strength, without this power of soul, is often cowardly and useless.

I will tell you a true story that I heard the other day, which will
show you what I mean. Somewhere in the State of Maine there is a
beautiful little lake, on the banks of which are a number of farms
and pleasant dwelling houses. There are boats on the lake, and the
people are in the habit of allowing the children to learn early the
management of a boat; girls and boys together are allowed to go out
on the lake, without any man to take charge of them. One day, a
little party went out. They had been rowing about for some time, and
gathering pond lilies, and waking up all the echoes in the
surrounding woods with loud shouts, merry laughs, and happy songs.
The children were in the middle of the lake, and were thinking of
returning, when, by some accident, one of the boys fell overboard. A
boy of fourteen years of age had the management of the boat; he was
the principal oarsman. He was strong and active, and could swim, but
he feared for his own life, and he immediately began to row for the
shore to get help. In the mean time, the poor boy, who could not
swim to the shore, and whose strength would be unequal to keep above
water till they returned with help, would have been drowned. There
were other boys in the boat, but it was a little girl, of ten years
of age, who, immediately forgetting her weakness, became their
leader and guide. She insisted that the boat should be turned back
again, that the poor boy should not be left. I know not if she
seized the oar, but if she did not, she prevailed with others to
turn the boat round and come back again to the poor boy, who, seeing
himself left by his companions, was giving himself up for lost. As
soon as they came up to him again, the brave little girl asked the
boy of fourteen years to keep the boat as steady as he could. Then
she reached over the side of the boat, and told her companions to