up his weapon, which is all the truth."

When Hagbert opened his eyes, it seemed to him as if he had awoke in the midst of winter, and as if blue and green pieces of ice stood like giants around him; but a gentle spring breeze blew through the crevice of the rock, and sweetly fanned his cold cheeks. What the boy thought was cold ice was quartz and transparent crystal; and the breeze was Loreley's breath, which played around him like the sighing wave. Forests of rushes and other aquatic plants rustled around the cave; and through the crystal walls resounded, incessantly, sweet sounds, as if the waves were sighing their love to one another.

In this deep world, Hagbert found himself alone with the beautiful mermaid; but he could not feel comforted here in the midst of those frightful wonders; and soon he longed, almost more impatiently than he had formerly done to throw himself into the water, to see again the light of the day, as if it were only there that he could rejoice in the sight of the beautiful fairy, and exchange love for love. He said to her, when she threw around him her silver-white arms, and when her ringlets floated around him like the waves of the stream,

ing," said Loreley; "but the sky does not shut his eyes for so long a time; do you see how they glance down upon us?" And again the wild floods rushed around Hagbert. "Let not your foot glide!" said Loreley; "come, sit down here, close by my side, till the sun rises."

A white cliff glittered in the pale light before Hagbert; but it seemed to be assailed by agitated waters, which heaved to and fro among huge, mountain-like forms, and threatened also the spot where he stood in the silent night. "Where are we?" inquired Hagbert, and felt, not without a shudder, Loreley's arms surrounding him.

"We are in the midst of the Rhine," said the maid. "These are the ancient children of the giants, the mountains; we are seated on the toe of one of them; and it is so long that he stretches out like an angle for the ships which so merrily go up and down the Rhine. He draws them down at the stone yonder; and yonder where I look to, up the river, the wrecks appear again; but no living being ever reappears there; they have all been swallowed-swallowed."

At the opposite side, a small light now appeared; it was a lamp before an altar in the church of St. Clement on the opposite shore. The feeble glimmer glided slowly through the country, throwing here and there a beam; and Hagbert thought he could discern the Mauserthurm quite near; and before and behind him, upon the heights, he saw some well-known castles.

"Do you know," said Loreley, as if she had perceived his distrusting fears, “I have been leading you up the stream? the waters were carrying you down. There my kinsmen would never have let you out again from the crystal castle; but you shall remain mine. For you I left the beautiful castle; all my longing was for you."

"Loreley," exclaimed Hagbert, and as he glanced on her countenance, her flowing ringlets, in the night breeze, looked again so beautiful, with the light from beyond the river falling upon them,

they say you rejoice there above, upon yon rock, when your wild river draws a man down."

Loreley sighed and said, "It may be so, dear youth; I did not know better. I thought it must give pleasure to all to sport with us, and to get fresh and cool in our resounding, transparent world."

They also say," replied Hagbert, "that you allure the children of men with your sweet song."

"I do not care at all for the children of men," said Loreley, peevishly. "For my pleasure I sung; for my pleasure I gazed. I called none, and looked for none. If any one thought that I called for him, it sometimes amused me, and I had my sport with them without thinking of it. But now, alas! all is changed; no sport will any more rejoice me. It is you I have chosen; it is you whom I will draw down into the deep, - you whom I will follow through the world; for I am yours, and you are mine. When you approached with bow and arrow, I felt as if I wished to be a roe, and to have your arrow in my heart, and to fly before you till I had drawn you to the highest top of the rock, where you should have been alone with me."

From near and far, now flamed up the first morning light over the white rocks. Their tops glittered in the first dawning of the morning, whilst below them the two lovers were still seated. Hagbert held the beautiful maid in his arms; she leaned her head upon his breast; but when the cocks began to crow at the shore, she started up and said,

I must go. There, where you have found me, you will find me again at evening time. Do not forget.' She then threw a stone into the water, which became troubled, boiled, gushed up, and a small boat appeared working its way to the surface. 66 Leap into it," exclaimed Loreley. "One of the boards was broken in sinking; take it up and make use of it for an oar, and row to the shore. Farewell, Hagbert!"

With these words she plunged down, and Hagbert, now in the boat, saw her no longer; but below him there sounded a murmuring voice "Loreley-Loreley!" till it seemed as if tears at last stified the longing sound.

-

The frail boat carried Hagbert with as

much security over the dangerous spot as if a careless, playful child had been intrusted to its care; and he reached the shore to the right, where castle Ehrenfels glittered in the morning glow over the merry vines. In the morning beam, Hagbert awoke gradually from the dreams of the night; he was astonished, and knew not how he felt. Doubt and sweet mystery, desire and horror, struggled in him. Loreley's countenance appeared before him, such as it had smiled upon him in the light of the lamp from the church; and it seemed to him as if he should have placed her in the full glare of that light, and all fear would have fled. Then he thought again how the crowing of the cock had frightened her away; and he felt as if a ghost had been seated near him in the horrors of the night, and wondered that his adventure had not cost him his life.

He went to the nearest cottage of a vine-dresser, and begged for a warm drink. His clothes were damp, and he left them in the cottage, and put on the jacket of one of the boys. He knew not whether, if he should return to Stahleek, he might hope, as his life had been miraculously preserved, that the anger of his father would be softened; and then he hoped to obtain the interest of his mother and sister for the fair Loreley, and that they might intercede for her with his father. Again, midst his secret shuddering, the wish awoke in him to fly to the maid of the rock, and to live for her alone; and again fear overcame his longings. Thus he spent a part of the morning musing upon the shore, till at last he bethought himself it would be best to go straight to Stahleek; otherwise, the maid might come into danger before he could prevent it. He felt more and more anxious, the nearer he approached the castle of his father. He mounted the steps in the rock, which led a nearer way to a small gate; but, in seizing the knocker, he perceived he had lost a little ring which he always wore on his left hand; and he thought the mermaid might have taken it secretly from his finger to bind him forever to her.

Night came on. The pfalzgraf, in

formed of the death of his son, sent Ruthard with a troop of soldiers to catch Loreley, dead or alive. Ruthard had begged hard to be intrusted with this commission. Loreley stood on the top of the rock, when the fierce-looking men came down the dark flood. She gazed up the river, wondering that Hagbert did not come, and called aloud, as she was wont, "Loreley-Loreley!" Then Ruthard cried mockingly to her,

"We bring to thee the greetings of your love Hagbert. He sends by us a kiss to his bride, with which he weds thee; come down to us to get it, or tell us how to come up to thee without flying. Oh, thou fair and wild Loreley, here is new booty for thee! Dost thou not choose to catch it as thou hast caught Hagbert?"

Loreley lifted her snow-white hand. She pointed with her finger here and there, and showed them how they might climb up the rock; for she thought that they came in peace, and that they surely brought to her Hagbert's greetings. Many of them warned the rash Ruthard; but he laughed at their fears; and two of his savage menials climbed up the rock with him.

"Bind her!" called he out, when they had gained the rock.

"What do you intend?" exclaimed Loreley.

"Thou must die! Down with thee to the Rhine, thou witch!" said Ruthard. "Thou must die, siren that thou art, who hast killed the beautiful Hagbert!

"Hagbert!" exclaimed Loreley, in a melting voice. "Come hither, Hagbert! I am no witch; I am Hagbert's love, his true love."

--

But Ruthard laughed in mockery, and said, "Will you not also bring a priest that he may convert the witch? Although Hagbert were yet living, Loreley must die for having seduced him."

But Loreley looked with new courage upon the man, as he flew away at full speed upon his foaming horse, and said, "Do you wish to throw me into the Rhine? That I can do better myself. Here, before your eyes, I will leap into it."

But Ruthard got her fettered, and a heavy stone was brought, whilst the cruel knight shook his glittering sword above her swan-white neck.

A swift boat now came through the waves bearing to the edge of the rock the friendly soldier who had ridden to Stahleek.

"Loreley," called he up to her, "give back the little ring you have taken from the palatine's son, and your life shall be saved; thus the palatine spoke."

"I have no ring of his," said Loreley, lamenting; "he had none on his hand to give me. Hagbert, alas! Hagbert, why dost thou not come? Drag me to him in chains, and he will loose them."

"Do you see? she will not yield up the ring," replied Ruthard, spitefully.

Then Loreley wept, like the imploring deer, when the harsh, savage huntsman stands before it; and many of those who stood below wept with her; for Ruthard had no mercy. He granted her no res pite; he hung the heavy stone at her neck, and the murderers approached.

66

But Loreley looked on them, and said, My love has betrayed me; no one shall ever see me more."

Once more she glanced up the river, and leaned over as if she wished to see castle Stahleek; she then stepped to the edge of the rock and leaped down.

As if changed into stone, Ruthard and his two bloodthirsty companions gazed after her. They could not find the way down again; and thus they died a miserable death. But Hagbert was inconsolable, when he heard the news of Loreley.

The following day, a man from Oberwesel brought a net of large, fine fish to the castle; and when they were about to prepare them in the kitchen, they found under the tongue of one of them the ring which the youth had lost, and which, doubtless, had fallen from his finger when

the flood drew him down.

Hagbert often rowed up and down the Rhine; but Loreley's lovely form and her fair countenance he never saw again. Yet her voice was often heard; she sung no longer, but she answered when called to; and then it seemed as if she wept and sighed deeply, and would have said, had she spoken,

"Why do you throw away your words upon me, and invite me to play as I formerly did? It is no longer Hagbert's voice. I have lost him, lost."

When Hagbert called to her, she answered his words like an echo; but he could not bear the sound. Once he pressed his sister Wana to his breast, who mournfully stood beside him, threw the ring into the Rhine, and listened through the sound of oars toward the rock; but his sister kept him back, when he longed to fling himself down into the wild river.

From the day on which he threw the rich ring into the Rhine, near the rock which still bears the name of the mermaid, Hagbert declined in health, as if something was gnawing at his heart; and like the sound of the bugle-horn at the Loreley, his young life died away in the longings of love.

I WAS MISTAKEN. - A lively writer has said, "I was mistaken' are the three hardest words to pronounce in the English language." Yet it seems but acknowledging that we are wiser than we I were before to see our error, and humbler than we were before to own it. But so it is; and Goldsmith observes that Frederic the Great did himself more honor by his letter to the Senate, stating that he had just lost a great battle by his own fault, than by all the victories he had won. Perhaps our greatest perfection here is not to escape imperfections, but to see and acknowledge and lament and correct them. Jay.

Sixteen thousands, in numbers good,
By breast works sheltered, the rebels stood,
When our little army of barely five,
Footsore, weary, but all alive,
Without a waver or bated breath,
Marched boldly up to the jaws of death,
At Olustee !

The sun rode high in the heavens that day,

As our brave boys entered the deadly fray;

The round moon rose in the dusky east,
And with rolling cheers, our heroes beat,
Ere the battle ended, the carnage ceased,
In gallant order, a slow retreat,

From Olustee !

Oh, dearly the rebels bought the day!
Piled in their trenches the graybacks lay!
Three to one of our boys they fell,
Though grape and canister, shot and shell,
Poured into our ranks to be only met
By well-aimed rifle and bayonet,

At Olustee !

Honor and fame to those bold brigades,
And their dead who sleep in the tropic shades,
Where they fought so bravely, so grandly fell!
Crown them, O Country they loved so well!-
Crown them with laurels ; for earth holds not
Braver and better than they who fought

At Olustee !

I DREAMED BUT NOW.
[After the German.]
By Mrs. Helen Rich.

I DREAMED but now my soul had laid

Aside its robes of flesh forever;

In darkness drear and lone I strayed,
To see the sunshine never, never.

Ah! thus, dear heart, without the light
And life of thy dear love to bless me,
The future would be doubly night,
Nor joy nor thou, love, to caress me.

DREN.

By Minnie S. Davis,

In the theological world, the Beechers shine as stars of great magnitude and brilliancy, but all with eccentric orbits. Eminent for genius and culture, and distinguished for bold and ardent philanthropy, they present the thrilling spectacle of noble minds struggling, as only such spirits can, to throw off the shackles imposed by dogmas, mystical, cruel, or absurd. They are ever in revolt, yet hold allegiance to that which they oppose; for slavery has no chains so fine and strong, so indissolubly linked, as those which religious opinion artfully meshes and throws like a network around the conscience and the will.

One, seeing a mighty stumbling-block in his way, seeks to remove it by finding its roots in a pre-existent world. Another, rejecting his brother's theory, makes war upon the same obstacle, valiantly striving to dismember it from the theological tree, as though it were but an unlovely excrescence there.

One without a head for theology, leaving the sharp points and knotty problems for his brother divines to eliminate, as though almost persuaded to believe God the Father and Jesus the Saviour of the whole world, with clarion voice pours from his big, throbbing heart a flood-tide of eloquence, which sways the multitude and lifts them above sordid cares electric with love and hope and prophecy! and still another tells the story of her girlish struggles and mental anguish in words that stir alike our indignation and our pity.

The sentiment of the religious world in regard to the Beechers is very conflicting. One party looks upon their heretical tendencies with extreme uneasiness and pain; another does not hesitate to avow its unqualified displeasure; some wink at their inconsistencies, and are proud to claim them; while a large and growing party delight in their liberalism and follow them as leaders.

Of the Unitarians and Universalists, the Beechers evidently know little and

find their truest admirers, warmest friends, and those who could best understand the nature of their struggles and excuse their inconsistencies. We behold them in the very heart of the citadel, undermining evils which we can only attack through the guarded outposts. Thus, through different means and in divers paths, they are laboring for ends similar to ours. Therefore we hail them from afar, as co-workers, though they know it not, and might not own it if they knew.

But I have made a long digression from my subject; namely, Miss Beecher's new book upon the "Religious Education of Children, in the School, the Family, and the Church."

I felt a lively curiosity concerning this book, and embraced the first opportunity for its perusal. I was deeply interested in it, and better satisfied with it than with any previous work of that lady. In her usual clear and vigorous style, she commences with an earnestness and directness which proves real heart interest in her work.

She commences by stating that reason and observation teach us that the Creator designs, "not only the good of his creatures, but their best good."

Then it follows that "religious training includes all those modes by which children are led to understand and obey the laws of God for securing the best good of all, as they are discovered by reason, by experience, and the Bible."

From these rational premises, she proceeds to develop her subject.

She says, "The term religious is often used in a more limited sense, as relating only to God and his worship, while that part of religion which includes duties to self and to our fellow-beings is called morals. While this limited use of the term is legitimate, none will deny that the more comprehensive is equally so."

Miss Beecher's views in regard to family training are not extravagant in any direction, but such as a person of a clear head, kind heart, and long experience would naturally express. She illustrates various modes, and shows the advantages of a "strong and steady" method of gov