Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,

And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest;

Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.

Th' applause of listening senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,

And read their history in a nation's eyes,

Their lot forbade, nor circumscribed alone

Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride

With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.

Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray.
Along the cool, sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect,
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

Their names, their years, spelt by th' unlettered Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply;

And many a holy text around she strews,

That teach the rustic moralist to die.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?

On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonored dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate,
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,

Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
"Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn,
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

"There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

"Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies, would he rove,
Now drooping, woful wan, like one forlorn,

Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.

"One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favorite tree: Another came, nor yet beside the rill,

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:

"The next, with dirges due, in sad array,

Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne.

THE CONVERSATION OF AN EDUCATED MAN.

WHAT is that which first strikes us, and strikes us

at once, in an educated man; and which, among men of education, so instantly distinguishes the man of superior mind, that (as was observed with eminent propriety of the late Edmund Burke) "we cannot stand under the same archway during a shower of rain without finding him out"?

Not the weight or novelty of his remarks; not any unusual interest of facts communicated by him; for we may suppose both the one and the other precluded by the shortness of our intercourse and the triviality of the subjects. The difference will be impressed and felt, though the conversation should be confined to the state of the weather or the pavement.

Still less will it arise from any peculiarity in his words and phrases. For, if he be, as we now assume, a well-educated man, as well as a man of superior powers, he will not fail to follow the golden rule of Julius Cæsar, "Avoid an unusual word as you would a rock," unless where new things necessitate new terms. must have been among the earliest lessons of his youth that the breach of this precept, at all times hazardous, becomes ridiculous in the topics of ordinary conversa tion.

It

There remains but one other point of distinction possible; and this must be, and in fact is, the cause of the impression made on us. It is the unpremeditated and evidently habitual arrangement of his words, grounded on the habit of foreseeing, in each integral part, or, more plainly, in every sentence, the whole that he then intends to communicate. However irregular and desultory his talk, there is method in the fragments.

Listen, on the other hand, to an ignorant man, though perhaps shrewd and able in his particular calling, whether he be describing or relating. We immediately perceive that his memory alone is called into action; and that the objects and events recur in the narration in the same order, and with the same accompaniments, however accidental or impertinent, as they had first occurred to the narrator.

The necessity of taking breath, the efforts of recollection, and the rectification of its failures, produce all his pauses; and with exception of the " and then," the "and there," and the still less significant "and so," they constitute likewise all his connections.

Questions: What is said of Edmund Burke? What is it to "preclude"? What is meant by "a man of superior powers"? Name six men who had superior powers. What is an integral part? Name Some integral parts of this school. Of this Reader. Of the church we go to for holy Mass. What is "desultory talk"? Show from a familiar example how I could use my memory and throw aside my judgment. How may we rectify failures? How should a child rectify failures in duty to parents or teachers?

L

MOTHER SETON.

O! the hosts of valiant women!

Lo! the legions, brave and strong,
That have", come up from the desert"

In a grand, immortal throng;

That have fought, with hearts undaunted,
'Gainst a fierce and hydra foe,