The memory of that prayer made the singer more tender-hearted, and she, who was the idol of England's nobility, went about doing good. And in her early, happy death, he who stood beside her bed and smoothed her pillow, and lightened her last moments by his undying affection, was little Pierre of former days, now rich, accomplished, and the most talented composer of the day. O singer of the heart, The heart that never dies! The Lord's interpreter thou art, His angel from the skies. Thy work on earth is great As his who saves a soul, Or his who guides the ship of state, When mountain-billows roll. The life of Heaven comes down In gleams of grace and truth; Sad mortals see the shining crown Of sweet, perennial youth. The life of God, in song Becomes the life of man; Ashamed is he of sin and wrong Who hears a Malibran! * * * * * X. GARFIELD.--MAXIMS. GATHERED FROM HIS SPEECHES, ADDRESSES, LETTERS, ETC. I would rather be beaten in right than succeed in wrong. I feel a profounder reverence for a boy than for a man. I never meet a ragged boy in the street without feeling that I may owe him a salute, for I know not what possibilities may be buttoned under his coat. Poverty is uncomfortable, as I can testify; but, nine times out of ten, the best thing that can happen to a young man is to be tossed overboard and compelled to sink or swim for himself. In all my acquaintance, I never knew a man to be drowned who was worth the saving. If the power to do hard work is not talent, it is the best possible substitute for it. We can not study nature profoundly without bringing ourselves into communion with the spirit of art which pervades and fills the universe. If there be one thing upon this earth that mankind love and admire better than another, it is a brave man; it is a man who dares to look the devil in the face and tell him he is a devil. It is one of the precious mysteries of sorrow that it finds solace in unselfish thought. Every character is the joint product of nature and nurture. It has been fortunate that most of our greatest men have left no descendants to shine in the borrowed luster of a great name. An uncertain currency, that goes up and down, hits the laborer, and hits him hard. It helps him last and hurts him first. We no longer attribute the untimely death of infants to the sin of Adam, but to bad nursing and ignorance. The granite hills are not so changeless and abiding as the restless sea. In their struggle with the forces of nature, the ability to labor was the richest patrimony of the colonists. Coercion is the basis of every law in the universe--human or divine. A law is no law without coercion behind it. For the noblest man who lives there still remains a conflict.