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well-born of the land, honorable through long descent,
and the constancy with which themselves had adhered
to the faith of their fathers. They and their progeni-
tors had sealed their devotion to it, not always, per-
haps, in that physical martyrdom which rouses man-
hood, which is sustained by the countenance and
prayers of admiring and sympathizing friends, or the
proud consciousness that its firmness animates some
fainting brother; no! like those unheeded and unpitied
martyrs, who bleed and burn in the secret cells of the
heart, cut off from all earthly sources of sympathy and
consolation, they had endured in poverty and distress,
in contempt and obscurity; but still they failed not—
"Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified,

Their constancy they kept, their love, their zeal ;
Nor number nor example with them wrought,

To swerve from truth, or change their constant mind." And dear to them was the fair land they were to leave, with its hallowed associations, its old family recollections, its memorials of the friendship strong as death, that had suffered with them, often in spite of temptation or prejudice.

6. Above all, it was England with her white cliffs, her verdant meads, her "mossed trees that had outlived the eagle;" her ocean breezes, vocal with the language of Chaucer and Spenser, of Dryden and Shakespeare, and "all-accomplished Surrey;" the "royal throne of Alfred," and the sainted Edward; the nursing land of chivalry; of a third Edward

of a Black Prince, of the men of Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincourt, the Nevilles, the Chandos, the Staffords, the Cliffords, the Spencers, the Talbots-the men who sought the shock of nations as they did the fierce pastime of the tourney-who bowed in confession, and knelt at Mass, and received their incarnate God, sheathed in the armor that might coffin their corpses ere the sun went down; England, rich in monuments of the free jurisprudence of her early Catholic times the work of her Bractons, her Britons, her Fortescues; rich in the monuments of her old Catholic charity-her churches, before which modern imitation sits down abashed and despairing; her cities of colleges, whose scholars once were armies; richer in the virtue of her saints, her Beckets, 1er Mores, her Fishers, and the countless array whose ames, though unhonored on earth, are registered in the Book of Life, and whose blood pleads louder t, heaven than the prayers of her Sibthorpes and hr Spencers, for the return to Christian unity of the beautiful land it has made holy!

1 UTII-I-TA'-BI-AN-ISM, the doctrine that every thing is right which appears to be useful, irrespective of the teachings the Caurch.

XLVI. THE FEMALE MARTYR.

WHITTIER.

Mary Gaged eighteen, a

"Sister of Charity," died in one

of our Atlantic cities during the prevalence of the Asiatic cholera. while in voluntary attendance on the sick.

1. For thou wast one in whom the light
Of Heaven's own love was kindled well,
Enduring with a martyr's might,
Through every day and wakeful night,
Far more than words may tell :

Gentle, and meek, and lowly, and unknown -
Thy mercies measured by thy God alone!

2. Where many hearts were failing,-where
The throngful street grew foul with death,
O, high-souled martyr!-thou wast there
Inhaling from the loathsome air
Poison with every breath,

Yet shrinking not from offices of dread

For the wrung dying, and the unconscious dead

3. And, where the sickly taper shed

Its light through vapors, damp, confined,

A new Electra by the bed

Of suffering human-kind!

Pointing the spirit, in its dark dismay,
To that pure hope which fadeth not away.

4. Innocent teacher of the high

And holy mysteries of Heaven!

In mute and awful sympathy,

As thy low prayers were given;

And the o'erhovering Spoiler wore, the while
An angel's features-a deliverer's smile!

5. A blessed task! and worthy one
Who turning from the world, as thou,
Before life's pathway had begun
To leave its spring-time flower and sun,
Had sealed her early vow;

Giving to God her beauty and her youth,
Her pure affections and her guileless truth.

6. Earth may not claim thee. Nothing here Could be for thee a meet reward;

Thine is a treasure far more dear

Eye hath not seen it, nor the ear

Of living mortal heard,—

The joys prepared -the promised bliss aboveThe holy presence of Eternal Love!

7. Sleep on in peace. The earth has not

A nobler name than thine shall be.

The deeds by martial manhood wrought,

The lofty energies of thought,

The fire of poesy

These have but frail and fading honors;-thine Shall Time unto Eternity consign.

8. Yea, and when thrones shall crumble down,

And human pride and grandeur fall,—
The herald's line of long renown

The miter and the kingly crown—
Perishing glories all!

The pure devotion of thy generous heart
Shall live in Heaven, of which it was a part.

XLVII.-MOUNTAINS.

WILLIAM HOWIT.

1. Thanks be to God for mountains! The variety which they impart to the glorious bosom of our planet were no small advantage; the beauty which they spread out to our vision in their woods and waters; their crags and slopes, their clouds and atmospheric hues, were a splended gift; the sublimity which they pour into our deepest souls from their majestic aspects; the poetry which breathes from their streams, and dells, and airy hights, from the sweet abodes, the garbs and manners of their inhabitants, the songs and legends which have awoke in them, were a proud heritage to imaginative minds; but what are all these when the thought comes, that without mountains the spirit of man must have bowed to the brutal and the base, and probably have sunk to the monotonous level of the unvaried plain?

2. When I turn my eyes upon the map of the world,

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