ime the happy emigrant arrived at his
destination, and he is now a thriving farmer, and a neighbor to him who
was his "friend in need, and a friend indeed."

DEFINITIONS.--1. Em'i-grate, to remove from one country or state to
another for the purpose of residence, to migrate. 2. Mi-rac'u-lous-ly, as
if by miracle, wonderfully. A-bil'i-ty, power, capability. 3.
Pre-dic'a-ment, condition, plight. 4. Pre-dom'i-nate, to prevail, to rule.
5. Lo'cate, to place. Des'ti-tute, needy, poor. 6. Des-ti-na'tion, end of
a journey. Thriv'ing, prosperous through industry, economy, and good
management.

XXII. AN ELEGY ON MADAM BLAIZE.

Oliver Goldsmith (b. 1728, d. 1774) was born at Pallas, or Pallasmore, in
the parish of Forney, Ireland. He received his education at several
schools, at Trinity College, Dublin, at Edinburgh, and at Leyden. He spent
some time in wandering over continental Europe, often in poverty and want.
In 1756 he became a resident of London, where he made the acquaintance of
several celebrated men, among whom were Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua
Reynolds. His writings are noted for their purity, grace, and fluency. His
fame as a poet is secured by "The Traveler," and "The Deserted Village;"
as a dramatist, by "She Stoops to Conquer;" and as a novelist, by "The
Vicar of Wakefield." His reckless extravagance always kept him in
financial difficulty, and he died heavily in debt. His monument is in
Westminster Abbey.

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.