I need not be missed if my life has been bearing
(As its summer and autumn moved silently on)
The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its season;
I shall still be remembered by what I have done.

I need not be missed if another succeed me

To reap down those fields which in spring I have sown; He who plowed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper, He is only remembered by what he has done.

Not myself, but the truth that in life I have spoken

Not myself, but the seed that in life I have sown;

Shall pass on to ages-all about me forgotten,

Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done.

So let my living be, so be my dying;

So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown; Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remembered; Yes-but remembered by what I have done.

281. THE BELLS OF SHANDON.

FRANCIS MAHONY.

With deep affection and recollection,

I often think of those Shandon bells;
Whose sound so wild would in days of childhood
Fling round my cradle their magic spells.

On this I ponder where'er I wander,

And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee;
With thy bells of Shandon, that sound so grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee.

I've heard bells chimin' full many a clime in,
Tolling sublime in cathedral shrine,
While at glib rate brass tongues would vibrate;
But all their music spoke naught like thine;

For memory dwelling on each proud swelling
Of thy belfry knelling its bold notes free,
Made the bells of Shandon sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee.

I've heard bells tollin' old Adrian's Mole in,
Their thunder rollin' from the Vatican;
And cymbals glorious swinging uproarious,
In the gorgeous turrets of Notre Dame.

But thy sounds were sweeter than the dome of Peter
Flings o'er the Tiber, pealing solemnly.

Oh, the bells of Shandon sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee.

There's a bell in Moscow; while on tower and kiosk, O!
In St. Sophia the Turkman gets,

And loud in air calls me to prayer,

From the tapering summits of tall minarets.

Such empty phantom I freely grant them,

But there's an anthem more dear to me,

'Tis the bells of Shandon, that sound so grand on

The pleasant waters of the river Lee.

282.-GOOD MEMORY WORK

The favorite books of Tennyson were the Bible and Shakspeare. He once advised a boy to read daily at least one verse of the former and some lines from the latter. "The Bible," he said, "will teach you how to speak to God; Shakspeare will teach you how to speak to your fellows." It is well also to commit to memory many of these and other precious things, and thus make them our own in a way that the mere reading of them can never do,-learning and relearning, again and again, the masterpieces of literature, the immortal things, until they have become life of our life, and are of the very substance of our intellectual being.

To what extent should the child memorize? Of all people perhaps teachers are most to be congratulated upon the opportunities their work affords for good to themselves and others. The best thought, most suggestive and most helpful, of the choice spirits of the ages, in its finest expression, is theirs -if they will have it. But is anything more true of tens of thousands of teachers than that, in the midst of plenty, they starve their own souls and those of their pupils? Shall the memory be merely a sort of refuse chamber of odds and ends of personal experience, a junk shop collection of things of little value, or shall it be a treasure chamber filled with things of inestimable value, and radiant with light and beauty?

Let the habit of committing the best things to memory be formed early. Let it be continued through school days, and in all the after years of life. We shall thus become educated in a high and true sense-fed, for that is what the word really means, upon intellectual manna which might well be the food of angels. We shall thus be educated in the truest sense, because widely familiar with the very best prose and verse in the literature of the world, and quickly and gladly responsive to

the thought of the author. Not a few of these gems--" their price above rubies"—are short as to number of lines and оссиру but little space in print, as Abou Ben Adhem, Ozymandias, Crossing the Bar, and hundreds of others.

This habit once acquired and steadily followed is one of the most profitable and enjoyable that can be formed by quiet people who never have occasion to make a public address; while to teachers who must frequently address their schools, to school superintendents, clergymen, lawyers, and public speakers generally, it is of immense value. To exercise the memory in the manner suggested is to strengthen it and keep it strong. The imagination is cultivated, the vocabulary improved, and the best expression of the best thought of the masters becomes our own; just as the musician thoroughly at one with his art is what he is because of close sympathy with the tone-masters, and his knowledge both of the letter and spirit of the best things they have written.

How many teachers can repeat accurately a half dozen hymns or Psalms, or a dozen choice poems of moderate length which the world has taken to its heart, or a like number of fine things in prose? How many enjoy repeating these things to their pupils, and encourage them-imitating, it is hoped, a fairly good model—to learn and recite them in turn? Not in noisy declamation, but in such easy and natural manner as one friend of good taste would use in repeating to another something in literature which he enjoyed-the thought and the literary charm of the selection, and not noise or fancied stage effect, being the end in view. They are the finest of the wheat, and they remain when the chaff and saw-dust of non-essentials in arithmetic, grammar, geography, and other branches are utterly blown away. Securely garnered in the memory these things lift the life by lifting the thought, the love. They elevate the entire being into a finer and purer atmosphere, make distasteful things that are low and mean, and present day by day new ideals and new aspirations. Through them more and more we walk by faith in the unseen. And of all education—all feeding of mind and heart from childhood to old age-this is the rarest and the best.

Often a single poem made one's own in youth influences thought and character and affords gratification for a life-time. A few days since, a gentleman remarked in our hearing: "I thank the teacher who made me commit Bryant's Thanatopsis to memory. I didn't want to do it, but he compelled it. I have thanked him ever since, and much more as a man than

when a boy." It is quite possible for pupils to do fairly good work in the ordinary branches of school training, and yet have one or two things like this stand out above everything else, to be remembered for a life-time with gladness and gratitude. Is there not a suggestion here for the thoughtful teacher? If in the Hereafter we shall be held to account for sins of omission, as well as those of commission, what a record of lost and wasted opportunities will be that of the Teacher !

We like the practical thought of Tennyson, which makes much of this work all the while moral and religious. Let the selections for the week be two in number, the first, for a time at least, from the Bible-there being so much general ignorance of the Book-or from sacred or patriotic song; and the second from the world of literature, prose or verse, in other directions—say, the ninetieth psalm and Lincoln's Address at Gettysburg; or Lead, Kindly Light and Longfellow's Psalm of Life; or the twenty-third psalm and Lowell's Once to Every Man and Nation; or the nineteenth psalm and Home, Sweet Home; or My Country, 'tis of Thee and the Chambered Nautilus; or the thirteenth chapter of I. Corinthians, and the Relief of Lucknow ; or Abide with Me and Oh, Why Should the Spirit of Mortal be Proud? or Labor is Worship and Procrastination; or the Star Spangled Banner and Among My Books; or any others of hundreds of good things moral, religious, patriotic, descriptive, or sentimental in the best sense of the word, that we should all be very glad to have securely lodged in the memory. And let the teacher also commit to memory what is required of the pupil. This is the amount and kind of work that has been done in our own large school, and we have not found it too much; but should two each week seem one too many, let the selections alternate, sacred and secular, one each week, with frequent concert recitation by the school and by classes, to " deepen the grooves," and make the repetition of these things as easy as breathing. Whether much or little of this work is done depends upon the teacher, not upon the pupils. Our ability to do this work grows with the doing of it. Think what memory work is done by those who give performances upon the stage! To sing for a few moments often affords pleasant and profitable relief in many a school room. For the school to recite good things in con cert affords similar relief. This is possible in every school, whereas in many the teacher is unable either to sing or to direct the singing. Where singing is taught, such recitation as is here suggested adds still greater variety, profit, and enjoyment.

Any good book of varied and choice selections can and should be supplemented by the Bible, and by a manuscript collection of best things dictated by the teacher, and written down by the pupil. Memorize accurately, just as the author left it, the exact words he used, and each word in its place— "letter perfect. See the capital letters, the spelling, the unusual words, the punctuation marks; so far as possible, try to see the lines, the page projected, pictured before you, by the memory. This power grows with the effort to increase it. The work is definite, and requires care, close observation and thought, and encourages the habit of very close attention, one of the best results of wise school training.

The first great end of education is character. all agree.

In this we

The entire life of the school should have this end always in view. Thought determines life, and the best things that can be put into the mind of the growing boy or girl are good "thoughts that breathe and words that burn.' Let our days be so spent that our pupils may not be deaf and blind to these celestial visitants, but courteously "at home to each worthy thought that comes knocking at the door of their souls. "As if a man were the author of his own thoughts," says Macdonald in one of his happiest moods, "any more than of his own existence ! A man can but so live with the life given him that this or that kind of thoughts shall call on him, and to this or that kind he shall not be at home." The teacher can, with many a pupil, so influence taste and inclination that he or she shall be more and more "at home" to higher and better thought. But he should himself be what he would have his pupils become. He must love what they should be taught to love. The worthy teacher must always be a person ood to live with. The stronger, the truer, the more gener ous, the more courageous, the more energetic, the more enthusiastic, the more loving, the more noble-all the fine adjectives-the more wholesome is his influence. This finer training should be carried on through the daily life of the school; for nowhere can thought be more impressed by the steady impact, as it were, of soul upon soul. Thus virtue may pass from one to another, good be communicated, knowledge of truth and the feeling of duty implanted, their growth encouraged, and evil be driven out by the "expulsive power of a new affection."

And what other things will aid the teacher so much in this good work as the best poetry and the best prose, thought about, talked about, committed to memory, pondered in "the