tivate this one faculty of your nature, which, above all others, distinguishes you from the brute creation. But I was going to observe, that persons who will not take the trouble to think to any purpose, are always weary, and uninterested, for this simple reason that having glanced slightly over many subjects without examining one, nothing is new to them, nothing is fresh and enlivening and full of interest to them, as it is to persons who have made use of their own minds."

Frederic now looked up into his mother's face with an expression of inquiry, for this very freshness and interest was what he was perpetually in search of; and he thought, as many foolish and mistaken persons do, that it was only to be found in a rapid succession of subjects, instead of inwhat is one of the grand secrets of human lifemaking the most of a few.

It was well for Henry Ashton, both as a present and a future good, that he was a thoughtful boy; for he could thus amuse himself with his own reflections, while such discussions as the above were going on between his mother and Frederic; and before they had arrived at any settled conclusion upon the subject at present under consideration, he had taken up the picture of a shepherdboy reclining on a grassy bank; and if his secret thoughts had been examined, it is more than probable he would have been convicted of a wish to be himself reclining on the banks of that flowing stream, while his peaceful flocks were grazing by his side, or wandering unheeded on the distant hills.

"I am constantly under the necessity of steer

ing between two difficulties," Mrs. Ashton was accustomed to say; "I have one son who thinks too much, or rather who mistakes musing for thinking, and another who will not think at all. Thus, while I do my utmost to engage the attention of the latter, the former is giving up his mind to some day-dream of his own, neither profitable to himself nor others; while, if I endeavor to interest him so as to excite him to useful action, the other has probably escaped from me altogether, and is either at the top of the cherry-tree over my head, or running races with his dog across a neighboring field. How clever," the good lady used to add, "must those people be, who keep schools, and manage all the young gentlemen at once, by the same rule, even to the number of eighty or a hundred! No wonder the march of intellect goes on so rapidly among us."

"You have not yet told us," said Henry Ashton, "what is true greatness, and I almost think I know."

"Let me hear your opinion, then,” said his mother, "and that may help me to a clearer explanation of my own."

"I think," said Henry, still gazing at the pictnre of the shepherd-boy, "that true greatness consists in living separate from the vulgar things, as well as the vanities of the world, and in thinking only of what is high, and beautiful, and sublime."

À loud laugh from Frederic Ashton put an end to his brother's explanation of true greatness.

"You have done it now, Henry," said he; "if you mean that true greatness consists in lying upon a bank all day, with one's eyes cast up to the

clouds, and never going home to eat one's dinner, or make one's self comfortable, no wonder there are so few people truly great. According to your notions, whatever they might be in mind, they would be little enough in body. Look here, Henry."

And the boy threw himself, as quick as lightning, upon the green lawn, in the attitude of the shepherd, and casting up his eyes, looked as solemn and as contemplative as it was possible for him to look under any circumstances. With a movement as rapid, he was again upon his feet, and, dashing his hand with what he considered a masterly stroke, upon that part of the picture where a warrior clad in armor was to be seen-" That's the fellow for me!" he exclaimed, while, retreating a few paces, and flourishing his father's walking-stick in the air, he put himself in the attitude of a warrior about to rush upon his foe.

Accustomed to this kind of bravado, Mrs. Ashton and Henry took little notice of a performance which had about as much to do with what to them was true greatness, as the death-blow of the pup pet has with the stroke by which a hero dies. "If, my dear Henry," said his mother, "the oc cupation of your shepherd is supposed to consist of mere musing, of that dreamy sort of meditation upon the blue sky and sailing clouds, which has no reference to anything upon this earth, or the duties which devolve upon us as its inhabitants, I must say that I think the result upon character and conduct, in such a case, would be far indeed removed from that which is truly great. But if, as in the case of Sir Isaac Newton, you suppose him

to be engaged in contemplating, with the eye of a philosopher, the great and glorious universe around him, not only with regard to its vastness and its beauty, but to the simple how and why of everything it contains, then I agree with you, that any one, though a shepherd, may still be a great man. Truly great, I suppose you mean," observed

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Henry.

"You mistake me there," replied his mother. "To be truly great, involves principles beyond the laws of matter, and which I should scarcely reckon under the head of philosophy, as that word is most frequently applied."

"But what did Sir Isaac Newton do? or what did he discover?" asked Frederic, "when he spent his time reclining upon a bank, with his eyes cast up to the clouds ?"

“I am not quite sure," replied his mother, "in what attitude he was placed, or upon what object his eyes were fixed, when the first idea of gravity, as the cause of the celestial motions, was presented to his mind; but it is said of him, that he was sitting alone in a garden, and that the fall of an apple to the ground was the cause of the first spark being applied to that train of ideas, reflections, and calculations, the results of which are described by his biographer, in speaking of one of his works, as being 'memorable, not only in the annals of one science, or one country, but such as will form an epoch in the history of the world, and will ever be regarded as the brightest page in the records of human reason.' Sir Isaac Newton, too, you may possibly remember, was at this time situated on a farm in Lincolnshire, where the daily

movements of the sun were often traced upon the humble walls and roofs of the buildings he frequented; while, by means of pins and lines, he indicated the hours and half hours of his rude dials; and though his ostensible employment was then tending cattle, and going to the market at Grantham, he was often found studying mathematics under a hedge, or gleaning fragments of science from old books, collected out of a garret to which he had access. Thus, therefore, we may say of Sir Isaac Newton, that he was great in what he accomplished, not only because his aims and objects were great, but because the difficulties were great which stood in his way; and he deserves a still higher tribute of praise, because he was also great in his simplicity."

"Great in his simplicity?" exclaimed Frederic. "That is more than I shall ever comprehend."

"My dear boy," replied his mother, "I hope you will understand this expression sometime, because it refers to one of those principles of which I have already spoken, as being essential to true greatness. There can never be real simplicity of heart, where there is not some degree of meekness; and the only meekness worthy the name of a virtue, consists in an habitual sense of the nothingness of the creature, compared with the Creator."

"I am beginning to understand you better," said Henry, looking more thoughtful than before; and while a blush, which his brother thought very ridiculous and unmanly, rose to his cheek, he drew from his portfolio a sheet of paper upon which he had scribbled some verses of his own, which he