1.  Good people all, with one accord,
     Lament for Madam Blaize,
   Who never wanted a good word—­
     From those who spoke her praise.

2.  The needy seldom passed her door,
     And always found her kind;
   She freely lent to all the poor—­
     Who left a pledge behind.

3.  She strove the neighborhood to please,
     With manner wondrous winning: 
   She never followed wicked ways—­
     Unless when she was sinning.

4.  At church, in silks and satin new,
     With hoop of monstrous size,
   She never slumbered in her pew—­
     But when she shut her eyes.

5.  Her love was sought, I do aver,
     By twenty beaux and more;
   The king himself has followed her
     When she has walked before.

6.  But now, her wealth and finery fled,
     Her hangers-on cut short all,
   Her doctors found, when she was dead—­
     Her last disorder mortal.

7.  Let us lament, in sorrow sore;
     For Kent Street well may say,
   That, had she lived a twelvemonth more—­
     She had not died to-day.

Definitions.—­1.  Ac-cord’, agreement of opinion, consent. 2.  Pledge, personal property delivered to another as a security for a debt. 6.  Hang’ers-on, followers.  Mor’tal, destructive to life.

XXIII.  KING CHARLES II AND WILLIAM PENN.

King Charles.  Well, friend William!  I have sold you a noble province in North America; but still, I suppose you have no thoughts of going thither yourself?

Penn.  Yes, I have, I assure thee, friend Charles; and I am just come to bid thee farewell.

K.C.  What! venture yourself among the savages of North America!  Why, man, what security have you that you will not be in their war kettle in two hours after setting foot on their shores?

P. The best security in the world.

K.C.  I doubt that, friend William; I have no idea of any security against those cannibals but in a regiment of good soldiers, with their muskets and bayonets.  And mind, I tell you beforehand, that, with all my good will for you and your family, to whom I am under obligations, I will not send a single soldier with you.

P. I want none of thy soldiers, Charles:  I depend on something better than thy soldiers.

K.C.  Ah! what may that be?

P. Why, I depend upon themselves; on the working of their own hearts; on their notions of justice; on their moral sense.

K.C.  A fine thing, this same moral sense, no doubt; but I fear you will not find much of it among the Indians of North America.

P. And why not among them as well as others?

K.C.  Because if they had possessed any, they would not have treated my subjects so barbarously as they have done.