9+ •••«• A u ^ ♦• 
 
 • %** : 
 
 
I--. 
 
 
 »-• * 
 
 * v % 
 
 ,0* .•*•♦, V .aT ..'••♦ 
 
 
 • 1 * 
 
 
PRACTICAL 
 
 READING LESSONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 THREE GREAT DUTIES ♦ 
 
 WHICH MAN OWES TO 
 
 HIS MAKER— HIS FELLOW BEINGS— AND 
 HIMSELF; 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS 
 
 INTERESTING HISTORICAL ANECDOTES, 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, &c. 
 
 INTENDED FOR THE 
 
 INSTRUCTION AND AMUSEMENT OF YOUTH, 
 
 'Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, 
 Leetorem deleetando, pariterque raonendo." 
 
 Horace. 
 
 E. L. CAREY & A. HART,— CHESTNUT STREET. 
 1830. 
 

 District of Maryland, to tvit : 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, that on this eighth day of June, in the fifty-fourth 
 year of the Independence of the United States of America, James Lucas and 
 Emanuel Kent Deaver, of the said District, have deposited in this office the 
 title of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words fol- 
 J owing, to wit: 
 
 "Practical Reading Lessons on the Three Great Duties, which man owes to 
 his Maker— his Fellow Beings— and Himself; illustrated by numerous Interest' 
 ing Historical Anecdotes, Biographical Sketches, &c, intended for the Instruc- 
 tion and Amusement of Youth." 
 
 '■Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, 
 Leetorem delectando, pariterque monendo."— Horace. 
 
 la conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, intituled, 
 "• An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, 
 Charts, and Books to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies, during the 
 times therein mentioned;" and also to the Act entitled, " An Act, supplemen- 
 tary to an Act, entitled, "An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by se- 
 curing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors 
 of such copies during the times therein mentioned," and extending the bene- 
 fits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other 
 prints." 
 
 PHILIP MOORE, 
 Clerk of the District of Maryland. 
 
 ntzmmmutsntitms 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PKACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 From the Hon. Joseph Hojikinson, Judge of the Supreme 
 Court of the United States. 
 
 Philadelphia, Sept. 24, 1830. 
 
 I have read with much satisfaction the volume en- 
 titled " Practical Reading Lessons," &c. The subjects 
 are exceedingly well chosen and arranged, and fulfil 
 even the high promises of the title page. The manner 
 in which these valuable lessons are given, is admirably 
 ealcuiatedymbt only- to*make a v deep^and durable im- 
 pression on youthful minds, but, further, to lead them 
 to deeper reflections and practical applications of their 
 precepts. 
 
 Long dissertations, however sensible and perspicuous, 
 are not easily remembered ; and even condensed and 
 pithy axioms of general truth are not readily brought 
 into actual use. A story, a striking anecdote, illustrating 
 
 
the precept or principle intended to be inculcated, are 
 infinitely more effectual. 
 
 I hope this excellent work will have a circulation 
 commensurate with the benevolence which has caused 
 its publication. 
 
 JOS. HOPKINSON. 
 
 From the Rev. W. H. Be Lancey, D. D., President of 
 the University of Pennsylvania, to the proprietor cf 
 the work, 
 
 Philadelphia, July 2d, 1830. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 In reply to your note requesting my opinion of the 
 volume which accompanied it, entitled " Practical 
 Reading Lessons," See. &c. I cheerfully state, that I 
 am very much pleased with the plan, and, as far as I 
 have examined the selections, with the execution also. 
 I find in the work a very great variety of interesting' an- 
 ecdotes, aptly applied, and well calculated to attract the 
 youthful mind to the duties and maxims with which they 
 are connected, as illustrations and examples. The vo- 
 lume will, I think, prove to be a most useful and popu- 
 lar addition to the class of works to which it belongs. 
 And I trust its success will not only reward you for 
 the labour bestowed upon its preparation, but also ac- 
 complish the principal object you have in view, — that 
 of directing the minds of the young towards the great 
 principles of moral and religious duty. 
 
 I remain, very respectfully, yours, 
 W. H. DE LANCEY. 
 
 From the Rev. G. P. Livingston, D. D. 
 
 The undersigned concurs in the opinion expressed 
 above by Dr. De Lancey. 
 
 G. R. LIVINGSTON. 
 
 From the Rev. Edward Rut ledge, Professor of Moral 
 Philosophy, fjfe. in the University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Philadelphia, July 19th, 1820. 
 
 I have looked through the volume of " Practical 
 
 Reading Lessons, &C." with much pleasure, and deem 
 
 it admirably adapted to the purpose for which it was 
 
prepared. Its introduction into our schools would, in 
 my opinion, greatly subserve the interests of taste and 
 of morality. 
 
 EDWARD RUTLEDGE. 
 
 From Walter P. Johnson, Esq., Principal of the Phila- 
 del/ihia High School. 
 
 July 14,1830. 
 
 Having perused the " Practical Reading Lessons,*' 
 3 feel confident that the work is, both as to its design 
 and its execution, fitted to please, instruct, and benefit 
 the youthful reader. 
 
 By arranging the maxims and illustrations of mora! 
 duty under the appropriate divisions of the general sub- 
 ject, and by preserving a due mixture of abstract doc- 
 trine and characteristic anecdote, you have infused 
 more life and spirit into this performance than gener- 
 ally belong to collections of the same class. The work 
 presents a favourable view of moral philosophy, teach- 
 ing by example, and will, I doubt not, meet an encour- 
 agement corresponding with its merits in this import- 
 ant particular. 
 
 WALTER R. JOHNSON. 
 
 From Benjamin Tucker, a respectable Teacher, of the 
 Society of Friends, 
 
 Philadelphia, 7th Month 22d, 1830. 
 
 I have perused with much pleasure, as far as my 
 other engagements would permit, a recent publication, 
 entitled " Practical Reading Lessons, Sec. intended for 
 the instruction and amusement of youth :" and I think 
 the work well calculated for a class book in our English 
 seminaries. 
 
 Besides appropriate maxims and moral extracts, the 
 compiler has been peculiarly happy in his selection of 
 biographical and historical facts, with which he illus- 
 trates and enforces the deeply interesting duties that 
 he has adopted as the distinct divisions of his work. 
 
 The attentive youthful reader will seldom rise from 
 the perusal of this interesting volume without an im- 
 pression of benefit. The proprietor has, therefore, my 
 best wishes, for its extensive circulation. 
 
 BENJ. TUCKER, 
 
 
From the Rev. Samuel Eccleston, President of St. 
 Mary's College, Baltimore, 
 
 St. Mary's College, 11th. Sept. 1830, 
 
 I have read the Practical Reading Lessons with, 
 much satisfaction. It is with me a matter of surprise, 
 that a plan at once so obvious and so judicious, has not 
 been more generally adopted in works of this class. 
 All admit that the great secret of elementary educa- 
 tion is to combine amusement with instruction, and to 
 inform the understandings of children by stimulating 
 their curiosity. But this principle, though admitted 
 in theory, is seldom successfully pursued in practice. 
 The judgment, the taste and historical knowledge 
 which are requisite for the execution of the task, are 
 not always the characteristics of school books. I am 
 happy to express my opinion that the Practical Read- 
 ing Lessons are, in this respect, peculiarly and favour- 
 ably distinguished. I am acquainted with no book 
 which has so nearly accomplished the object announc- 
 ed in the preface. 
 
 SAMUEL ECCLESTON. 
 
 From the Rev. Wm. JVevins, Pastor of the \st Presby- 
 terian Churchy Baltimore. 
 
 Baltimore, Sept. 9, 1830. 
 I have examined with some care the volume entitled 
 " Practical Reading Lessons," and take pleasure in 
 saying that I entirely approve the plan of the work, 
 and the arrangement of the subjects ; and think the se- 
 lection of matter made with a good degree of judg- 
 ment and taste. 
 
 WM. NEVINS. 
 
 From the Rev. Wm. E. Wyatt, D. Z>., Pastor of St. 
 Paul's Church, Baltimore. 
 
 September 6th, 1830. 
 Having examined a considerable part of the volume 
 of Historical Anecdotes, — " Practical Reading Les- 
 sons," — I am so favourably imp^ssed with what I 
 have seen, that I can confidently trust the principles 
 and taste of the judicious compiler for the remainder, 
 
 a* 
 
and shall procure it as a school book for my children. 
 While it is both instructive and amusing, it is calcu- 
 lated to cherish the most generous sentiments. 
 
 W. E. WYATT. 
 
 From Mr. Joseph R. Chandler, Editor of the "United 
 States* Gazette" 
 
 Philadelphia, Sept. 18, 1830. 
 
 I have carefully revised the school book, entitled 
 "Practical Reading Lessons," &x. and cheerfully bear 
 testimony to its adaptation to the requirements of a 
 school. 
 
 I am persuaded that no class of scholars can read the 
 lessons of this interesting volume, without imbibing 
 therefrom high ideas of moral excellence, and forming 
 determinations of attaining to the standard which the 
 great and good of other days have erected for them. 
 
 The arrangement of the work is good, and the man- 
 ner, hence, becomes happily auxiliary to the matter; 
 and I think I discover in the work, the assurance of 
 the highest reward that its compiler has ever sought 
 for his literary labours — the moral, and consequent 
 physical, benefits of the rising generation. 
 
 JOSEPH R. CHANDLER. 
 
 From S. S. Griscom, Principal of the Clermont Academy ■ 
 Clermont Academy, 9 mo. 16, 1830. 
 
 1 have examined the " Practical Reading Lessons;" 
 and believing that very great evil results to society 
 generally, and especially to youth, from the multitude 
 of books which are put into their hands, on trifling and 
 fictitious subjects, tending to vitiate the taste, and to 
 destroy in the mind all reiish for solid truths ; I feel 
 much pleasure in saying, I think this volume a valu- 
 able addition to the stock of books, for the " instruc- 
 tion and amusement of youth." 
 
 I shall give it a place in our Students' Library; and 
 also use it as a class book for reading exercises. 
 
 SAMUEL S. GRISCOM, 
 
PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 0\m DUTIES TO OTJD GOD. 
 
 TRUTH. 
 
 Truth, tho' sometimes clad 
 
 In painful lustre, yet is always welcome, 
 Dear as the light that shews the lurking rock : 
 'Tis the fair star, that ne'er unto the main 
 Descending, leads us safe thro' stormy life. 
 
 Thompson. 
 
 After all, the most natural beauty in the world, is honesty 
 and moral truth; for all beauty is truth. True features make 
 the beauty of a face, and true proportions the beauty of ar- 
 chitecture ; as true measures, that of harmony in music. In 
 poetry which is all fable, truth still is the perfection. 
 
 Shaftesbury 
 
 He that would make a real progress in knowledge, must 
 dedicate his age as well as youth, the latter growth as well 
 as the first fruits, at the altar of truth. Berkeley, 
 
 My palace and my ears, said Hiero, king of Syracuse, are 
 always open to those who will speak to me in the language of 
 truth, without disguise, and in the tones of frankness. 
 
 While Alexander the Great made his voyage upon the 
 Hydaspis, he found that time rolled heavily by, and in order 
 
10 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 te beguile the moments, he called upon Aristobulus, the 
 historian, to read to him the history of his actions, which he 
 had been for some time preparing. The manuscript was 
 produced accordingly ; and the officers of the king, collect- 
 ing in the stern of the vessel, prepared to hear an account 
 of events, in which they themselves had been actors. The 
 historian now fancied that the hour of his greatest pride had 
 come. His narrative, however, although generally correct, 
 was crowded with brilliant falsehoods and servile flattery, 
 such as an interested imagination alone could have con- 
 ceived. The king heard silently to the end; then snatching 
 the manuscript from the hand of Aristobulus, instead of re- 
 warding him with expressions of praise, he exclaimed^ 
 ''Vile flatterer! thou, instead of thy manuscript, should be 
 cast into the Hydaspis, for daring to gratify even a mo- 
 narch's ear, so far to violate the truth, as thou hast done, in 
 thy false and miserable performance." With these words, 
 he threw the roll into the river, and commanded the histo- 
 rian from his presence. 
 
 Philip of Macedori was delighted when any one spoke 
 the plain truth to him, even when it was disagreeable. He 
 is said to have taken lessons in the art of reigning from the 
 philosopher, Aristotle, and confessed himself much indebt- 
 ed to the orators of Athens, who had animadverted upon 
 his faults. It was this monarch, who employed men to ex- 
 claim to him, every day, before he gave audience, "Philip, 
 remember that thou art mortal!" a truth so important to be 
 remembered, and yet, generally, so disagreeable to the ear of 
 royalty. 
 
 He, who, when called upon to speak a disagreeable truth, 
 tells it boldly and has done, is both bolder and milder than 
 he who nibbles in a low voice, and never ceases nibbling. 
 
 Lavater. 
 
 The tyrant Dionysius had a remarkable itch for making 
 verses, which were always far below mediocrity ; and like 
 most bad poets, he took every occasion" to recite them. 
 His courtiers listened with pretended admiration, and were 
 lavish of their praises of what they termed the climax of ex- 
 cellence, Philoxenes alone, himself an excellent poet, re- 
 fused to join in the general acclamation of applause ; and 
 
TRUTH. 11 
 
 when asked his opinion by the tyrant, replied, "That he 
 thought them very indifferent, and not fit to be recited as 
 specimens of merit." Dionysius, enraged at this frankness, 
 ordered the poet to be confined in the celebrated prison of 
 Syracuse. When he had remained there for some time, long 
 enough, it was thought, to weaken his spirit of indepen- 
 dence, Dionysius, who was very anxious that he should ad- 
 mire his verses, sent for him, received him with great fami- 
 liarity, and invited him to dinner. During the repast, when 
 Philoxenes appeared in a fit humour, and rather elevated 
 with wine, Dionysius rose and commenced the recital of 
 his favourite production. In the midst of it, he saw the 
 poet leaving the room. He called after him, and asked 
 where he was going. "To prison," said the other. The 
 tyrant, so far from being provoked at the reply, laughed 
 heartily at the idea, which it conveyed, that his last verses 
 were no better than his first ; and, instead of punishing Phi- 
 loxenes, forgave him, and rewarded him for his love of truth. 
 
 If a man be sincerely wedded to truth, he must make up 
 his mind to find her a portionless virgin, and he must take 
 her for herself alone. The contract, too, must be to love, 
 cherish and obey her, not only until death, but beyond it ; 
 for this is an union that must survive not only death, but 
 time, the conqueror of death. The adorer of truth, there- 
 fore, is above all present things. Firm, in the midst of 
 temptation, and frank in the midst of treachery, he will be at- 
 tacked by those who have prejudices, simply because he 
 is without them ; decried as a bad bargain by all who want 
 to purchase, because he alone is not to be bought; and abus- 
 ed by all parties because he is the advocate of none ; like 
 the dolphin, which is always painted more crooked than a 
 ram's horn, although every naturalist knows that it is the 
 straightest fish that swims. Lacon. 
 
 In the latter days of Thebes, a group of its younger citi- 
 zens were indulging in anticipations of the future, and se- 
 lecting from the various conditions of human life, those 
 which they deemed the most desirable. One wished for the 
 possession of boundless wealth, to enable him to relieve the 
 misfortunes of those around him. Another desired power 
 to reform all abuses in government, and force men to be 
 firtuous and happy. A third, limited his views of happiness 
 
12 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 to domestic life, and prayed that his wife might be as beau- 
 tiful as Venus, and as wise as Minerva. And a fourth de- 
 sired nothing better, than the fame which followed success 
 in arms. Each one composed the epitaph, which he de- 
 sired should be written on his tomb ; and in doing this, all 
 made the record of their deeds, long enough for the largest 
 tablets of the most splendid monuments. The mother of one 
 of them, who heard the various wishes of the young men, 
 took her son by the hand, and followed by the others, led 
 the way to a simple tomb on which were inscribed these 
 words only, "Epaminondas never told] a lie." It was the 
 monument of the Theban general, before which they stood. 
 "Be it the object of your life, my son," said the Theban 
 mother, " whether in pursuit of wealth, or power, or fame, 
 to merit after death, the simple epitaph of Epaminondas." 
 
 A Persian monarch had built a splendid palace, from the 
 centre of which rose a tower of astonishing height. Thi- 
 ther he one day led a party of the ladies of his court ; and 
 when they reached the summit, and stood upon the narrow 
 platform, without even the slightest balustrade around 
 it, the monarch invited their attention to the beauties of the 
 landscape, which presented itself on all sides. The gardens 
 below and the neighbouring country spread themselves 
 out, as upon the surface of a picture; and in every direction, 
 were seen evidences of the wealth and taste of the owner of 
 the palace. But all these beauties, could not reconcile the la- 
 dies to the dangerous elevation at which they were standing. 
 •'Do you not admire the prospect which presents itself?" 
 said the monarch, who felt none of the fear which agitated 
 his companions. "It is magnificent," was the reply of all, 
 but one trembling girl, "and proves the splendid talents and 
 great power of our prince. Who else could thus convert 
 the rugged surface of nature into a scene like this?" "And 
 why do you not speak, Myra," said the monarch to the si- 
 lent girl. "I am chilled with fear, my lord," was the an- 
 swer, "and would rather stand in the meanest hovel, than 
 on this dreadful height." " You have spoken truth, Myra," 
 replied he; "and it pleases me more than all the fulsome 
 flatteries of those, who have your feelings without the cou- 
 age to express them." They descended from the tower, and 
 in a few short weeks, Myra was the favored wife of the Per- 
 sian monarch. 
 
TRUTH. 13 
 
 Xenocrates was a man of that truth and fidelity, that the 
 Athenians gave him alone, this privilege, that his evidence 
 should be lawful without swearing. And it was said of 
 Fabricius, that a man might as well attempt to turn the sun 
 out of its course, as to bring him to tell a falsehood, or do a 
 base or dishonest action. 
 
 Truth, in the words of La Bruyere, is the sun of intelli^ 
 gence ; and in the hands of the weak and simple frequently 
 defeats the plans, or disarms the anger, of the powerful and 
 learned. One lie requires a thousand to support it. A 
 single truth stands firmly without assistance; and that, 
 whether the lips, which utter it, are those of the peasant or 
 the prince, the school-boy or the sage. 
 
 There was a Court in China, the duty of which consisted 
 in placing upon the records of the Celestial Empire, as the 
 vanity. of the Chinese termed their country, all the actions, 
 good and bad, of the reigning monarch. On one occasion, 
 the emperor Tait-Song ordered the history of his reign to 
 be produced before him. The president of the*, court 
 objected to the demand, saying, "You know, sire, that our 
 duty is to give an account of the vices, as well as the 
 virtues, of our sovereigns; and we will no longer be at 
 liberty, without fear, to speak the truth, if the sacred volume 
 be made subject to your inspection." "What!" replied the 
 emperor, "do you dare to transmit to posterity an account 
 of my failings, to inform it of my faults?" "The dignity of 
 my office," answered the other, "does not permit, me to 
 varnish over, or to conceal the truth. I must relate every 
 thing. If you commit acts of injustice, I shall lament 
 them deeply. If you allow yourself to be led from the 
 path of virtue, by weakness unworthy of your rank, I shall 
 be the first to mourn, but I cannot remain silent. The very 
 conversation, Oh emperor! which we now hold together, will 
 not be passed over in silence, such is my exactness and 
 severity in the support of truth and the performance of my 
 duty." The emperor of China had a soul to estimate the 
 worth of the president of his tribunal of history. "Conti- 
 nue," he said, "in the performance of your office, as strictly 
 as you have commenced it. Relate my virtues and my 
 faults, that both may impart useful lessons to my successor* 
 
 1* 
 
14 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 and posterity ; and let the history of my conduct meet, in 
 your hands, with the severest impartiality." 
 
 Truth is scarcely to be heard, but by those, from whom it 
 can serve no interest to conceal it; and the true motives of 
 conduct will be shewn only, when the mind acts in its 
 natural state, without any impediment from hope or fear. 
 
 Antiochus the Great, king of Syria, was one day follow- 
 ing the chase, of which he was immoderately fond, until in 
 his eagerness, he was separated far from his companions, 
 and left alone, at a considerable distance from his palace. 
 In this situation the night began to close around him, and 
 he was obliged to obtain shelter in the hut of some wood- 
 men, who were ignorant of his person, and with whom he 
 passed himself as a lord of the court. While eating his 
 supper, he heard his hosts talking, around the fire, of his own 
 character. He pretended not to notice them, and they 
 went on. "Our king," said they, "is a very honest man 
 and a good prince: but he reposes too much confidence in 
 ministers, who do not at all resemble him, and who make 
 him a party to all their exactions upon the subjects of the 
 kingdom. Besides, his passion for the chase is so exces- 
 sive, that, while following the boar, he forgets and neglects 
 his duties as a sovereign." Antiochus listened to and 
 profited by the lesson, which had thus unintentionally been 
 given to him. In the morning he left the hut of the wood- 
 men, after rewarding them munificently for his lodging, and 
 returned to his palace. It was the hour of audience, when 
 he arrived, and instead of starting as usual for the chase, he 
 called for his crown and sceptre, to preside in person on the 
 throne. When they were presented to him, he exclaimed, 
 "It was only yesterday, for the first time since I have worn 
 you, ornaments more dangerous than honourable ! that I 
 have heard the truth on any subject, in which I was con- 
 cerned." 
 
 I believe that nature herself has constituted truth as the 
 Supreme Deity which is to be adored by mankind; and that 
 she has given it greater force than any of the rest; for being 
 opposed as she is on all sides, an appearance of truth so 
 often passing for the thing itself, in behalf of plausible false- 
 
TRUTH. 15 
 
 hoods, yet by her wonderful operation, she insinuates her- 
 self into the minds of men, sometimes exerting her strength 
 immediately, and sometimes lying hid in darkness for a 
 length of time, but at last she struggles through it, and 
 appears triumphant over falsehood. Polybius. 
 
 The game of chess, now so common throughout the 
 world, originated in an attempt to convey a lesson of truth 
 to the mind of one, whose rank and power made it danger- 
 ous to communicate it in any other manner. An Indian 
 prince of a violent and unrestrained temper, but of strong 
 understanding, was in the constant habit of treating his 
 subjects as if they were only so many brute animals, born 
 for the sole purpose of ministering to his pleasures, and 
 being the objects of his passion. In vain did his officers 
 remind him, that without subjects a kingdom was power- 
 less, and that his strength depended at all times upon their 
 affection and esteem. Death, after death, still followed at 
 his command, until every eye was at last turned towards 
 him in fear and hatred. At this time, a wise man of his 
 kingdom invented the game of chess, where the king is 
 constantly exposed to attack and defeat, unless protected in 
 their different ways by his subjects, in the characters of com- 
 mon soldiers, knights, bishops, castles and a queen. The 
 monarch became, in a short time, so delighted with the 
 game, that it was his constant amusement; when the inven- 
 tor took occasion to reveal the moral of the play, and 
 designate the various pieces by their appropriate names. 
 The king became deeply interested, as the sage proceeded ; 
 and instead of ordering him to execution, as he had done 
 his former advisers, he confessed his faults and throwing 
 himself upon the neck of his opponent at the game, pro- 
 mised hereafter to consult the happiness only, of those sub- 
 jects, upon whom he now acknowledged, that he was so 
 much dependant. He entreated to know how he should 
 reward his benefactor. This last demanded as many grains 
 of wheat as could be produced, by multiplying the different 
 squares of the chess board, through the whole sixty-four; as 
 one grain for the first square, two for the second, four for 
 the third, sixteen for the fourth, two hundred and fifty-six 
 for the fifth, and so on. The king smiled at the apparent 
 smallness of the reward, and granted it immediately; when 
 it was found that all the corn in his kingdom would not 
 
16 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 produce the amount required! When he informed the 
 Bage of his deficiency, he was reminded, that kings should 
 always be on their guard against those, who surrounded 
 them, and not too rashly grant favours, which might involve 
 them and their subjects in ruin. 
 
 VIRTUE. 
 
 When our souls shall leave this dwelling, 
 The glory of one fair and virtuous action 
 Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb, 
 Or silken banners over us. 
 
 There is but one pursuit in life, which it is in the power of 
 all to follow, and of all to attain. It is subject to no disap- 
 pointments, since he that perseveres makes every difficulty 
 an advancement, and every contest a victory ; and this is the 
 pursuit of virtue. Sincerely to aspire after virtue, is to gain 
 her ; and zealously to labour after her wages, is to receive 
 them. Those that seek her earnestly will find her before it 
 is late. Her reward also is with her, and she will come 
 quickly ; for the breast of a good man is a little heaven com- 
 mencing on earth, where the Deity sits enthroned with 
 unrivalled influence; every subjugated passion, like the 
 wind and storm fulfilling his word. Lacon* 
 
 The only things in which we can be said to have any 
 property, are our actions. Our thoughts may be bad, yet 
 produce no poison ; they may be good, yet produce no fruit. 
 Our riches may be taken from us by misfortune, our reputa-^ 
 tion by malice, our spirits by calamity, our health by disease, 
 our friends by death, but our actions must follow us beyond 
 the grave. With respect to them alone we cannot say, that 
 we shall carry nothing with us when we die, neither that 
 we shall go naked out of the world. Our actions must 
 clothe us with an immortality, loathesome or glorious. These 
 are the only title deeds, of which we cannot be disinherited; 
 they will have their full weight in the balance of eternity, 
 when every thing else is as nothing, and their value will be 
 
VIRTUE. 17 
 
 confirmed and established, by those two sure and sateless 
 destroyers of all other things, — time and death. Lacoh. 
 
 Honour is unstable and seldom the same, for she feeds 
 upon opinion, and is as fickle as her food. She builds a 
 lofty structure on the sandy foundation of the esteem of 
 those, who are of all beings, the most subject to change: 
 but virtue is uniform and fixed, because she looks for ap- 
 probation only from Him, who is the same yesterday, to- 
 day, and forever. Honour is most capricious in her re- 
 wards. She feeds us with air, and often pulls down our 
 house to build our monument. She is contracted in her 
 views, inasmuch as her hopes are rooted in earth, bounded 
 by time, terminated by death. But virtue is enlarged and 
 infinite in her hopes, inasmuch as they extend beyond pre- 
 sent things, even to eternal. This is their proper sphere, 
 and they will cease only in the reality of deathless enjoy- 
 ment. In the storms and in the tempest of life, honour is 
 not to be depended on, because she, herself, partakes of it 
 too much. She also is buffetted by the wave, and borne 
 along by the whirlwind. But virtue is above the storm, 
 and has an anchor sure and steadfast, because it is cast in 
 heaven. The noble Brutus worshipped honour, and in his 
 zeal mistook her for virtue. In the day of trial he found 
 her a shadow and a name : but no man can purchase his 
 virtue too dear, for it is the only thing whose value must 
 ever increase with the price it has cost us. Lacon. 
 
 Maurice, prince of Orange, the second stadtholder of 
 Holland, wishing to extend his authority beyond what the 
 friends of freedom deemed consistent with liberty, the pa- 
 triotic zeal of Barneveldt, the celebrated Dutch statesman, 
 induced him to propose, and try to effect its limitation with- 
 in safe bounds. For his conduct in so doing, he made him- 
 self an object of suspicion to the court, and the first oppor- 
 tunity was taken to bring him into disgrace. He was final- 
 ly charged with a treasonable correspondence with Spain, 
 was tried by twenty-six commissioners appointed from the 
 provinces, and was unjustly condemned to death, and in- 
 humanly executed. His two sons, William and Rene, af- 
 ter the death of their father, entered into a conspiracy 
 against Maurice, the object of which was, to expel him from 
 the government of the states. The plot was discovered. 
 
18 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 William fled ; but Rene was taken, tried and sentenced to 
 lose his life. At this time his mother, who in silent grief 
 had watched the progress of her husband's trial, and made 
 no effort to prevent his execution, appeared before the 
 stadtholder, and begged that the life of Rene might be spar- 
 ed. Maurice heard her petition, and then expressed his 
 surprise, that she would do more for her son than for her 
 husband, in asking a pardon. To this remark she replied 
 with indignation, "I would not ask a pardon for my hus- 
 band, because he was innocent — I solicit it for my son, 
 because he is guilty." 
 
 The emperor Vespasian, wishing to have a law passed by 
 the senate of Rome, ordered a senator to vote in favour of 
 it, who had before refused, on the ground of its being injuri- 
 ous to the interests of his country. Irritated at the unex- 
 pected opposition, which he met with, Vespasian threatened 
 the senator with death, if he did not immediately obey. The 
 intrepid patriot, who was conscious, that through his influence 
 Rome might be saved from the danger, which threatened it 
 on the passage of the law, fearlessly replied with a smile, 
 "Did I ever tell yon that I was immortal? My virtue is at 
 my own disposal. My life, I know, is at yours : — do then 
 what you will, and I shall do what I ought; and if I fall in 
 the service of my country, I shall have more triumph in my 
 death, than you in all your laurels." 
 
 A person was condemned to death in Corsica, for crimes 
 against the government of his country, which were of a 
 heinous and offensive character. His nephew, anxious to 
 save his life, procured a lady of high rank to intercede for 
 him, and accompanied her before the celebrated Paoli. 
 The lady exhausted all her eloquence in stating the case of 
 the criminal, and used all her ingenuity in endeavouring to 
 palliate his conduct. Paoli listened attentively ; but there 
 was that in his air, which made the nephew believe that the 
 solicitations had not the desired weight with the Corcican 
 general. After asking permission to speak, he said, "Sir, 
 if you will pardon my uncle, his family will at once pay a 
 thousand zechins into the treasury, and pay and support 
 fifty soldiers during the siege of Furiani." Paoli was struck 
 with the earnestness of the young man, whose character for 
 probity and honour was well known to him, and at last an- 
 
VIRTUE. 19 
 
 swered, that if the applicant himself should think it consist- 
 ent with the honour and interests of Corsica, that the of- 
 fender should be pardoned, he had only to say so, and it 
 should be done gratuitously, and forthwith. The tempta- 
 tion was a strong one ; and the young man, distracted with 
 contending emotions, remained for some moments silent. 
 He had only to intimate it, and his uncle would be free ; but 
 then he was well aware, that liberty and life had both been 
 justly forfeited, and that no hope of amendment could be 
 entertained. Virtue and patriotism at last prevailed. u I 
 would not sell the honour of my country for a thousand ze- 
 chins," he said, and rushed from the apartment. 
 
 The Persians, aware of the importance of attaching 
 Epaminondas, the Theban, to their interests, made various 
 attempts to effect it. Numerous were the offers, which 
 they made to him; but all proved equally unsuccessful. 
 Gold was at last tried, and Diomedon of Cyzicus became 
 the bearer of the bribe. He had succeeded in bribing a fa- 
 vourite of the Theban general, and through him made his 
 offers. Epaminondas rejected the bribe with contempt. 
 He preferred the approbation of his conscience, to the pos- 
 session of wealth, and with the indignation of a patriot, he 
 sent this answer to the Persian messenger: "It is plain 
 that you do not know me — but let me advise you to make 
 the best of your way home, before you attempt to corrupt 
 another Theban." 
 
 No matter how high the value, which we have before 
 placed upon human things, we have a just estimation of 
 them only upon our death bed, when the passions ceasing 
 to influence us, we see with a clearer eye, and judge with 
 a more unbiassed judgment, than in the moments of health 
 and prosperity. A Persian monarch lay upon his death 
 bed, when a courier was announced, who, hurrying into 
 the chamber of the monarch, gave him the news of the 
 capture of an important town, hoping that the intelligence 
 of success would reanimate the expiring man. "Go tell 
 the news to my heir," was the answer; " and tell him too^ 
 that the taking of an hundred towns, gives less comfort to 
 a king in his last moments, than the remembrance of one 
 good action." 
 
20 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 When Lord Russel mounted the scaffold, on which he 
 was to be executed, he drew his watch from his pocket, and 
 handing it to Dr. Burnet, who attended him on the melan- 
 choly occasion, observed to him, "Take my time-piece; it 
 may be of service to you; I have no longer occasion for it; 
 my thoughts are now fixed upon eternity." 
 
 Our life is short; but to extend that span 
 To vast eternity, is Virtue's work. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 He lives in fame, that dies in Virtue's cause, 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Every virtue gives a man a degree of felicity in some 
 kind. Honesty gives a man good report; justice, estima- 
 tion; prudence, respect; courtesy and liberality, affection; 
 temperance gives health ; fortitude, a quiet mind, and not 
 to be moved by any adversity. 
 
 Louis, Dauphin of France, the son of Louis XV. and 
 father of Louis XVI. remarkable for his virtue, gave a 
 memorable lesson to his children, from the record of their 
 baptism. The young princes had been accustomed to hear 
 themselves saluted with profound respect, and to see their 
 names written with a long string of titles and orders annex- 
 ed to them. They already began to place an exceeding 
 value upon the rank, to which they were accidentally 
 entitled, when their father caused the register of baptism to 
 be opened, and showed them their names, without addition, 
 recorded like those of the children of a poor man who had 
 preceded them. "See," said he to them, "here are your 
 names, placed after those of the poor and needy. Nature 
 and religion put all men upon a level. Virtue alone makes 
 any difference between them ; and perhaps, they who pre- 
 cede you will one day be greater before the eye of the 
 Almighty, than you will become in the eye of the people." 
 
 You may depend upon it, he is a good man whose inti- 
 mate friends are all good, and whose enemies are charac- 
 ters decidedly bad. Lavater. 
 
VIRTUE. 21 
 
 Sincerity is like travelling in a plain beaten,road, which 
 commonly brings a man sooner to his journey's end, than 
 bye ways, in which men often lose themselves. 
 
 Tillotson. 
 
 'Tis not the title, whether handed down, 
 From age to age, or flowing from the crown 
 In copious streams from recent men, who came 
 From stems unknown, and sires without a name: 
 'Tis not the star which our brave Edward gave, 
 To mark the virtuous, and reward the brave, 
 Blazing without, while a base heart within, 
 Was rotten to the core with filth and sin : 
 'Tis not the tinsel grandeur taught to wait, 
 At custom's call, to mark the fool of state 
 From fools of lesser note, that soul can awe, 
 Whose pride is virtue, whose defence is law. 
 
 ChurchilL 
 
 You must not neglect doing a thing immediately good, 
 for fear of remote evil, or for fear of its being abused: a man 
 who has candles may sit up too late, which he would not 
 do, if he had not candles; but nobody will deny that the art 
 of making candles, by which light is continued to us, 
 beyond the time that the sun gives us light, is a valuable 
 art, and ought to be preserved. Johnson. 
 
 Murmur at nothing: if our ills are reparable, it is ungrate- 
 ful; if remediless, it is vain. But a Christian builds his for- 
 titude on a better foundation than stoicism; he is pleased 
 with every thing that happens, because he knows it could 
 not happen unless it first pleased God, and that which 
 pleases Him, must be the best. He is assured that no 
 new thing can befal him, and that he is in the hands of a 
 father, who will score him with no affliction, that resigna- 
 tion cannot conquer, or that death cannot cure. Lacon. 
 
 When they invited Numa, says Dion, to the sovereignty, 
 he for some time refused it, and persisted long in his reso- 
 lution not to accept the invitation. But at the pressing 
 instance of his brothers, and at last of his father, who 
 would not Buffer him to reject the offer of so great ate 
 
22 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 honour, he condescended to be a king. As soon as the 
 Romans were informed of all this by the ambassadors, they 
 conceived a great affection for him, before they saw him ; 
 esteeming it a sufficient argument of his wisdom, that while 
 others valued royalty beyond measure, looking upon it as 
 the source of happiness, he alone despised it, as a thing of 
 small value, and unworthy of his attention. And when he 
 approached the city, they met him upon the road, and with 
 great applause, salutations and other honours, conducted 
 him to Rome. 
 
 Every one must see and feel, that bad thoughts quickly 
 ripen into bad actions ; and that if the latter only are for- 
 bidden, and the former free, all morality will soon be at an 
 end. Porteus. 
 
 Cyrus refused to see Panthea, a queen whom he had taken 
 prisoner, and who, according to the barbarous custom of 
 the times, was liable to any indignity which he might have 
 chosen to offer. One of his favourites, who had been in 
 her presence, came to the king, and after drawing the most 
 fascinating picture of her loveliness, told Cyrus that she 
 was an object which was truly worth the possession of a 
 monarch. "It is because she is beautiful," said Cyrus, 
 "that I want to avoid her. If I see her to-day, when 
 business does not interfere to prevent me, she might please 
 me so much, that I might wish to return to-morrow, when 
 my presence might be necessary elsewhere ; until, to remain 
 near her, I might sacrifice more important concerns, and 
 risk both my virtue and the performance of my duty to my 
 subjects and fellow beings. " 
 
 Whatever is done without ostentation and without the 
 people being witnesses of it, is in my opinion most praise- 
 worthy ; not that the public eye should be entirely avoided ; 
 for good actions deserve to be placed in the light; but not- 
 withstanding this, the greatest theatre for virtue is con- 
 science. Cicero. 
 
 If a man has a right to be proud of any thing, it is of a 
 good action done as it ought to be, without any base inter- 
 est lurking at the bottom of it. Sterne. 
 
VIRTUE. 23 
 
 A settled virtue 
 Makes itself a judge : and satisfied within, 
 Smiles at that common enemy, the world. 
 I am no more afraid of flying censures, 
 Than Heav'n of being fired with mounting sparkles. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 True goodness is not without that gem of greatness, that 
 can bear with patience the mistakes of the ignorant and 
 the censures of the malignant. The approbation of God is 
 her exceeding great reward, and she would not debase a 
 thing so precious by the contaminating plaudits of man. 
 
 Laco-n. 
 
 Julius Drusus, a tribune of the people, lived in a very 
 public part of Rome ; and his neighbours, without any diffi- 
 culty, might see what was going forward in most of the 
 apartments of his house. One day, a workman of much 
 skill came to him, and said, that for five talents, he would 
 alter the house in such a manner, as to make it impossible 
 for the most prying eye to look into any part of it. "I 
 would give you ten talents," said Drusus, "if you could so 
 arrange it, that every room and corner might be open to 
 public inspection. I had rather my neighbours might 
 know, that my actions were above suspicion, from their 
 own observation, than from common report." 
 
 Antigonus, king of Macedon, having visited Ephesus, 
 went to the temple of Diana to partake of the ceremonies 
 performed there in honour of the deity of the silver bow. 
 As the long procession of priestesses passed before him, he 
 was struck with the magnificent beauty of her, who presid- 
 ed over them. The chief priestess of Diana caused his 
 heart to thrill with an emotion, which it had never before 
 experienced; and for a moment, the idea of making her his 
 own by violence passed across his mind. But another 
 thought was sufficient to overcome the unholy feeling, 
 which had been roused within him; and leaving the temple, 
 he summoned his attendants, and departed from Ephesus ; 
 fearing lest the neighbourhood of the object might tempt 
 him to the commission of a crime, alike disgraceful to his 
 virtue and his generosity. 
 
24 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 The paths of virtue are plain and straight, so that the blind, 
 or persons of the meanest capacity, need not err. Dishonesty 
 requires skill to conduct it, and as great art to conceal, 
 what it is every one's interest to detect. And I think I 
 need not remind you, how often it happens in attempts of this 
 kind, when worldly men, in haste to be rich, have overrun 
 the only means of it, — and for want of laying their contri- 
 vances with proper cunning, or managing them with proper 
 secrecy and advantage, have lost forever what they might 
 certainly have secured with honesty and plain dealing. 
 The general cause of disappointments in their business, or 
 of unhappiness in their lives, lying but too manifestly in 
 their own disorderly passions, which, byattempting to carry 
 them a shorter way to riches and honour, disappoint them 
 of both forever, and make plain that their ruin is from them- 
 selves, and that they eat the fruits which their own hands 
 have watered and ripened. Sterne. 
 
 When the city of Messena was detached from the Achaean 
 league, Democrates, its king, advanced with an army 
 against Megalopolis, the country of the celebrated Philo- 
 psemen. Philopasmen was at this time sick of a fever in 
 Argos ; but as soon as he heard of the attack of the enemy, 
 he collected some of the bravest and most enthusiastic of 
 the young men of Argos, and marched to save his country. 
 Democrates came forth to meet him, and for a while with- 
 stood the rapid charge of Philopasmen. He was finally 
 overcome, however, and his troops fled in every direction. 
 Unfortunately, a body of men, who were stationed near the 
 scene of action, at this moment arrived to assist Democra- 
 tes. The fugitives were rallied and the battle renewed, with 
 every advantage on the part of the Messenians. Philopas- 
 men, seeing that victory was hopeless, now gave orders 
 to retire, and stationing himself in the rear, protected it 
 from the attacks of the enemy by his own personal prowess. 
 He frequently turned round, and after driving back the 
 nearest assailants, again pursued his retreat. At last he 
 was separated from his companions, and in a moment found 
 himself surrounded by his foes. Still they dared not join in 
 personal combat with him ; but thronging on all sides, forced 
 him to a spot where further retreat was impossible, and where 
 his horse, already severely wounded, fell ; and, as the Mes- 
 senians supposed, destroyed the life of his rider. Philopae- 
 
VIRTUE. 25 
 
 men, however, was not yet dead ; and Democrates caused 
 him to be loaded with chains, and with every mark of igno- 
 miny, carried to Messena. Here he was thrown into a 
 frightful dungeon, deprived of air and light, and watched 
 by soldiers, who trembled for fear of his escape. When the 
 night came, Democrates led the executioner to the entrance 
 of the prison of his captive, and giving him a bowl of deadly 
 poison, bid him administer it to Philopaemen, and remain 
 until it had accomplished its object. When the execution- 
 er entered, he found his victim lying on his cloak, absorbed 
 in grief, not at his own situation, but at the misery of his 
 country. As soon as he saw a man with a bowl in one 
 hand and a lamp in the other, he knew the purpose of his 
 visit, and raising himself on one arm, took the poison, with 
 apparent joy. His only question was, whether the young 
 soldiers, who had accompanied him from Argos, had fallen 
 into the hands of Democrates ; and being told that they were 
 safe, he replied, "then I am not altogether miserable;'' and 
 drinking the poison, laid himself with great tranquillity 
 upon his rough couch, and in a few moments expired with- 
 out a groan. 
 
 Virtue, though in rags, may challenge more than vice, set 
 off with all the trim of greatness. Massinger. 
 
 We see in needle-works and embroideries, it is more 
 pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn 
 ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a 
 lightsome ground: judge therefore, of the pleasure of the 
 heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like 
 precious odours, most fragrant when they are incensed or 
 crushed, for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity 
 doth best discover virtue. Lord Bacon. 
 
 In those times of Rome, when popular violence was the 
 supreme law,- Saturninus, a wicked and ambitious tribune 
 of the people, caused a law to be passed in the public 
 assembly, and sent to the senate, which was unjust in all its 
 provisions, and calculated to involve the city in tumult and 
 confusion. Aware that unless violence were threatened, the 
 law would not be passed, Saturninus declared, that if within 
 five days, it was not solemnly sworn to by all the senators 
 in the temple of Saturn, such as refused should be excluded 
 3* 
 
26 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 from the senate, and condemned to pay a fine of twenty 
 talents. The conquerer of Jugurtha, Metellus, surnamed 
 Numidicus, was, at this time, a member of the senate of 
 Rome; a man of unshaken virtue, great personal courage, 
 and enjoying a high reputation among his fellow citizens. 
 When all the other senators had consented to the demands 
 of Saturninus, Metellus alone refused to take the oath, 
 which was required of him. The enraged tribune com- 
 manded an officer to drive him from the senate house ; but 
 the other tribunes of the people, taking part with Metellus, 
 would not allow the order to be executed. Saturninus now 
 summoned together the citizens of Rome, and haranguing 
 them in the most violent manner, finally procured the sen- 
 tence of perpetual exile to be passed upon the unmoved 
 senator, unless on that very day, he consented to take the 
 oath, which had been taken by all his companions. Indig- 
 nant at this act of popular violence, and finding that Me- 
 tellus was still firm in his resolution, his friends, and a great 
 number of the better sort of Romans, collected around him, 
 and offered to defend him at the hazard of their lives. 
 They displayed the weapons which they had concealed 
 under their long robes, and desired to be led against the 
 tumultuous tyrants of the forum. But Metellus refused 
 their assistance, saying, " Either tranquillity will ere long 
 be established in the republic, when I have no doubt of 
 being recalled, or the reign of such men as Saturninus will 
 continue, in which case it will be the best for me, that I 
 remain an exile from Rome." Resolved to submit to 
 banishment, rather than be the means of lighting the flames 
 of a civil war, Metellus obeyed the sentence of the people. 
 His great reputation for virtue secured him friends in all 
 the places through which he passed, and having taken up 
 his residence at Rhodes, he enjoyed that calm repose, which 
 follows a well-spent life, and which is entirely independent 
 of rank, or wealth, or power. 
 
 The emperor of Germany, walking one day in the streets 
 of Vienna, dressed as a private individual, met a young 
 girl who appeared in great distress, and who carried a 
 packet under her arm. "Where are you going?" said the 
 emperor to her. " What have you in that bundle ? Can I not 
 assist in calming your grief?" " These," said the young girl, 
 opening her bundle, "are the clothes of my mother: alas, 
 
VIRTUE. 27 
 
 sir, they are our last resource. I am hastening to dispose 
 of them, to procure food for our family. If we had received 
 the pay of our poor father, who was killed in the service of 
 the emperor, we would not have been reduced to this sad 
 necessity." "And why have you not applied at court," 
 said the other: "you should have stated your case upon 
 paper, and sent it to the sovereign, when he doubtless 
 would have relieved you." " All this has been done, sir; 
 but the lord who undertook to befriend us, said, that nothing 
 could be obtained, and that it was useless to renew our ap- 
 plication." " There must have been some sad mistake," 
 answered the emperor, concealing the mortification which 
 the story caused him. "I am sure that the emperor has 
 never seen your petition; because he is too just to allow the 
 widow and children of an officer, who perished in his ser- 
 vice, to want the comforts of life. Draw up another peti- 
 tion, and bring it to the castle to-morrow morning; when, 
 if I find, that what you have stated is true, you shall see 
 the emperor, and I have no doubt that you will obtain what 
 you require. But in the mean time, you must not sell your 
 mother's clothes. How much did you expect to receive 
 for them?" "Six ducats," replied the astonished female. 
 "Here are ten," said the other, "which I will lend you, 
 until you can repay me out of the pension, which I am in 
 hopes, we will together, be able to procure on your visit to 
 court." The emperor turned away, and the delighted 
 daughter flew back to her mother, with the ten ducats and 
 the bundle of clothes. After describing to her relations 
 the person and manners of the stranger, they at once recog- 
 nized the emperor, and became excessively alarmed at the 
 consequences, which they thought would ensue, from the 
 freedom with which his apparent injustice had been men- 
 tioned. The young girl refused to go to court, and was at 
 last taken, almost by force, on the following morning, to the 
 appointed place. On the appearance of the emperor, she 
 recognized in him the person of her benefactor, and faint- 
 ed. The emperor assisted in the kindest manner, in reco- 
 vering her; and, when she became again sensible, said to 
 her; "Here my young friend, is the grant of a pension for 
 your mother, equal to the full pay of your father, with the 
 reversion of one half of it to you, should you be so unfortu- 
 nate as to lose her. Could I have learned sooner your 
 situation, I should have been able sooner to have relieved 
 it. Hereafter, that none may have cause to complain, I 
 
29 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 will set aside one day in each week, to receive the per- 
 sonal applications of my subjects." 
 
 The sultan Mahmoud was very ugly in his personal ap- 
 pearance ; and one day, when his grand vizier remarked 
 upon his being extremely sad and melancholy, the monarch 
 answered, "I have always heard, that the countenance of a 
 prince should impart joy to his subjects, and I am surprised 
 that mine, which is so deformed, does not disgust their 
 sight." "Sire," replied the minister, "the worth of a hu- 
 man being does not consist in the regularity of his features, 
 or the symmetry of his form. Virtue and the qualities of 
 the mind are the true sources of beauty. Among your 
 numerous subjects, there is not one, who remarks upon, or 
 observes your features: but your manners and your virtues 
 are noticed by all of them. It is with these that you 
 should gain their hearts, and become the object of their 
 affection." 
 
 When the cruelties of Nero, the tyrant of Rome, and the 
 disgrace of human nature, had rendered him odious to all 
 classes of his subjects, a conspiracy was formed to 
 destroy him, and elevate Piso, a man of great worth and 
 popularity, to the station of emperor. The sublime virtue 
 of Piso was the cause of the failure of the plot, and of his 
 own destruction. Nero was constantly in the habit of visit- 
 ing a country seat, belonging to Piso, without his usual 
 train of guards, attended only by a few courtiers, and some- 
 times even entirely alone. On one of these visits, it was 
 proposed, that he should be assassinated, which would hot 
 have been at all difficult of execution. But Piso refused to 
 permit the conspirators to carry their plans into execution. 
 "Nero," he said, "visits me in perfect confidence; he relies 
 on my good faith and loyalty ; I am, perhaps, the only one 
 of his subjects that he trusts; and although I join with you, 
 in considering him the tyrant of my country, the crown 
 itself, and all the honours which accompany its possession, 
 shall not tempt me to violate the laws of hospitality, or 
 break the confidence which is reposed in me. If you 
 would destroy Nero, seek another spot, and make use of 
 another agent." The conspirators were subsequently dis- 
 covered, and death became the reward of Piso's integrity 
 and virtue. 
 
VIRTUE. 29 
 
 The chariest maid is prodigal enough, 
 If she unveil her beauty to the moon: 
 Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes. 
 
 Shakspeare* 
 
 When factions ruled for a time in Athens, and the virtu- 
 ous and the innocent were sacrificed, as one or the other 
 daily gained a temporary ascendancy, Demetrius Phalerus 
 was exiled by a portion of his ungrateful fellow citizens. 
 In the days of his great popularity, they had raised to their 
 favourite three hundred and sixty brazen statues, and one 
 hour of his adversity saw them all demolished. The man 
 who had been, a short time before, almost worshipped as a 
 god, was hated as a fiend, and opprobrium of every kind 
 was heaped upon his name. In his retreat from the city, 
 he turned round, and paused to take a last look at the 
 glorious Acropolis, as it towered over the fields and vine- 
 yards of Attica, when a friend overtook him, and told him 
 of the indignity which had been offered him, in the destruc- 
 tion of his statues. Demetrius, received the intelligence, 
 unmoved, and resuming his road, said to his friend, "Why 
 6hould I mourn, when, thanks to the gods, the virtue which 
 caused the erection of those statues, is still my own." 
 
 At the siege of Philipsburg, in 1734, a soldier, belonging 
 to a grenadier regiment, behaved with marked and uncom- 
 mon bravery, and attracted the attention of a general officer 
 "of high rank ; who, calling him from his post, threw him a 
 purse, saying at the same time, that he regretted the small 
 value of its contents. The soldier took the purse and 
 returned into the fight. In the evening, as the officer was 
 seated in his tent, he was told that a grenadier wished to 
 see him. On being admitted, he proved to be the hero of 
 the morning, who, presenting several very valuable dia- 
 monds, said, "The gold which the purse contained, sir, I 
 have kept; but these diamonds never could have been 
 intended for me, and I return them." " Keep them, my 
 brave fellow," replied the other: "the gold is a poor reward 
 for your valour, and the diamonds a still poorer reward for 
 your virtue and honesty in returning them. They are 
 yours." 
 
 The following lines, from the pen of the celebrated satirist 
 Churchill, present in all the keenness of wit, and the har- 
 
30 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 mony of rhyme, the very reverse of such a character aa 
 would be formed by an observance of the rules of virtue. 
 
 From his youth upwards to the present day, 
 
 When vices more than years, have marked him gray; 
 
 When riotous excess with wasteful hand 
 
 Shakes life's frail glass, and hastes each ebbing sand; 
 
 Unmindful from what stock he drew his birth, 
 
 Untainted with one deed of real worth, 
 
 Lothario, holding honour at no price, 
 
 Folly to folly added, vice to vice; 
 
 Wrought sin with greediness and sought for shame, 
 
 With greater zeal than good men seek for fame. 
 
 Where (reason left without the least defence) 
 
 Laughter was mirth, obscenity was sense ; 
 
 Where impudence made decency submit ; 
 
 Where noise was humour, and where whim was wit ; 
 
 Where rude untempered license had the merit 
 
 Of liberty, and lunacy was spirit ; 
 
 Where the best things were ever held the worst. 
 
 Lothario was, with justice, always first. 
 
 To whip a top, to knuckle down at taw, 
 To swing upon a gate, to ride a straw, 
 To play at push pin with dull brother peers, 
 'To belch out catches in a porter's ears, 
 To reign the monarch of a midnight cell, 
 To be the gaping chairman's oracle, — 
 Whilst grey authority who slumbers there, 
 In robes of watchman's fur gives up his chair ; 
 With midnight howl to bay th' affrighted moon, 
 To walk with torches thro' the streets at noon, 
 To force plain nature from her usual way, — 
 Each night a vigil and a blank each day, — 
 To match for speed one feather 'gainst another, 
 To make one leg run races with its brother ; 
 'Gainst all the rest to take the northern wind, 
 Bute to ride first, and he to ride behind, 
 To coin new fangled wagers, and to lay them, 
 Laying to lose, and losing not to pay them, 
 Lothario on that stock which nature gives, 
 Without a rival stands, tho' March* yet lives. 
 
 Churchill 
 
 * Lord March — famous for his libertinism. 
 
RELIGION. 31 
 
 How excellently composed is that mind, which shows a 
 piercing wit, quite void of ostentation, high created 
 thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy, and eloquence as 
 sweet in the uttering, as slow to come to the uttering, and 
 a behaviour so noble as gives beauty to pomp, and majesty 
 to adversity. Sir P. Sidney. 
 
 It is a notable example of virtue, where the conqueror 
 seeks for the friendship of the conquered. ibid. 
 
 The Athenians were once very much excited against a 
 man, who had unintentionally offended them, but who was 
 guiltless of any crime deserving punishment. ' They called 
 upon Demosthenes to become his accuser. The orator, 
 however, refused; and perceiving that the people were 
 irritated at his refusal, he rose and addressed them. "Athe- 
 nians," he said, "you will always find me ready to give you 
 useful counsels, even at the risk of incurring your displea- 
 sure; but never, to gain your favour, will you find me willing 
 to become a calumniator." The Athenians, ashamed of 
 their intentions, yielded at once to the lesson of Demos- 
 thenes, and the object of their resentment was suffered to 
 escape. 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Men will wrangle for religion; write for it; fight for it; die 
 for it; any thing but live for it. Lacon. 
 
 The prospect of a future life is the secret comfort and 
 refreshment of my soul; it is that which makes nature look 
 gay about me ; it doubles all my pleasures, and supports me 
 under all my afflictions. I can look at disappointment and 
 misfortunes, pain and sickness, death itself, and what is 
 worse than death, the loss of those that are dearest to me, 
 with indifference, so long as I keep in view the pleasures 
 of eternity, and the state of being, in which there will be 
 no fear, nor apprehensions, pains nor sorrows, sickness nor 
 separation. Spectator. 
 
32 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Constantine the great, after his long and glorious reign, 
 his numerous battles and repeated triumphs, was at last 
 overtaken by sickness, and the hand of death lay heavy 
 upon him. It this condition, he sent for all the principal 
 officers of his army. They came and stood around his bed, 
 bathed in tears, deploring the loss which would make them, 
 as it were, orphans without a father, and fervent in their 
 prayers that the life of the emperor might be prolonged. 
 "Weep not my friends," he said, "the life I am soon to 
 enter, is the true life. I know full well the happiness that 
 awaits me, in another world. Weep not, for I am hasten- 
 ing to my God." 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey, the prime minister and favourite of 
 Henry VIII. after wielding for a long time the whole power 
 of England in the name of the king, and tasting all the hap- 
 piness that the possession of such a power, accompanied 
 with great wealth, could furnish, was at last suspected and 
 accused of high treason, and an order was issued for his arrest 
 and commitment to the tower of London, to await his trial. 
 The Duke of Northumberland presented the warrant 
 of arrest to the unfortunate prelate, who, without oppo- 
 sition, resigned himself -to his fate. The change in his 
 fortunes, the frowns of his sovereign, the contempt of 
 many who had once regarded him with fawning servility, 
 and perhaps too, the reproaches of his own conscience, 
 were too much for Wolsey to sustain. His spirit sunk 
 beneath the accumulated weight, and he died at Liecester, 
 on his way to London, in the sixtieth year of his age. A 
 short time before his death, he uttered these memorable 
 words: "Alas, if I had served my God, with the same 
 fidelity that I have served my king, he would not have thus 
 abandoned me in my old age." 
 
 Religion is so far from barring men any innocent pleasure 
 or comfort of human life, that it purifies the pleasures of it, 
 and renders them more grateful and generous ; and besides 
 this, it brings mighty pleasures of its own ; those of a glori- 
 ous hope, a serene mind, a calm and undisturbed con- 
 fidence, which do far outrelish the most studied and artifi- 
 cial luxuries. 
 
 The true spirit of religion cheers as well as supports 
 the soul. It is not the business of virtue to extirpate the 
 affections of man, but to regulate them. 
 
JRELIGION. 33 
 
 True religion 
 
 Is always mild, propitious too, and humble ; 
 Plays not the tyrant, plants no faith in blood, 
 Nor bears destruction on her chariot wheels : 
 But stoops to polish, succour, and redress, 
 And builds her grandeur on the public good. 
 
 Miller's Mahomet. 
 
 There are some few who pretend to believe, that thanks to 
 the Deity, for his care and protection of the very life which 
 they enjoy, are unbecoming, womanish, and fit only for the 
 aged and infirm. They would be religious, were religion 
 fashionable ; forgetting, that He, who is to be propitiated by 
 a pious gratitude, values the essence, and not the form, of 
 the worship which he receives. The example of one high 
 in rank, and celebrated in history, may not, perhaps, be 
 without its effect. When Gustavus Adolphus, of Sweden, 
 was encamped before Werben, one of his attendants, 
 entrusted with a message of great importance, waited for a 
 long time in the outer compartment of his tent, afraid to 
 disturb the king, who was alone in the interior chamber or 
 cabinet. Sensible, however, that the matter, with which he 
 was charged, admitted of no delay, he at last ventured to 
 remove the curtain, which separated him from Gustavus. 
 To his surprise, instead of finding the king engaged with 
 despatches, he saw him on his knees, apparently absorbed 
 in the most earnest prayer. The noise made by the rustling 
 of the canvas, attracted the attention of Gustavus, who, per- 
 ceiving that his attendant was about to retire, told him to 
 enter; and, observing that he was surprised at what he had 
 discovered of the devotions of the monarch, said to him, 
 "Thou wonderest to see me in this posture, since I have 
 so many thousands of subjects to pray for me : but I tell 
 thee, that no man has more need to pray for himself, than 
 he, who having to render an account of his actions to God 
 alone, is, for that reason, more closely assaulted by the devil, 
 than all other men beside. " 
 
 In a debate, which was held before Chosroes, king of 
 Persia, between the Indian and Greek philosophers, the 
 following question was proposed, "What is the greatest 
 misfortune in the world?" A Greek philosopher answered, 
 *■ an imbecile old age." An Indian said, "bodily, accompani- 
 4 
 
34 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 ed by mental pain ;" but the answer of the vizier was received 
 as the true reply, and ordered to be recorded by his master. 
 "The greatest misfortune of life," he said, "is to see the 
 approach of death, without being prepared, by a life of piety 
 and virtue, to meet it without fear. " 
 
 Rest unto onr souls ! 'Tis all we want, the end of all 
 our wishes and pursuits; give us a prospect of this, we take 
 the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of 
 the earth to have it in possession: We seek for it in titles, 
 and riches, and pleasures — climb up after it by ambition- 
 come down again and stoop for it by avarice — try all ex- 
 tremes. Still we are gone out of the way, nor is. it till after 
 many miserable experiments that we are convinced, at last, 
 that we have been seeking every where for it, but where there 
 is a prospect of finding it, and that is within ourselves, in a 
 meek and lowly disposition of heart. Sterne. 
 
 True devotion is the true source of repose: that only 
 has the power to support life and to sweeten death. 
 
 A firm trust in the assistance of an Almighty Being, na- 
 turally produces patience, cheerfulness, and all other dispo- 
 sitions of mind, that alleviate those calamities, which we 
 are not able to remove. 
 
 The expectation of future happiness is the best relief of 
 anxious thoughts, the most perfect cure of melancholy, the 
 guide of life, and the comfort of death. 
 
 When Anaximenes, the Greek philosopher, was confined 
 to prison under sentence of death, he sent for his books 
 and manuscripts, and pursued his studies with his usual 
 earnestness. The composed and dignified manners which 
 always distinguished him were not at all affected by the 
 certainty of immediate death, and many of his friends, who 
 visited him, seemed to stand more in need of consolation, 
 than did the philosopher himself. He was one day asked, 
 how he could pursue his studies so calmly, while awaiting 
 execution. Anaximenes answered, "That his soul was 
 not confined, having as large a walk as the heavens which 
 he studied : nor was he frightened at the thought of death ; 
 
RELIGION. , 36 
 
 having a hope, as great as the immortality which he looked 
 for." Anaximenes was one of those, who in the earliest 
 times, and long before the Christian dispensation, withdrew 
 his thoughts from the contemplation of the pleasures of this 
 world, and fixed them firmly upon those, which he believed 
 were to be expected in a future state of existence. 
 
 Alfred, king of England, surnamed the great, was defeat- 
 ed in battle by the Danes, who had invaded his kingdom, 
 and was obliged to retreat to Athelney, in Somersetshire, 
 where he remained, until his adherents, in different parts of 
 England, collected in sufficient force to make head against 
 the invaders, with any hopes of a successful issue. While 
 at Athelney, Alfred was frequently reduced to the greatest 
 straits. Very often, there were not sufficient provisions in 
 the castle for himself and his few attendants. On one oc- 
 casion in particular, when a beggar asked for food at the 
 gate, there was but one small loaf to be found, which was 
 brought to the monarch by his queen. "This," she said, 
 "is all that remains for the support of ourselves and retain- 
 ers; and yet there is one at our door, who wants it much, 
 and prays for food in the name of our common maker." 
 The king replied, "Give the poor Christian half the loaf. 
 He that could feed five thousand men, with five loaves and 
 two fishes, can certainly make that half of the loaf suffice 
 for more than our necessities." The pious confidence of 
 Alfred was not disappointed. He, in whose name the cha- 
 rity was asked and given, did not overlook the motive 
 which prompted it. Success soon crowned the efforts of 
 Alfred and his subjects ; and, freed from the pressure of his 
 enemies, the king, by the subsequent acts of his life, earned 
 the well-merited epithet of "the great," which has de- 
 scended to posterity, connected with his name. 
 
 Doctor Boerhaave, whose eminent talents and great ac- 
 quirements as a physician, procured for him a large share of 
 an extensive and very fatiguing practice, was one day asked, 
 how he contrived to bear up against the toil, mental and 
 bodily, to which he subjected himself. "My constitution 
 does much," he replied; "but there is another cause, to 
 which I owe much of my ability to support the labours of 
 my profession. When I first arise in the morning, it is my 
 habit to devote an hour to private prayer and meditation. 
 
36 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 It is this, which gives me spirit and vigour in the business of 
 the day. For nothing can tend more to the health of the 
 body, than the tranquillity of the mind ; and I know nothing, 
 which can support myself or my fellow creatures, amidst the 
 various distresses of life, but a well-grounded confidence in 
 the Supreme Being, upon the principles of Christianity." 
 Few remarks are more just than the above. A benevolent 
 manner of acting and a true greatness of soul, can never 
 flow fronTany other source, than a consciousness of the di- 
 vine favour and assistance. 
 
 Tired and worn out with the cares of royalty, Charles V. 
 of Germany, resigned the throne to his son Philip, and went 
 into retirement. His past life had been one of continued 
 excitement. He had struggled for eminence in the ways 
 of ambition, and had obtained it. At times, he had seen 
 himself the arbiter of the destinies of Europe ; and yet, in 
 reply to the questions which were asked him, he said, "That 
 he found more satisfaction, more content, in his monastic 
 solitude, and exercises of devotion to God, than all the 
 victories, and all the triumphs of his past life had ever 
 afforded him, though they made him esteemed the most for- 
 tunate -of princes." A tribute of respect to religion from 
 one, whose previous course had not always, indeed, been 
 governed by its precepts; but who appeared, at last, to have 
 found it his only sure dependence, 
 
 Constantius, the Roman emperor, left it in doubt to his 
 subjects for some time, whether he was a Christian or a 
 Pagan, and made use of their ignorance, to test the sincerity 
 of their religious professions. His colleagues were perse- 
 cuting the Christians, at this time, with fire and sword; and 
 Constantius, ordering the governors of the provinces and 
 the other officers under his controul, who were Christians, 
 to appear before him, told them, that, unless they would sa- 
 crifice to the Pagan Deities, and disavow their belief in any 
 other form of worship or superintending power, they should 
 suffer the severities of the law, then existing, against those 
 who would not conform to the religion of their ancestors. 
 Many of the Christians, with unhesitating firmness, pro- 
 fessed their readiness to meet death, rather than become 
 apostates to their creed : many martyys had already suffer- 
 ed, and more, it appeared, were ready to submit to the 
 
HELIGION. 37 
 
 sword- of the' flames. Others, who had hitherto passed for 
 Christians^ declared their willingness to return to the Pagan 
 idolatry, from which they had been converted, and seemed 
 to think, that the alternative of conformity or death, admit- 
 ted of but little doubt as to the choice to be made. When 
 they had all of them proclaimed their option, the emperor 
 discovered his real sentiments; avowed himself a Christian; 
 reproached, in the harshest terms, those who had denied 
 their religion ; highly extolled the virtue and constancy of 
 those, who despised the wealth, power, and pleasures of 
 the world, when in competition with their faith ; and 
 dismissed the former with ignominy, saying, "That those 
 who had betrayed their God, would not scruple to betray 
 their prince." He retained the latter, as persons on whom 
 he could implicitly rely; gave to them the goyernment of 
 the provinces, the administration of justice, and charged 
 them with the care and management of all public affairs. 
 
 Religion's all. Descending from the skies 
 To wretched man, the goddess, in her left, 
 Holds out this world, and, in her right, the next. 
 Religion! Providence! an after state! 
 Here is firm footing; here is solid rock! 
 This can support us ; all is sea besides. 
 His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
 And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Religion, like the treasure hid in the field, for which a 
 man sold all he had to purchase, is of that value that it 
 cannot be had at too great a cost ; since, without it, the 
 best condition of life cannot make us happy; and with 
 it, it is impossible that we should be miserable, even in the 
 worst. It supports a Christian under all the afflictions of 
 life ; the desertion of friends, the wreck of fortune, and the 
 loss of reputation; the separation of children who are 
 strongly linked to his heart; but, above all, perhaps the 
 wife of his bosom, his second self; yet he humbly submits 
 to the soul-rending strokes, and, with Job, says, "Though 
 he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Dodd. 
 
 ^ Sir John Mason, born during the reign of Henry VII. of 
 England, had been privy counsellor to Henry VIII., Ed- 
 
 4# 
 
m PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 ward VI. queen Mary and queen Elizabeth. He had mark- 
 ed and noted the changes and vicissitudes of the times, 
 and, with greater opportunities than fall to the lot of most 
 men, had made mankind his particular study. On his death 
 bed, he called his family and friends around him, and spoke 
 to them as follows: "Lo! here I have lived to see five 
 princes, and have been counsellor to four ; I have seen the 
 most remarkable things in foreign parts, and been present 
 at most state transactions for thirty years together ; and I 
 have learned this, after so many years experience, — that se- 
 riousness is the greatest wisdom; temperance the best phy- 
 sician ; and a good conscience the best estate. And, were 
 I to live again. I would exchange the court for a cloister ; 
 my privy counsellor's toils, for an hermit's retirement; and 
 the whole life I have lived in the palace, for one hour's en- 
 joyment of God in my closet. All things else forsake me 
 except my God, my duty, and my prayers." 
 
 Thy lustre, blest religion, can dispel 
 
 The clouds of error, and the glooms of hell ; 
 
 Tyrants to thee a change of nature owe, 
 
 Dismiss their tortures, and indulgent grow, 
 
 Ambitious conquerors, in their mad career, 
 
 Checked by thy voice, lay down the sword and spear* 
 
 The boldest champions of impiety, ) 
 
 Scornful of Heaven, subdued or won by thee, > 
 
 Before thy hallowed altars bend their knee. ) 
 
 Loose wits made wise, a public good become, 
 
 The sons of pride an humble mien assume, 
 
 The profligate in morals grow severe, 
 
 Defrauders just, and sycophants severe. Blackmore. 
 
 When Mahadi, caliph of Bagdad, made a pilgrimage to 
 Mecca, he was accompanied by the most splendid retinue ; 
 and daily, after the prayers in the mosque were concluded, 
 was in the habit of distributing gifts to those around him. 
 On one of these occasions he remarked that his grand vizi- 
 er, instead of asking for favours like the others, continued 
 upon his knees in silent prayer. Surprised at the singu- 
 larity of this, the caliph asked, "Why are you the only one, 
 who does not come to receive the usual presents?" "In 
 the house of God," replied the vizier, "It would be wrong 
 to ask for any thing but from him; and even then only to 
 
RELIGION. 39 
 
 beseech his mercy." Struck, with the piety of the reply, 
 Mahadi retired from the mosque, holding in higher esteem 
 than ever, the minister who had rebuked him. 
 
 Whitlock, the ambassador from England to the court of 
 Christina, queen of Sweden, had occasion one day to trans- 
 act some business with court Oxenstiern, the chancellor of 
 the kingdom After the immediate subject of the inter- 
 view was concluded, the conversation turned upon the 
 events of the past, and each detailed to the other the ex- 
 perience, which he had gleaned from it. Oxenstiern con- 
 cluded some remarks which he made, as follows; "I, sir, 
 have seen much, and enjoyed much of this world; but I 
 never knew how to live till now. I thank my God who has 
 given me time to know him, and likewise myself. All the 
 comfort I take, and which is more than the whole world can 
 give, is the knowledge of God's love in my heart, and the 
 reading of this blessed book"— laying his hand on a bible 
 near him. "You are now, sir," continued he, "In the 
 prime of your age and vigour, and in great favour and busi- 
 ness ; but this will all leave you, and you will one day better 
 understand and relish what I say to you. Then you will 
 find that there is more wisdom, truth, comfort and pleasure, . 
 in retiring and turning your heart from the world, in the 
 good spirit of God, and in reading his sacred word, than in 
 all the courts and all the favours of princes." 
 
 No man's body is as strong as his appetites; but Heaven 
 has corrected the boundlessness of his voluptuous desires, 
 by stinting his strength, and contracting his capacities. 
 The pleasure of the religious man, is an easy and portable 
 pleasure, such as he can carry about in his bosom. A man 
 putting all his treasures into this one, is like a traveller put- 
 ting all his goods into one jewel, the value is the same, and 
 the convenience greater. Tillotson. 
 
 We may twine the green wreath round the brow of the brave ; 
 
 We may tread in the footsteps of glory; 
 And fame, from oblivion, a record may save, 
 
 Which shall make us resplendent in story. 
 
 But, what is the wreath which the world holds so high? 
 
 Will it free us from care for the morrow ? 
 Will it dry the big tear-drop on misery's eye ? 
 
 Will it soften the throbbings of sorrow ? 
 
40 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 No ! — not in this world can we look for relief, 
 
 From those deeds which are blazoned in story, — 
 
 For the wound, which is made by the arrow of grief, 
 Is ne'er healed by the bandage of glory. 
 
 But to brighten the clouds, which may shadow our way, 
 
 The hope of eternity's given, 
 And the hand of religion unveils the pure ray, 
 
 Which must guide our weak footsteps to Heaven. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 A former duke of Orleans, thus expressed the delight he 
 found in piety and devotion: "I know, by experience, that 
 sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure, are deceitful 
 and vain, and are always infinitely below the conceptions 
 we form of them. But, on the contrary, such happiness, 
 and such complacency, may be found in devotion and 
 piety, as the sensual mind has no idea of." 
 
 Religion is such a sense of God in the soul, and our 
 obligation to, and dependence upon him, as to make it our 
 principal study to do that, which we think will be well 
 pleasing in his sight, and to avoid every thing which we 
 think will offend him. As he is the fountain of goodness 
 and justice ; of course religion must be the foundation of 
 all christian and moral virtue: to do good to all and to avoid 
 giving orTence to, or injuring willingly, even those who are 
 enemies and persecutors. Dodd. 
 
 When Alphonso, of Spain, instituted a new order of 
 knights, Don Pedro solicited and obtained the situation of 
 grand master. His object was to prevent his brother from 
 urging him to marry ; for the rules of this order required 
 perpetual celibacy, and Don Pedro already looked forward 
 to terminating his life in the cause of religion. After his 
 appointment as grand master, he persuaded Alphonso to 
 found the celebrated monastery of Alcobassa, in which, 
 having taken vows as a monk, Don Pedro performed his 
 duties to his God, with the same zeal and fidelity, with 
 which he had discharged his duties to his king. While a 
 monk of Alcobassa, an anecdote is related of him, of a sin- 
 gular character, shewing the severity of his religious ubser- 
 
RELIGION. 41 
 
 vances. Laurent. Viegas, an old friend and companion in 
 arms, visited the warrior monk in his solitary cell; and the 
 recollection of the hours of toil and danger, which they 
 had passed together, tempted both to go over the events 
 of the past, and thrice 
 
 " They fought their battles o'er again, 
 
 And thrice they slew the slain." 
 Viegas then retired, and the monk was left alone. Here, 
 as he meditated over the late interview, he became dissatis- 
 fied with the interest, which he had manifested in the 
 vanity of the world; he thought that he had sinned, in boast- 
 ing of former prowess, and had presumptuously raised him- 
 self above that humility, which was the only becoming char- 
 acteristic of the servant of God. His self-inflicted pen- 
 ance was singular. He imposed upon himself the restraint 
 of silence for seven months, during which time his brother 
 and his friends, in vain, attempted to induce him to abandon 
 his resolution. This penance over, he once more mingled 
 in conversation with those around him; but never again 
 allowed the recollections of the vanities of the past to inter- 
 fere with his religious humility. 
 
 While the conquests of Mahomet were yet extending 
 themselves under his successors, and the religion, which he 
 had invented, supported and enforced by the sword and 
 spear, was daily gaining ground, Monder, a Saracen king, 
 determined that all of his subjects should embrace the 
 creed of the prophet. The number of Christians in his 
 army restrained him, for a season, from carrying his design 
 into execution ; and he silently awaited the time, which pro- 
 mised him success in converting those, whom he deemed 
 heretics. This at last arrived; and he commanded that his 
 soldiers should become Mahometans, and tried to enforce his 
 orders in a harangue, which he delivered before them. 
 Scarcely, however, had he finished speaking, before an infe- 
 rior officer, a bold and intrepid man, stepped forth from the 
 ranks, and, in behalf of his fellow Christians, addressed the 
 monarch. "Consider, sire," he said, "that we were Chris- 
 tians before we were your subjects. In your armies we 
 have learned any thing but fear; and there lives not the 
 man, who can make us believe, what we do not believe, or 
 disguise that which we do believe ; and should the defence of 
 our religion terminate in blows, we will prove our truth on the 
 
42 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 bodies of our opponents." The firm demeanour of the 
 Christian warrior overcame the resolution of Monder, and 
 he permitted the Christians in his kingdom to enjoy, undis- 
 turbed, the exercise of their religion. 
 
 They that cry down moral honesty, cry down that, which 
 is a great part of my Teligion, my duty towards God and my 
 duty towards man. What care I if a man run after a ser- 
 mon, if he cozens and cheats "me, as soon as he comes 
 home? On the other side, morality must not be without 
 religion ; for if so, it may change as I see convenience. 
 Religion must govern it. He that has not religion to go- 
 vern his morality, is not a dram better than my" mastiff dog; 
 so long as you stroke him and please him, and do not pinch 
 him, he will play with you as fairly as may be; he is a very 
 good moral mastiff; but if you hurt him, he will fly in your 
 face, and tear out your throat. Seidell. 
 
 Religious Fortitude. The persecutions to which the 
 dissenters from the Church of England were subject, gave 
 to America some of the ablest citizens of her early history. 
 The Presbyterians founded and peopled the colonies of New 
 England, and the Quakers, under the guidance and direction 
 of the celebrated William Penn, laid the foundation of the pre- 
 sent State of Pennsylvania. The merit of these men appears 
 the more striking, when we compare the land to which they 
 came, with that from which they emigrated. The first, rich 
 in- all the native productions of the uncultivated earth, and 
 offering to the agriculturist the most abundant crops, was 
 still covered with the growth of its interminable forests; the 
 last was the burial place of their sires, the land of their 
 birth, the cradle of their affections. The comforts and 
 conveniences of civilized life were around them ; the means 
 of acquiring wealth were within their grasp, and their proper- 
 ty was protected from the sudden attack, the inevitable ruin, 
 of savage warfare. But then devotions to their God, after 
 their own fashion, were not uninterrupted; and it was liberty 
 of conscience, and freedom of religious worship, which they 
 sought and found in the wilds of America. Among the 
 circumstances which induced Penn to come to America, 
 was the following : 
 
 AVhen the meeting house of the Quakers, in Grace church 
 street, was taken possession of by a body of soldiers, 
 
RELIGION. 43 
 
 August 15th, 16*70, with the view of hindering them from 
 assembling to worship God, in their own way; their leader, 
 William Penn, went and preached to them in the open air, in 
 the immediate vicinity. This was construed into a breach 
 of the peacej and Penn, and an associate, named Mead, 
 were arrested, indicted, and tried for the imputed offence. 
 Penn and his friend, agreeably to the custom of their sect, 
 entered the court with their hats on ; and, on one of the offi- 
 cers pulling them off, the Lord Mayor, who presided at the 
 trial, exclaimed, "Sirrah! who bid you put off their hats? 
 Put on their hats again." Recorder to the prisoners. "Do 
 you know where you are? Do you not know that it is the 
 king's court?" Penn. "I know it is a court; and I suppose 
 it to be the king's court." Recorder. "Do you not know 
 that there is respect due to the court, and why do you not 
 pull off your hats?" Penn. "Because I do not believe that 
 to be any respect." Recorder. "Well, the court sets forty 
 marks a piece upon your heads, as a fine for your contempt 
 of the court." Penn. "I desire it may be observed, that 
 we came into the court with our hats off, (that is, taken off;) 
 and if they have been put on since, it was by order of the 
 bench; and therefore not we, but the bench, should be 
 fined." After the witnesses for the prosecution had been 
 examined, and the prisoners were called upon for their de- 
 fence, Penn demanded to know, upon what law the indict- 
 ment was grounded. Recorder. " Upon the common law." 
 Penn. "Where is that common law?" Recorder. "You 
 must not think, that I am able to sum up so many years, 
 and ever so many adjudged cases, which we call common 
 law, to answer your curiosity." Penn. "This answer I am 
 sure is very short of my question; for, if it be common, it 
 should not be so hard to produce." Recorder. "Sir, will 
 you plead to your indictment?" Penn reiterated his de- 
 mand, to know on what law that indictment was found- 
 ed. Recorder. "You are a saucy fellow; speak to the 
 indictment." After some further altercation. Recorder. 
 "You are an impertinent fellow: will you teach the court 
 what law is? It is lex non scripta; that which many have 
 studied thirty or forty years to know ; and would you 
 have me to tell you in a moment?" Penn. " Certainly, if the 
 common law is so hard to be understood, it is far from being 
 common: but, if the Lord Coke, in his institutes, be of any 
 consideration, he tells us that common law is common right, 
 and that common right is the great charter of privileges. I 
 
44 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 design no affront to the court: but to be heard in my just 
 plea; and I must plainly tell you, that if you will deny me a 
 knowledge or view of the law, which you say I have broken, 
 you do at once deny me an acknowledged right, and evi- 
 dence Jo the whole world your resolution to sacrifice the 
 privileges of Englishmen to your sinister and arbitrary de- 
 signs." Recorder. "Take him away." Lord Mayor. "Take 
 him away ! Take him away ! Take him into the bail dock." 
 Penn was now dragged into the bail dock. Mead being 
 then called on, a scene exactly similar to the preceding 
 took place, and he also was thrust into the bail dock. The 
 recorder charged the jury to bring in a verdict of guilty. 
 Penn (with a loud voice from the bail dock.) " I appeal to the 
 jury who are my judges, and this great assembly, whether 
 the proceedings of the court are not most arbitrary, and void 
 of all law. I have not been heard, neither can you of the 
 jury legally depart the court, before I have been fully 
 heard." Recorder. "Pull the fellow down, pull him down." 
 The jury were now desired to go up stairs, in order to agree 
 upon a verdict, and the prisoners remained in the bail dock. 
 After an hour and a half had elapsed, eight came down 
 agreed, but four remained above, until sent for. The bench 
 used many threats to the four who had dissented, and the 
 recorder, addressing himself to one of them of the name of 
 Bushell, said, "Sir, you are the cause of this disturbance, 
 and manifestly show yourself an abettor of faction ; I shall 
 set a mark upon you. Alderman Sir J. Robinson, lieuten- 
 ant of the tower. "Mr. Bushell, I have known you almost 
 fourteen years, you have thrust yourself upon this jury." Al- 
 derman Bludworth. "Mr. Bushell, we know what you are." 
 Lord Mayor. "Sirrah, you are an impudent fellow: I will 
 put a mark upon you." The jury, being then sent back to 
 consider their verdict, remained for some time ; and on their 
 return, the clerk having asked in the usual manner, "Is 
 William Penn guilty of the matter wherein he stands in- 
 dicted, or not guilty?" the foreman replied, "Guilty of 
 speaking in Grace Chuich street." Court. "Is that all." 
 Foreman. "That is all I have in commission." Recorder. 
 "You had as good say nothing." The jury were again 
 ordered out to reconsider their verdict* They declared, 
 that they had given in their verdict and could give in no 
 other. They withdrew, however, after demanding pen, ink, 
 and paper ; and returning at the expiration of half an hour, 
 the foreman addressed himself to the clerk of the peace, and 
 
RELIGION. 45 
 
 presenting the following written decision, said, "here is our 
 verdict." We the jurors hereafter named, do find William 
 Penn to be guilty of speaking or preaching to an assembly 
 met together in Grace Church street, on the 14th August, 
 1670, and that William Mead is not guilty of the said indict- 
 ment, &c. Foreman, Thomas Veer, Ed. Bushell, &c. 
 
 Recorder. "Gentlemen, you shall not be dismissed until 
 we have a verdict, that the court will accept; and you shall 
 be locked up without meat, drink, fire, or tobacco; you 
 shall not think thus to abuse the court. We will have a 
 verdict by the help of God, or you shall starve for it." Penn. 
 "My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus me- 
 naced. I do desire that justice may be done me ; and that 
 the arbitrary resolves of the bench may not be made the 
 measure of my jury's verdict." Recorder. " Stop that prat- 
 ing fellow." Penn. "The agreement of twelve men is a 
 verdict in law ; and such a one being given by the jury, I 
 require the clerk of the peace to record it, as he will answer 
 at his peril; and if the jury bring in another verdict, contra- 
 dictory to this, I affirm they are perjured men in law." 
 Then looking towards them he emphatically added, "You 
 are Englishmen; mind your privilege; give not away your 
 right." The court now swore several of its officers to keep 
 the jury all night, without meat, drink, fire, &C. and ad- 
 journed. Next morning, which happened to be Sunday, 
 the jury were again brought up, when having persevered in 
 their verdict, much abuse was heaped upon them, particu- 
 larly on the " factious fellow Bushell." Bushell observed, that 
 he had acted "conscientiously." The expression called 
 forth some very sarcastic jeers from the court, who being 
 still determined not to yield the point, sent back the jury a 
 third time. The jury were, however, inflexible ; a third 
 time they returned with the same verdict. The recorder, 
 at this, greatly incensed and perplexed, threatened Bushell 
 with the weight of his vengeance ; while he had any thing 
 to do with the city, he would have an eye upon him. The 
 lord Mayor termed him a " pitiful fellow," and added, "I 
 will cut his nose for this." Penn. "'Tis intolerable that 
 my jury should be thus menaced." Lord Mayor. "Stop 
 his mouth, gaoler! Bring him fetters and stake him to the 
 ground." Penn. "Do your pleasure, I matter not your fet- 
 ters." The court determined to make one trial more of the 
 firmness of the jury. The foreman remonstrated in vain, 
 that any other verdict would be a force on them, to save 
 5 
 
46 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 their lives ; and the jury refused to leave the court, until 
 obliged by the sheriff. The court sat again next morning at 
 seven o'clock, when the-prisoners and the jury were brought 
 up again, for the fourth time. The clerk. "Is William Penn 
 guilty or not guilty ?" Foreman. "Not guilty." Clerk. "Is 
 William Mead guilty or not guilty ?" Foreman. "Not guilty." 
 Recorder. "lam sorry, gentlemen, you have followed your 
 own judgments and opinions, rather than the good and 
 wholesome advice that was given you. God keep my life 
 out of your hands ! But for this the court fines you forty 
 marks a man, and commands imprisonment till paid." Both 
 jury and prisoners were forced together into the bail dock, 
 for non-payment of their fines, whence they were carried to 
 Newgate. Mr. Bushell immediately sued out a writ of 
 habeas corpus; and the cause coming to be heard at 
 length before the twelve judges, they decided that the fining 
 and imprisonment were contrary to law. The jury were 
 accordingly discharged ; on which they respectively brought 
 actions against the lord mayor, alderman, and recorder, 
 and obtained exemplary verdicts. 
 
 The above story is not less remarkable on account of the 
 firmness exhibited by Penn and his companion, and as an 
 instance of the oppression to which dissenters were subject, 
 than as a proud example of the admirable system of trial by 
 jury. Bushell and the other eleven jurors stood between 
 Penn and arbitrary power, and by their firmness saved him 
 from a punishment, which would have been as unjust to 
 the prisoner, as it would have been disgraceful to the laws, 
 under the sanction of which, it was meant to be inflicted. 
 
 Although the life of Abderamah, the Moorish king of 
 Cordova, was one continued round of prosperity, neverthe- 
 less, his wishes do not appear to have been fulfilled; for 
 after his death, the following note, written in his own hand, 
 was found among his papers. 
 
 "I have now reigned upwards of fifty years, in victory or 
 in peace, loved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies, 
 and respected by my allies. Wealth, honour, power and 
 pleasure, have anticipated my wishes, and no earthly good 
 has appeared wanting to my happiness. During this period, 
 having carefully enumerated those days, during which I 
 have been really and truly happy, I have counted but four- 
 teen. Oh man, place not thy confidence, rest not thy 
 hopes on earth!" 
 
RELIGION. 47 
 
 Superstition. In direct opposition to true religion is 
 superstition 
 
 As if the natural calamities of life were not sufficient for 
 it, we turn the most indifferent circumstances into mis- 
 fortunes, and suffer as much from trifling accidents as 
 from real evils. I have known the shooting of a star 
 spoil a night's rest, and have seen a man in love grow 
 pale, and lose his appetite, upon the plucking of a merry 
 thought. A screech owl at midnight has alarmed a family 
 more than a band of robbers ; nay, the voice of a cricket 
 hath struck more terror than the roaring of a lion. There 
 is nothing so inconsiderable, which may not appear dread- 
 ful to an imagination, which is filled with omens and prog- 
 nostics; a rusty nail or a crooked pin shoot up into pro- 
 digies. Addison. 
 
 There is no cruelty so inexorable and unrelenting as that, 
 which proceeds from a bigoted and presumptuous supposi- 
 tion of doing service to God. Under the influence of such 
 hallucination, all common modes of reasoning are perverted, 
 and all general principles are destroyed. The victim of the 
 fanatical persecutor will find, that the stronger the motives 
 he can urge for mercy are, the weaker will be his criance 
 of obtaining it ; for the merit of his destruction will be sup- 
 posed to rise in value, in proportion as it is effected at the 
 expense of every feeling, both of justice and of humanity. 
 Had the son of Philip II. of Spain been condemned by the 
 inquisition, his own father, in default of any other execu- 
 tioner, would have carried the faggots and set fire to the 
 pile. And in the atrocious murder of Archbishop Sharp, it 
 is well known, that Balfour and his party did not meet to- 
 gether at Gillston Muir for the purpose of assassinating the 
 Archbishop, but to slay one Carmichael, a magistrate. 
 These misguided men were actuated, (to use their own 
 words) "by a strong outletting of the spirit," shortly to be 
 manifested by the outletting of innocent blood; and one 
 Smith, a weaver at the Strutherdyke, an inspired man, had 
 also encouraged them, "all to go forward, seeing that God's 
 glory was the only motive, that was moving them to offer 
 themselves to act for his broken down word." These men, 
 not happening to find Carmichael, were on the point of dis- 
 persing, when a lad running up, suddenly informed them, that 
 the coach of Archbishop Sharp was then coming on, upon 
 
43 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 the road between Ceres and Blebo hole. " Truly," said they, 
 "this is of God; and it seemeth that God has delivered him 
 into our hands ; let us not draw back, but pursue him ;" for all 
 looked upon it, considering the former circumstance, as a 
 clear call from God to fall upon him. We may anticipate 
 what tender mercies the Archbishop might count upon, from 
 such a host of enthusiasts ; and the circumstance of a pre- 
 late murdered at the feet of his daughter, with the curious 
 conversation that accompanied this act, only prove, that 
 fanatical superstition is of the same malignant type and 
 character, whether she be engendered in the clan or in the 
 conclave, the Kirk or the Cathedral. Lacon. 
 
 The most singular instance of superstition and credulity 
 on record, is the firm belief in witchcraft, held for some 
 time, by the early settlers of New England. It was at the 
 town of Salem, that the excitement first began; and arose 
 from the ignorance of one Paris, who, having two daughters 
 afflicted with convulsions, conceived the idea, that they 
 were Under the spells of witches, and fixed upon an inno- 
 cent Indian girl as the cause of their illness. The Indian 
 was seized, beaten most cruelly, and at last committed to 
 prison, from which she was, after some time, sold as a slave, 
 to pay the fees, due to the gaoler, for her unjust detention. 
 The neighbours of Paris now began to feel the same excite- 
 ment on the subject of witches, and attributed all complaints 
 to their machinations. The belief spread with incredible 
 rapidity, not only among the illiterate and poor, but among 
 the learned and the rich, A clergyman of exemplary piety 
 was executed on the most trivial testimony. Sixteen per- 
 sons, all equally innocent, suffered the same fate. One, who 
 refused to defend himself from the charge, on the ground of 
 its futility, was pressed to death. Others were subject to 
 horrid tortures, to induce them to confess who were their 
 accomplices ; and their innocent fellow citizens, whom they 
 named at random, to obtain a momentary respite from tor-, 
 ture, were instantly brought to the stake, the gallows, or the 
 block. Juries, who found the accused innocent, were com- 
 manded by the judges to resume their deliberations, and, 
 under pain of punishment, to find them guilty. Terror was 
 upon the land. Character did not protect, wealth could not 
 defend, those, who were suspected. At last the families 
 of those who led the persecution, were attacked by the 
 
JUSTICE. 49 
 
 informers. The horrors of the superstition were brought 
 home upon its abettors ; and the excitement subsided almost 
 as fast as it had arisen. But New England, with her eyes 
 at last opened to the folly of her deeds, mourned long and 
 truly the citizens, who had fallen victims to a temporary and 
 miserable fanaticism. 
 
 In removing superstition, care should be had, that, as it 
 passeth in all passages, the good be not taken away with 
 the bad ; which is commonly done when the people is the 
 physician. Bacon. 
 
 JUSTICE. 
 
 "Justice is that habit of the mind, which induces men at 
 all times to render every person his due." Thus thought 
 that king of Sparta, who, hearing those around him boast of 
 the prizes, which they had won at the Olympian games, that 
 were held every five years at Elis, answered, "Is there any- 
 thing wonderful or uncommon, that a nation should perform 
 one act of justice in five years." To be just, he thought, was 
 such a common act of duty, as to merit neither praise nor 
 congratulation. 
 
 He who wants justice, and has wit, judgment or valour, 
 will, for the having wit, judgment or valour, be the more ab- 
 horred; because the more wit, judgment or valour he has, 
 if he want justice, the more certainly will he become a 
 wicked man : and he, who wants justice and has power, 
 will for the having power be the more abhorred, because the 
 more power he has, if he wants justice, the more he will cer- 
 tainly become a wicked man. Buckingham, 
 
 Charicles, the son-in-law of Phocion, the Athenian gene- 
 ral, was publicly charged with having embezzled the publie 
 money. Charicles, turning towards his father-in-law, seemed 
 to intreat his intercession in his favour. But Phocion was 
 unmoved. "I have made you my son-in-law," he said, 
 V but only for what is just and honourable." 
 5* 
 
50 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Two persons once came before Aristides to settle a dis- 
 pute, when one of them began to relate the wrongs, which the 
 other had attempted to do to Aristides himself; hoping in 
 this way, to prejudice his mind against his adversary, and to 
 obtain a decision in his favour. " Relate rather, good friend,'* 
 said the upright judge, interrupting him, " what wrong he 
 hath done to thee ; for it is thy cause and not mine, which 
 I am now to determine.' * 
 
 Simonides, the poet of Chios, having a cause to try be- 
 fore Aristides, presuming upon his intimacy, requested that 
 a point might be stretched in his favour; in other words, that 
 the cause might be decided for him, without reference to the 
 law. Aristides however, replied ; " As you would not be a 
 good poet, if your lines ran contrary to the just measures and 
 rules of your art, so I should neither be a good judge nor an 
 honest man, if I decided aught in opposition to law and 
 justice." 
 
 During the reign of the thirty tyrants in Athens, Socrates, 
 called for his wisdom and virtue the Divine Socrates, was 
 summoned before them, and ordered, with certain others, to 
 seize and bring into their presence, one Leon, a man of for- 
 tune, whom they had determined to put out of the way, that 
 they might enjoy his wealth, by dividing it among them. 
 Socrates sternly refused to perform the duty assigned to him, 
 declaring, "that nothing should ever induce him to commit 
 an unjust act/' "And do you think to pass through life 
 undisturbed^ while upholding such sentiments ?" said Chari- 
 cles to the philosopher : "I do not," was his reply: "I 
 expect to suffer a thousand ills ; but at least, I can avoid the 
 greatest of all, the commission of injustice." 
 
 When Frederick, of Prussia, was building the palace 
 of Sans Souci, he discovered, that the plan, which he had 
 adopted for his gardens, would be.much interfered with by a 
 mill, which he therefore determined to remove. Having 
 sent for the miller, he asked him what sum he would take for 
 the mill, naming at the same time its full value. The man 
 refused. The monarch doubled and trebled the sum, and 
 at last offered to build another mill, in a better situation, in- 
 dependent of the price of the old one. Still the miller refus- 
 ed to bargain. The mill, he said, had been in the posses-*. 
 
JUSTICE. 51 
 
 sion of his great-grandfather, and he was determined to trans- 
 mit it to his children, as it had descended to him. At last 
 Frederick became provoked, and told the man, that he was 
 silly to refuse his offers of payment, as it was in his power to 
 obtain the mill by force, without any compensation. "Not 
 while there is a court of justice at Berlin," answered the mil- 
 ler steadily ; alluding to the court established by Frederick 
 himself, for the redress of injuries. The monarch was 
 pleased at the frank reply ; because it intimated a confidence 
 in his integrity and justice, and resolving to leave the mill 
 untouched, altered at once the plan of his gardens. 
 
 Similar to the above is the following. 
 
 In the garden of Abbas Mirza, the crown prince of Per- 
 sia, the heir apparent to the throne, Moritz Von Kotzebue, 
 attached to the Russian embassy, one day perceived a por- 
 tion of an old wall, which assorted but ill with the rest of the 
 inclosure, and disfigured the appearance of that part of the 
 garden. He asked Abbas Mirza, why he had permitted it 
 to remain there, when so much labour and expense had 
 been bestowed, every where else, in the most costly erections. 
 " Why, to tell you the truth," replied the prince, "that bit 
 of wall belongs to an old man, from whom I can neither buy 
 nor purchase it. He persists in keeping it ; and although I 
 might easily enough possess myself of it by force, and no 
 one wonder or say nay to me ; yet I admire the reverence, 
 which the old man pays to his paternal property, and I must 
 be satisfied with letting his wall remain where it is, to the 
 injury of my garden, until I find one of his heirs who will be 
 more reasonable than he is." A striking instance of justice 
 and forbearance in one, whose will was law, and whose edu- 
 cation was certainly not the best adapted to inculcate prin- 
 ciples of moderationand self controul. 
 
 After the war of the American Revolution a motion was 
 made in the Legislature of Carolina, to exempt from legal 
 investigation the conduct of the partizan companies of mili- 
 tia, and, among others, the corps of General Marion ; it being 
 thought, that the value of their services more than compen- 
 sated for any irregularities, which they might have been led 
 to commit. Marion was present, and a member of the 
 house. He immediately rose, and with honest indignation, 
 
52 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS- 
 
 required his name to be stricken from the resolve ; ll For," 
 said he, " if in the course of command, I have in a single in- 
 stance departed from the strict line of propriety, or given 
 the slightest cause of complaint to any individual, justice 
 requires that I should suffer for it." 
 
 A friend of General Marion's, of high standing and respec- 
 tability, whose public services had been great, availing him- 
 self of the unsettled state of the country, and hoping that 
 his reputation would bear him through, refused to submit to 
 the sheriff, who came to arrest him for an offence against 
 the laws. He sent for Marion. "Deliver yourself," said the 
 general, after hearing the story, " into the hands of the sher- 
 iff: submit to be conducted to goal, and my heart and hand 
 are yours. Refuse to do so, and trust, by the influence of 
 friendship, to elude justice, and the line of separation is for 
 ever drawn between us." 
 
 Soliman II. was riding one morning at an early hour, 
 when a woman with dishevelled hair, and in disordered gar- 
 ments, threw herself before his horse and demanded justice. 
 "Your soldiers, commander of the faithful," she exclaimed, 
 "have, during the night, robbed and pillaged my house. 
 Where shall I now fly to ? Where shall I find my children, 
 my property, or my food ?" The Sultan smiled and answer- 
 ed, " you must have slept soundly indeed my good woman, 
 not to have been aroused by the noise, which the plunder of 
 your dwelling must have occasioned." " Yes" replied the 
 woman, " I slept indeed most soundly, for I believed that 
 your highness watched over the safety of all your subjects, 
 by night, as well as in the day time." Soliman was struck 
 with the lesson conveyed in the answer of the woman, and 
 he immediately ordered, that the property, which had been 
 taken away should be restored, together with a large present, 
 to recompense the inconvenience and anxiety, which the 
 robbery had occasioned to the sufferer. Grateful too, for the 
 admonition, which had been so unexpectedly given to him, 
 and willing to impress upon his memory his duty to his sub- 
 jects, he exempted the village, in which the woman lived, 
 from all taxes for her sake. 
 
 In the dead of night, the dwelling of an Arab was entered, 
 and his family grievously insulted. The injured man threw 
 
JUSTICE. 53 
 
 himself at the feet of the Sultan on the following day, and 
 besought redress. The monarch ordered the offenders to be 
 brought before him, with their features concealed in hoods. 
 They did not deny the story of the Arab, and they were ac- 
 cordingly condemned to instant death. After the execution, 
 the hoods were removed, and the Sultan, gazing steadily on 
 them for some moments, fell on his knees, raised his hands 
 to heaven, and appeared absorbed in silent prayer. " What 
 cause of joy or sorrow does my lord find in the destruc- 
 tion of these miscreants," said one of the principal atten- 
 dants, when the monarch arose. "Greater joy than you 
 can conceive," was the reply. " I expected that my own 
 best beloved son might have been concerned in the perpe- 
 tration of the crime. I had the faces of the offenders con- 
 cealed therefore from my sight, lest paternal feeling might 
 interfere with the performance of my duty. And ought I 
 not to be thankful, when I discover that my son is, this time, 
 at least, innocent of offence. 
 
 How few men, who have had sovereign power in their 
 hands for many years, can take the dying oath of John de 
 Castro. This Portuguese general, who represented his so- 
 vereign in India, who ejij^g ^ nc mogt exc iusive facilities 
 tor the acquisition of wealth, and whose predecessors had 
 amassed princely fortunes, sent for the chief persons of his 
 government, and among others the celebrated Xaxier, a short 
 time before his death, and placing his hand upon the Holy 
 Evangely, said, "I swear solemnly, that I have never appro- 
 priated to my own use, the property of my king nor of his 
 subjects under my controul ; neither have I ever received a 
 present from an individual. At times, when my salary has 
 not been paid, I have employed my patrimony in the ser- 
 vice of the state; until now, at my dying hour, I have not 
 wherewith to furnish the luxuries enjoyed by soldiers in the 
 hospitals. The food prescribed by my physician, I cannot 
 purchase. In my extreme poverty, therefore, I beg that I 
 may be supported at the public expense, for the few hours 
 that I have yet to live." Soon afterwards he died, and the 
 only property which he left was three rials ; so careless had 
 De Castro been of his own interest, while engaged in the ser- 
 vice of his sovereign. 
 
 A merchant of London, being indebted in a considerable 
 eym, which he had neglected to pay, although often request- 
 
54 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 ed to do so, was one day arrested by his creditor, on the 
 Royal Exchange. He was taken before Lord Mansfield, 
 then Chief Justice, and when there, complained bitterly of 
 his arrest ; which he said, was injurious to his character as a 
 mercantile man, having taken place on the Exchange, the 
 most public place in London, and in the presence of the mer- 
 chants, who were then assembled there. He continued in 
 this strain for some time, until he was interrupted by Lord 
 Mansfield, saying, " Friend you forget yourself. You were 
 the defaulter, in refusing to pay a just debt; and let me give- 
 to you a piece of advice, worth more than the debt and costs. 
 Be careful in future not to put it in any man's power to ar- 
 rest you for a just debt, in public or in private." 
 
 During the reign of Henry VIII. Sir Thomas Moore was 
 Lord Chancellor, and, iri this character, ordered a nobleman 
 to pay a sum of money to a poor woman, whom he had 
 wronged. " I hope your honour," said the nobleman, when 
 he heard the sentence against him, "that you will give me 
 a long day to pay this debt," meaning a long respite from 
 the payment. " By all means," replied the chancellor, " to- 
 morrow is St. Barnabas day, the longest day in the year, and 
 unless the money is paid before it is over ? you may make 
 your preparations for commitment to prison." It scarcely 
 need be added, that the money was paid. 
 
 When Tarquin was banished from Rome, Brutus and 
 Collatinus were made consuls by the people; and swore 
 that the Tarquins should never be recalled, and that death 
 should be the penalty of those, who attempted the restora- 
 tion of the monarchy. A year, however, had scarcely elapsed 
 after the expulsion of the tyrant, before a conspiracy was 
 discovered among the young men of Rome, to reinstate the 
 dethroned monarch and destroy the newly formed republic. 
 Among the chief conspirators were the two sons of Brutus, 
 the consul. On the morning after the conspirators were 
 seized, they were brought before Brutus, then seated in 
 judgment. The proofs, consisting of letters in their own 
 hand writing, declaring their intentions and naming their 
 accomplices, were then exhibited, and left no doubt of their 
 guilt. Until then, the surrounding spectators had hoped, 
 that some deficiency, some doubt even in the testimony, would 
 free the father from the dreadful duty, which devolved upon 
 
JUSTICE, 55 
 
 him; and now, when all hope of this had vanished, the cry of 
 "Banishment, banishment," which rung from the multitude, 
 shewed their wish, that Brutus might be saved from the con- 
 demnation of his own sons. The feelings of the stern father 
 struggled, with violence, against the performance of the sad 
 duty which he owed to the republic: but justice and patriotism 
 at last prevailed; and with an unmoved countenance, he or- 
 dered the young men to execution, amid the groans and tears 
 of the surrounding Romans. Other culprits, high in rank, and 
 young and popular, suffered at the same time, and for the 
 same offence with the sons of Brutus: but their death was 
 almost unnoticed, so absorbed were the spectators in the 
 contemplation of the devoted justice of their consul. 
 
 In 1526, an Irish merchant exhibited an example of in- 
 flexible justice, rivalling the conduct of the ancient Brutus. 
 James Lynch Fitzstephen, then mayor of Galway, sent a 
 ship to Bilboa, in Spain, for a cargo of wine. He gave the 
 command of her to his son, with ample funds for the intended 
 purchase. On the arrival of the young Fitzstephen in Spain, 
 he delivered his letters of introduction to his father's cor- 
 respondent, and procuring the wine upon credit, secreted 
 the money, with which he had been entrusted. The Spaniard, 
 who had given him credit, sent his son to Ireland with Fitz- 
 stephen, intending that he should receive the debt and 
 establish a further correspondence. The two young men 
 sailed with much apparent satisfaction, and on the voyage 
 became extremely intimate. As they neared Ireland, how- 
 ever, the dread of discovery became so great, that Fitz- 
 stephen determined to murder his friend, who was the only 
 witness against him, and had the address to persuade the 
 crew to join him in the commission of the crime. The 
 Spaniard was thrown overboard, and soon afterwards, the 
 vessel arrived safe in port. "The elder Fitzstephen received 
 his son with the greatest kindness; the wine sold to great 
 advantage ; and the young man, before long, found himself in 
 a situation to commence a lucrative trade. Security had 
 now lulled every sense of danger, and he paid his addresses, 
 with success, to a beautiful girl, the daughter of one of his 
 neighbours. The day was appointed, and every preparation 
 made, for their marriage, when his father received a letter 
 from one of the sailors on the Spanish voyage, informing 
 him of every particular of the murder committed by his eon. 
 
56 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 For a time he was lost in speechless astonishment and hor- 
 ror. His first words were, "Justice shall take its course;" 
 and discarding the feelings of a parent, he ordered the of- 
 fenders to be committed immediately to prison. A criminal 
 prosecution was commenced ; they were found guilty on 
 their own confession : and the duty of Brutus devolved upon 
 the unfortunate father. He fulfilled it with equal firmness. 
 The tears and entreaties of friends and relatives cbuld not 
 turn him from his purpose, and his son was sentenced by 
 him to death. Deeply commiserating his agonized feel- 
 ings, some of his friends determined to rescue the prison- 
 ers from jail, as the only means of saving their lives, and 
 believing that such a step would meet with no opposition 
 from the father. But the elder Fitzstephen, heard of their 
 intentions, and had his son brought to his own house, and 
 closely guarded, until the day of execution. In the morning 
 they received the holy communion together, exchanged 
 mutual forgiveness, and, in a few minutes more, the unfor- 
 tunate young man was launched into eternity. 
 
 The father immediately resigned his office, and on his 
 death, which took place not long after his son's, the inhabi- 
 tants of Galway fixed over the door of the house a marble 
 slab, to perpetuate the remembrance of this signal act of 
 Justice. 
 
 "The Gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 
 Make instruments to scourge us." King Lear. 
 
 Casimir II. King of Poland, was one evening playing cards 
 with an officer, named Konarski. The stakes were high and 
 fortune was upon the side of the king. The excitement was 
 great, and at last the officer found himself, by one fatal cast 
 of the die, reduced to beggary. He forgot that his sovereign 
 was his antagonist; and he forgot, which was the greater 
 forgetfulness of the two, the respect, which was due to him- 
 self; and he struck the king a violent blow, in the recrimina- 
 tory conversation, which followed the game. He immedi- 
 ately fled, sensible of the punishment of his act. He was 
 pursued however, and after some time discovered and tried. 
 Before his judges, he could have no hope of acquittal. The 
 offence was clearly proven; and he was condemned to 
 death. Up to this time, the king had not interfered in the 
 matter, not even to give his testimony ; for the charge was 
 
JUSTICE. 67 
 
 proved by ethers, who saw the blow given and received. 
 Casimir now sent for Konarski, and received him surrounded 
 by his courtiers, "I am not surprised," said the king, "at 
 the conduct of this gentleman. Not being able to revenge 
 himself on fortune, it is not to be wondered at, that he ill- 
 treated his friend. I am the only one, however, who is to 
 blame in this affair; for I ought not, by my example, to en- 
 courage a pernicious practice, which may be the ruin of my 
 nobility." Then turning to the criminal, and drawing from 
 his bosom the gold and notes, which he had won from him 
 at the fatal game, he said, "You, I perceive, are sorry for 
 your fault:— that is sufficient: take your money again, and 
 let us renounce gaming forever. We have both received a 
 lesson, which will not be easily forgotten." And Casimir 
 and his subject never relapsed into the practice of gaming. 
 
 When the emperor Trajan appointed Sabarranus captain 
 of his guards, he used this memorable sentence, on present- 
 ing him with the sword which was the badge of his office. 
 "Pro me; si merear, in me." "Wield this sword in my 
 cause; but if I am unworthy, turn it against me." 
 
 A Persian, who wished to obtain a favour from Artaxerxes, 
 applied to one of the officers of the court to solicit it, and, 
 at the same time, promised him a large sum of money in 
 case he was successful. On inquiring into the matter, 
 Artaxerxes discovered, that to grant the favour asked would 
 be unjust to another of his subjects. He also heard the 
 motive, which occasioned the importunity of his officer. He 
 immediately sent for him, and handing to him a bag contain- 
 ing a sum, equal to that, which he was to have received, 
 said, "Take this, which does not make me at all poorer 
 to bestow; whereas, should I grant what you have asked 
 of me, I should be poor indeed, for I should be unjust." 
 
 The son of a grocer in the city of Smyrna, by dint of 
 honesty and industry, rose to the situation of inspector of 
 weights and measures, with full power to punish all the 
 dealers, who violated the standard. His father was well 
 known in the neighbourhood to make use of false weights ; 
 and when it was understood, that the inspector was comino- 
 round on his first visit, the friends of the grocer intreatei). 
 6 
 
58 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 him not to run the risk of punishment, but to procure true 
 weights. The father laughed at the idea of receiving pun- 
 ishment at the hands of his son, and thinking himself per- 
 fectly secure, quietly awaited his arrival. "Good man," 
 said the inspector, "bring me your weights and measures, 
 that I may examine them." The other attempted to treat 
 the demand as a jest, and refused to obey. Persisting in 
 his refusal, force was at last employed, and the weights 
 were produced and examined. They were found to be so 
 much below the standard, that the grocer was fined fifty 
 piastres, and sentenced to receive the same number of bas- 
 tinadoes. After this last punishment had been inflicted on 
 the spot, the inspector threw himself from his horse, and 
 falling at the feet of his father, bathed them in his tears. 
 "Father," he said, "I have discharged my duty to my God, 
 my country and my sovereign ; permit me now, by my re- 
 spect and submission, to discharge the duty which I owe to 
 a parent. Justice is blind. It is the power of God on 
 earth, and has no respect to the ties of kindred or connex- 
 ion. You had offended against the laws of justice, and 
 you deserved this punishment. Behave better for the future, 
 and instead of censuring me, pity me on being reduced to 
 so cruel a necessity." 
 
 With an equal scale 
 He weighs the offences betwixt man and man ; 
 He is not soothed with adulation, 
 Nor moved with tears to wrest the course of justice 
 Into an unjust current to oppress the innocent ; 
 Nor does he make the laws 
 Punish the man, but in the man the cause. 
 
 Fletcher. 
 
 Chief Justice Gascoigne, during the reign of Henry 
 IV. of Eno-land, was called upon to punish a retainer of 
 the Prince of Wales, who had been guilty of some misde- 
 meanour. The man was a favourite of his master's, who 
 entered the court during the trial of his servant, and in loud 
 and violent terms commanded, that he should be freed from 
 his fetters, and set at liberty. The chief justice, in a firm 
 and dignified manner, told the prince, that such was not the 
 way to procure the release of his retainer; that he was in 
 the hands of the law, and could not be discharged until jus- 
 
JUSTICE. 59 
 
 tice was satisfied. He advised him to go to his royal father 
 and intercede for a pardon, which would probably be grant- 
 ed, and which was the only means of abating the punish- 
 ment, that had been incurred. The calm answer of the 
 chief justice, seemed only to provoke still farther the impa- 
 tient young man, who now strode across the hall, and lay- 
 ing his hand upon his servant, attempted to rescue him by 
 force from the officers. Irritated at this bold act of con- 
 tempt for his authority, Gascoigne, in stern and decisive 
 terms, now ordered the Prince of Wales to leave the hall 
 of justice, as one who had disgraced it. Henry turned 
 round and approached the bench, as if to offer personal 
 violence to the judge, when he was checked by the keen 
 eye, that caught his at the moment, giving additional force 
 to the majestic manner, in which the chief justice addressed 
 him. "Sir, remember yourself! I keep here the place of the 
 king, your sovereign lord and father, to whom you owe 
 double allegiance. In his name therefore, I charge you to 
 desist from your disobedience and unlawful enterprize, and 
 henceforth, give a better example to those, who will one day 
 be your own subjects. And now, for the contempt and 
 disobedience you have shewn, I commit you to the prison 
 of the king's bench, there to remain until the pleasure of 
 the king, your father, be known. These words recalled the 
 prince to a recollection of his duty, and in silence he per- 
 mitted the officers to conduct him to prison. When the 
 king heard of the occurrence, he exclaimed with great 
 satisfaction, "Happy is the king, who has a magistrate pos- 
 sessed of courage to execute the laws ; and still more happy 
 in having a son, who will submit to the punishment inflict- 
 ed for offending against them." When the prince came to 
 be king, speaking of Sir William Gascoigne, he said, "I 
 shall ever hold him worthy of his place, and of my favour ; 
 and I wish that all my judges may possess the like undaunt- 
 ed courage, to punish offenders of whatsoever rank or con- 
 sequence." 
 
 He who would be deemed truly good and honest, must 
 be just although it should be laborious, although it should be 
 injurious, although it should be attended with personal dan- 
 ger; and he should avoid injustice and dishonesty although 
 they should proffer wealth, or pleasure, or power. From 
 what is honourable nothing should deter him: to what is 
 base nothing should invite him. Seneca. 
 
60 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 The course of justice being completely perverted in Con- 
 stantinople, the emperor Justin, in order to restore it, ap- 
 pointed a man of firmness and integrity, prefect of the city; 
 and ordered it to be proclaimed in the streets, that the deci- 
 sion of the prefect should not admit of appeal, but be final in 
 every instance : that he should be deemed the immediate re- 
 presentative of the emperor, clothed with all his power, and 
 authorised to punish the rich and powerful, as well as the 
 poor and needy : and to render the office still more feared, 
 Justin pledged himself to grant no pardon when the orTend- 
 er had been condemned by the prefect. The new magis- 
 trate was well known by the inhabitants ; and his appoint- 
 ment and the declaration of the emperor, had, of themselves, 
 a very happy effect in restraining many of the abuses, 
 which had been before committed with impunity. There 
 was one only, who thought himself beyond the reach of the 
 Hw, and who openly defied its officers. One morning a poor 
 widow made her appearance before the prefect, and be- 
 sought justice against a general officer, who had plundered 
 her of all her property, and entirely deprived her of the 
 means of support. The prefect, wishing to spare the offend- 
 er, who was a relation of the emperor, the pain and morti- 
 fication of a public trial, wrote a note to him, informing him 
 of the complaint, and begging him to make restitution, with- 
 out the necessity of exposure before his tribunal. This note 
 he gave to the widow, who presented it to the general, and 
 remained patiently awaiting his answer. In place, howe- 
 ver, of restoring the goods, which he had taken away, he 
 overwhelmed the poor woman with abuse, and drove her 
 from his presence. She returned immediately to the pre- 
 fect, who on hearing the reception that she had met with, 
 despatched a summons to the officer, to appear before him, 
 and answer the charge alleged against him. The messen- 
 ger of justice was received as badly as the widow had been; 
 and he came back to inform the judge, that the arrest had 
 been wholly disregarded, and that the offender had gone to 
 the palace to dine with the emperor. The prefect followed 
 him thither, and, his rank obtaining him admission, he at 
 once appeared before his sovereign and the numerous 
 guests who were seated round the banquet table, "Sire/* 
 he said, "if you persist in your resolution to punish crime, 
 I am ready to execute your commands ; but if you renounce 
 this noble design, if the most wicked obtain the seat of ho- 
 nour at your board, accept from me, I pray you, the resig- 
 
JUSTICE. 61 
 
 nation of an office, useless to your subjects and displeasing 
 to yourself." Justin astonished, and yet gratified, at the 
 boldness of the prefect, replied, "No, I have not altered 
 my intention. Pursue crime to the uttermost; were it 
 seated with me on the throne, I would abandon it to punish- 
 ment." Authorised, by this noble reply, the prefect order- 
 ed his attendants to seize the general, who in mute fear sub- 
 mitted to his authority. He was carried before the tribunal, 
 and his cause fairly heard. On the evidence of many wit- 
 nesses he was found guilty, and suffered a punishment com- 
 mensurate with his offence. This example checked, for a 
 long time, the progress of crime and violence ; and Justin, 
 proud of the integrity of his magistrate, made his office 
 perpetual. 
 
 That which has happened to one, may happen to every 
 man ; and therefore, that excellent rule of our Saviour, in 
 acts of benevolence, as well as every thing else, should 
 govern us; "that whatsoever ye would that men should do 
 to you, do ye also unto them." Sterne. 
 
 A Spanish traveller was crossing a tract of uninhabited 
 country, in the south-west part of North America, when his 
 horse, completely overcome with heat and fatigue, refused to 
 proceed any further. In this situation he was discovered by 
 an Indian, who was mounted on a young horse, fresh and 
 vigorous. The traveller admired the beauty of the animal, 
 related his mishap to the Indian, and tried to persuade him 
 to make an exchange of horses. The other laughed at the 
 proposition, and refused altogether to accede to it. The 
 Spaniard, while talking, had laid his hands on the reins of 
 the Indian's horse, apparently without intention ; but finding 
 that he must soon be left alone, he determined to obtain by 
 violence, what was refused to his solicitations. Sudden- 
 ly drawing a pistol from his belt, he aimed it at the Indian, 
 and threatened him with death, unless he dismounted. The 
 other had no alternative. Life was more valuable than the 
 animal ; so, getting off his back, he delivered him to the Span- 
 iard, who, leaping on him, was soon out of sight. The 
 Indian followed with the traveller's horse, as fast as he could, 
 and overtook him at the first village which he came to. 
 Here he complained to the magistrate, who disregarding hi* 
 story, was on the point of giving judgment for the Spaniard, 
 6* 
 
&2 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 when the Indian, suddenly throwing his mantle over the head 
 of the horse, asked the Spaniard, of which of his eyes was the 
 horse blind. The other determined to risk all upon a bold 
 guess; so he immediately answered, "The right, to be sure." 
 "Of neither is he blind," said the Indian, taking off the 
 covering, and shewing the fact. The magistrate was now 
 satisfied; the traveller was punished for robbery; and the 
 Indian departed upon the horse* which he had so nearly 
 lost. 
 
 Justice is the constant and perpetual inclination to ren- 
 der unto every one that which is his due, whether of wealth 
 or of reputation, of profit or praise. Justinian. 
 
 An American judge, having occasion for some articles of 
 very trifling value, went one day into the store of a man, 
 with whom he was very well acquainted, to procure them. 
 After he had made his selection, he asked the store-keeper, 
 How much he had to pay. "Why," said the other, "what 
 you have taken is of so little value, that I beg you will not 
 think of paying for it, but accept it as a present." The 
 judge, shortly after, was leaving the shop, without taking 
 with him the things which he had chosen. "Stop, sir," 
 said the man, "you have left your purchase behind you." 
 "Allow me to make it my purchase, by paying for it," said 
 the judge, "and I will take it away; but I have resolved, 
 never, by accepting the smallest present, to subject myself 
 to the suspicion of partiality, should the donor ever come 
 before me in an official character." 
 
 Canute, king of Denmark, having killed one of his guards 
 in a fit of intoxication, descended from his throne, and 
 appearing before a judge, required him to pass sentence 
 upon him as a private individual, for the crime, which he 
 had committed. The judge, afraid to undertake the pun- 
 ishment of royalty, refused to hear the case ; when Canute 
 pronounced sentence upon himself, requiring the king of 
 Denmark to pay four times the usual penalty, for having 
 failed to set abetter example to his subjects.* 
 
 * Murder was at that period punished merely by fine. 
 
JUSTICE. 63 
 
 The following exhibits a striking instance of firmness in 
 the execution of the laws. In 1778, judge McKean, of 
 Pennsylvania, issued a warrant, directed to the sheriff of 
 Northampton county, requiring him to arrest a Colonel 
 Hooper, on a charge of libel. Hooper was a quarter master in 
 the army of general Greene, and upon receiving the warrant, 
 immediately informed Greene of the circumstances, and ask- 
 ed whether he should obey it. Greene, in this instance, ap- 
 pears to have had but little idea of the supremacy of the civil 
 over the military authorities, and wrote to the judge, "that 
 as the army was just on the wing, he could not, without 
 great necessity, 'consent 7 to Colonel Hooper's being absent; 
 and he requested that Hooper might enter into a recog- 
 nizance, with ample sureties, to appear in any court, 
 where he was legally answerable." In other words, he po- 
 litely refused to permit Hooper to obey the warrant of the 
 civil authority. This direct interference of military power, to 
 impede the course of justice, or at all events, to dictate to it, 
 roused judge McKean to the assertion of his rights, and 
 produced a letter to General Greene, of which the following 
 is a part : 
 
 " Sir, — I have just now received your favour of the 3d 
 instant, and am not a little surprised, that the sheriff of North- 
 ampton county should have permitted Colonel Robert L». 
 Hooper, after he was arrested by virtue of my precept, to 
 wait upon you, before he had appeared before me. * * * * 
 The warrant for the arrest of Colonel Hooper, being special, 
 no other magistrate can take cognizance thereof but myself. 
 The mode you propose of giving bail cannot be adopted, for 
 many reasons. I should be sorry to find that the execution 
 of criminal law, should impede the operations of the army, 
 in any instance ; but much more so to find the latter impede 
 the former." It is hardly necessary to add that the arrest 
 was effected after this, without any opposition from the mili- 
 tary authority. 
 
 No one can be said to be really just, who prefers any 
 thing to justice; who for fame, or wealth, or power, or 
 ■afety, can be induced, under any circumstances, to make 
 justice a secondary object only. Justice is innate; inde- 
 pendent of opinion, and governed by unalterable rules. 
 
 Cicero. 
 
64 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 In the year 1794, Samuel Chase was a judge of a court of 
 criminal jurisdiction in Baltimore, at a time when party poli- 
 tics were at the greatest height. Among other outrages 
 committed by the dominant party, two men were tarred and 
 feathered in the street. Judge Chase having become ac- 
 quainted with the circumstance, issued his warrant to ap- 
 prehend two very respectable and influential members of the 
 party, who he had reason to suspect, were ringleaders in 
 the violence, which had been committed. The sheriff brought 
 them into the court and before the judge, then on the bench. 
 An immense crowd of their friends accompanied them, and 
 remained in the court room, while others paraded in the 
 street, wittudrums beating, colors flying, and to all appear- 
 ance endeavouring to intimidate the judge by a display of 
 force. When the persons arrested were called upon to give 
 security for their appearance at the ensuing term of the 
 court, they refused to do so. " Then," said the judge, 
 "they must go to jail." One of their friends, a man of 
 wealth and reputation, now offered himself as bail ; but the 
 prisoners refused to permit him to become such. "Mr. 
 sheriff, take these persons to jail," said judge Chase. " It 
 is not in my power, sir," answered the sheriff: " the po- 
 pulace will not permit it. "Summon the posse comitatiis 
 then, sir, and do your duty." " If I summon the posse, sir, 
 in the present state of excitement, there are none who can be 
 ioduced to serve," was the reply of the officer. " Summon 
 me then, sir," said the judge; "summon Samuel Chase ; I 
 will be the posse ^omitatus and take the prisoners to jail." 
 The judge rose from his seat as he spoke, when a highly re- 
 spectable member of the bar, in a half confidential tone, en- 
 treated him to pass the matter over in silence, saying that 
 he apprehended the most imminent danger to both his per- 
 son and property, if he persisted in his course. "God for- 
 bid," was the emphatic reply of the judge, " that my coun- 
 trymen should ever be guilty of so daring an outrage ; but, 
 sir, with the blessing of God, I will do my duty — they may 
 destroy my property, they may pull down my house over my 
 head; yea, they may make a widow of my wife, and my children 
 fatherless, — the life of one man is of little consequence com- 
 pared with the prostration of the laws of the land ; — with the 
 blessing of God, I will do my duty, be the consequences what 
 they may." The parties still continued obstinate. " I am 
 willing," said judge Chase, " to give you full time to reflect on 
 this matter ; but by to-morrow your decision must be mad« 
 
JUSTICE. 66 
 
 up, — to give bail, or abide the consequences." Some one re- 
 marked that to-morrow was Sunday. " No better day," re- 
 plied the judge, "to execute the laws of our country; I will 
 meet you here, and then repair to the house of my God." 
 No security was given on Sunday, and judge Chase des- 
 patched an express to the Governor and Council, requiring 
 assistance. On Monday he was met by several citizens, 
 his personal friends, who requested him to desist, appre- 
 hending fatal consequences to the city. He replied to them 
 with great warmth, asking them, if they meant to insult him, 
 by supposing him capable of yielding the law to two obsti- 
 nate men. They left him with this answer, and in two 
 hours more the parties appeared, gave the required bail, and 
 justified the conduct of the judge, in supporting the supre- 
 macy of the laws. 
 
 When William, the Conqueror, commenced the erection 
 of the church of St. Stephen, at Caen, where it was his 
 wish to be buried, he destroyed many private dwellings, 
 which were upon the intended site, and among others, the 
 house of a poor man, to whom he gave no compensation for 
 hi3 loss. Fitz Arthur, for so was the owner of the house 
 called, brooded in silence over the wrong which had been 
 done to him, sought out another habitation, and saw the 
 proud cathedral rise above the ground, which had been 
 once occupied by his humble hearth-stone. At last, news 
 came that the conqueror was dead, and that in pursuance of 
 his well known wishes, he was to be buried in the church of 
 St. Stephen. Not long after, the funeral procession arrived, 
 and the body of the dead king was borne in state into the 
 aisle, and set down on the very spot, where formerly had 
 stood the dwelling of Fitz Arthur. Fitz Arthur himself 
 was dead ; but his son, who was acquainted with his father's 
 wrong, marked and knew the place where the bier rested. 
 High mass was celebrated, and the bishop, ascending ths 
 pulpit, pronounced to the surrounding multitude, the eulo- 
 gium of the first William. King Henry was present with 
 many of the nobles of his court, and great was their sur- 
 prise, when they heard in the silence, which followed the 
 conclusion of the episcopal harangue, the loud voice of 
 young Andrew Fitz Arthur. He stood at the foot of the 
 corpse. "This ground, whereupon we stand," he said, 
 " was some time the floor of my father's house, which that 
 
66 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 man, of whom you have spoken, when he was duke of Nor- 
 mandy, took violently from my father, and~afterwards found- 
 ed thereon this religious building. This injustice he did not 
 by ignorance or oversight, or through any necessity of the 
 state; but to content his own covetous desire. Now, 
 therefore, do I challenge this ground as my right, and do 
 here charge you, as you will answer it before the fearful face 
 of Almighty God, that the body of the spoiler be not cover- 
 ed with the earth of my inheritance." Fitz Arthur spoke 
 not without his voucher; and when the prelates and nobles 
 and soldiers, would have denied his right, his neighbours 
 stood round to prove the truth of this discourse, and that 
 the grave of the king was dug in the very centre of his 
 father's house. The young king Henry, unwilling, in so 
 awful a moment, to do an act of injustice, or to fail to repair 
 one, paid to Fitz Arthur the compensation which seemed 
 just, and when he had retired, the body of the conquerer 
 w r as interred in the ground, which had been, as it were, 
 purchased for the solemn occasion. 
 
 Justice is as strictly due between neighbour nations, as 
 between neighbour citizens. A highwayman is as much a 
 robber when he plunders in a gang, as when single; and a 
 nation that makes an unjust war, is only a great gang. 
 
 Franklin. 
 
 CLEMENCY. 
 
 The quality of mercy is not strained : 
 It droppeth as the gentle rain from hoaven 
 Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed; 
 It blesses him that gives, and him that takes : 
 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes 
 The throned monarch better than his crown : 
 His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
 The attribute to awe and majesty, 
 Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 
 But mercy is above this sceptred sway; 
 It is enthroned in the heart of king; 
 
CLEMENCY. 67 
 
 It is an attribute to God himself; 
 And earthly power doth then show likest God's 
 When mercy seasons justice. Therefore 
 Though justice be thy plea, consider this, — 
 That, in the course of justice, none of us 
 Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy; 
 And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
 The deeds of mercy. Shakspeare. 
 
 He that stands indebted for his life hath lost it ; but he 
 that receives his life from his enemy, lives to the honour of 
 his preserver. 
 
 Cinna entered into a conspiracy to murder Augustus ; and 
 the emperor was informed of it by one of the confederates. 
 The emperor was in doubt how to act. He had already 
 tried severity in many cases, without effect; and he did not 
 know that the execution of Cinna would be attended with 
 better effect than the execution of others. Still some- 
 thing must be done ; and while he was yet hesitating, Livia, 
 his wife, divining the cause of his abstraction, asked per- 
 mission for once to advise him. "Physicians," said she, 
 " when one remedy fails, try another; and frequently one 
 most contrary in its operation, to that last used. Follow 
 their example. To all the conspiracies that have been 
 formed against you, you have, without success, employed 
 severe punishment. You have got nothing, however, by 
 your severity. Try now what clemency will do, and forgive 
 Cinna. He is discovered, and consequently can do no in- 
 jury to your person ; and your forgiveness of him will do 
 great service in the advancement of your reputation." Au- 
 gustus was struck with the advice of Livia, and after some 
 further consideration, he determined to adopt it. He there- 
 fore ordered Cinna to be brought before him. He told him 
 of the iniquity of his designs, exposed to him their impolicy, 
 as well as their ingratitude,*and concluded by saying, " Well, 
 Cinna, the life that I gave to you once, as an enemy, I will 
 now continue to a traitor and to a parricide ; and this is the 
 last reproach that I will give you. For the future, let our 
 only struggle be, to show which can overcome the other in 
 acts of kindness and friendship." — After this, Augustus found 
 Cinna engaged in no more conspiracies against him ; and 
 Livia triurnphed in the successful result of the clemency 
 which she had advised. 
 
68 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 After the hard fought battle of Aigradel, between Louis 
 XII. and the Venetians, Lalviene, a Venetian general, 
 was brought before the king of France, who, with great 
 kindness complimented, him upon his bravery, — told him it 
 was the fortune of war, and not his deficiency in courage or 
 good conduct, which had determined the issue of the battle, 
 and bid him be comforted ; assuring him at the same time, 
 that he should be treated with every attention and respect. 
 Soured, perhaps, by the reverse which he had met with, Lal- 
 viene could not meet the advances of Louis in the same 
 courteous manner, in which they were made; but assumed 
 a haughty air, and treated the politeness of the king with 
 rude incivility. The king immediately perceived it, and 
 turning round to one of his officers, he said, "Take that man 
 from my presence, and put him among the other prisoners. 
 I might be provoked, were he to remain, to say or do some 
 act> which would be improper, and of which I might subse- 
 quently repent. I gained one victory, when I overcame him 
 in the field of battle. There is a greater victory still to be 
 gained. I must endeavour to overcome myself. Therefore, 
 I repeat, take away the Venetian." 
 
 In the reign of Philip of Macedon, some Athenian am- 
 bassadors came to complain of certain acts of his, which 
 they maintained were grievances that ought to be redressed. 
 Philip received them in his court, surrounded by his high 
 officers of the army and state, and exhibiting, in his appear- 
 ance and manner, all the calm and self possessed dignity, 
 which became so powerful a sovereign, as he of Macedon. 
 The countrymen of Demosthenes were not awed by the 
 display of royal magnificence ; and without considering that 
 it became them to be, at least, courteous and respectful, they 
 indulged in unauthorized rudeness. Philip having heard 
 their tale, professed great sorrow, that there should have 
 been any cause for complaint, promised that they should 
 have most ample redress, and as the ambassadors were re- 
 tiring, he asked if there was any thing, in which he could be 
 of service to them. The haughty Demochares, the head of 
 the embassy, turned round in answer to the king, and re- 
 plied in insulting tones: "There is much, the doing of 
 which would benefit the Athenians; but the first and great- 
 est of all will be for you to hang yourself." It was in the 
 power of Philip to have ordered Demochares to execution ; 
 
CLEMENCY. 69 
 
 but with a better feeling, he contented himself with replying 
 very calmly, "Go, tell your superiors, that those who dare 
 make use of such insolent language, are more haughty and 
 less peaceably inclined, than those who can forgive them." 
 
 History records that our ancestors, in all times, have been 
 of this nature and disposition, that upon the winning of a bat- 
 tle, they have chosen rather, for a sign and memorial of their 
 triumphs and victories, to erect trophies and monuments in 
 the hearts of the vanquished, by clemency, than by de- 
 struction in the lands which they have conquered. For they 
 did hold in greater estimation the lively remembrance of 
 men, purchased by liberality, than the dumb misconception 
 of ashes, pillars and pyramids, subject to the injuries of storms 
 and tempests, and to the envy of every one. Rabelais, 
 
 During our revolution, there were instances, when, irri- 
 tated by the cruelty of their enemies beyond the power of 
 endurance, the Americans may have been led to acts of re- 
 taliation. But these were few and of rare occurrence; and 
 when discovered and made public, the perpetrators of them 
 were always treated with deserved contempt. The conduct 
 of the Americans to their prisoners was in general humane 
 and tender ; and when Lafayette was asked, why he* did not 
 retaliate at Yorktown for the cruelties of Tarleton and Ar- 
 nold, at Waxaws and fort Griswold, his reply was worthy of 
 himself and of his cause. "Incapable of imitating exam- 
 ples of barbarity, we spare every man that ceases to resist," 
 
 Mercy is so peculiarly an attribute of the Creator, that its 
 exercise by man becomes one of his most imperious duties. 
 He, who from his throne on high, can look down on earth 
 to pardon his creatures, requires at their hands, that clemen- 
 cy towards one another, which He himself is so constantly 
 exercising towards them. 
 
 -Yet no attribute 
 
 So well befits th' exalted seat supreme, 
 And power's disposing hand, as clemency. 
 Each crime must from its quality be judg'd ; 
 And pity there should interpose, where malice 
 Is not the aggressor. Janet, 
 
 7 
 
70 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword ; 
 The mareschalPs truncheon, nor the judge's robe, 
 Become them with one half so good a grace, 
 As mercy does. 
 
 Alas! the souls of all men once were forfeit, 
 And he that might th' advantage best have taken f 
 Found out the remedy : how would ye be, 
 If he, who is the top of judgment, should 
 But judge you as you are ? Oh! think on that, 
 And mercy then will breathe within your lips, 
 Like man new made. Shakspeare. 
 
 PROVIDENTIAL INTERFERENCES. 
 
 There are some few in the world, who sneer at the idea 
 of a superintending watchfulness over human affairs, on the 
 part of the Creator, and who pretend to attribute every 
 thing to chance, rather than to providence. Instances, how- 
 ever, in which the finger of providence has been plainly 
 visible are numerous; too numerous, indeed, not to confute 
 the unbelief of the sceptic. And why should it not be so? 
 The Creator of mankind, who has ordered all things for our 
 good, who has made us and the fair world around us in 
 such matchless proportions, who has provided for our Com- 
 fort here, and done that for our happiness hereafter, which 
 He alone could do, He may well be supposed ,to interfere 
 to promote the interests of virtue among his creatures. He 
 does so at every moment of our lives. Some instances 
 may be more striking than others; but for all his interferes 
 ces, whether affecting the -fate of individuals or of nations, 
 the most profound gratitude is the bounden duty of man. 
 
 The superintending favour of providence, was never, per- 
 haps, more strongly and visibly shown, than during the 
 American revolution ; and never had a people more just 
 cause for pious thankfulness, than the inhabitants of the pro- 
 vinces of Great Britain in their struggle for independence. 
 
 In the year 1775, it became a matter of the highest mo- 
 ment, that the British army should be driven from the town 
 of Boston, which it then occupied, under the command of 
 General Gage. Orders from Congress were sent to General 
 
PROYIDENTIAL INTERFERENCES. 71 
 
 Washington to effect this object at every hazard. Wash- 
 ington had long seen, that the command of Dorchester 
 heights would give him decided advantages over the enemy ; 
 and he now determined, at all hazards, to possess himself 
 of them. The night of the 14th of March, 1775, was fixed 
 upon for the attempt ; and, as soon as it was dark, a large de- 
 tachment of the American army commenced a rapid, but si- 
 lent march, carrying with them picks, spades and mattocks, 
 for the purpose of constructing a temporary fortification. 
 It was not very long before they arrived at the appointed 
 spot ; when, laying aside their arms, they began their midnight 
 toil, unmindful of the brisk cannoncde, which the noise of 
 their labours brought upon them from the British shipping. 
 In the morning, the astonished commander of the English 
 saw the heights of Dorchester covered with men, and a for- 
 tification rapidly progressing, which, if suffered to be com- 
 pleted, would, in a short time, render Boston untenable by 
 his troops. He at once determined to storm and carry the yet 
 unfinished works of the Americans, as the only means of keep- 
 ing possession of the town. The day was one of cloudless 
 beauty, when he gave the necessary order for the embarkation 
 of a detachment of his army, to cross the narrow inlet, which 
 separated him from the besiegers. Column after column, 
 exulting in the confidence of victory, marched down to the 
 water's, edgey where the boats of the shipping were in readi- 
 ness to receive them. The Americans on the opposite shore, 
 marked all their movements, and with anxious hearts were 
 making their hurried preparations for defence. Scarcely, 
 however, had the foremost platoons embarked, when a 
 storm arose, almost instantaneously. The waves rolled 
 wildly on the ebbing tide, and the passage became im- 
 practicable. Delay became necessary ; and the three days 
 of violent wind and rain, which followed, effectually pre- 
 vented the repetition of the attempt. The Americans com- 
 pleted their fortifications ; and the British, finding the town 
 commanded by the artillery of the besiegers, embarked on 
 board of their shipping and abandoned it. 
 
 Another, and not less striking, instance of the interposition 
 of divine providence, occurred after the disastrous fate of the 
 American army on Long Island. General Washington had 
 retreated within the lines at Brooklyn. Before him was the 
 enemy, who, by a bold and rapid charge, could have carried 
 
n PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 the slight fortifications, which protected him. Behind him 
 and separating him from New York, was the East river, in- 
 to which, the prevalence of a strong north-east wind alone 
 prevented the British fleet from entering. In this distress- 
 ing situation, in hourly danger of being placed between 
 two fires, with a vanquished and dispirited army, he deter- 
 mined to evacuate his position, and retire into New York, as 
 the only means of safety. At the moment of his retreat, the 
 north-east wind, which would have rendered the passage 
 of the river dangerous in the extreme, shifted to the north- 
 west, and the hitherto agitated waters became smooth and 
 tranquil. At the same time, a thick fog veiled the whole 
 of Long Island in obscurity, and concealed the movement 
 of the Americans, while the atmosphere of New York was 
 perfectly clear; and when the morning sun drove the heavy 
 vapour from before them, the British saw the rear of the 
 continental army, landing in security beyond their reach- 
 While the fog lasted, nine thousand men, with their artille- 
 ry, baggage and munitions of war, were brought off without 
 the smallest loss, in the immediate presence of their enemy. 
 
 After the battle of Cowpens, the retreating army of Gene- 
 ral Morgan was pursued by Lord Cornwallis with the activity 
 of one, who fancied his enemy was within his reach, and that 
 it only needed a slight exertion to crush him for ever. The 
 Tain was falling 111 torrents, when Morgan reached the banks 
 of Broad river. He crossed without a moment's delay, and 
 continued with unabated speed upon the road to Virginia. 
 When Cornwallis arrived at the same spot, but a few hours 
 after, the stream had swollen to such a size, as to present 
 an impassable barrier. For two days it continued undimi- 
 nished; and when it abated, Cornwallis continued the pur- 
 suit with unprecedented rapidity. So rapid were his move- 
 ments, that when Morgan's last platoons were debarking 
 on the opposite side of the Catawba, the vanguard of the 
 British army reached the place, which they had left, not 
 twenty minutes before. But Providence was again on the 
 side of the Americans. A rise of water took place in the 
 Catawba, similar to that which had checked the British at 
 Broad river ; and a roaring flood was thus, a second time, in- 
 terposed between them and their anticipated victims. Thus 
 was the army of Morgan twice saved, by circumstances, 
 without which it must inevitably have fallen a prey to the 
 superior numbers and activity of its pursuers. 
 
PART II. 
 
 0\m DT3TIES TO 0\IU T^LLO^W 
 
 BENEVOLENCE AND HUMANITY. 
 
 He that gives for gain, profit or any by-end, destroys the 
 very intent of bounty, for it falls only upon those that do 
 not want Seneca. 
 
 We should give as we would receive, cheerfully, quickly, 
 and without hesitation ; for there is no grace in a benefit, that 
 appears to be extorted. Ibid. 
 
 There is nothing, that requires so strict an economy, as our 
 benevolence. We should husband our means as the agri- 
 culturalist his manure, which, if he spread over too large 
 a superficies, produces no crop; if over too small a surface, 
 exuberates in rankness, and in weeds. Lacon. 
 
 Doctor Wilson, upon one occasion, ascertained, that 
 there was a poor curate and his family, in the greatest dis- 
 tress, and gave to a friend the sum of £50, requesting him 
 to call upon the sufferers, and deliver the money to them. 
 He took it for granted that the business was done forthwith, 
 and seeing his friend an hour afterwards, asked him concern- 
 ing his errand, and was much surprised to hear that it had not 
 yet been performed. "And why not," asked doctor Wil- 
 son. "I thought, sir, that it could be done quite as well 
 to-morrow morning," was the answer. "You forgot, my 
 good sir," replied Wilson, "of what importance a good 
 night's rest may be to that poor man." 
 
74 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Among the crowd, which attended the levees of Fred- 
 erick the great, was an officer of great merit and bravery, 
 but in reduced circumstances. He wanted a pension; and 
 want made him importunate. He had several times address- 
 ed the king, who always answered him, ''Wait awhile with 
 patience; at present, lean do nothing for you." He did 
 wait, and in vain. He then renewed his entreaties with so 
 much earnestness, that Frederick became seriously annoy- 
 ed, and gave orders, that he should not be again admitted. 
 The king was obeyed, and for some time, heard nothing 
 more of the officer. At last he "almost forgot him. One 
 day a satirical publication was shewn to him, in which he 
 was treated with great severity. Such things had often 
 appeared before, and it had always been his habit to disre- 
 gard them. On this occasion, however, there was a point 
 and severity in the remarks, which provoked the king, and 
 he offered a reward of fifty louis'dors for the discovery of 
 the author. The next day the officer made his appearance 
 at the gate of the palace, and asked to be admitted. The 
 servants refused him, and alleged as an excuse, the orders 
 of their master. The officer, however, was determined, and 
 at last succeeding in gaining admission to the king, " What 
 brings you here again," asked Frederick, who immediately 
 recognized his former annoyer. "The reward of fifty lou- 
 is'dors," was the answer, "and not my pension. I am the 
 author of the satire ; imprison me, and inflict on me the 
 penalty of the law; but send the money to my wife and 
 children, to save them from starvation." "You shall be 
 sent to Spandau," said the monarch, meaning the place 
 where state prisoners were always confined. "Send me 
 there, but send the reward at the same time to my family." 
 Frederick immediately wrote and sealed a letter, which he 
 directed the officer to take with him to the commandant of 
 Spandau, with strict injunctions not to open it until after 
 dinner. He then ordered a strong guard, and the officer 
 found himself in a fair way to be confined for some time. 
 When he arrived at Spandau, he delivered the letter as di- 
 rected, and the commandant and himself sat down together, 
 the officer waiting with no little anxiety, for the grace which 
 was to conclude the meal, — the king's letter.— At last it 
 was opened, and was as follows: " The bearer of this letter 
 is appointed commandant of the fortress of Spandau. His 
 wife and children will be with him in a few hours, and will 
 bring with them fifty louis'dors. The late commandant of 
 
MNEVOLENCE AND HUMANITY. 75 
 
 Spandau, will repair to Potsdam, where he will find a better 
 place destined for him." Judge how great was the mutual 
 surprise of both parties, at the benevolent revenge of the king 
 upon the author of the satire* How few persons would 
 have merged the injury in the motive which prompted it. 
 
 There cannot be a more glorious object in creation, than 
 a humane being; replete with benevolence, meditating in 
 what manner he might render himself most acceptable to 
 his Creator, by doing most good to his creatures. 
 
 Fielding* 
 
 The widow of one of Frederick the great's officers, who 
 Was very aged, applied to him for a pension^ and the king sent 
 for her, to learn the circumstances of her case. When he had 
 heard them, he said, " Your husband was a brave man, who 
 did his country much service; and his country, therefore, 
 owes him a support. But there are no pensions vacant, 
 which can be given to you. I will, however, retrench one 
 dish at my table, which will be a saving at the end of the 
 year, of three hundred and sixty-five crowns. This shall be 
 regularly paid, until there happens a vacancy on the pen- 
 sion list." How worthy of imitation, is the example of 
 Frederick! and how much good might be done in the world, 
 by the daily retrenchment of one superfluous luxury, and 
 the application of the money, to the benefit of the poor and 
 meritorious ! 
 
 A tender-hearted and compassionate disposition which 
 inclines men to pity and feel the misfortunes of others, and 
 which is, even for its own sake, incapable of involving man 
 in misery and ruin, is of all tempers of mind the most amia* 
 ble ; and though it seldom receives much honour, is worthy 
 of the highest. Fielding. 
 
 There are few officers who ever evinced more benevolent 
 kindness to their suffering soldiers, than General Washing- 
 ton. Passing through the Jerseys on one occasion, with a 
 large staff, he stopped at a public house for refreshment, in 
 which was an American officer, who was painfully suscepti- 
 ble to the slightest noise. Washington who was in a neigh- 
 bouring room with his attendants, secured quiet, by his 
 own whispered tones; but soon after he had withdrawn, 
 
76 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS, 
 
 his staff became noisy, in their loud laughter and ani- 
 mated conversation. Washington overheard them, and 
 fearing, lest the unfortunate sufferer should be disturb- 
 ed, entered the apartment, and walking on tiptoe to the 
 mantle-piece, took from it a book, which he pretended to 
 want, and retired in the same quiet manner. The hint was 
 not lost: — respectful silence was the immediate conse- 
 quence. 
 
 A person went one day to see the minister of his parish, 
 ft good and holy man, who was well known throughout 
 the neighbourhood for his numerous acts of benevolence ; 
 and who had living with him at the time two little orphans, 
 whom he had undertaken to clothe and protect at his own 
 expense. His visitor, pointing to the walls of the house, 
 which were neither plaistered nor papered inside, asked 
 him, why he had not had it done, as it would be a great 
 addition to his comfort. "I love better," he replied, "to 
 clothe these orphans, than the walls of my house ; and to 
 do the one, I must leave undone the other." 
 
 Humanity or mercy is the first great attribute of the De- 
 ity, "Who maketh his rain to fall upon the just and the un- 
 just." Consequently there is nothing that can bring a man 
 to so near a likeness to his maker. Dodd. 
 
 The cruel are a scandal to their species ; and in truth are 
 savage beasts that walk upright on two feet, when, like 
 their fellow brutes, they should trudge on all four. Dodd. 
 
 It was upon the summit of a lofty mountain that the 
 senate of the Areopagus was held, on one occasion, in 
 the days 'of ancient Greece. The assembly was not shield- 
 ed from the sun by roof or dome ; but the blue arch of Hea- 
 ven was alone above it. While the members were debat- 
 ing an important question, a sparrow flew into the midst 
 of them and nestled in the bosom of one of the gravest of 
 the body. The man with whom the sparrow had thus taken 
 refuge, was of a harsh and unkind disposition ; and he 
 dashed the little bird from him with so much violence that 
 it was killed. The action was observed by the senate, 
 which was so much offended, that it immediately condemn- 
 
BENEVOLENCE AND HUMANITY. 77 
 
 ed and banished the person who had been guilty of such 
 cruelty. And this was done to show the importance, 
 which the senate placed upon the virtue of humanity; con* 
 eidering, that without it, a man was unfit to hold any office 
 in the government of his fellow men* 
 
 My uncle Toby was a man patient of injuries; not from 
 want of courage. Where just occasion presented, or called 
 it forth,— I know no man under whose arm I would sooner 
 have taken shelter;— nor did this arise from any insensi- 
 bility or obtuseness of his intellectual parts-— he was of a 
 peaceful, placid nature, no jarring element in it,— all was 
 mixed up so kindly with him, that my uncle Toby had scarce 
 a heart to hurt a fly:— Go,— says he, one day at dinner, to an 
 overgrown one which had buzzed about his nose, and tor- 
 mented him cruelly all dinner time,— and which, after infV 
 nite attempts, he had caught at last— as it flew by him ;— -1*11 
 not hurt thee, says my uncle Toby, rising from his chair; 
 and going across the room, with the fly in his hand,— I'll 
 not hurt a hair of thy head:— Go, says he, lifting up the 
 sash, and opening his hand as he spoke, to let it escape;— 
 go, poor devil, get thee gone; why should I hurt theer'««» 
 This world surely is wide enough to hold thee and me. 
 
 Sterne* 
 
 Robert Bruce passed over into Ireland with a large army, 
 to assist his brother Edward in obtaining the throne of that 
 kingdom. Bruce gained several battles ; but the fortune 
 of war declaring itself at last in favour of the English 
 and their Irish auxiliaries, under command of sir Edmond 
 Butler, the Scots were forced to retreat, and were very sore- 
 ly pressed by the enemy. One morning, as king Robert 
 was about to mount his horse, to retreat from an expect- 
 ed attack, his attention was attracted by the pitiable shrieks 
 of a woman in distress. Upon inquiring the cause, he 
 found that they proceeded from a poor laundress or washer- 
 woman, whose husband was in his army, and who was just 
 delivered of a child, and so weak as to be unable to walk, 
 while there were no carriages to convey her away, If the 
 army retreated, she must needs be left behind; and her 
 cries were caused by fear of the death, which she expected 
 at the hands of the Irish. King Robert was silent for a 
 moment, and doubtful whether to desert the woman, or 
 
78 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 expose his army, in her protection. At last he turned to 
 his officers, and said, " Never let it be told, that a man who 
 was born of a woman, and nursed by a woman's tenderness, 
 should leave a mother and an infant to the mercy of barba- 
 rians. In the name of God,' let the odds and the risk be 
 what they will, I will fight Edmond Butler rather than leave 
 these poor creatures behind me. Let the army therefore, 
 be drawn up in line of battle, instead of retreating." As- 
 tonished at the halt of the Scotch, the English general be- 
 lieved that it must be occasioned by reinforcements, which 
 gave them confidence, and was afraid to attack them ; so 
 that the poor woman was sent off in safety, and the king 
 retreated at his leisure, without suffering any inconvenience 
 from his humanity. 
 
 In 1744, Louis XV. with a gallant army of Frenchmen, 
 §at down before Menin, with a determination of reducing 
 it. The works of the besiegers progressed daily, and the 
 ultimate reduction of the place was rendered certain.. At 
 this time, one of the generals of Lewis told him before 
 many persons, whom he called to witness the truth of what 
 he said, that by a brisk attack, which would only cost the 
 lives of a few men, the place might be reduced four days 
 sooner than by the manner in which the siege was then con- 
 ducted. " Very well," replied the king, " let the reduction 
 be four days later then. I would much rather remain four 
 days before Menin, than lose one of my subjects." 
 
 For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, 
 His can't be wrong whose life is in the right; 
 In faith and hope the world will disagree, 
 But all mankind's concern is charity. Pope. 
 
 The most eloquent speaker, the most ingenious- writer, 
 and the most accomplished statesman, cannot effect so 
 much, as the mere presence of the man, who tempers his 
 wisdom and his vigour with humanity. Lavater. 
 
 We ought in humanity no more to despise a man for the 
 misfortunes of the mind than for those of the body, when 
 they are such as he cannot help. Were this thoroughly 
 considered, we should no more laugh at one for having his 
 brains cracked, than for having his head broke. Pope. 
 
(79) 
 
 GENEROSITY. 
 
 The truly generous is the truly wise, 
 
 And he that loves not others, lives unblest. 
 
 Home's Douglass. 
 
 There is not any benefit so glorious in itself, but it may 
 yet be exceedingly enhanced by the manner of conferring it. 
 The virtue, I know, rests in the intent; the profit in the ju- 
 dicious application of the matter ; but the beauty and orna- 
 ment of an obligation lies in the manner of it. Seneca. 
 
 No instance of treachery, perhaps, ever produced so 
 strong an excitement, as the desertion of general Benedict 
 Arnold from the American cause ; yet this moment was mark- 
 ed by the display of almost chivalrous generosity to the near 
 friends and relatives of the traitor. When the capture of An-* 
 dre was made known to Arnold, he knew that he was discov- 
 ered, and hastening to the apartment of his wife he exclaim- 
 ed : " All is lost: Andre is a prisoner. Burn all my papers ! 
 I fly to New York!" The unfortunate lady fainted and 
 fell, and when she recovered found that her husband had de- 
 parted. She remained in momentary expectation of hear- 
 ing that he had been arrested in his flight, and punished as a 
 traitor, and in wild distraction frequently called out upon 
 Washington for pardon. Washington knew her to be a ten- 
 der mother and an affectionate wife. Arnold, and not she, 
 was the object of his resentment; and anxious to relieve the 
 agonizing suspense which he felt she must endure, he inform- 
 ed her, with the most delicate kindness, that her husband 
 had escaped his pursuers, and was on board the Vulture 
 sloop of war. At the same time he offered her safe conduct 
 to the British lines, or to her relations in Philadelphia. She 
 said, "She would share the fate of her husband ;" but before 
 joining him she was anxious once more to see her parents. 
 Her desire was gratified; and on her way to Philadelphia, the 
 inhabitants of a town through which she passed, learning she 
 was there, with a delicacy rarely found in moments of high 
 excitement, by unanimous consent suspended their prepara- 
 
80 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 tions to burn Arnold in effigy, and treated her with the most 
 respectful atttention, as if they sympathized with her in her 
 jsad and irretrievable misfortune. 
 
 At the battle of Stono, in South Carolina, when the detach- 
 ment of the British 71st regiment had been nearly annihila- 
 ted by a charge of the American light infantry, a British cap- 
 tain, who had behaved with the most intrepid bravery, was so 
 severely wounded as to be unable any longer to exert him- 
 self; and supporting himself against a tree, he remained a 
 spectator only of the termination of the combat. In this situ- 
 ation a continental soldier had already raised his musket to 
 thrust the bayonet through him, when the weapon was turn- 
 ed aside, and his life saved by an American lieutenant, who 
 upbraided the soldier for his intended slaughter of an unre- 
 sisting foe. At the same moment, one of the chief American 
 officers rode up, and exclaiming, "That is too brave a fellow 
 to die," committed the Englishman to the care of the very 
 soldier who would have deprived him of life, with the strict- 
 est injunctions to protect him, 
 
 Among the officers in the British army, who came to Ame- 
 rica during the revolutionary war, and took an active part 
 against the independence of the country, was colonel Small, 
 But, although an enemy, no one was more esteemed by the 
 Americans, His generosity and kindness to his prisoners 
 were almost proverbial; and his constant exertion was to mi- 
 tigate, as far as possible, the inevitable sufferings and horrors 
 of war. At the battle of Bunker's hill, he turned aside the 
 bayonet, which was directed at the breast of the expiring 
 Warren, and was himself most probably indebted for life 
 to the generosity of an old acquaintance, " Take good aim," 
 said Putnam to his troops, -'kill as many as you can, but 
 spare Small ;" and the sturdy republican actually turned aside 
 many rifles, which were aimed at his friend. 
 
 In the year 1777, after the declaration of American inde- 
 pendence, General Whipple, a member of the Congress 
 which proclaimed the freedom of the United States, was on 
 his way to join the army, in which he held a distinguished 
 command. Several of his friends were with him, and go* 
 vernor Langdon among others, They conversed, naturally 
 enough, upon, the prospects of the country, the chance* of 
 
GENEROSITY. 61 
 
 war, and the probabilities of succeeding. They spoke as pa- 
 triots do, whose all was at risk, placed so by their uncon- 
 querable desire for independence. At last Whipple turned 
 to his servant, who was a black man and a slave, and told him 
 that he expected, if they should be brought to action, that he 
 too would behave like a man of bravery, and fight strongly and 
 heartily for his country. Prince, so was the servant named, 
 replied, " Sir, I have no inducement to fight; but if I had my 
 liberty, I would endeavour to defend the land I live in to the 
 last drop of my blood." Whipple manumitted him upon the 
 spot; and Prince subsequently exhibited, as a freeman, the 
 spirit and bravery, which would have for ever lain dormant 
 in the bosom of a slave. 
 
 Just before the battle of Bannockburn, where Bruce over- 
 threw the army of Edward I. of England, led on by the 
 king in person, when the Scottish troops were arrayed 
 in order of battle, king Robert posted lord Randolph, with 
 a chosen body of men, near to the church of St. Ninian, 
 with express orders to watch the motions of the English in 
 that direction, and on no account to permit any succours 
 to be thrown into Stirling Castle. The king himself was 
 not less upon the watch than Randolph; and on the eve of 
 the battle, June 23, 1314, he saw a large body of English 
 horse, proceeding at a rapid rate towards Stirling. Ran- 
 dolph was by him at the time ; and the king, pointing out 
 the detachment, exclaimed in somewhat an excited tone, 
 "See Randolph, there is a rose fallen from your chaplet." 
 Now Randolph was the nephew of the king ; but he could 
 not bear that any one should suppose that his reputation, 
 either for watchfulness or bravery, was at all diminished ; so 
 setting spurs to his Jiorse, he called upon his followers, who 
 did not equal in number more than one half the English, 
 and proceeded rapidly towards Stirling. It was lord Clif- 
 ford, who was thus attempting to elude the vigilance of the 
 Scotch; and Randolph, by dint of exertion, got directly in 
 his front, and there drew up to oppose his further passage. 
 The Scots were on foot, and almost exhausted with the ra- 
 pidity of the movement just made ; and the English cavalry 
 placing their lances in rest, rushed fiercely to the charge, 
 expecting at once to overpower them. Of this, there seem- 
 ed so much probability, that lord Douglass asked leave of 
 the king to go and assist Randolph ; but Bruce refused per- 
 mission, saying, " Let Randolph redeem his own fault ; I 
 8 
 
82 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 cannot break the order of battle for his sake." Douglass 
 remained silent under this refusal for a short time, during 
 which he watched intently the fight between Clifford and 
 Randolph. At last the English cavalry seemed to sur- 
 round the small body of Scottish infantry. The feelings of 
 Douglass could not be controlled any longer, even by the 
 authority of the king. " So /please your majesty," said 
 Douglass to Bruce, "my heart will not suffer me to stand 
 idle and see Randolph perish. — I must go to his assis- 
 tance." He rode off accordingly; but before he had pro- 
 ceeded far, and long before he reached the place of com- 
 bat, he saw the English horses escaping without their 
 riders, with every sign of a complete defeat. Now there 
 was a strife between Douglass and Randolph, whieh should 
 stand highest in the favour of the nation, that made them 
 desirous of outdoing each other in acts of valour; and had 
 Douglass been of a narrow and contracted mind, he would 
 have hastened on, to have divided with Randolph the 
 honour of d?feating the English. But when he saw the 
 horses flying off without men to govern them, he cried to 
 his men, "Halt! Randolph has gained the day: since we 
 were not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let 
 us lessen his glory by approaching to the field." 
 
 During the siege of Lisbon, by the Portuguese, in the twelfth 
 century, Don Pedro, the natural brother of Alphonso L 
 met a party of the Moors who held it, making a rapid sor- 
 tie from the city. Anxious to preserve his daughter from 
 the dangers and depredations of a siege, the governor had 
 given her in charge to Cid Achim, a Moorish chief of re- 
 nowned bravery, with directions to convey her, together 
 with a large amount of gold and silver, to the fortress of 
 Alenquier. The father could not have made a better choice 
 to command the sortie than Cid Achim: for the young man 
 had joined the Moors in Lisbon, on purpose to gain, by 
 deeds of valour, the favour of the daughter. The resis- 
 tance, therefore, which Don Pedro met with, was obstinate 
 and bloody ; but in the end the Portuguese were victorious ; 
 the lady was made prisoner, and the Moors, abandoning the 
 treasure, fled back to the fortress. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had Don Pedro time to congratulate 
 himself upon his victory, when Cid Achim, unarmed, threw 
 himself at the feet of Don Alphonso, and besought hira to 
 restore the lady to her father, offering to yield himself a pri- 
 
GENEROSITY. 83 
 
 soner in her stead. Struck with the chivalrous generosity 
 of the request, Alphonso would at once have liberated the 
 fair captive, had not the right of disposing of her belonged 
 to Don Pedro, her captor. To him, therefore, he referred 
 Cid Achim. The young Moor hastened to his conqueror, 
 and in humble tones, preferred his petition for the freedom 
 of his mistress, and his own imprisonment. Without hesi- 
 tation, Don Pedro granted her liberty, and offered to Cid 
 Achim one half of the treasure which had been taken in 
 the sortie; requiring only, in return, that he should retire 
 to Svlvas, until the termination of the war. 
 
 A generous, a brave, a noble deed, performed by an adver- 
 sary commands our approbation; though in its consequen- 
 ces, it may be acknowledged prejudicial to our particular 
 interest. Hume. 
 
 Martin Sanchez, the natural son of Sancho the I. of Por- 
 tugal, on the death of his father, was forced by the persecu- 
 tion of his brother A'lphonso, the reigning monarch, to 
 seek refuge in Leon. Here the talents of Sanchez, soon 
 raised him to notice and distinction, and he was appointed 
 to command the armies of Leon, in the war then waging 
 with Portugal. In the preparation for the first battle, San- 
 chez perceived, that he was placed immediately opposite to 
 Alphonso. He saluted him from afar, and returning his 
 sword into its scabbard, declared to those around, that he 
 
 would never draw it against his brother. The king of Por- 
 ts '-'... 
 tugal perceived and understood the action, and admiring its 
 
 generosity, and determining not to be outdone by an enemy, 
 he retired from the field, and went to Oporto on the com- 
 mencement of the fight. This condescension, which might 
 be construed so disadvantageous^ to the courage of Al- 
 phonso, was of great injury to his cause ; his soldiers be- 
 came disheartened, and Sanchez gained a complete victory. 
 
 In 1245, Martin Gilles, the favourite of Sancho I. was 
 appointed to command an army against the enemies of his 
 king; and in one of the battles fought by him, there was the 
 following singular occurrence. Rodrique d'Abreu, a knight 
 of the royal army, met during the thickest of the fight with 
 Rodrigo Fan, a man as much distinguished by his birth as 
 
84 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 by his c urage. Fafi had been dismounted, and thinking 
 that d'Abreu, who was young and active, could have no ob- 
 jection to the proposal, he asked him to give him his horse, 
 which was still fresh and spirited. D'Abreu had been for a 
 long time attached to the daughter of Fafi; but had hitherto 
 met with nothing but opposition from her father. Now 
 was the time therefore, he fancied, to gain his consent; and 
 he replied to him, "Fan, I have loved your daughter long 
 and faithfully, consent that she shall be my wife, and my 
 steed is yours." " Take her," said Fafi, and mounting the 
 animal, plunged into the fight. Animated by his unexpect- 
 ed success, d'Abreu, although on foot, performed prodigies 
 of valour; and Fafi confessed, when he bestowed his daugh- 
 ter, that she had been nobly gained by the prowess of her 
 admirer. 
 
 In the year 1745, after the fatal battle of Culloden, 
 prince Charles, the son of the Pretender, as he was called, 
 that is, the Stuart who claimed the crown of England, 
 in opposition to the house of Hanover, wandered for many 
 days in danger of death, if discovered. He slept in the 
 woods, got food from the charity of those who did not know 
 him, and at last, -after a distressing day's journey of thirty 
 miles on foot, he reached the house of a gentleman who 
 was opposed to him, and threw himself upon his generosity 
 for protection. The claims of the unfortunate prince, to 
 the throne of England, were forgotten in the wants of the 
 wandering outcast, and the gentleman faithfully protected 
 him, until he could depart with safety. At last it was dis- 
 covered that Charles had been secreted in his house, and 
 he was taken before his judges, who had the proof of the 
 fact before them, and who only waited his coming to pro- 
 nounce the sentence of the law. The gentleman prayed 
 permission to speak, and it was granted to him. " Is there 
 one of you," he then said, addressing the judges, "who, in 
 my place, would not have received and protected even the 
 son of the pretender, when he threw himself upon your 
 honour, rather than have yielded him up for trial and exe- 
 cution." The appeal was electric and successful, and the 
 prisoner was set at large. 
 
 During the revolution, when the consequences of a sus- 
 pended commerce and a depreciated currency, were severe- 
 ly felt by every member of the American community, and 
 
GENEROSITY. 85 
 
 want stared those in the face, who had always before been 
 accustomed to affluence, the celebrated continental officer, 
 CoL William Washington, heard that the writer of " Com- 
 mon Sense," was in distress in Philadelphia. It was this 
 work which did so much towards opening the eyes of the 
 Americans to the encroachments of England, and bringing 
 about the revolution. Washington immediately said to a 
 friend, "I cannot bear the idea, that the man, who by his 
 writings has so highly benefitted my country, should feel 
 the want of bread, while the power is mine to relieve him;" 
 and without a sentence more on the subject, remitted by 
 the first conveyance, a bill for a hundred guineas. 
 
 Never did any soul do good, but it came readier to do 
 the same again with more enjoyment. Never was love or 
 gratitude, or bounty practised but with increasing joy, 
 which made the practiser still more in love with the fair 
 act. Shaftesbury. 
 
 The Marquis de la Fayette, when about to take his final 
 leave of this country, in December, 1784, after having ex- 
 pended large sums of his private property in its defence, 
 learned by an extraordinary concurrence of circumstances, 
 unnecessary to be detailed here, the arrival of a young 
 Irishman, with whom he had formerly been slightly ac- 
 quainted in Paris, and who had been driven from his native 
 country by a political persecution, produced by an ardent, 
 perhaps an imprudent zeal, in defence of that country. 
 The Marquis sent for him, and having ascertained that the 
 persecution he had undergone had left him bare of resourc- 
 es, he, without the least intimation of such intention in the 
 interview, sent him next morning four hundred dollars in 
 North America bank notes, in a letter, in which, from mo- 
 tives of delicacy, there was no mention made of the con- 
 tents. When the Irishman went to the Marquis's lodgings 
 to tender his gratitude, he found his benefactor had taken 
 his departure for New Jersey, where Congress then sat. 
 The Irishman who was the object of the Marquis's libe- 
 rality, had to struggle with various difficulties in business, 
 which he finally overcame, and as far as his circumstances 
 permitted, shipped for his benefactor, two hogsheads of 
 tobacco, which were confiscated by the farmers of that 
 article in France, as contraband. On the arrival of the 
 8* 
 
86 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Marquis in New York, in 1824, the grateful Irishman re- 
 mitted the generous donor, a check on the Bank of Penn- 
 sylvania, for four hundred dollars, which the latter kept 
 until his arrival in Philadelphia; when, in an interview with 
 the drawer, he was very reluctant to retain it; but at length, 
 yielded to the urgent request of his quondam protege, with 
 an explicit declaration, that, neither at the time the gift was 
 made, nor then, had he the least idea of the amount being 
 returned. Is it an undue appreciation of merit, to say, 
 that there is probably no other single act of this most exalt- 
 ed and illustrious man's life, chequered as it has been with 
 every species of virtue, which reflects more honour on his 
 character ? 
 
 AVARICE. 
 
 Contradistinguished from benevolence and generosity, is 
 the vice of avarice. The following extracts and anecdotes 
 inserted here for the sake of more evident contrast, will 
 best expose its deformity. 
 
 Many fathers there are, that so love their money and hate 
 their children, that, lest it should cost them more than they 
 are willing to spare, to hire a good schoolmaster for them, 
 rather choose such persons to instruct their children, as are 
 of no worth; thereby beating down the market, that they 
 may purchase a cheap ignorance. It was therefore a witty 
 and handsome jeer, which Aristippus bestowed on a sot- 
 tish father, by whom, being asked what he would take to 
 teach his child, he answered, a thousand drachms ; where- 
 upon, the other crying out, "Oh Hercules! How much 
 out of the way you ask, for I can buy a slave at that rate." 
 "Do then," said the philosopher, "and thou shalt instead 
 of one, purchase two slaves for thy money; him that thou 
 buyest for one, and thy son for another. Plutarch. 
 
 Avarice begets more vices than Priam did children, and 
 like Priam survives them all. It starves its keeper, to sur- 
 
AVARICE. 87 
 
 feit those who wish him death, and makes him submit to 
 more mortifications to lose Heaven, than the martyr under- 
 goes to gain it. Avarice is a passion full of paradox, a mad- 
 ness full of method; for although the miser is the most mer- 
 cenary of all beings, yet he serves the worst master, more 
 faithfully than some Christians do the best, and will take 
 nothing for it. He falls down and worships the God of this 
 world, but will have neither its pomps, its vanities, nor its 
 pleasures, for his trouble. He begins to accumulate trea- 
 sure as a mean to happiness, and by a common but morbid 
 association, he continues to accumulate it as an end. He 
 lives poor to die rich; and is the mere jailor of his house, 
 and the turnkey of his wealth. Impoverished by his gold, 
 he slaves harder to imprison it in his chest, than his brother 
 slave to liberate it from the mine. The avarice of the miser 
 may be termed the grand sepulchre of all other passions, as 
 they successively decay ; but unlike other tombs it is en- 
 larged by repletion, and strengthened by age. This latter 
 paradox, so peculiar to this passion, must be ascribed to 
 that love of power, so inseparable from the human mind. 
 There are three kinds of power, wealth, strength, and talent; 
 but as old age always weakens, and often destroys the two 
 latter, the aged are induced to cling with the greater avidity 
 to the former; and the attachment of the aged to wealth 
 must be a growing and a progressive attachment; since 
 such are not slow in discovering that those same ruthless 
 years which detract so sensibly, from the strength of their 
 bodies and of their minds, seem only to augment and to 
 consolidate the strength of their purse. Lacon. 
 
 While Louis XI. was Dauphin of France, he was often 
 in the habit of hunting in Burgundy, and made an acquain- 
 tance there with a man named Conon, who was a gardener 
 by trade. When Louis became king, Conon travelled to 
 Paris to see him, and carried along a dozen turnips, remark- 
 able for their size and beauty, as a present to his old ac- 
 quaintance, whose fondness for them in his hunting excur- 
 sions he happened to remember. Conon, however, suc- 
 ceeded in getting only one of them to Paris; the others he 
 was obliged by hunger to eat on the way. When he pre- 
 sented this turnip to the king, Lewis was so struck by his 
 simplicity, that he ordered a thousand crowns to be given 
 to him, and told his treasurer to wrap the turnip in silk, and 
 
88 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 preserve it among his valuables. A nobleman who was by 
 at the time, seeing the reward which the peasant received 
 for the turnip, immediately made the king a present of a 
 fine horse, calculating that he would receive as much in re- 
 turn as had been given to Conon, if not more, on account 
 of the real value of the present. Louis received the animal 
 with many thanks, and turning to one of his attendants, 
 ordered Conon's turnip to he brought forth, which he pre- 
 sented to the nobleman ; and seeing this last look rather 
 chagrined and discontented, he said to him, "You must cer- 
 tainly be well satisfied, my lord, since you have got what 
 cost me one thousand crowns, for what did not cost you 
 one hundred." Kings only can take such liberties; but it 
 is a pity that avarice does not meet with more reproofs like 
 this. 
 
 There are two considerations, which always embitter the 
 heart of an avaricious man ; the one is a perpetual thirst 
 after more riches; the other the prospect of leaving what he 
 hath already acquired. 
 
 Ptolemaeus, king of Cyprus, had heaped up innumerable 
 treasures, by dint of hard toil in their accumulation; and as 
 he looked at his piles of gold one day, he thought that the 
 pain of losing them in death would be more than he could 
 bear. He therefore ordered a ship, which he freighted with 
 his wealth, and set sail with the determination to sink it, 
 when at sea, and so enjoy his money to the last. But the 
 sordid wretch had not courage sufficient to keep to his reso- 
 lution; and when the moment came, ordered the helm to be 
 put about, and returned to port, to take the risk of loss, 
 which he was too much a coward to avoid. 
 
 Unnumbered maladies man's joints invade, 
 Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade ; 
 But unextinguished avarice still remains, 
 And dreaded losses aggravate his pains ; 
 He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands, 
 His bonds for debts and mortgages of lands ; 
 Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, 
 Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. 
 
 Johnson 
 
MAGNANIMITY. 89 
 
 History tells us of illustrious villains ; but there never was 
 an illustrious miser in nature. St. Evremondi 
 
 Daniel Dancer, the celebrated miser, never took snuff, 
 which he considered too great a luxury ; but he always car- 
 ried a box about with him. It was his practice to beg the 
 box full by pinches, and then barter the contents for a can- 
 dle at a low grocery, which he made last him, until he had 
 again, by similar means, replenished his box. 
 
 It was Dancer, who after wearing one hat for thirteen 
 years, was peisuaded by a friend to buy another for a shil- 
 ling at second hand. His friend finding him the next day, 
 with the old one still upon his head, inquired the reason, 
 and found that he had sold the new one for eighteen pence 
 to his servant, realized a sixpence by the bargain, and was 
 determined to make the old one last still longer. 
 
 MAGNANIMITY. 
 
 Barbarous or refined, in rags or in ruffles, we are in essen- 
 tials the same. We pursue the same good, and fly the same 
 evils; we loathe and love, and hope and fear from causes 
 that differ little in themselves, but only in their circumstan- 
 ces and modifications. Hence it happens, that the irony 
 of Lucian, the discrimination of Theophrastus, the strength 
 of Juvenal, and the art of Horace, are felt and relished alike 
 by those who have inhaled the clear air of Parthenon, the 
 skies of Italy, or the fogs of London ; and have been alike 
 Admired on the banks of the Melissus, the Tiber, or the 
 Thames. A Scotch highlander was taken prisoner by a tribe 
 of Indians, and his life was about to be sacrificed, when the 
 chief adopted him for his son. They carried him into the 
 interior, he learned their language, assumed their habits, 
 and became skilful in the use of their arms. After a sea- 
 son, the same tribe began their route to join the French 
 army, at that time opposed to the English. It was neces- 
 sary to pass near the English lines during the night. Very 
 early in the morning, and it was spring, the old chief arous- 
 
90 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 ed the young highlander from his repose: he took him to 
 an eminence, and pointed out to him the tents of his coun- 
 trymen. The old man appeared to be dreadfully agitated, 
 and there was a keen restlessness in his eye. After a pause 
 he said, "I lost my only son in the battle with your na- 
 tion; are you the only son of your father? and do you think 
 that your father is yet alive?" The young man replied, "I 
 am the only son of my father, and I hope that my father is 
 yet alive." They stood close to a beautiful magnolia in full 
 bloom. The prospect was grand and enchanting, and all 
 its charms were crowned by the sun, which had fully 
 emerged from the horizon. The old chief looking stead- 
 fastly at his companion, exclaimed, "Let thy heart rejoice 
 at the beauty of the sun ! to me it is as the desert : but you 
 are free; return to your countrymen, search your father 
 that he may again rejoice, when he sees the sun rise in the 
 morning, and the trees blossom in the spring." Lacon. 
 
 The constant disputes between governor Berkely, of 
 Virginia, and the colonists, in the reign of Charles, joined 
 to resentment, arising from the ill treatment which the In- 
 dians received at the hands of both, led Opecancannough, 
 a chief of a neighbouring tribe, celebrated for his ability, 
 both in peace and war, to attack the British settlements on 
 York river. At first he was successful ; but advancing too 
 far into the English territories, he was surprised by the go- 
 vernor, and made prisoner. It was Berkely's intention to 
 have sent him to England, but a brutal soldier wounded him 
 mortally in the back. On this occasion, he behaved with a 
 magnanimity, that would have done credit to his conquer- 
 ors. Understanding from a follower that he was exposed 
 to the curiosity and ridicule of the populace, he turned to 
 Berkely and said, "Had it been my fortune to have taken 
 thee a prisoner, I never would have exposed thee to the in- 
 sults of the rabble. It is glorious to defeat an enemy: bu. 
 it is base to insult him when it is not in his power to resent 
 it." 
 
 After the surrender of York Town to the united armies 
 of France and America, while the allied troops were pre- 
 paring to receive the British, as they marched from the town 
 to deliver up their arms, general Washington riding up to 
 the different divisions of the army, addressed them thus, 
 
MAGNANIMITY. 91 
 
 " My brave fellows, let no sensation of satisfaction for the 
 triumph you have gained, induce you to insult your fallen 
 enemy. Let no shouting, no clamorous huzzaing, increase 
 their mortification. It is sufficient satisfaction to us, that 
 we witness their humiliation. Posterity will huzza for us." 
 
 A private soldier in the army of the great Conde had 
 been illtreated by a general officer, and struck several times 
 with a cane, for some words, which did not merit such cor- 
 rection. He received the blows without shrinking, and 
 merely said, in a cool and collected manner, " That he would 
 make him repent his violence before long." A short time 
 afterwards, the same general wanted a daring piece of duty 
 to be performed, and applied to the colonel of the trenches to 
 find some brave fellow that would undertake it. The soldier 
 in question, immediately offered himself, was accepted, and 
 with fifteen of his comrades, started on the duty. He suc- 
 ceeded, after performing prodigies of personal valour, and 
 returned to make his report to the general officer. This last 
 spread before him an hundred pistoles, being the reward 
 which had been offered for the service. The soldier distribu- 
 ted them all among his companions ; and when asked by the 
 officer, why he would not keep some for himself, he answer- 
 ed, " I am the soldier whom you struck: I told you at the 
 time I would make you repent having done so, and my con- 
 duct, for which you would pay me, is the revenge which I 
 have taken." Struck with the tone and feeling of the sol- 
 dier, the general embraced him, begged his forgiveness, and 
 promoted him to a captaincy upon the spot. 
 
 When some courtiers reproached the emperor Sigismund 
 with conferring favours upon his conquered enemies, instead 
 of putting them to death. "Do I not put my enemies to 
 death," said he, "when I make them my friends." 
 
 There is a story told of a rich man, who heard that an 
 enemy of his had laid a plot to assassinate him, which, if 
 not prevented, would be speedily put into effect. He imme- 
 diately sent for the conspirator, and telling him that he un- 
 derstood his daughter was to be married, and that a portion 
 would not be unacceptable, he presented him with a bag 
 containing a thousand crowns. Overwhelmed with aston- 
 
92 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 ishment and remorse, the traitor retired, and as may readily 
 be imagined, prevented the execution of the plot. The 
 man was asked, why he did not revenge himself, by causing 
 his enemy to be put to death, as he might have done, in- 
 stead of giving him a thousand crowns. "I have saved the 
 life, and reformed the heart of a fellow being," was the 
 reply, "and was not that worth a thousand crowns?" 
 
 He, who being master of the fittest moment to crush 
 his enemy, magnanimously neglects it, is born to be a con- 
 queror. Lavater. 
 
 Two children of M. Ribulus, a person of distinction in 
 Syria, had been put to death by the soldiers of Gabinius. 
 The afflicted father preferred his petition to queen Cleopa- 
 tra for redress, declaring, at the same time, the names and 
 condition of the offenders. Cleopatra caused them to be 
 arrested immediately, and instead of punishing them her- 
 self, as Bibulus expected that she would have done, she sent 
 them in chains to the father, that he might take vengeance 
 upon them, for the death of his children. But Bibulus 
 acted on this occasion, as wisely as generously. He was 
 one of the few, who do not believe that one act of injustice, 
 can be atoned for, by the commission of another; and he 
 therefore sent the soldiers back to the queen, informing her, 
 "That it did not belong to a subject to inflict punishment, 
 for crimes committed against himself; that such was the 
 duty of the monarch. That he was satisfied with having 
 had the power of revenge within his reach; and that he 
 thanked the Gods, who had given him the strength to with- 
 stand the temptation to make use of it." 
 
 When Albuquerque, the Portuguese general, made his de- 
 scent upon Goa,the inhabitants and the soldiers of the govern- 
 or Idalcan fled in every direction. The governor, determin- 
 ed to regain this important city, advanced at the head of forty 
 thousand men, to besiege it. His numbers gained him the 
 victory, and Albuquerque, with a famished and diminished 
 army, was obliged to evacuate the citadel. Some Portu- 
 guese officers, who at this time deserted to Idalcan, inform- 
 ed him, that in the army, which they had left, the soldiers 
 were reduced to gnaw the leather of their shields and san- 
 
MAGNANIMITY. 93 
 
 dais for food. With the most heroic generosity, the Indian 
 general immediately filled a vessel with provisions of every 
 kind, and sent it to Albuquerque, with the message, ** That 
 Idalcan wished rather to owe his victories to the valour of 
 his troops, than to the effects of famine." Albuquerque, 
 however, suspecting that this was only a trick to discover, 
 whether he was really so destitute of food as reported, would 
 not suffer his starving soldiers to taste of the unexpected sup- 
 plies ; but placing a little biscuit and some wine upon the 
 tiller, as indicative of plenty in his camp, he ordered the 
 return of the ship, with this answer, "I thank Idalcan for 
 his courtesy; but can receive such gifts as this only from 
 my* friends." 
 
 Thirty successful campaigns against the Moors, rebellions 
 quelled, monuments erected, and above all, his kindness 
 and justice, procured for Alphonso III. of Spain, the epithet 
 of great. Envious of his father's power, and wearied with 
 waiting for a crown, which the natural course of things 
 must soon have placed upon his head, Don Garcia; the son 
 of Alphonso, took advantage of the momentary discontent, 
 caused by the imposition of a tax, to kindle a civil war. 
 Determined to save the blood of his son and of his subjects, 
 Alphonso convened the assembly of the Spanish people, 
 and in their presence, resigned the sceptre to his son. 
 Overwhelmed by the noble generosity of his father, Don 
 Garcia would have refused the gift; but Alphonso was im- 
 perative ; and the admiration of the Spaniards was at its 
 height, when some time after, Alphonso covered himself 
 with glory, while acting as a simple general under the ban- 
 ners of Don Garcia. A singular spectacle was presented ; 
 a father shedding his blood in defence of one who had de- 
 throned him, and a son placing unlimited confidence in 
 one, whom he had so deeply injured. 
 
 After the death of AH, the successor of Mahomet, his 
 eldest son Hassan was acknowledged caliph by the people. 
 Pliant and peaeeable in his disposition, Hassan preferred 
 the tranquillity of private life, to the vicissitudes of royalty, 
 and resigned the throne in favour of Moavias. This last 
 agreed at the time not to nominate a successor during the 
 life of Hassan, and even to leave the choice of one to Has- 
 san himself. But Moavias soon found these restrictions to 
 9 
 
94 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 be inconvenient, and wishing to secure the succession of 
 the caliphat in his own family, he resolved upon the death 
 of Hassan, and by promising to marry his wife, induced her 
 to attempt it. Poison was given to the unsuspecting Has- 
 san, the rapid operation of which, soon brought him to the 
 verge of the grave. In this situation, his brother intreat- 
 ed Hassan to declare whom he thought to be the guilty 
 person, that had attempted his life ; but Hassan, either fear- 
 ing to name the innocent, or unwilling to disclose the crimi- 
 nality of his wife, replied, "My dear brother, the days of 
 man roll by with inconceivable rapidity. Leave the guilty 
 one to his own conscience here on earth. Before long, 
 both he and I will appear before our God in Heaven." 
 With this admirable reply on his lips, Hassan expired. 
 
 During the yellow fever which raged in Philadelphia, in 
 1793, doctor Benjamin Rush was one of the few physicians, 
 who, discarding all ideas of personal safety, remained at his 
 post, ministering to the wants of the suffering beings around 
 him. In many instances his services were given gratuit- 
 ously ; and indeed, had pecuniary reward been his object, 
 he might in a short time have acquired immense wealth. 
 In many instances the most profuse offers were made to 
 him, and his acceptance of them implored, in return for 
 his medical assistance. A wealthy citizen tendered him a 
 deed of one of the best houses in the principal street, if he 
 would attend his son who was lying ill. A captain of a 
 vessel, whose wife was ill of the fever, requested doctor Rush 
 to attend her, and offered him twenty pounds for a single 
 visit. A patient whom he had cured, in his first feelings 
 of gratitude for his deliverance from death, told his son to 
 open his desk, in which lay heaps of gold, and requested 
 doctor Rush to take the whole as a return for his services. 
 In every instance, however, he limited himself to the fees 
 which he took in usual cases, and refused to make the in- 
 creased sufferings of the people an excuse for increased 
 charges. His constant labours at last overpowered him ; he 
 fell sick, and his life was, for a time, despaired of. He was, 
 however, restored to health, and returned to the discharge 
 of his professional duties, with his usual assiduity. On this 
 occasion, he was strongly solicited to leave the city, and 
 not expose his life any longer to such imminent danger. 
 This he steadily refused to do, saying, "That he would not 
 
INTEGRITY. 95 
 
 abandon the post providence had assigned him; that he 
 thought it his duty to sacrifice, not only his pleasure and 
 repose, but his life, should it be necessary, for the safety of 
 his patients." Doctor Rush, as a representative from 
 Pennsylvania, was one of those who signed the Declaration 
 of Independence. 
 
 INTEGRITY. 
 
 The man who pauses on his honesty 
 Wants little of the villain. Martyn. 
 
 Be honesty our riches. Are we mean 
 And humbly born ? the true heart makes us noble. 
 These hands can toil, can sow the ground and reap, 
 For thee and thy sweet babes. Our daily labour 
 Is daily wealth. It finds us bread and raiment. 
 Could Danish gold do more ? Mallet. 
 
 When a man has once forfeited the reputation of his in- 
 tegrity, he is set fast; and nothing will then serve his turn, 
 neither truth nor falsehood. Tillotson. 
 
 After the well contested action of Stono, during the revo- 
 lution, an American lieutenant, passing over the field of bat- 
 tle, saw a British officer dangerously wounded and unable 
 to move. The latter, on seeing the American, besought 
 him in the most moving accents, for a draught of water to 
 allay the burning thirst which was consuming him. There 
 was no refusing such a request, even had the American felt 
 inclined to do so ; he procured the water therefore, and 
 stooping down, held it to the parched lips of the sufferer. 
 The Englishman drank, and then drawing an elegant and 
 valuable watch from his pocket, presented it to the other. 
 "Take it, sir," he said; "'tis yours by conquest, and your 
 generous behaviour still further entitles you to possess it." 
 " I came into the field to fight, and not to plunder," was 
 the answer: "it gives me pleasure to have rendered you a 
 service, and I ask no other recompense." "Keep it for 
 me then, in trust," rejoined the- officer, "till we meet 
 
96 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 again j for if left in my hands,, it may be wrested from me by 
 some marauder, who, to secure silenca, may inflict death." 
 "I will take it on these terms only," said the American, 
 " that you shall receive it when I meet with an opportunity 
 to return it." Many were the chances of war against the 
 second meeting, and the Englishman had almost forgotten 
 the circumstance, and had entirely given up all hopes of 
 recovering his property, when a package was presented to 
 him, which, on opening, he found to contain his watch, 
 which the American had taken advantage of a flag of truce, 
 to return uninjured to its owner. 
 
 The real honest man, however plain and simple he ap- 
 pears, has that highest species, honesty itself in view ; and 
 instead of outward forms and symmetries, is struck with 
 that of inward character, the harmony and numbers of the 
 heart, and beauty of the affections, which form the manners 
 and conduct of a truly social life. Shaftesbury, 
 
 A right mind and generous affection hath more beauty 
 and charms, than all other symmetries in the world beside : 
 and a grain of honesty and native worth is of more value 
 than all the adventitious ornaments, estates and preferments \ 
 for the sake of which some of the better sort so oft turn 
 knaves; forsaking their principles, and quitting their hon- 
 our and freedom for a mean, timorous, shifting state of 
 gaudy servitude. Shaftesbury. 
 
 It was in one of the antechambers of the palace of Frede- 
 rick of Prussia, that a page might have been seen one day, 
 overcome with sleep, stretched upon a sofa, in profound 
 forgetfulness of the world, and the duties which he perform- 
 ed in it. Above his head a bell was suspended from the 
 wall, and a door near it led to the apartment of the king. 
 The page for some time enjoyed his repose undisturbed, 
 and from the inconvenient attitude, in which he had first 
 fallen asleep, had changed his position into one of perfect 
 ease. Suddenly the bell rang, but not loudly, and without 
 awakening the boy. It rang again, but still the slumberer 
 heeded it not. It might have caused a troubled dream to 
 come over him, for he turned himself in his sleep, and bu- 
 ried his face on his arm. The door now opened, and a man 
 
INTEGRITY. 97 
 
 plainly dressed, but of a noble presence, appeared at it. 
 His countenance bore a slight expression of impatience, 
 •and he advanced as if to awaken the page. His arm was 
 already extended, when a letter on the floor attracted his 
 attention. He picked it up, and opening it, found it to be 
 a letter from the mother of his young attendant, couched in 
 terms of the warmest affection, and thanking her son for 
 the assistance which he had afforded her, by his last remit- 
 tance of a portion of his wages. The countenance of the 
 monarch, for it was Frederick who had entered the room, 
 now changed its expression of impatience, for a look of ad- 
 miration. He dropped the letter where he had found it, 
 and slowly returned to his apartment. In a short time he 
 reappeared. In his hand was a heavy rouleau of ducats. 
 He stole softly to the side of the couch, and bending over 
 the sleeper, employed all his ingenuity in putting them 
 into his pocket without disturbing him. He smiled often 
 as he endeavoured to accomplish his object, and when he 
 had succeeded, manifested all the pleasure which the page 
 himself would have experienced in a similar employment. 
 Frederick now hastened from the apartment, and shortly 
 after the bell rang long and loudly. The boy started up, 
 and after adjusting his dress, hastened to his master. "So, 
 sir," said the king, "you have slept long and soundly." 
 The page in his embarrassment, could make no reply, but 
 stood silent and abashed. Happening in his confusion to 
 put his hand into his pocket, he found there the rouleau of 
 ducats, which drawing out, he gazed at for a moment, in 
 utter astonishment, and at last burst into a flood of tears. 
 " What is the matter now?" said the king, " what ails you?" 
 " Ah sir," replied the page, when sobs permitted utterance, 
 "somebody would wish to ruin me: this money is not 
 mine, nor do I know how it came into my possession." 
 " My friend," said Frederick, " God often sends us good in 
 our sleep : give it to thy mother, salute her in my name, 
 and tell her that I will take care of you both." The page 
 returned to his antechamber, but with a heart too light and 
 gladsome to permit him again to fall asleep, even though 
 the consequences of his slumber had been so happy. 
 
 That integrity is the most exemplary, which pursues the 
 line of duty, when the passions and interests are most 
 strongly excited to cause a deviation. That man is entitled 
 9* 
 
98 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 to but little praise, whose immediate comfort and conveni- 
 ence are increased, or at all events, not materially affected, 
 by his acting right; but all praise is due to him, who pre- 
 serves his integrity unimpaired, when all the emotions of 
 his nature urge him to a different course. He alone can be 
 truly said to have proved his title to the character of in- 
 tegrity. Anonymous. 
 
 The son of a chieftain of the McGregors-,, a powerful clan 
 in the highlands of Scotland, was one day hunting, with a 
 party of his young associates, in the neighbourhood of Gle- 
 narchy, when they met with a young Englishman of the- 
 name of Lamont, from a place called Cowal, who was going 
 with his servant to fort William ; the young Englishman had 
 not been long in company, when an altercation arose 
 among them. Hard words passed, blows were given, wea- 
 pons were drawn, and the son of McGregor fell under the 
 dagger of Lamont. The unfortunate man immediately fled 
 from the scene of the murder, closely pursued by the friends 
 of the deceased. He wandered all night without knowing 
 whither he was going ; and at the dawn of morning made 
 his way to the first house which presented itself. It was 
 the house of the father of the man whom he had slain ; but 
 he knew it not, and calling loudly at the door, he awoke the 
 inmates, and demanded shelter and protection. "Save my 
 life," he said to the elder McGregor himself, whom he saw 
 standing in the doorway, "for men are in pursuit of me to. 
 take it away." " Whoever you are," said McGregor, stand- 
 ing aside to admit him^ "here you are safe." 
 
 Lamont was now conducted to an inner apartment, and 
 was introduced to the females of the family. Scarcely, how- 
 ever, had he got seated, before there was an outcry and 
 great clamour, with reiterated demands for admission at the 
 door. A loud inquiry was at last made, whether a stranger 
 had but lately entered the house* "He has," said McGre- 
 gor: "what is your business with him." "He has killed 
 your son in. a scuffle," said the pursuers, "and you must 
 instantly deliver him up to us, that we may avenge the 
 deed." The emotions of those who stood around* may be 
 more easily conceived than expressed. The main stay of 
 the house was gone, and the murderer stood before the be- 
 reaved relations, entirely at theiff mercy, to sjay or to bid live.. 
 The wife. and daughters of McGregor filled the apartment 
 wAth,, their lamentations, and the father for, a moment gazed 
 
GRATITUDE. 99 
 
 in silent but profound sorrow at his guest. "Be silent," 
 he at last said to the mourners, his eyes streaming with 
 tears, "and let no man presume to touch the youth; for he 
 has McGregor's word and honour for his safety ; and as God 
 lives, he shall be safe and secure while in my house." 
 
 The word and the honour of McGregor were respected 
 by his clansmen; and Lamont remained in perfect safety, 
 until the old chief told him, that according to his wish, he 
 was ready to set out with him, to escort him out of the reach 
 of harm, from any member of the angry clan. He accom- 
 panied him with twelve armed men as far as Inverary, and 
 having landed him in safety on the other side of Loch Finn, 
 he took him by the hand, and thus addressed him. "La- 
 mont, you are now safe. No longer can I or will I protect 
 you. Keep out of the way of my clan. May God forgive 
 and bless you." 
 
 The act of honourable integrity here detailed, was not 
 without its reward. Subsequently, by the cruel policy of 
 the English government^ the clan of McGregor was de- 
 stroyed, and the old chief was driven forth to wander 
 homeless and unprotected. Accident brought him to the 
 house of Lamont, then remarkable for his urbane manners, 
 and the deep contrition which he constantly evinced, for 
 the wild sallies and misfortunes of his early life. He took 
 the old man home to his house, treated him with the great- 
 est kindness, and tried by every means in his power to sup- 
 ply the place of the son whom he had slain. 
 
 Integrity without knowledge is weak, and generally use- 
 less; and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and 
 dreadful. Johnson. 
 
 GRATITUDE. 
 
 There is no benefit so large, but malignity will still lessen 
 it; none so narrow which a good interpretation will not en- 
 large. No man can ever be gratified that views a benefit 
 on the wrong side, or takes a good office by the wrong han- 
 dle. The avaricious man is naturally ungrateful, because 
 he never thinks he has enough ; but without considering 
 what he has, only minds what he covets. Some pretend 
 
100 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 want of power to make a competent return, and you shall 
 find in others a kind of graceless modesty, that makes a 
 man ashamed of requiting an obligation, because it is a con- 
 fession that he has received one. Seneca. 
 
 As there are no laws extant against ingratitude, so it is 
 utterly impossible to contrive any, that in all circumstances 
 shall reach it. If it were actionable, there would not be 
 courts enough in the whole world to try the causes in. 
 There can be no setting a day for the requiting of benefits, 
 as for the payments of money, nor any estimate upon the 
 benefits themselves ; but the whole matter rests in the con- 
 science of both parties; and then there are so many degrees 
 of it, that the same rule will never serve all. Seneca. 
 
 As gratitude is a necessary and a glorious, so also is it an 
 obvious, cheap, and an easy virtue ; and whilever there is 
 life, there is place for it; so cheap that the covetous man 
 may be gratified without expense, and so easy that the slug- 
 gard may be sa likewise without labour. . Seneca. 
 
 When gratitude o'erflows the swelling heart, 
 And breathes in free and uncorrupted praise 
 For benefits received ; propitious Heaven 
 Takes such acknowledgment as fragrant incense, 
 And doubles all its blessings. Lillo, 
 
 When Cardinal Wolsey was in disgrace with his master 
 Henry VIII. of England, those whom he had fostered in 
 the days of his prosperity deserted him; the great regarded 
 him with contempt as their defeated rival ; and the people 
 hated him because he had been distinguished by the odious 
 title of a favourite. Among others who owed much to Wol- 
 sey, was a gentleman named Fitz William. When the 
 cardinal was in disgrace, he wrote to him, and begged him 
 to come to his house, which Wolsey did, and found himself 
 treated with a respectful attention, which his most prosper- 
 ous days scarcely commanded. Fitz William spoke in all 
 companies of Wolsey's talents, and expressed his regret 
 that the nation should lose the benefit of them. This came 
 to the knowledge of king Henry, who sent for Fitz Wil- 
 
GRATITUDE. 101 
 
 Ham, and in an angry and excited tone, demanded how he 
 dared to show kindness to a man who had been guilty of 
 high treason. 
 
 "Sir," replied Fitz William, "I feel the most respectful 
 submission for your majesty. I am neither a bad citizen, 
 nor an unfaithful subject. It is not the disgraced minister, 
 nor the state criminal, that I received at my house : it is my 
 old and respectable master, my protector, who gave me 
 bread, and through whose means I possess the fortune and 
 tranquillity which I now enjoy. And should I abandon in 
 his misfortunes this generous master, this magnificent ben- 
 efactor? Ah no sir, I should be the most ungrateful of men!" 
 
 Henry was * surprised and pleased at the words of Fitz 
 William, and to turn his feelings of gratitude to his own ad- 
 rantage, he knighted him, and shortly afterwards made him 
 his privy counsellor. 
 
 It was on a hot and sultry day, that a poor weaver took 
 his way through the town of Devizes in England. He was 
 hungry and weak, and had not money wherewith to buy 
 himself food. He sat down at the door of a bake shop, and 
 asked the master of the house for relief. The baker gave 
 him a loaf, and when the weaver had eaten it up,, he pur- 
 sued his way with revived strength to Coventry. When he 
 reached there he soon got into business, and by persever- 
 ing industry, became in process of time, a very rich man. 
 He now recollected the loaf of bread, which he had receiv- 
 ed at Devizes, and when he made his will, provided that 
 there should be given annually, to every family in the town, 
 a half penny loaf of bread ; and to every traveller who was 
 in it at the time, a penny loaf. The provisions of the will are 
 to this day strictly attended to, and the annual distributions 
 are regularly made ; and on a late occasion, when the Duke 
 and Duchess of Austria passed through Devizes, they receiv- 
 ed the Coventry loaf, and after hearing the story, which 
 made them that day receivers of charity, partook with much 
 relish of the banquet of the weaver. 
 
 Marshal Darmont, having taken Crodon in Bretagne, 
 gave orders that every Spaniard found in the garrison should 
 be put to the sword. As death was known to be the pen- 
 alty of disobedience, the order of the marshal was too 
 punctually executed. The only instance to the contrary 
 
102 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS, 
 
 was an English soldier, who saved the life of a Spaniard, 
 and protected him from his comrades. The soldier was 
 tried, confessed the fact, and was condemned to be shot. 
 He professed himself quite willing to meet his fate, provid- 
 ed the life of the Spaniard would be spared. The com- 
 manding officer struck with the .man's pertinacity, asked 
 him why he desired to save the life of an enemy, at the sa- 
 crifice of his own. "Because," answered the soldier, 
 "that enemy once saved my life under similar circumstan- 
 ces." The soldier was subsequently pardoned, and the life 
 of the Spaniard was granted to his virtue. 
 
 INGRATITUDE. 
 
 Ingratitude, the opposite to the preceding title, is insert- 
 ed in this place, that the instances of it, which we shall 
 quote, may brighten,, by contrast, those anecdotes of a dif- 
 ferent character, introduced for the purpose of illustrating 
 that duty of man to his fellow man — gratitude for obliga- 
 tions or favours received. 
 
 He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one; 
 All other crimes may pass for virtues in him. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Mrs. Gaunt, celebrated for her active and untiring bene- 
 volence, once received into her house, and secreted there 
 for some time, a person, whose connexion with Mon- 
 mouth's rebellion, in the reign of James II. subjected him 
 to capital punishment. When the proclamation was pub- 
 lished, offering a reward to those who would discover and 
 reveal the secreters and harbourers of rebels, this man in- 
 formed upon his benefactress ; and by a strange perversion 
 of justice, she was burnt alive for her benevolence, and he 
 was pardoned for his treachery and ingratitude ! 
 
 The wretch whom gratitude once fails to bind, 
 To truth or honour let him lay no claim ; 
 But stand confess'd the brute disguis'd as man. 
 
INGRATITUDE 103 
 
 And when we would, with utmost detestation, 
 
 Single some monster from the traitor herd, 
 
 'Tis but to say, ingratitude's his crime. Frowde. 
 
 One of the kings of Indostan, when crossing a river one 
 day, happened to fall in, and would most certainly have 
 lost his royal life, had not a slave plunged into the water 
 after his majesty, and, as there was not much time for cere- 
 mony, pulled him out by the hair, which, as events showed, 
 was considered as a very tender part of royalty, in Indos- 
 tan. When by dint of rolling and rubbing, the king was 
 restored to recollection, for he had been immersed for some 
 time, he inquired who had rescued him, and how it had 
 been done. The friends of the slave thought that his for- 
 tune was made, and forthwith brought him to the king. 
 The result, however, was somewhat different from what they 
 expected ; for the monarch after abusing him for rescuing 
 him by the hair, ordered him to be executed, for having 
 placed his hand upon his royal head. The ungrateful mon- 
 ster, however, went not without his reward; and we are told 
 that retribution came with singular certainty. Not long 
 afterwards, the same king was crossing the same river, and 
 amused himself in talking with one of his women, as he 
 stood near the side of the boat. Again he accidentally fell 
 in, and this time was drowned; although he might have been 
 easily rescued by the woman, who gave as a reason for her 
 neglect to do so, that she recollected the fate of the slave 
 on a similar occasion. 
 
 Where ingratitude, that sin of upstarts, 
 
 And vice of cowards, once takes root, a thousand 
 
 Base and grov'ling crimes cling round its monstrous growth, 
 
 Like ivy to old oaks, to hide its rottenness. Madden. 
 
 The ungrateful man, when once discovered in his ingrati- 
 tude, loses forthwith all the consolations of friendship, and 
 forfeits all claim to the fellowship of the virtuous. Deceit 
 and ingratitude are generally companions ; and deceit is as 
 incompatible with the existence of true friendship, as it is 
 with the exercise of virtue. But ingratitude always carries 
 its own punishment along with it ; for there is no con- 
 science so dull, that it does not continually present this 
 crime, most painfully, to the feelings of him who had been 
 guilty of it. 
 
( 104) 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 "What use can your friendship be of to me," said a 
 friend one day to Publius Rutilius, when the latter had 
 just refused him a favour, "What can yours be of to me," 
 was the answer, " when it would require of me that, which 
 I cannot grant, consistently with niy honour." 
 
 Marcus, the friendships of the world are oft 
 Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure; 
 Our's has severest virtue for its basis; 
 And such a friendship ends not but with life. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 -True happiness 
 
 Consists not in the multitude of friends, 
 
 But in their worth and choice. Nor would I have 
 
 Virtue a popular regard pursue. 
 
 Let those be good that love me, though but few. 
 
 B* Johnson. 
 
 In the war which was carried on between Antony and 
 Octavianus on the one part, and Brutus on the other, the 
 latter was defeated at the second battle of Phillippi, and 
 retreated from the field, accompanied by a few of his friends. 
 They were closely pursued, and a body of Thracian horse 
 came on so rapidly, that capture or death seemed inevitable. 
 At this conjuncture, a friend of Brutus, Lucilius Licinius, 
 threw himself into the centre of the Thracians, and exclaim- 
 ing, "I am Brutus," and praying for quarter, arrested the 
 pursuit. The soldiers were overjoyed with their success, 
 and readily complied with his request to be taken before 
 Antony, instead of Octavianus, which last Licinius alleged 
 he was in fear of. As he approached Antony he was re- 
 cognized as Lucilius Licinius, and he at once addressed 
 the victor. "Be assured, Antony," said he, "that no 
 enemy either has, or ever shall take Marcus Brutus alive: 
 forbid it Heaven, that fortune should ever prevail so much 
 above virtue: but let him be discovered, dead or alive, he 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 105 
 
 will certainly be found in such a state as is worthy of him. 
 As for me, I have delivered myself up to save him : and am 
 now ready to suffer whatever torments you think proper 
 to inflict upon me, without demanding or expecting any 
 quarter. 
 
 To the honour of Mark Antony, he at once appreciated 
 the friendship and fidelity of Licinius, and in place of pun- 
 ishing him, dismissed him to his friends, with every mark 
 of approbation and honour. 
 
 Love and esteem are the first principles of friendship, 
 which is always imperfect where either of these two is 
 wanting-. Budgell. 
 
 The most difficult province in friendship, is the letting a 
 man see his faults and errors, which should, if possible, be 
 so contrived, that he may perceive our advice is given him. 
 not so much to please ourselves, as for his own advantage. 
 The admonitions, therefore, of a friend, should always be 
 strictly just, and not too frequent. Budgcll. 
 
 After the battle in the streets of Rome, between Caius 
 Gracchus, Falerius, and their friends, and* the consul Opimius, 
 the former being defeated, and a price set upon their heads, 
 were forced to fly. When they reached the bridge Subli- 
 cius, Licinius Crassus and Pomponius, two friends of Caius 
 Gracchus, saw, that if the bridge was crossed, there was no 
 hope that Gracchus would escape. Turning themselves 
 round, therefore, they made good the defence of the bridge, 
 until Gracchus had escaped beyond the reach of the pursu- 
 ers. They then, overpowered, fell dead upon the spot, 
 which they had so valiantly defended. 
 
 Get not your friends by base compliments, but by giving 
 them sensible tokens of your love ; it is well worth while to 
 learn how to win the heart of a man the right way. Force 
 is of no use to make or preserve a friend, who is an animal 
 never caught nor tamed but by kindness and pleasure. Ex- 
 cite them by your civilities, and show them that you desire 
 nothing more than their satisfaction ; oblige with all your 
 soul, that friend, who has made you a present of his own. 
 
 Socrates. 
 10 
 
106 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 When Sysigambis, the captured mother of Darius, ap- 
 peared before Alexander the great, she found him attended 
 by his friend Hephestion. By mistake she threw herself at 
 the feet of the latter, who was the more comely of the two. 
 Hephestion modestly retired, and Sysigambis was about to 
 excuse herself on account of her mistake. "You have not 
 erred," said the generous conquerer; "for he, too, is Alex- 
 ander." 
 
 Friendship is the only thing in the world, concerning the' 
 usefulness of which all mankind are agreed. Cicero* s 
 
 False friendship, like the ivy, decays and ruins the wall 
 it embraces : but true friendship gives new life and anima- 
 tion to the object it supports. Burton* 
 
 That friendship's raised on sand 
 Which every sudden gust of discontent, 
 Or flowing of our passions, can change 
 As if it ne'er had been. Massinger. 
 
 Who knows the joys of friendship ? 
 The trust, security, and mutual tenderness, 
 The double joys, where each is glad for both ? 
 Friendship, our only wealth, our last retreat and strength r 
 Secure against ill fortune and the world. Rowe. 
 
 First among the examples of friendship, which the histo- 
 ry of past or present times has furnished us with, is that, 
 contained in the story of Damon and Pythias. 
 
 During the reign of Dyonisius, there were two Syracu- 
 sans, remarkable for the strict friendship, which existed be- 
 tween them, They were named Damon and Pythias. The 
 former was married, and was the father of a lovely child ; the 
 latter was alone in the world, attached to it principally by 
 the affection which he bore his friend. Damon fell under 
 the displeasure of the tyrant Dyonisius, and was condemn- 
 ed to die, and a day fixed upon for his execution. In vain 
 did he implore a respite ; in vain did he entreat permission 
 to visit his family, then residing at a day's journey from Sy- 
 racuse. Dyonisius was inexorable, and determined that 
 nothing should save Damon from destruction. Desirous, 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 107 
 
 however, of appearing less cruel than he really was, he at 
 last told Damon, that he might visit his wife and child, if 
 he could procure any one, who would become a hostage for 
 his return, and, in case of his absence, undergo the punish- 
 ment intended for him. From his own narrow views of 
 human nature, Dyonisius fancied that it would be impossi- 
 ble to procure such a hostage as was required, and consi- 
 dered the fate of Damon as fixed as if no alternative had 
 been offered. Great, therefore, must have been his astonish- 
 ment, when Pythias appeared before him, and in the most 
 joyful manner, offered himself as security for Damon's re- 
 turn. The tyrant asked him if he was aware of what he 
 undertook, and of the temptations which would beset Da- 
 mon to betray him. Pythias declared that he knew them 
 all; and with alacrity assumed the chains from which he had 
 temporarily liberated his friend. Damon now flew to his 
 home, with these words of the tyrant ringing in his ears, 
 "When yonder sun shall sink behind those distant hills, on 
 the third day from this, if thou art not here, Pythias dies.'' 
 He found his wife ignorant of his misfortunes, and in her 
 presence, he forgot, for a time, Syracuse, and the dreadful 
 tragedy, in which it was intended he should be the principal 
 sufferer. Pythias, in the mean while, remained in his dun- 
 geon, waiting with patience the arrival of his friend. Dyo- 
 nisius visited him on the morning of the third day, and 
 taunted him with the prolonged absence of Damon. 
 "Think not," answered Pythias, "that Damon will fail. 
 He is now upon the road. His honour is dearer to him than 
 his life. I am as confident of the performance of his pro- 
 mise as I am of my existence. But I would to Heaven 
 that his return were delayed until to-morrow. I then shall 
 have taken his place upon the scaffold, and by giving my 
 life in expiation of his offence, shall have preserved one far 
 more valuable than myself, and preserved to a wife and child, 
 the protecting care of a husband and a father. Oh ! leave 
 me not to die the worst of deaths in my Damon's." Dyo- 
 nysius was confounded by the heroic sentiments of his 
 victim, and his heart, for the first time, felt softened at the 
 misery of a fellow being; indeed, he almost thought, that 
 virtue, friendship, and benevolence, had a positive exist- 
 ence, and were in fact, more than the mere names, which 
 he had before considered them. For a moment he relaxed 
 his sternness; but again he was the inflexible Dyonisius, 
 and, leaving the dungeon, he ordered the necessary prepa- 
 
108 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 rations for the execution. A scaffold was erected' in the 
 public square, on which stood the executioner, with the axe 
 resting on the fatal block. The evening was clear and 
 bright as ever shone on fair Sicily, and the broad red sun 
 scarce seemed a span from the dark outline of the distant 
 hill, when the solemn procession reached the spot, where 
 Dyonisius, mounted on a splendid car, drawn by six milk 
 white horses, and surrounded by guards, was stationed to 
 witness the death of another victim. Cymbal and trumpet 
 rung loudly over the heads of the assembled multitude, arid 
 iri one of the pauses of the clangor, was heard the loud 
 firm voice of Pythias, as he stood upon the scaffold. " My 
 prayers are heard/' he cried; "the gods are propitious. 
 Damon could not come ; he could not conquer impossibili- 
 ties;- he will be here to-morrow, and the blood, which is 
 shed to day, will have ransomed the life of my friend. Oh 
 could I tear from your bosoms every doubt, every mean 
 suspicion of the honour of the man, for whom I am about 
 to suffer, I should go to my death, even as I would to my 
 bridal. Be it sufficient, in the mean time, that my friend 
 will be found noble ; that his truth is unimpeachable ; that 
 he will speedily prove it; thatjie is now on his way, hurry- 
 ing.on, cursing himself, the adverse elements, and Heaven. 
 But I haste to prevent his speed: executioner do thine office!" 
 As he uttered the last words, he approached the block, and 
 bending down to it, made himself ready to receive the 
 blow, which was to deprive him of existence, when the 
 uplifted arm of the executioner was stayed by the shout of 
 "Stop, stop," proceeding from the crowd, and the near clat- 
 ter of a horse's hoof upon the ground. An animal cover- 
 ed with foam, and bearing an exhausted rider, now sprung 
 into the square. In an instant, the man, who thus stayed 
 the execution, stood beside Pythias on the scaffold. It wa» 
 Damon. "Here I am," he shouted in extacy. "My friend r 
 you are safe. I have nothing but death to suffer, and am 
 delivered from the anguish of those reproaches, which I 
 gave myself, for having endangered a life so much dearer 
 than my own." Clasped in the arms of his friend, Pythias 
 could only exclaim in broken accents, " Why have you ar- 
 rived ? Cruel Damon — fatal haste ! What envious powers 
 have worked impossibilities in your favour ? But I will not 
 be wholly disappointed; since I cannot die to save, I will 
 not survive you." The air resounded with the shouts of 
 the Syracusans, and the long shadows of the mountains 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 109 
 
 crept over the city, when Dyonisius, descending from his 
 moving throne, mounted the scaffold. "Live, ye incompar- 
 able pair !" he cried. " Ye have borne unquestionable testi- 
 mony to the existence of virtue ! and that virtue equally 
 evinces the existence of a God to reward it. Live happy ; 
 live renowned! And oh ! form me by your precepts, as ye 
 have invited me by your example, to be worthy of the par- 
 ticipation of so sacred a friendship." 
 
 Celestial happiness ! whene'er she stoops 
 To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds, 
 And one alone, to make her sweet amends 
 For absent Heaven, — the bosom of a friend, 
 Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft, 
 Each other's pillow to repose divine. Young 
 
 Dr. Friend, an English physician of considerable reputa- 
 tion, was returned to Parliament, in 1722, and took an ac- 
 tive and decided part in the opposition to the ministry. 
 The influence which he exerted was so troublesome, that he 
 was at last arrested, and confined to the tower of London, 
 on a pretended charge of high treason, In this state of 
 affairs, the minister was taken suddenly ill, and sent for 
 Doctor Mead, the intimate friend of the prisoner. After the 
 usual examination of his patient, Doctor Mead, ascertain- 
 ing his disease, informed him that nothing was easier than 
 his case, under proper hands. "Commence it then imme- 
 diately," said the sick man, " I commit myself entirely to 
 your directions." "Sir," answered the physician, "Not 
 one word of advice will I utter, not one drop of medicine 
 will I administer, until Doctor Friend is released from con- 
 finement." The minister heard the reply in astonishment, 
 and in vain endeavoured to change Mead's resolution. 
 The Doctor left him, and there remained no course but to 
 solicit the king for the discharge of Friend. This the king 
 promised to grant, and gave the necessary orders. The 
 impatient minister sent immediately for Doctor Mead, and 
 told him, that before the end of many hours, the prisoner 
 would be free. "When I hear that he is restored to his 
 family, and not before, will I attempt your cure," was the 
 answer. Finally Doctor Friend was set at liberty, and the 
 minister was cured. During the confinement of Friend, 
 10* 
 
110 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Doctor Mead had attended to his practice, and when he left 
 the tower, paid him upwards of three thousand guineas, for 
 fees which he had received from his patients. 
 
 Though judgment must collect the materials of the good- 
 ly structure of friendship, it is affection that gives the ce- 
 ment; and passion as well as reason should concur in form- 
 ing a firm and lasting coalition. Hence, perhaps it is, that 
 not only the most powerful, but the most lasting friendships, 
 are usually the produce of early seasons of our lives, when 
 we are the most susceptible of warm and affectionate im- 
 pressions. The connexions into which we enter at any after 
 period, decrease in strength, as our passions abate in heat; 
 and there is not, I believe, a single instance of a vigorous 
 friendship, that ever struck root in a bosom chilled by years. 
 
 Fitzosborne' s Letters. 
 
 -Some men are more beholden to their bitterest enemies, 
 than to friends who appear to be sweetness itself. The 
 former frequently tell the truth, but the latter never. 
 
 Cato. 
 
 Thou mayst be sure that he, who will in private tell thee 
 of thy faults, is thy friend ; for he adventures thy dislike, and 
 doth hazard thy hatred: for there are few men that can en- 
 dure it; every man, for the most part, delighting in self 
 praise, which is one of the most universal follies that be- 
 witcheth mankind. Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 Is aught so fair 
 In all the dewy landscape of the spring? 
 In the bright eye of Hesper in the morn, 
 In nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair 
 As virtuous friendship ? Akenside. 
 
 If a man does not make new acquaintances a3 he advanc- 
 es through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man 
 should keep his friendships in constant repair. Johnson. 
 
(Ill) 
 
 FIDELITY. 
 
 He who is faithfnl to the trust reposed in him, though 
 danger or interest should tempt him to waver in the per- 
 formance of his duty, is among the most useful members of 
 society. The reliance, which man is obliged, at every turn, 
 to place in his neighbour, if once disappointed, creates dis- 
 trust, and, if more than once, is apt to beget misanthropy — 
 undeviating fidelity to every engagement, whether impor- 
 tant, or apparently trifling, is essential to the harmonious 
 existence of the social compact. Truth, honour and hon- 
 esty are united in the meaning of this one word, fidelity. 
 
 Anonymous, 
 
 When Alphonso, the regent of Portugal, presented him- 
 self before Coimbra, Martin Freitaz, governor of that place, 
 defended it with great bravery against the repeated and vi- 
 olent attacks of the besiegers. At length Alphonso sent 
 him a message, that it was useless to continue to resist his 
 authority, because Sancho, for whom Freitaz fought, had 
 just died at Toledo. The governor believed that this was a 
 stratagem of the enemy, and refused to pay any regard to 
 the information, unless Alphonso would permit him to visit 
 Toledo to ascertain the fact; and, in the mean time, suspend 
 all hostile operations against Coimbra. To this Alphonso 
 readily assented, and Freitaz departed for Toledo. When he 
 arrived there, he caused the tomb of the king to be opened ; 
 and having recognized the dead body, he placed the keys 
 of Coimbra in the ice-cold hands of the dead. "Sire," 
 said the governor, " while you lived, I suffered in your 
 cause, a thousand dangers with my faithful soldiers. Hun- 
 ger and thirst have we borne without complaining; but you 
 no longer live, for us to serve you; and the only duty I can 
 now fulfil, is to return to you the keys of the city, which 
 you confided to my care. I shall go back to Coimbra; in- 
 form the citizens and the garrison that you are no more; 
 and then, without violating our allegiance to you, we may 
 acknowledge your brother Alphonso, for our king." Freitaz 
 then took the keys from the hands of the dead king, and 
 
112 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 returning to Coimbra, presented them to Don Alphonso, 
 The regent, respecting the fidelity of the governor, con- 
 tinued him in the command of the city, and found him 
 as true to his interests, as he had been to the interests of 
 his brother. 
 
 One single fact shews the esteem in which fidelity to the 
 trusts reposed in you, is held by the people. When Cicero, 
 who had through life, discharged all his duties, as became a 
 Roman citizen and an honest man, was banished by the 
 intrigues of dishonest partizans, in the political excitement 
 of the times, twenty thousand persons put on mourning for 
 him. A compliment to virtue, wholly unparalleled. 
 
 Punctuality in the performance of a promise to another, 
 or faithful bodily service to a superior, are not the only spe- 
 cies which rank under the general head of fidelity. That 
 kind of fidelity is perhaps the most valuable, which prompts 
 the utterance of truth, in cases like that mentioned in the 
 following anecdote, 
 
 When Louis XIV. was only fourteen years of age, cer- 
 tain courtiers, in presence of the cardinal D'Estrees, were 
 describing to the young prince the power and magnificence 
 of the sultans of the Ottoman empire. They spoke of 
 their absolute authority over their subjects, and placed their 
 situation in so enviable a light, that Louis exclaimed, " That 
 is being a king indeed." Cardinal D'Estrees, who grieved 
 much to see such impressions made upon the mind of one, 
 who would have the lives and fortunes of so many under his 
 controul, gravely said, although at the risk of doing himself 
 an injury with the prince, as well as with those around, 
 "Sire, two or three of these emperors whom you approve, 
 have been put to the bow string in my memory, even." 
 Louis shook his head, and ceased his eulogiums upon a 
 power, the exercise of which, was accompanied with such 
 dangerous consequences. 
 
 During the revolutionary war, major Andre was sent by 
 the commander of the British forces in New York, to com- 
 municate with the traitor Arnold, at West Point. Andre 
 
FIDELITY. 113 
 
 was in fact, a spy, and as such, secretly, and in disguise, 
 entered the American lines. After staying there long 
 enough to accomplish the object of his visit, he set out on 
 his return, furnished with a passport under the name of 
 Anderson, signed by Arnold. He had proceeded some 
 distance on his journey towards New York, when he unex- 
 pectedly fell in with three American militiamen, John Paul- 
 ding, David Williams and Isaac Vanwert. They hailed 
 him as usual, asked him who he was, where he was going, 
 and what was his business. By shewing his passport, he 
 might at once have escaped; but it seems that, in his mo- 
 mentary agitation and fear of discovery, he forgot it, and 
 immediately offered his watch and some money, if they 
 would let him pass. They smiled at the idea of being brib- 
 ed, and proceeded to examine him, when they found, con- 
 cealed in his boot, a letter which completely disclosed his 
 character, and the object of his visit to West Point. Again 
 did he repeat his offers of money, and redouble his entrea- 
 ties. The three militiamen were inexorable. They con- 
 ducted him to their commanding officer, who forwarded him 
 to the commander in chief; when, after a regular trial and 
 conviction, he was hanged as a spy. 
 
 Congress, in testimony of the high consideration in which 
 they held the fidelity of the captors of Andre, voted them 
 each two hundred dollars a year for life, and a medal com- 
 memorative of the cause which led to the donation. 
 
 An old officer, who had faithfully served both Louis XIV. 
 and his predecessor, on the throne of France, after long 
 waiting in silence for promotion, came in person to solicit 
 from the king, the rank of Lieutenant general. Louis 
 heard the detail of his services, and said in rather an ab- 
 stracted manner, that he would think of it. It was in the 
 open air that they were standing at the time, and the old 
 soldier was covered. "You must make haste then, sire," 
 was the reply of the veteran, who at the same time pointed to 
 his head. "You see, by my white hairs, that I have not a 
 long time to wait." "Nor shall you wait long, my old ser- 
 vant," said the king, "there shall be at least one less to 
 accuse me of ingratitude in neglecting tried fidelity.." 
 
 In the year 1664, in the war which was then carried on 
 between the French and the Turks, there was a smart ac- 
 
\U PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 tion, in which the Turks, for a short time, appeared to have 
 the advantage, and the French soldiers began to fall back. 
 At this moment, an ensign, named Sillery, was wounded, 
 and felt that the wound was mortal. He supported himself 
 for a moment) upon the staff of his colours, and called aloud 
 for one of his companions to take them from him, lest they 
 should fall into the hands of the enemy, and form a trophy 
 to their disgrace. No one came to his call, and he attempt- 
 ed to retreat with them himself. He found, however, that 
 life was ebbing too fast; and wrapping the colours round 
 his body, he quietly laid himself down to die. The Turks 
 were finally repulsed, and the French found the body of 
 their countryman, by the winding sheet of glory, in which 
 he had arrayed himself. 
 
 Mutual trust and confidence are the greatest bonds of so- 
 ciety, without which it cannot possibly subsist. The trust 
 reposed in the servants of the public is so great, and so fre- 
 quently misplaced, that w r e are often led to admire the 
 fidelity of a public servant, as an extraordinary virtue. But 
 though we only consider fidelity in a public servant, as no 
 more than his duty, for which he generally is well paid, yet 
 when we consider the corruption of the times, it is certainly 
 necessary to hold up for imitation those noble few,- who 
 have soared above that corruption. 
 
 High on the seat of justice, 
 He whose firm fidelity can proudly spurn 
 The proffered bribe, nor hears when interest calls, — 
 Graces the rank he holds, more than the rank, 
 And all. its gorgeous show, can do him honour. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 When Sir Thomas Moore was Lord Chancellor of Eng- 
 land, a person who had a cause of great importance to try be- 
 fore him, sent him a present of two richly ornamented and 
 very valuable silver flagons. Now, certainly, this person 
 never would have attempted openly and in express terms, to 
 have bribed the judge; but he thought perhaps, and indeed it 
 is not uncharitable to suppose so against him, that a small 
 bias might be created in his favour, in the mind of sir Thomas, 
 which, although unperceived, even by the judges, might evi- 
 
FIDELITY. 115 
 
 dence itself in a decision in favour of the donor. Sir Thomas 
 saw through the contrivance; for he was a man well versed 
 in the ways of his fellows; but as the attempt to bribe was 
 so covert, that he could not directly charge it, and as there 
 might even have been a doubt on his mind as to the cor- 
 rectness of his suspicions, he said nothing of them, but 
 turning to his servant, and pretending to misconceive the 
 object of the man who brought the flagons, he said, "fill 
 these flagons to the brim with my best wine:" and when 
 they Were full, he said to him, who had brought them,— 
 "Tell your master, that I send him the wine as he wishes, 
 and that, if he finds it good, I pray him not to spare it." 
 
 The Roman Senate sent four ambassadors to Ptolemy 
 Philadelphus, king of Egypt. Now Ptolemy had, the year 
 before, sent to solicit the friendship of the Roman people, 
 and this embassy was meant, on the part of the senate, as 
 a return for the compliment paid to them by Ptolemy. 
 The ambassadors were received by Ptolemy with the great- 
 est kindness and distinction ; and, at the termination of the 
 first interview, he presented them each with a crown of 
 solid gold of great value. They took the presents and ex- 
 pressed their thanks; but instead of keeping them, which 
 they thought would be inconsistent with the disinterested 
 fidelity, which should mark the conduct of persons on their 
 business, they placed them, the next day, upon the different 
 statues of king Ptolemy, which they had seen as they 
 passed through the city. At their second interview, they 
 were loaded with new presents, which, in like manner, their 
 feelings on the subject, would not permit them to retain ; 
 and on their return to Rome, before they would report to 
 the senate the result of their negotiations, they deposited 
 the last presents in the treasury, for the use of the nation. 
 With clean hands, then, and above all suspicion, they de- 
 tailed their proceedings on the embassy. The senate had 
 heard of their disinterestedness, and as it was before the 
 time when Rome ceased to consider virtue in its proper 
 light, as the object of admiration, the senate forthwith voted 
 the four ambassadors, a sum of money equivalent to what 
 they had deposited in the public treasury. It is such 
 examples as these, that has done more to elevate the Roman 
 name than all the countless victories of her legions, than 
 all the sculptured trophies of her temples. 
 
116 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Fabricius, the Roman statesman and general, was sent 
 to treat with Pyrrhus for the exchange of prisoners. When 
 the terms of the treaty were concluded, and the general 
 arrangements made, Pyrrhus took Fabricius on one side, 
 and began to tell him, how much he admired him as a 
 statesman and a general; and at last, when he thought that 
 he had made a favorable impression, he told him, that he 
 would give him as much gold and silver, as would make him 
 richer than the wealthiest citizen of Rome. Fabricius, in 
 reply, assured the king, that he was perfectly satisfied with 
 his condition in life, and concluded by saying, "What 
 would the world think of me, were I to accept your gold 
 and silver; and what an example would I set the Roman 
 citizens? How could I bear their reproaches; how even 
 their looks, at my return? Could I be induced to receive 
 your proffered gifts, would not those awful magistrates, 
 the Roman censors, oblige me to disgorge my ill-acquired 
 wealth, and expose my infamy to the public gaze and scorn? 
 No, king Pyrrhus, you shall keep your presents to yourself, 
 and I will keep my poverty, contentment, and reputation. 
 
 After the flight of Don Sancho of Portugal, Alphonso, 
 the regent, was recognized as king by a majority of the 
 people. Many, however, preserved their fidelity to Sancho, 
 and among the rest Don Ferdinand Pacheco, the commander 
 of the fortress of Celo'rica. To this place Alphonso imme- 
 diately laid siege, and, having reduced the garrison to a 
 state of famine, was on the point of obtaining possession of 
 the citadel, when a bird of prey passed over the town, and 
 dropped from its talons a trout, which it had freshly caught 
 in the Mondego. Pacheco immediately dispatched a. mes- 
 senger to Alphonso, and begged him to accept as a present, 
 the trout, which had thus accidentally come into his posses- 
 sion. "People, who can make presents like this," said 
 Alphonso, "are in no danger of starvation:" and, hopeless of 
 reducing the place, he withdrew his armies to Coimbra. 
 To this day the coat of arms of Celorica is the bird of prey, 
 which saved it from destruction. 
 
 One of the most cruel and vindictive officers in the British 
 army of the Carolinas, during the American revolution, wai 
 Captain Butler. He greatly oppressed the patriotic inhabi- 
 tants, and murdered several of them in cold blood. Finding 
 
RESPECT TO OLD AGE. 117 
 
 himself reduced to extremity, and surrounded by the Ameri- 
 cans, he surrendered to general Marion, and claimed protec- 
 tion under a proclamation of general Matthews. Apprehen- 
 sive lest a man of so sanguinary a disposition should escape 
 the punishment due to his many crimes, the relations of 
 those he had murdered, and who were then under Marion's 
 command, sent a message to the general, requiring that 
 Butler should be delivered to their vengeance. "Tell 
 them," said their commander, " that the man whom they 
 would destroy, has submitted, in the confident belief, that 
 the pardon promised by general Matthews would be grant- 
 ed. Both law and honour sanction my resolution. I will 
 take him to my tent, and at the hazard of my life protect 
 him." A second message then declared, that Butler should 
 be dragged from his tent, and punished as a disgrace to hu- 
 manity. Still unmoved, general Marion answered: — "The 
 villany of Butler is unparalleled; yet, as an officer acting 
 under orders, I am bound to defend him; and I will do so, 
 if I perish." He then placed a guard to secure his prisoner 
 from violence, and at early nightfall, had him removed to a 
 place of security. 
 
 RESPECT TO OLD AGE. 
 
 To affirm that old age is incapable of business, is the same 
 as to maintain that a pilot is of no use in navigation ; 
 because, while some mount the shrouds, others run on the 
 deck, or work at the pump, he sits quietly at the helm. An 
 old man, indeed, cannot perform such actions as require 
 youth ; but he does what is much greater as well as better. 
 It is neither by strength, swiftness, or agility of body, that 
 affairs of great importance are transacted: but by prudence, 
 authority and good advice, which, far from being lost, are 
 even much improved for the most part by age; unless, 
 perhaps, you think that I, who have acted the part of a 
 soldier, a tribune, a lieutenant general and a consul, am 
 now become wholly useless, because I can no longer bear 
 a part in all manner of warlike expeditions, as formerly. 
 But then I inform the senate what is fit to be done, and 
 after what manner. Would you but consult the accounts 
 11 
 
118 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 left us of past transactions, you will find that the greatest 
 States have been ruined by young men, but supported and 
 restored by the old. Cicero. 
 
 The Jewish lawgiver has made respect for old age a sub- 
 ject for especial remark, and a particular precept: "See that 
 thou rise up before the hoary man, and honour the face of 
 the old man." "I am young," said the son of Barachel, 
 "and ye are very old ; wherefore I was afraid, and durst not 
 show you mine opinion. Length of days should speak, and 
 multitude of years teach wisdom." 
 
 An old man entered the circus at the celebration of the 
 Olympic games, when it was very crowded, and there was 
 not a vacant seat to be found. He walked round the ring 
 unnoticed, until he came to that part of the Circus, where 
 the Lacedemonians were seated. The instant they saw 
 him, they rose up with one accord, and offered him a place 
 among them. The Athenians and others, who were present, 
 filled the air with acclamations of applause, when they saw 
 the behaviour of the Spartans. "Great God !" said the old 
 man, in a voice that resounded through the crowded assem- 
 blage, " all the Greeks know what virtue is, but it is the La- 
 cedemonians alone who practice it." 
 
 No where was old age treated with more respect, than at 
 Sparta ; and Lysander the Lacedemonian is reported to have 
 said, that no where else was it so pleasant to grow old as 
 there. There was a young Spartan who said, when he saw 
 some young Athenians borne about in litters, and enjoying 
 themselves at their ease, "God forbid, that I should ever be 
 in a situation, where I could not rise to show respect to the 
 aged." 
 
 Alanus, one of the chaplains of Louis XL of France, a 
 hard-favoured old man, of great benevolence and profound 
 learning, was one day lying asleep in an arbour in the gar- 
 dens of the palace. Magdalene, the wife of Louis, was 
 passing with her attendant ladies, and stooped and kissed 
 the old man as he lay there ; whereupon her companions 
 laughed at her affectionate familiarity. The queen, how- 
 
RESPECT TO OLD AGE. 119 
 
 ever, with great dignity replied, "That it was not to his 
 person, that she had shewn that mark of respect, but to the 
 divine beauty of his soul." 
 
 At Sparta, a magistrate who was young, was not so much 
 respected as a private individual advanced in years. Things 
 however, are too often changed now-a-days, and the very 
 reverse of the Spartan practice, is frequently found to be 
 the case. When an old French gentleman, at the court of 
 Louis XIV. was asked, which he preferred, the present 
 times or the past, answered, "Sire, I passed my youth in, 
 respecting old age, and my old age in paying respect to 
 children." 
 
 In former times, there was a physician in Switzerland, 
 named Michael Schappach, whose wonderful cures had ob- 
 tained for him an extensive reputation for skill and know- 
 ledge. Many persons, — for the times in which he lived, 
 were more ignorant than they are at present, — conceived that 
 there was something supernatural in his success. But on 
 this account, he was not the less visited and sought after ; 
 notwithstanding the various reports, which were in circula- 
 tion, as to his wizard powers. One day, there was collected 
 in his laboratory, a number of persons of the highest rank, 
 who came^there, partially, if not chiefly, from curiosity to 
 converse with Schappach, and see the results of some of his 
 chemical processes. Among the rest were a French mar- 
 quis of very flippant manners, and a Russian nobleman and 
 his daughter, a lady of surpassing loveliness. The French- 
 man endeavoured at first to quiz and turn into jest the old 
 physician ; but finding all his attempts retorted upon him 
 by the Swiss, he ceased his attempts at ridicule. At this 
 moment, a venerable old man with a snowy beard, entered 
 the room, and applied to the doctor for some medicine for 
 his old wife, who was very poor, and suffering for the want 
 of medical advice and common comforts. Schappach turned 
 his back upon his illustrious company, and gave his sole 
 attention, at the moment, to the old man, the sickness of 
 whose wife was a matter of more moment, than the curi- 
 osity of his visitors. While he was preparing the prescrip- 
 tion for him, the French marquis changed his attacks from 
 the physician to the patient, and after several impertinent 
 
120 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 remarks, offered to bet twelve louis'dors, that there was not 
 a lady in the room, who would kiss the peasant with the 
 long white beard. The Russian lady called for a plate, 
 which was brought to her by a servant; when placing twelve 
 louis'dors upon it, she directed it to be taken to the French- 
 man. This last, could not, of course help accepting the bet, 
 as he had offered it in the first instance, and deposited 
 twelve louis'dors by those of the lady. When the plate 
 was returned to her, she left her seat, and advancing to the 
 old man, said, "Permit me, venerable father, to salute you 
 after the fashion of my own country." As she said this, 
 she embraced him, and gave him a kiss. She then present- 
 ed to him the gold which was on the plate, accompanying 
 the gift with these words, " Take this as a remembrance of 
 me, and as a sign that the Russian girls think it their duty 
 to pay respect to old age." 
 
 Arsenius was the instructor of Honorius and Arcadius, 
 the children of the emperor Theodosius, and the subse- 
 quent rulers of the eastern and western divisions of the 
 Roman empire. Their father constantly inculcated the re- 
 spect, which they owed to their master, and set them the ex- 
 ample, by shewing to Arsenius the greatest respect in the 
 presence of his pupils. One day, however, he saw Hono- 
 rius and Arcadius sitting, while Arsenius stood before them. 
 After remarking on their disrespectful conduct, Theodosius 
 deprived them of their princely robes, which he did not re-, 
 turn for a long while, and then only upon much entreaty^ 
 
 COURAGE. 
 
 True valour 
 Lies in the mind, the never yielding purpose , 
 Nor owns the blind award of giddy fortune. 
 
 The human race are sons of sorrow born; 
 And each must have his portion. Vulgar minds 
 Refuse, or crouch beneath their load: the brave 
 Bear theirs without repining. Mallet, 
 
COURAGE. 121 
 
 The British frigate Shannon appeared off Boston harbour, 
 and its commander sent in a challenge to captain Lawrence, 
 of the American ship Chesapeake, to meet him in battle 
 within a certain time. The impetuosity of the American 
 officer induced him to accept the challenge immediately, 
 and sail at once to meet his antagonist With a raw and 
 inexperienced crew, but recently shipped, unacquainted 
 with their officers, and wanting, of course, that confidence, 
 which is the result of acquaintance between seamen and 
 their superiors, Lawrence fought one of the first frigates in 
 the British navy, possessing in an ample degree, those 
 advantages, in which his own ship was so miserably defi- 
 cient. The action was bloody but short; and, as might have 
 been expected, resulted in the capture of the Chesapeake. 
 Towards its close, the American captain received a mortal 
 wound ; and while in the arms of those who were conveying 
 him below, he exclaimed, with a strong effort, "Don't give 
 up the ship." These words have since passed into a bye 
 word. They have been carried at the mainmast of many 
 an American vessel of war, and have given a duration to 
 the memory of Lawrence, co-extensive with the existence 
 of the navy of his country. 
 
 Make thy demands to those that own thy power. 
 Know I am still beyond thee ; and tho' fortune 
 Strip me of this train, this pomp of greatness, 
 This outside of a king, yet still my soul, 
 Fixed high and on herself alone dependent, 
 Is ever free and royal ! and even now, 
 As at the head of battle, does defy thee. 
 I know what power the chance of war has given thee, 
 And dare thee to the use on't. Row*. 
 
 While commanding at another post, major Croghan, an 
 officer in the American army, in the war of 1812 — 13, and 
 only twenty-one years old at the time, received intelligence 
 that the British were marching against Lower Sandusky, at 
 which place was a small stockade fort. Croghan's whole 
 force consisted of one hundred and sixty men, regulars and 
 volunteers, with one six pounder. By a very rapid move- 
 ment, he reached Sandusky before the enemy, and employed 
 the time, which they allowed him, in digging a ditch around 
 the stockade, and otherwise strengthening his defences, 
 11* 
 
in PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 In vain general Harrison ordered him to retreat before the 
 advancing British; Croghan deemed the position tenable, 
 and having infused his own spirit into his officers, he deter- 
 mined to hold out to extremity. General Proctor with five 
 hundred regulars, and seven hundred Indians, now made 
 his appearance ; and having taken every precaution to pre- 
 vent the retreat of the Americans, summoned them to sur- 
 render at discretion. The answer of the youthful com- 
 mander was that of a valiant soldier. He refused to listen 
 to terms, and defied the united strength of the British and 
 their allies. A brisk cannonade was now opened upon one 
 angle of the fort, at which Croghan placed his single piece 
 of artillery, so as to command the breach, which it was ex- 
 pected would soon be made. He concealed the cannon 
 with bags of flour and sand, and awaited patiently, until, 
 having effected an opening large enough, as they thought, 
 to admit of an assault, the British, to the number of two 
 hundred, collected in the ditch, and forming in a solid 
 column, prepared to rush up the ascent into the fort. At 
 this moment the six pounder was unmasked, and its con- 
 tents of slugs and musket balls, discharged upon the enemy. 
 The slaughter was as great as the mode of attack was un- 
 expected. They were thrown into confusion, from which 
 it was difficult to extricate them, under the heavy fire of 
 musketry, which followed the discharge of the cannon. 
 They gave way, for a moment; but again, with heroic bra- 
 very, rushed to the assault. They were again met in the 
 same manner, and again forced to retreat ; until, after re- 
 peated and equally fruitless attacks, they retreated from the 
 fort, which Croghan had thus saved from falling into their 
 hands. 
 
 Courage in a soldier is nothing without discipline. Brute 
 strength has lost its former value in battle. 
 
 At the battle of Guilford, two battalions of North Caro- 
 lina militia were very advantageously posted behind a rail 
 fence, General Green rode up to them before the action, 
 and told them, that if they would only remain firm, and de- 
 liver two fires with deliberate aim, he would give them per- 
 mission to retire from the fight. They promised to do so, in 
 cheerful accents. In a short time, however, they saw the 
 whiskered Hessians and the stout guards advancing at a 
 
COURAGE. 123 
 
 rapid pace. One volley would have checked them. They 
 did not wait to deliver it; but turning round, went off in full 
 and disorderly retreat. As a punishment for their shameful 
 conduct, they were placed under continental officers, and 
 ordered into the regular service for eighteen months. Here 
 they were drilled and diciplined. They became aware of 
 their united power, and panted for an opportunity of en- 
 gaging the enemy. They at last obtained it, and the runa- 
 ways of Guilford were the heroes of Eutaw. In this last 
 action, of three hundred that entered it, one hundred and 
 ninety were left dead or wounded on the field. 
 
 A considerable British force were made prisoners, at a 
 place called Rugely's, in Carolina, during the revolution, 
 by colonel William Washington, in a novel manner. They 
 occupied a large house, which was completely musket 
 proof, and in which they might have made a perfect de- 
 fence against Washington's cavalry. This officer, however, 
 mounted a pine log upon a pair of wagon wheels, manned 
 his wooden battery with the usual compliment of men, 
 lighted the match along side of it, and planted it in full 
 view, but at some distance from the house. He now sum- 
 moned the English to surrender, and pointing to his field 
 piece, threatened them with the consequences of refusal. 
 His threat was effectual. They marched out, and gave up 
 their arms, without firing a shot, and obtained a nearer and 
 mortifying view of the strength of the American artillery. 
 
 He dares much ; 
 And to that dauntless temper of his mind 
 He has a wisdom that still guides his valour 
 To act in safety. Shakspeare. 
 
 During the siege of Fort Erie, in the year of 1813, 
 the British commenced the erection of a battery at night- 
 fall, which, if completed before the following morning, 
 would considerably annoy the American troops within the 
 fort. Before the cannon of the fort could be ranged, so as 
 to strike the work during a night cannonade, it became so 
 dark, that the officers despaired of being able to prevent 
 its erection. A small valley, or ravine, filled with trees, lay 
 between the besiegers and the besieged. While the officers 
 
124 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 were still in consultation, and a firing was kept up, which 
 even the soldiers knew must be ineffectual, a private artille- 
 ryman offered to ascertain the precise range. His services 
 were accepted, although the use of them was not at first 
 very promising. He furnished himself with a dark lan- 
 tern, — one which enabled the holder of it to conceal the 
 light altogether, or permit it to be seen on one side only. 
 "You will find the British without a lantern, I'm think- 
 ing," said one of his companions. " J may," was the reply ; 
 "but I doubt whether you won't want it." Little was anti- 
 cipated from his expedition; and after procuring a small 
 piece of rope, he left the fort, on what appeared to many, 
 a forlorn hope. He ran rapidly down the descent from 
 the walls, and soon found himself among the trees in the 
 ravine. Having carefully examined his lantern, to se,e 
 that no light proceeded from it, he made his way cautiously 
 to the foot of the opposite ascent, and continued to ad- 
 vance very slowly, until he heard the clattering of picks 
 and shovels not far before him. He fancied, too, that he 
 heard the noise of a centinel walking among the brush 
 wood, and for a moment, he crouched close to the earth ; 
 but the sound ceased, and he crept as near the workmen as it 
 was possible for him to do, without being discovered. He 
 now looked back, and saw a single light in the fort, which 
 he had requested might be placed on the battery, which 
 was intended to play upon the British work. He ascertain- 
 ed that he was directly between it and the tall figures of 
 one or two men, seen against the sky, who, from their com- 
 mands and movements, were evidently the directors of the 
 labouring soldiers. To his left was a large tree, and ap- 
 proaching it on his hands and knees, he began to climb it 
 with his lanthorn tied to his back, and- on the side farthest 
 from the enemy. He soon found himself among the branch- 
 es, and continued to ascend, until he got upon exactly the 
 same level with the workmen. He then tied his lantern 
 to a large bough, and hung his coat between it and the 
 British. With the greatest care he then exhibited the light 
 on one sjde only, which, of course, was turned towards Fort 
 Erie. . His object was now accomplished ; the lantern told 
 no tales to the enemy; and he soon found himself again 
 within the fort. "What, escaped with loss of coat and 
 lantern," said the same soldier who had jeered him on his 
 departure. Why those fellows on the hill side have stript 
 you." "My Goat and lantern," answered the artillery- 
 
COURAGE. 125 
 
 man, " I freely gave to them, and they will be the sorriest gift 
 they have had for many a day." The officers were now 
 summoned to hear the report of the scout, and found him 
 on the battery, which had hitherto been so uselessly employ- 
 ed. He pointed to his lantern, which was distinctly 
 Visible. "That light," he said, "is thirty yards on this 
 side of the British, and about ten feet to the left of them. 
 Fire that distance to the right of it, and it will give you the 
 point blank range of the workmen. Make haste though ; 
 the candle is not a long one, and I left it swaying in the 
 wind. I can't warrant it to last till day light." The cour- 
 age and ingenuity of the soldier were now fully appreciated; 
 and a fierce cannonade rolled through the live long night 
 against the opposite hill. At early dawn, instead of a bat- 
 tery, frowning destruction, there was nothing to be seen 
 but furrows of shot-ploughed earth, above which hung the 
 soldier's jacket and the now extinguished lantern. 
 
 The estimate and valour of a man consists in the heart 
 and in the will : there his true honour lives ; valour is sta- 
 bility, not of legs and arms, but of courage and the soul : it 
 does not lie in the valour of our horse, nor of our arm3, 
 but of ourselves. He that falls obstinate in his courage, 
 si succiderit de genu pugnat ; if his legs fail him, fights upon 
 his knees. Montaigne. 
 
 When Wesel was besieged by the prince of Brunswick, 
 the marquis of Castries hastened by forced marches to re- 
 lieve it, and arrived in its neighbourhood, just as the prince 
 had marched to meet him, in preference to waiting an at- 
 tack in the trenches before the town. Although in the im- 
 mediate vicinity, neither army knew the exact position of 
 the other; and the marquis of Castries, keeping his soldiers 
 at their arms during the night, sent the Chevalier d'Assas, 
 an officer in the regiment of Auvergne, to ascertain the 
 situation of the Hollanders. He had not proceeded far 
 from his regiment, before he fell into an ambuscade of the 
 enemy's grenadiers, and in a single moment a dozen bayo- 
 nets were levelled at his breast. "Silence, or thou diest," said 
 the nearest soldier, in a voice which, though whispered, 
 seemed loud from the determination of its tone. D'Assas 
 stepped back a pace, and then shouting, "Hither, Auverg- 
 ne, here are the enemy!" received the bayonets in hiabody. 
 
126 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 and fell back a corpse. The alarm, which he gave, was 
 sufficient, and his self devotion saved the army of Castries 
 from surprize. 
 
 True courage but from opposition flows ; 
 And what are fifty, what a thousand slaves 
 Matched to the sinew of a single arm 
 That strikes for liberty. Brooke. 
 
 Following the example, which had been set them by the 
 people of the United States, when they threw off their allege 
 ance _to the king of Great Britain, the South Americans de- 
 termined to be independent of Spain : and for that purpose 
 the several states or provinces took up arms against the 
 royalist commanders, and finally succeeded in expelling 
 them from the country. The principles involved in the 
 quarrel between Spain and her colonies, tyranny on the one 
 hand, and liberty on the other, naturally drew a great many 
 persons from other countries to assist the latter. Among 
 the rest was lord Cochrane, an English officer of great bra- 
 very, and whose profession was that of arms. Chili and 
 Peru were, at this time, leagued together against the common 
 enemy, and San Martin, the Chilian general, had carried 
 his victorious arms to the very gates of Lima. While San 
 Martin besieged the town by land, lord Cochrane, with the 
 Chilian fleet, blockaded the port. The Spaniards had a 
 fine new frigate lying under the very guns of the castles of 
 Callao, in a situation apparently of the greatest possible se- 
 curity. An American frigate was moored close by her, and 
 a little farther off, was also a British vessel of war. Several 
 gun brigs, belonging to the Spaniards, surrounded the new 
 frigate, and in fine, every precaution was taken to ensure 
 her safety. She was named the Esmeralda, was well man- 
 ned, and fully equipped for a cruise of six months. Lord 
 Cochrane' s fleet was in sight of her, lying under the island 
 of San Lorenzo. Cochrane kept a very close watch upon 
 the harbour of Callao, and was for some time in hopes, that 
 the Esmeralda would attempt to run out to sea, when he 
 was quite confident of overtaking and capturing her. He 
 waited however, in vain; and at last, becoming impatient, 
 determined, as the frigate would not come to him, to go to 
 her. To have done this in the day time, would have been 
 downright madness; for the castles would have easily 
 
COURAGE, 127 
 
 blown his vessels to pieces. He therefore watched his op- 
 portunity; and on a still cloudy night, when there was a 
 slight mist floating like a veil over the surface of the bay, 
 he manned his barges with picked men, and began to row 
 into the harbour. The row locks were lined with cloth, so 
 as to prevent the oars from sounding as they rolled in them, 
 and the sailors dipped these so gently in the water, and 
 raised them with so much care, that the boats glided noise- 
 lessly along. Cochrane was in the first one, and directed 
 his course in such a manner, as to keep the American fri- 
 gate between him and the Esmeralda. The boats kept on 
 until they came to a boom, floating on the water to prevent 
 any thing from passing through it. This, however, was 
 broken and passed, and the Chilians at last found them- 
 selves under the stern of the American frigate. They 
 pulled to the right of her, and when they approached the 
 Esmeralda, they separated to the right and left, and came 
 under each side with an equal number of boats. The 
 Spaniards had not discovered them, and they sprung on 
 board, as may be supposed, without much delay. Lord 
 Cochrane was almost the first man. In a minute or so, all 
 the Spaniards were at their arms, and fought like so many 
 heroes. The Chilian sailors run up the jib, and crowded all 
 sail on the frigate, and while she was sailing out of the har- 
 bour, the fight continued on board of her. The soldiers at 
 the castles heard the sound of fire arms from the shipping ; 
 and being informed of the cause by some Spanish sailors, 
 who had jumped overboard and swam ashore, when Coch- 
 rane first boarded the Esmeralda, they began to fire in the 
 direction of the ships, in the hope of preventing the loss of 
 their frigate. The American and the British frigates, in 
 order to save themselves from the shot of the castles, hoist- 
 ed signals to distinguish them ; for they had nothing to do 
 with the quarrel. But Cochrane was not to be left alone, 
 in this manner, to stand the brunt of the firing; and so he 
 run up similar signals ; so that it was impossible to tell which 
 was the Esmeralda, in the darkness of the night. The 
 wind was very light indeed, and the ships moved slowly 
 enough, and for some hours were exposed, uninjured how- 
 ever, to the fire of the castles. At last the shot fell into the 
 water before it reached the frigates; and by this time Lord 
 Cochrane had completely overpowered the Spaniards on 
 board of the Esmeralda, and made himself master of the 
 ship. In the morning he was safely moored in his old 
 
128 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 place, under the island, and the Chilian flag was to be seen 
 from the castles, flying over the Spanish, at the mast head of 
 the Esmeralda. 
 
 During the fight above described, a striking instance of 
 cowardice occurred, which we insert here, to setoff better the 
 act of bravery, which we have related. The last boat in the 
 line of the Chilian barges, instead of following the others, 
 and uniting in the attack upon the Esmeralda, left the line, 
 and pulled under the cabin windows of the American fri- 
 gate, and held on to the rudder chains. The American 
 officers begged and implored the men to go and help their 
 companions ; but they would not, and remained where they 
 were, until the danger of the fight was over. They then 
 let go, and pulling up to the Esmeralda, mounted her sides 
 unnoticed in the confusion, and got at the time, an equal 
 share of the honour attached to the enterprize. 
 
 This is true courage, not the brutal force 
 Of vulgar heroes, but the firm resolve 
 Of virtue and of reason. He who thinks 
 Without their aid to shine in deeds of arms, 
 Builds on a sandy basis his renown ; 
 A dream, a vapour, or an ague fit 
 May make a coward of him. Whitehead. 
 
 When William, surnamed, from the conquest of England, 
 the conquerer, landed in England, he burnt the vessels 
 which had been brought him and his troops from Norman- 
 dy: and when asked by some of his officers, how he in- 
 tended to return to his own country, he answered in these 
 emphatic words, "Make this your country." 
 
 It was proclaimed throughout the besieging army, at the 
 attack upon Phillipsburgh, that a large sum of money 
 would be paid to that grenadier, who should plant a fascine 
 in a ditch, which was very much exposed to a destructive 
 fire from the garrison. The grenadiers heard the proclama- 
 tion as they stood in their ranks ; but no one stepped for- 
 ward to claim the reward. Their officer began to reprimand 
 them for their want of enterprize, if not of courage, when 
 
COURAGE. 129 
 
 one of the soldiers, acting as spokesman for the others, 
 said, "We should, every one, have offered ourselves, if you 
 had not set a price upon the action." 
 
 In the year 1688, the Poles, Austrians and Venetians, 
 entered into a. league against the Greeks, and the allied 
 army, under the command of a Polish general, commenced 
 hostilities by entering Moldavia. The first attack was 
 made upon a small town defended by a strong fortress. 
 The inhabitants of the town, and with them, the garrison 
 of the fortress, had fled ; and when the Polish general made 
 his appearance, the only occupants of the fort were eigh- 
 teen Moldavian hussars, who had arrived at the town by 
 accident, and seeing the approach of the Poles, had thrown 
 themselves into the fortress. They raised the drawbridge, 
 closed the gates, and when summoned to surrender, made 
 as valiant an answer, as if each man had been a thousand. 
 The Polish general made regular advances, and battered 
 the walls for four days, during which time, the Moldavians 
 were any thing but idle, and did much execution in the 
 ranks of the besiegers, where every ball which they fired, 
 told. They killed the chief of the artillery, and many 
 other officers of distinction ; and at last, on the evening of 
 the fourth day, finding themselves reduced to nine men, 
 they made proposals to capitulate. This they were permit- 
 ted to do ; and they were allowed by the articles to march 
 out in military order, and go whither they wished. The 
 army of the allies was collected to witness their departure ; 
 and the gates opened at last, to let out, as the allies 
 thought, a formidable body of men. Those who came 
 out were formidable indeed, but in spirit only ; for there 
 were but six uninjured, and these bore on their shoulders 
 three of their wounded comrades. The Polish general was 
 mortified beyond measure, when he ascertained how few 
 men had been opposed to him, and his first feeling was that 
 of anger. Admiration for the courage of his opponents, 
 however, induced him to keep his promise, and he dismis- 
 sed the brave band with praises for their heroic defence. 
 
 Who fights 
 With passions, and overcomes them, is indued 
 With the best virtue, passive fortitude. Mastinger, 
 12 
 
130 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 At the siege of Vienna, by the Turks, when the warriors 
 of Soliman II. were about attempting to carry the place by 
 assault, two soldiers of the garrison, the one a German, and 
 the other a Portuguese, were engaged in settling a private 
 quarrel, at the point of the sword. One of them glancing 
 his eye around, saw the Ottoman flag waving upon the wall, 
 and immediately exclaimed to his adversary, "How much 
 more glorious would it be, to prove our courage against 
 the common enemy, than to exhaust it here in a miserable 
 duel." The Portuguese, to whom the remark was addres- 
 sed, agreed to its propriety, and the two combatants embrac- 
 ing, were, in a few moments, in the thickest of the battle. 
 The German was disabled and thrown down, and the spear 
 of a Janissary would, in another instant, have finished his 
 existence, if the Portuguese had not killed the assailant. 
 The Portuguese received his death wound in the attempt 
 to protect the German, and sinking by his side, they soon 
 perished in each other's arms. History, which has recorded 
 the names of many tyrants and assassins, has suffered the 
 names of these heroic soldiers to sink into oblivion! 
 
 On valour's side the odds of combat lie } 
 The brave live glorious, or lamented die : 
 The wretch who trembles in the field of fame, 
 Meets death, or, worse than death, eternal shame. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 After the assassination of Henry III. of France, the duke 
 of Navarre ascended the vacant throne, under the title of 
 Henry IT. a name afterwards so deservedly celebrated. 
 His crown was violently disputed by the Catholic princes of 
 the league, at the head of whom was the duke of Mayenne, 
 who acted in the name of the Cardinal Bourbon, the oppo- 
 nent of Henry IV. After various successes, the army of 
 the duke of Mayenne was attacked by the king, under the 
 walls of Yvri, and completely routed. As Henry rode along 
 the ranks of his soldiers, he thus addressed them: "My 
 lads, if you lose sight of your colours, rally towards this," 
 pointing to a large white plume he wore in his hat; " You 
 will always find it in the road to honour. God is with us:" 
 and so saying, he rushed into the thickest of the fight. A 
 youth who carried the royal white coronet, and a page, who 
 wore a large white plume, like that of the king, being slain. 
 
COURAGE. 131 
 
 the ranks began to give way, some falling to the right, some 
 to the left, till they recognized Henry by his plume and his 
 horse, fighting desperately, with sword in hand, in the 
 first line, when they returned to the charge, shutting them- 
 selves close together like a wedge. When the ranks of the 
 enemy were broken, and great slaughter committed among 
 them, he cried aloud, "Spare my French subjects," forget- 
 ting that they were hi3 enemies. 
 
 The brave do never shun the light; 
 Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; 
 Truly without disguise, they love or hate ; 
 Still are they found in the fair face of day, 
 And Heaven and men are judges of their actions. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 Stationed at the head of a regiment, where the fight was 
 the warmest, in the battle on the plains of Abraham, under 
 the walls of Quebec, general Wolfe, in the first moments of 
 success, received a wound in his wrist. Wrapping his 
 handkerchief round the place, and concealing the pain 
 which it gave him, he continued to give his orders with the 
 utmost composure, until struck by a musket ball on the 
 breast, when he was carried, mortally wounded, to the rear. 
 When at a short distance from the front line, he desired to 
 be laid down, and being asked if he would have a surgeon, 
 replied, "It is needless; it is all over with me." An officer 
 present, soon after exclaimed, "They run! see how they 
 run !" " Who run ?" said Wolfe, with great earnestness, and 
 starting like one from a deep sleep. "The enemy, sir; they 
 give ground in every direction." "What?" said the dying 
 man, "do the cowards run already? Go, one of you, my 
 lads, to colonel Burton, tell him to march Webb's regiment 
 with all speed down to Charles river, to cut off the retreat 
 of the fugitives from the bridge," Then turning on his 
 side, he added, "Now, God be praised, I will die in peace," 
 and instantly expired. 
 
 True courage has so little to do with anger, that there 
 lies always the strongest suspicion against it, where this 
 passion is highest. The true courage is cool and calm. 
 The bravest of men have the least of a brutal bullying in- 
 dolence; and, in the very time of danger, are found the 
 
132 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 most serene, pleasant and free. Rage, we know, can make 
 a coward forget himself? and fight. But what is done in 
 fury or anger, can never be placed to the account of cour- 
 age. Shaftesbury. 
 
 At the siegs of York, the young Baron de Carendeffez, 
 then only fifteen, was sent into a magazine, to serve out 
 powder to the French artillery, Several soldiers accompa- 
 nied him, and seating himself on a barrel, he commenced 
 opening the ammunition chests. At this moment, a bomb 
 fell within three feet of him. The soldiers ran in every di- 
 rection, fearing death from the expected explosion. The 
 young officer remained unmoved in his place, and presently 
 remarked that the match was extinguished. He then called 
 his men, and coolly continued his occupation. The anec- 
 dote was told the next day, and he was reproached for not 
 escaping with the others. "I was sent to deliver powder," 
 was the reply, " not to scamper off like a poltroon." 
 
 The rapid and unprecedented swelling of the waters of 
 the river Adige, carried away a great part of the bridge 
 over the river at Verona, leaving only the centre arch stand- 
 ing, on which there was a small building, whose occupants 
 were shut up in it, and deprived, to appearance, of all 
 means of escape. In this disastrous situation, they shriek- 
 ed for aid to the thousands who lined the shores of the 
 river; but not one of all these was found bold enough to 
 volunteer to save them. Their situation was becoming 
 every moment more desperate, when the count of Spolo- 
 verni offered a reward of one hundred ducats to any one 
 who would bring them on shore. Still, no one came for- 
 ward; when a countryman, who had been attracted by the 
 crowd, offered, after all hopes of finding a deliverer had 
 ceased, to attempt their rescue. He got into a boat and 
 pulled with the oars, until, by main strength, he had, at the 
 risk of his life, forced it under the archway of the bridge. 
 Here he held it, until, one by one, the whole family had 
 descended into it. He then made for the r shore, and land- 
 ed the grateful beings in safety. The reward was tendered 
 to him, but he refused to accept it, saying, "I do not sell 
 my life, and I can earn enough for my daily wants. Rather 
 give the money to those whom I have saved, and whom the 
 flood has deprived of their all." 
 
COURAGE. 133 
 
 What is that you would impart to me ? 
 If it be aught toward the general good, 
 Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other, 
 And I will look on both indifferently: 
 For, let the gods so speed me as I love . 
 The name of honour more than I fear death. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 In an expedition from Charleston against the British, 
 lieutenant Moon, of the partizan troops, was dangerously 
 wounded, and it became necessary to amputate a limb, which 
 was much shattered. He had fallen into the hands of the 
 enemy, and the operation was performed by British sur- 
 geons. When it was finished, the lady in whose house he 
 was, remarked, when they were alone, " I am happy that 
 you have suffered so little pain ; I was constantly in the 
 next room, and did not hear a groan." "My kind friend,' 5 
 he answered, "I felt not the less agony; but I would not 
 have breathed a sigh, in the presence of British officers, to 
 have secured a long and fortunate existence." 
 
 In the midst of the action at Quinby, during the revolu- 
 tionary war, colonel Baxter, an officer of great bravery and 
 presence of mind, exclaimed to his commander, " I am 
 wounded, sir." "Think no more of it, Baxter," said the 
 other; "but stand to your post." "But I can't stand, sir, I 
 am wounded a second time." " Then lie down, Baxter, 
 but do not quit your post." "Sir," cried the wounded man, 
 as a third bullet struck him, " they have shot me again, and 
 if I remain any longer here, I shall be shot to pieces." 
 "Be it so then, but stir not." He obeyed the order. The 
 fight continued around and above him, and before it was 
 ended, a fourth ball passed through him. Fortunately, none 
 of his wounds were fatal. 
 
 On the approach of the British to Charleston, during the 
 revolution, a battalion of Hessians were thrown into, and 
 maintained for some time possession of, the house of Mr. 
 Gibbs, on the banks of the Stono. Two American gallies 
 were despatched up the river, in the night, and commenced 
 a very brisk fire of round and grape shot, for the purpose 
 of annoying the enemy. Mr. Gibbs's family had been per- 
 mitted to remain in the garret of the house, but they were 
 12* 
 
134 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 now expelled, and driven, in the thickest of the fire, towards 
 a neighbouring plantation. After they had got beyond the 
 reach of the balls, which had fallen around and whistled over 
 them, at every step of their progress, they discovered that 
 a distant relation, quite an infant, had been left behind. 
 Large rewards were offered to the servants, to return for 
 him; but the danger deterred them, and they refused to go. 
 At this time, Miss Mary Gibbs, only thirteen years of age, 
 insisted upon returning. She reached the house uninjured : 
 but it was a long time before she could obtain admission. 
 At last, however, the Hessian centinel, moved by her tears 
 and entreaties, permitted her to enter. She ran to the 
 garret, found the child, and reached her parents in safety, 
 although covered with earth by the shot which struck about 
 her path. 
 
 An American soldier, flying on one occasion from a party 
 of British, who pursued him at a short distance, took refuge 
 in the house of Mrs. S. of Carolina, and besought her pro- 
 tection. His enemies arrived in a few moments, and 
 threatened instant destruction to the property, unless he 
 was given up. The ladies and companions of Mrs. S. who 
 were present at the time, shrunk from the unequal quarrel, 
 and were silent; but the intrepid woman, placing herself 
 before the chamber, to which the unfortunate fugitive haoV 
 been conducted, resolutely said : " To men of honour, the 
 chamber of a lady should be as sacred as the sanctuary. I 
 will defend the passage to mine, though I perish. You 
 may succeed and enter it, but it shall be over my corpse." 
 Struck with her noble and energetic manner, the officer 
 ordered his soldiers to retire, and suffered the fugitive to 
 remain unmolested. 
 
 The following story of woman's devoted courage, is 
 among the most remarkable that are on record. A crowd 
 of people were seen collected round the opening of a com- 
 mon sewer, in a town in France, by a young woman, a ser- 
 vant at a neighbouring inn, at a late hour in the night. She 
 immediately ran to the spot, and found, upon inquiring, 
 that four men, who had been incautiously walking along 
 the street, had fallen into it, and were, if not already dead, 
 in danger of instant destruction, from the noxious vapour 
 at the bottom. Every body around was lamenting their 
 
PATRIOTISM. 135 
 
 probable fate ; but none offered to attempt to extricate them. 
 The young woman procured a rope, and insisted that she 
 should be lowered down. The entreaties of the by-stand- 
 ers, that she would not expose her life, availed nothing. 
 She was resolute in her purpose, and in a few minutes was 
 Jet down by the rope into the sewer. She fastened the rope 
 to the bodies of two of the men, and was drawn up with 
 them. They were both alive. She descended a second 
 time, and just as she had fastened the rope to the third 
 man, 3, faintness came over her, and she had only sufficient 
 strength and presence of mind left, after attaching herself 
 to the rope by her long and beautiful hair, to give the signal 
 to be drawn up. It was obeyed, and by the time she reach- 
 ed the surface, she was as inanimate as her companion. 
 Both, however, were restored ; when, to the astonishment ot 
 all around, the young woman insisted upon returning for 
 the fourth man. She did so ; but her last labour was ineffec- 
 tual ; and she had the grief to see, that a senseless and irre- 
 coverable corpse was the companion of her third perilous 
 asCent. The delay had been too great; and he had perish- 
 ed, while they were endeavouring to restore his intended 
 deliverer. 
 
 PATRIOTISM. 
 
 To be attached to the subdivision, to love the little pla- 
 toon we belong to in society, is the first principle (the germ, 
 as it were) of public affections. It is the first link in the 
 series by which we proceed towards a love to our country 
 and to mankind. The interests of that portion of the social 
 arrangement is a trust in the hands of all those who com- 
 pose it ; and as none but bad men would justify it in abuse, 
 none but traitors would barter it away for their own per- 
 sonal advantage. Burke. 
 
 Xerxes, the great, was rapidly advancing through Thessaly 
 and Bceotia to Attica, and the alarmed Athenians anticipated 
 their speedy destruction. Already, they imagined their tem- 
 ples and their gods in the power of the conqueror. They 
 now recollected the unjust acts, which they had committed 
 
136 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 in their hour of prosperity, and trembled, lest their injured 
 fellow citizens, should have joined the ranks of Xerxes. 
 " Would to the gods, that Aristides were here!" was the 
 general wish, as they recalled the noble integrity of his 
 character, his determination of purpose, and his unmerited 
 exile. Aristides was recalled by those who had banished 
 him. The enemies, whose only accusation against him 
 was, that they were tired of hearing him always called the 
 just, were obliged to bid him return; but, they alleged, it 
 was to prevent his joining the Persians, under Xerxes. But 
 little did they understand the character of Aristides, if they 
 believed him capable, though an exile, of treachery. Away 
 from Athens, he had still excited the Athenians to resist- 
 ance, and when he returned, acted under the command, 
 and gave his whole energies to forward the plans of, The- 
 mistocles. Under the circumstances of his recall, his part- 
 ing words, on going into exile, might have been deemed 
 almost prophetic. His prayer was, "That the people of 
 Athens might never see the day, that should force them to 
 remember Aristides." 
 
 A Lacedemonian woman, who, during the siege of & 
 town, had placed her eldest son in a very exposed situation, 
 saw him, at last, fall dead at her feet. With the greatest 
 coolness, she turned and said to those around her, " Let 
 them bring my next son, to replace the first." 
 
 -The patriot's breast 
 
 No hopes, no fears, but for his country knows, 
 And in her danger loses private woes. 
 Learn hence, ye Romans, on how sure a base 
 The patriot builds his happiness ; no stroke, 
 No keenest, deadliest, shaft of adverse fate, 
 Can make his generous bosom quite despair, 
 But that alone by which his country falls. 
 Grief may to grief in endless round succeed, 
 And nature suffer when our children bleed : 
 Yet still superior must that hero prove, 
 Whose iirst, best passion is his country's love. 
 
 Whitehead. 
 
 Rome, two hundred and forty-six years after its founda- 
 tion, wai besieged by Porsenna, king of the Ettrurians. AH 
 
PATRIOTISM. 137 
 
 the rude warfare of the times was used against the city; and 
 with a numerous foe around, and with famine within its 
 walls, it was reduced to the severest state of distress. 
 While the inhabitants were debating which course they 
 should pursue, a Roman, named Mutius Scsevola, offered to 
 descend from the capitol, seek the tent of Porsenna, and 
 poignard him in the midst of his guards. Those around 
 him embraced eagerly any expedient, which held forth the 
 remotest prospect of aid ; and with the belief, that, if their 
 general could be slain, the Ettrurians would retire, Mutius 
 started on his dangerous errand. With some caution and 
 address, he penetrated unsuspected, into the camp, and at 
 last found himself before the tent of Porsenna. Two per- 
 sons were in it, and, taking the one nearest to him to be the 
 king, he sprung forward and buried his dagger in his bosom. 
 The person stabbed fell dead on the ground, and the other, 
 calling upon the neighbouring guards, quickly pinioned the 
 murderer. From their exclamations Mutius learned, that 
 he had mistaken his victim, and killed only the secretary of 
 Porsenna. To their inquiries as to his name and purpose, 
 he fiercely answered; "I am a Roman citizen, and they 
 called me Mutius. You see an enemy, who would have 
 slain his enemy; and I have the same courage to suffer 
 death myself, that I have to inflict it upon him." At the 
 same time, he thrust his hand into a brazier, which stood 
 near, and in which the flame was kindled for a sacrifice; 
 and he looked at it while burning, without shewing the 
 slightest symptoms of pain. The king of the Ettrurians, as- 
 tonished at his courage, had him taken from the altar and 
 restored to his liberty, "That you may learn how to 
 honour virtue," said Mutius, u know, that there are three 
 hundred Romans, who, iike myself, have sworn to take 
 away your life. Torture never could have extorted this 
 secret from me ; but I give it to your generosity." Porsen- 
 na, in admiration of the courage of the Romans, as well 
 as through fear perhaps, of their desperation, immediately 
 raised the siege, and Mutius was hailed as the saviour of his 
 country. 
 
 Epaminondas, the Theban, was struck in the breast by a 
 spear, in the thick of battle, and fell, mortally wounded, on 
 the ground. His chief anxiety was for the safety of his 
 arms, which he feared might fall into the. hands of the 
 
138 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 enemy. At length they were brought to him, and his shield 
 shewn to him in the hands of his friends, while, at the same 
 time, he was told, that the Thebans had gained the victory. 
 His dying countenance became placid and cheerful, and 
 addressing the bystanders, he said to them, "My friends, do 
 not look on this day as the last of my life, but as the first 
 of my happiness, and the completion of my glory. I leave 
 my country victorious, the proud Spartans humbled, and 
 Greece emancipated from servitude." Then, drawing the 
 spear head from the wound, the Theban general expired 
 without a groan. 
 
 He that sincerely loves his country, leaves the fragrance 
 of a good name to a hundred ages. 
 
 Rome was the scene of civil discord and confusion, when 
 Valerius Publicola repulsed Herodotus, who had endea- 
 voured to possess himself of the capitol. Publicola was 
 slain at the head of his troops; and, as he was consul, it be- 
 came necessary to choose another in his stead. Those 
 who, in the troubled times of the republic, had raised them- 
 selves to distinction, and stood forward as the prominent 
 candidates for the office, were either stained by some evil 
 deed, or were suspected of an ambition, inconsistent with 
 the liberties of Rome. The enemies, internal as well as 
 external, of the city, were many and strong, and the election 
 of a consul became of immediate importance. The choice 
 fell upon Cincinnatus, and a delegation from the senate 
 was sent to invite him to Rome. Cincinnatus was already 
 an old man, but of strong intellect and undoubted integrity. 
 He possessed a small farm, at some distance from Rome, 
 and was engaged in the cultivation of it, when the ambas- 
 sadors arrived. They expected to have found him in a far 
 different employment, one more consistent with the rank 
 to which he had been elected. One of his friends, who 
 saw him in the garb of a husbandman, guiding his oxen in 
 the field, hastened to him, and begged him. to prepare for 
 the coming of the delegation from the senate, by putting 
 on a more suitable dress. Cincinnatus accordingly present- 
 ed himself at the door of his humble habitation, clothed in 
 the fashion of a Roman of the lower orders. His appoint- 
 ment was then signified to him; he was invested with the 
 insignia of office, and hailed as consul of the republic. It 
 
PATRIOTISM. 139 
 
 was evening when the ambassadors arrived, and the last 
 rays of the sun gave a soft and tender beauty to the farm of 
 Cincinnatus. The trees which he had planted, as * they 
 threw their dark shadows towards him, the fields on which 
 the crop was fast ripening, the mute eloquence of a thou- 
 sand inanimate acquaintances, all seemed to solicit him to 
 remain. On the other hand, the lictors had ranged them- 
 selves before him, and had raised their fasces before the 
 future consul, and the surrounding Romans were uttering 
 all the hopes of ambition. Nature prevailed, and Cincinna- 
 tus burst into tears. His country, however, claimed the sa- 
 crifice, and he commenced his progress to Rome. Once, 
 as he gained the summit of the last hill, from which he 
 could observe his farm, he paused, and gazed on it for a 
 moment. "My field will not be sown this year," he said, 
 and with this simple remark, reached the city, to which he 
 was to assist in appropriating the surname of eternal. 
 
 On his arrival in Rome, Cincinnatus at once entered 
 upon the discharge of the duties of his office. His charac- 
 ter for virtue threw the vicious into disrepute ; his firmness 
 intimidated the factious; he re-established the regular ad- 
 ministration of the laws, which had been for so many years 
 neglected; and when, at the expiration of the consulship, 
 he resigned his office, he left the republic in peace both at 
 home and abroad. In vain did the senate entreat him to 
 remain their ruler. Wealth and increased power had no 
 temptations to offer, which Cincinnatus was unable to 
 refuse; he continued inexorable, and resigning the insig- 
 nia and powers of the office into other hands, he retired 
 solitarily to his farm. But he was still essential to his 
 country. Domestic troubles again involved the state. War 
 from without again threatened it with destruction. The go- 
 vernment used its greatest efforts to overcome the impend- 
 ing dangers, without resorting to powers, which but ill ac- 
 corded with their republican institutions. At last, how- 
 ever, the Roman Senate was forced to declare, that the inte- 
 rests and safety of the commonwealth required the appoint- 
 ment of a dictator. Who so proper to be trusted with su- 
 preme power, as Cincinnatus? He was accordingly chosen, 
 and again a deputation waited on him, and again they found 
 him at his plough. The struggles of Cincinnatus were not 
 so violent as before. The danger was immediate, and he 
 hastened to remove it. For sixteen days only, did he retain 
 hi* dictatorship: but, during this time, he had defeated th* 
 
140 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 enemy, taken and plundered one of their finest cities, and, 
 leaving a garrison in it, returned to Rome, to tell her citi- 
 zens that they were still free. He now resigned his office, 
 after having received the most splendid public triumph, 
 which had ever yet been awarded to a general of the repub- 
 lic. The senate, sensible of their obligations, would have 
 loaded him with wealth. They offered him as much land, 
 out of that which he had taken from the enemy, as he chose, 
 with slaves and cattle to stock it. All, however, that he 
 would receive was a crown of gold of a pound weight, 
 presented him by the army, and with this as the only trophy, 
 independent of his imperishable fame, he returned to his 
 little farm and his humble occupation. 
 
 In olden days, the Carthagenians and the Cyreneans car- 
 ried on a grievous and disastrous war, in which there was 
 so great a loss of blood and treasure, that both nations were 
 reduced very low; insomuch that an armistice, or breathing, 
 as it were, from slaughter, was proposed and accepted. The 
 cause of the war was a dispute about the limits of the respec- 
 tive territories of Carthage and Cyrene, which they now found, 
 by sad experience, could not be satisfactorily settled by 
 armed men; and so they devised the following plan, to 
 effect an amicable arrangement. They agreed that two 
 commissioners should be appointed from Carthage, and 
 the like number from Cyrene, who should set out from 
 the respective cities at the same instant, and travel so 
 as to meet certainly on the way between them; and the 
 spot, where they met, was to be a point on the dividing 
 line, and regulate its adjustment. Now, any one may 
 see, that those commissioners, who made the most speed, 
 would pass over the most ground ; and, consequently, 
 would acquire the most territory. The Carthagenians 
 were well aware of this, and selected two brothers named 
 Philaeni, who set out from Carthage &i the appointed time, 
 and advanced on their route with great celerity. The 
 Cyreneans travelled more slowly, whether from accident or 
 design, is not said, and were most grievously surprised to 
 meet the Carthagenians, at comparatively but a short dis- 
 tance from Cyrene. The Cyreneans finding themselves 
 thus outstripped, and conscious perhaps of negligence and 
 sloth, began, as men are oftentimes wont, to mend a bad 
 cause by abusive language, and concluded by charging the 
 
PATRIOTISM. 141 
 
 Philaeni with having left Carthage before the proper hour. 
 The others denied the charge stoutly, resisted in strong 
 terms the imputation cast upon their veracity, and at 
 last offered to confirm their word by any test, which the 
 Cyreneans would prescribe. The Cyreneans, then, most 
 ungenerously, proposed a test, which, they thought, per- 
 sonal considerations, independent entirely of the truth or 
 falsity of their declarations, would induce the brothers to 
 decline, and so the Cyreneans would regain their lost terri- 
 tory. They proposed that the Carthagenian commissioners 
 should either retire from the spot, or suffer themselves to 
 be buried alive upon it. To their infinite surprise, the 
 brothers immediately consulted, and accepted the alterna- 
 tive of death. They were accordingly interred by the 
 Cyreneans ; and in thus sacrificing themselves, gained to Car- 
 thage a fair and goodly territory, and to themselves a lasting 
 and honourable fame. Their fellow citizens, to do them 
 honour, as far as in them lay to confer on them more 
 honour than their conduct had already won, erected two 
 magnificent altars on the spot, ranked the Philasni with 
 their demigods, and transmitted to posterity the story of then- 
 patriotism and truth. 
 
 When Boleslas, duke of Poland, besieged Belgar in 1107, 
 he sent to the inhabitants two heralds, the one bearing a 
 white, and the other a red shield, desiring them to select 
 one of the two, as they preferred peace or war. "We ac- 
 cept them both," was the patriotic reply. "Inform Boles- 
 las, that we will keep the one, as an emblem of the peace 
 that we desire, and the last, as a sign of the blood that we 
 will shed to obtain it." 
 
 In 1147, Alphonso of Portugal, assembled the states oi 
 the kingdom, to obtain their solemn ratification of the title 
 of king, which had been conferred upon him, eight years 
 before, on the field of battle of Ourica. At this meet- 
 ing, was made his memorable declaration in favour of the 
 freedom of his subjects, which is the more remarkable, when 
 we consider the spirit of the times in which he lived. "Do 
 you wish," said Laurent Viegas, the minister of Alphonso, to 
 the assembled states, " that Alphonso should be tributary to 
 Castile, and attend as a vassal, the assemblies convoked by 
 its king." No," replied the representatives, rising with 
 13 
 
142 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 their drawn swords, "Our wish is, that our king shall be 
 free and independent." " Then," said Alphonso, "hear 
 me while I swear, that as I have done every thing to make 
 you free, I will never undertake aught that may endanger 
 your freedom. May he who would do so, instantly expire. 
 If he is of my blood and lineage, may he lose all title to 
 the throne." The Portuguese hailed the declaration of 
 Alphonso, with loud and joyous cries, and the title of king 
 was ever after given to the sovereigns of Portugal. 
 
 For all connexions else — 
 
 All private duties — are subordinate 
 
 To what we owe the public. Partial ties 
 
 Of son, and father, husband, friend or brother, 
 
 Owe their enjoyments to the public safety, 
 
 And without that were vain. — Whitehead. 
 
 It was on a fair and pleasant day, in the year 1307, that 
 the usual crowd of Swiss collected in the market place of 
 Altorf ; and although they groaned under the weight of Aus- 
 trian despotism, and felt the chains, which had hitherto been 
 too heavy to be thrown off, yet they exchanged their greet- 
 ings and transacted their business, without any reference to 
 their political situation. Occasionally, however, a glance 
 of contempt and hatred might be seen on their countenan- 
 ces, as an Austrian soldier loitered along; and once, the im- 
 patient anger of a young burgher required the cooler judg- 
 ment of elder men to restrain it, as the passage of a guard 
 reminded him of his servitude. Generally, the citizens pre- 
 served a calm and studied silence, which, to one who was 
 acquainted with the condition of the country, spoke a lan- 
 guage of determined discontent, more decidedly than excit- 
 ed tones or angry gestures. It seemed to say, "We know 
 that we are slaves ; but we know it, only to become free." 
 The crowd of the citizens and the general excitement, had 
 greatly increased, when several of the soldiery, with an offi- 
 cer at their head, appeared in the square. The men carried 
 a long pole, which they proceeded to plant in the ground, 
 and when it was fixed, their superior placed a cap and 
 plume upon it, which most of the persons around recognized 
 to belong ^o the governor of the province, Herman Gesler, 
 Why it was placed there, they could not at first divine; but 
 they were not permitted to remain long in ignorance. "It 
 
PATRIOTISM. 143 
 
 ts the cap of Gesler," said the Austrian officer, "and all 
 who pass it must bow, in token of respect to it. Whoever 
 refuses shall be punished." The astonished Swiss heard 
 the proclamation, and for a moment, a feeling of indigna- 
 tion was general among them: but it passed away, and 
 nearly all who were present approached the pole, and made 
 the required salutation to the plumed cap. While this wai 
 going forward, a man, dressed in the habit of a peasant, but 
 of a tall and commanding figure, came into the market 
 place, and observing the conduct of the people, inquired its 
 cause, and asked whose cap was that to which all bowed with 
 such humility. " It is the cap of Gesler," was the reply, 
 "and you must salute it with the others." "Not I," an- 
 swered Tell, for it was the deliverer of Switzerland who 
 now appeared upon the scene, "Not I. Long enough have 
 we borne the tyranny of Gesler; but this new act requires us 
 to stoop too low. Here is my cap, and plain though it may 
 be, it moves not from my head, in respect to that velvet bon- 
 net. Shame on you, citizens of Altorf!" Those who heard 
 the loud tones of the Switzer, trembled for his safety, and 
 advised him at once to flee. He disdained, however, to do 
 so, and in a few minutes was seized by the soldiers and 
 taken before the governor. Far from denying his conduct, 
 Tell repeated it to Gesler, whose savage cruelty fixed upon 
 a mode of punishment, more severe than any torture, which 
 human ingenuity could have inflicted. " They tell me," 
 said the tyrant, "that you excel in the use of your bow, and 
 that, among the hills, there are none who can cope with you 
 in skill. Your life shall depend upon the truth of these re- 
 ports. I will, myself, be a witness of the steadiness of your 
 hand, and the keenness of your eye. You have a son. A 
 pippin shall be placed upon his head, and you shall shoot 
 at it. If you hit it, and leave the child unhurt, you shall be 
 free." Words cannot describe the anguish of the father, 
 or the struggle which took place in his bosom, before he 
 could resolve to accept of the offer of the tyrant. A confi- 
 dence in his own skill, however — -an instinctive yearning after 
 life, stronger now that its span seemed so contracted-^-a wish 
 too to aid in the delivery of his country, at last decided him, 
 and he consented to shoot at the pippin. The market 
 place, where he had incurred his punishment, was made the 
 scene of it; the boy was brought forth, and a cross-bow and 
 a quiver of bolts or arrows were presented to Tell. He turn-? 
 ed the arrows again and again, straitened them, cast them 
 
144 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 aside, asked for more, and at last suited himself with one, 
 which he thought would fly unerringly as he aimed it. The 
 boy was placed on his knees, at the full distance of a cross- 
 bow shot, and the barbarous Gesler had placed upon his 
 head the smallest of the apples, which had been presented 
 him to choose from. There was a death-like pause in the 
 concourse of people, who had collected to witness the shot; 
 not a breath was heard, though there was many a silent 
 prayer for the father's success. The cross-bow twanged, 
 the arrow sped viewless to its mark, and a deafening shout 
 announced that the pippin was cleft in twain. " You have 
 earned your life," said Gesler, "you are free." As Tell 
 turned to depart, an arrow was seen to fall from his cloak, 
 and when asked for what it was intended, he fearlessly 
 replied, " For thy bosom, tyrant. Had I slain my son, that 
 moment should have been the last of thy existence. This 
 arrow should have destroyed thee." Gesler now command- 
 ed that Tell should be seized, and confined in prison. In 
 the mean time, the conspiracy, which had been formed 
 against the Austrian government, and of which Tell had 
 been the head, progressed rapidly towards development; 
 and fearing that his prisoner would be rescued by his coun- 
 trymen, Gesler had him put on board a boat on the lake of 
 Lucerne, and started with him for a distant and safer place of 
 confinement. On their way a violent storm arose ; the sky 
 which had long been threatening, became dark with huge 
 masses of clouds; the lightning flashed on every side; and 
 the rising wind threatened to whelm the small vessel, in the 
 huge waves which it created. In this situation, one of the 
 boatmen recollected, that Tell was as celebrated for his 
 skill on the water, as for his aim as a marksman, and he in- 
 formed Gesler, that no one but the prisoner could save him 
 from destruction. The governor now commanded, that Tell 
 should be freed from his irons, and the helm entrusted to 
 his charge. With great skill he directed the little bark 
 in safety through the storm, and steered for a headland at 
 some distance. Too much dependant on him for his pre- 
 servation, Gesler did not dare to question the motive, which 
 induced Tell to deviate from the usual course; but it was 
 soon apparent. When the boat neared the shore, Tell 
 brought it broadside to, and leaving the helm, with one 
 active bound, gained a projecting rock, and made his escape 
 to his friends. Of these, he at once became the soul, and 
 urged forward the conspiracy, until every free-born Swiss 
 
PATRIOTISM. 145 
 
 was a party to it He subsequently slew Gesler at a place 
 called Kusnacht; and the Swiss, rallying round their hero, 
 soon accomplished the delivery of their country. Switzer- 
 land was freed from the yoke of Austrian bondage, and until 
 its temporary subjugation by Bonaparte, remained as free as 
 when Tell restored it to its liberty. 
 
 Among the traditions relating to this extraordinary man, 
 the following gives an account of the manner in which his 
 son came into the power of Gesler. The governor, it is 
 said, was hunting in the mountains, and being separated 
 from his companions, lost his way. In this situation, he 
 was found by Tell's son, who became his guide to Altorf, 
 and in whose conversation, as they walked together, he dis- 
 covered bold ideas of liberty, that induced him to detain 
 him, in hopes of thus discovering the father who had instil- 
 led them. His purpose was accomplished, when Tell was 
 imprisoned; and it was intended, that both should be pun- 
 ished in the manner above related. 
 
 The name of Tell has now become synonymous with 
 patriotism, and enduring as human language. The peasant 
 of the Alps occupies an equal station in history with Wal- 
 lace and Washington, Brutus and Cincinnatus. 
 
 A palace and a statue, freedom from imposts and excises, 
 and the proud title of father and deliverer of his country, 
 were voted to Andrew Doria by the senate of Genoa. And 
 well did he deserve the gratitude of his countrymen. Doria 
 was in the employment of Francis I. with a large fleet 
 under his command, when he discovered, that the French 
 monarch had designs upon the freedom of Genoa, and was 
 erecting extensive fortifications at Savona, for the purpose 
 of overawing the Genoese. Jealous of the liberty of his 
 country, Doria addressed the following letter to Francis. 
 "Great piince, he who makes use of the power, Heaven 
 has put into his hands, to reverse the common order of 
 human affairs, employs it to a very bad purpose. The city 
 of Genoa has always been the capital of Liguria; and pos- 
 terity will not behold without astonishment, that your ma- 
 jesty has deprived it of that advantage, without any reason. 
 The Genoese perceive how your projects are likely to affect 
 their interests. They entreat you to give them up, and not 
 to suffer the general good to be sacrificed to the interests 
 ©f a few of your courtiers, I take the liberty to join my 
 13* 
 
146 PRACTICAL READING LESSO&& 
 
 entreaties to those of my countrymen ; and to request this 
 of you, as the reward of the services I have been able to 
 render France. If circumstances lay your majesty under 
 the necessity of wanting money, I will, in addition to the 
 appointments* which are due to me from your majesty, pre- 
 sent you with four score thousand gold crowns." 
 
 Francis returned no reply to the letter of Doria, but con- 
 tinued to push the fortifications at Savona, with all imagi- 
 nable speed. Then it was that Doria told the governor of 
 the place, Trivulci, that the republic of Genoa would sub- 
 mit to any thing sooner than see Savona torn from their do- 
 minions, adding; "With respect to myself, I shall sacrifice 
 the friendship of the king of France, to the interests of my 
 country: pray tell this to your sovereign, as early as you 
 can, and assure him, that it is not a desire of gain, which 
 makes me act thus. 'Tis an honest indignation at observ- 
 ing, that the prayers I made to him, in favour of my injured 
 country, which he has taken pains to oppress, do not meet 
 with that attention, to which they are entitled." Conduct 
 like this, was certainly not calculated to conciliate Francis; 
 and Doria was obliged to fly with his vessels from the port 
 of Genoa,- to avoid being confined in prison. Doria had 
 subdued Corsica for the republic of Genoa. His prowess 
 was acknowledged, upon land as well as on the sea. The 
 revolutions of Italy had thrown him into the employment 
 of Francis, until the battle of Pavia, after which he was the 
 admiral of pope Clement VII. It was on his return to the 
 service of Francis, after the sacking of Rome by Bourbon, 
 and his appointment as admiral of the Levant, that the at- 
 tempt upon his liberty abovementioned was made. Ingra- 
 titude to himself was joined to intended injuries to his 
 country, and Doria, leaving the service of the French mon- 
 arch, united his arms to those of the emperor Charles, 
 His new ally received him with open arms; and his first ex- 
 ploit was to rescue Genoa from the hands of the French* 
 With a small force, of only thirteen gallies and five hundred 
 men, the Admiral appeared before that city. The French 
 gallies retired at his approach; and attacking one of the 
 gates, in the night time, he carried it by surprise, and found 
 himself at once master of the city. The governor of 
 Francis retired into the citadel, but shortly after capitu- 
 lated. Genoa was now free. The republic was restored, 
 but remained for a while in such a condition, that it would 
 have been easy for the successful admiral to have become 
 
PATRIOTISM. 14? 
 
 its despotic sovereign. He patriotically resisted, however, 
 the temptation, and became entitled to the proud appella* 
 tion of the father and deliverer of his country. He summon- 
 ed the citizens to assemble before his palace, and from a 
 lofty balcony he informed them of his intentions. They 
 listened with almost incredulous amazement, when he told 
 them, that they were the arbiters of their own destinies, 
 free to form such a government as they chose to live under, 
 and firmly and steadily rejected the sovereign power, which 
 many in the assembly would have forced him to accept. 
 "His reward," he said, "was to see them in possession of 
 their freedom. He was more pleased with the name of 
 citizen than of sovereign, and neither claimed, nor would 
 accept, pre-eminence or power above his equals." Twelve 
 persons were selected to remodel the constitution of the 
 republic; and when it was adopted, the people by acclama- 
 tion, elected Doria perpetual Doge. Again he refused to 
 accept of power, and told those, who waited on him with 
 the news, that he preferred being thought worthy of supreme 
 power, than to possess it. Having driven the enemies of 
 the republic from its territories, and, by his own noble exam- 
 ple, composed the jealous factions existing among his fellow 
 citizens, he again resumed his career of arms, and died at 
 last, poor in point of fortune, but rich in that imperishable 
 fame, which his actions had so meritoriously earned. 
 
 His nature is too noble for the world : 
 He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, 
 Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: 
 What his breast forges that his tongue must vent; 
 And, being angry, does forget that ever 
 He heard the name of death. Shakspeare. 
 
 Among others, who had heard of the virtues of Pho- 
 cion, the Athenian, was Philip of Macedon, who, when he 
 had occasion to send deputies to Athens, directed them 
 to offer Phocion a large sum of money. "And why is 
 not this given also to every other citizen;" asked the Athe- 
 nian. "Because Philip," replied the ambassadors, "has 
 heard of your renown, and is desirous of enabling your 
 children to support the credit, which your conduct has ob- 
 tained for them." "Vain, then, is the gift of the king of 
 Macedon," was the answer of Phocion. "If my children 
 
143 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS* 
 
 resemble me, they will be able to support themselves con- 
 tentedly upon the small lot of ground, which has belonged 
 to me, while acquiring the fame you speak of." Alexander, 
 the son of Philip, sent him afterwards one hundred talents, 
 because, as it was told him by the deputy who bore it, he 
 considered him a most just and virtuous man. " Let Alex- 
 ander, then,", answered Phocion, "take back his present, 
 and suffer me to retain that character, by deserving it, 
 
 Pedaretus, a Spartan citizen, had been a candidate for an 
 office of trust and honour in the city, and had actively ex- 
 erted himself to procure his election. The day at last 
 arrived, and of the three hundred offices which were to be 
 filled, not one fell to the lot of Pedaretus. When the result 
 was known, some of his friends began to condole with him 
 upon, the mortification, which they believed he must feel at 
 his exclusion. "Rejoice, rather, as I do," replied Pedare- 
 tus, " that there are three hundred citizens in Sparta of 
 more merit than myself." 
 
 It was on a bright and glorious day, under the clear sky 
 of Switzerland, that small companies of men were seen 
 hastening towards the heights of Mongarten. France was 
 preparing to destroy the liberties of the land. Her armies 
 were already on the frontier; and the brave and true were, 
 firmly, but doubtfully, awaiting the issue of the approach- 
 ing contest. The fear of the result, and not the fear of 
 death, occasioned the cloud, which might have been observ- 
 ed on the brows of those, who moved towards Mongarten. 
 Group after group assembled on the broad esplanade, which 
 had been selected for the rendezvous, until a small army of 
 patriots was formed, whose breasts were intended as the 
 shields or the ramparts of the republic. For some time 
 they waited, as if expecting the appearance of the leader, 
 who was to direct them. "There. he comes, there he 
 comes," at last was heard from an hundred voices; and a 
 man in the pride of life, with the resigned and thoughtful 
 look of one, who was ready alike to do or die, ascended 
 the hill, and advanced to the centre of the soldiers of Swit- 
 zerland. Mongarten had been the scene of the exploits of 
 former days, and the recollection of their glory gave a stem 
 enthusiasm to the feelings of those, who now assembled 
 there. The man who had just joined them, was one well 
 
PATRIOTISM. 149 
 
 able to avail himself of the emotions of the moment. He 
 had been in many a bloody fray for his country, and, as the 
 bravest of her sons, was now regarded with a species of 
 devotion by his fellow citizens. While they had waited 
 his arrival, the clear sky had become obscured with clouds, 
 and the previous bright face of nature had assumed a gloom, 
 well suited to the prospects of the land. It was Aloys 
 Reding who came as the leader of the Swiss, and profound 
 was the attention, which waited on his words, as he thus 
 addressed his little army. "Comrades and fellow citizens/ 1 
 he said, "the decisive moment is arrived. Surrounded by 
 enemies, and deserted by our friends, it only remains to 
 know, if we will courageously imitate the example, formerly 
 set by our ancestors, among these awful mountains; indeed, 
 upon the very spot, we now occupy. An almost instant 
 death awaits us. If any one fears, let him retire; we will 
 not reproach him ; but let us not impose upon each other at 
 this solemn hour. I would rather have a hundred men, firm 
 and steadfast to their duty, than a large army, which, by 
 flight, might occasion confusion ; or, by a precipitate retreat, 
 immolate the brave men, who would still defend themselves. 
 As to myself, I promise not to abandon you, even in the 
 greatest danger. Death, and no retreat. If you partici- 
 pate in my resolution, let two men come out of your ranks, 
 and swear to me, in your name, that you will be faithful to 
 your promises." When Reding had finished his address, 
 the soldiers turned rapidly from one to another, with glances 
 that left no doubt of their intentions. The reverential 
 silence, which, until then, had been preserved, was broker* 
 by the universal shout, " We will never abandon you ;" and 
 two men, moving from each rank, gave their hands to Red- 
 ing, and pledged their own faith and that of their comrades, 
 to the support of the liberties of their country. The alli- 
 ance between the general and his soldiers, thus singularly 
 formed, was preserved inviolate; and although it was de- 
 creed that Switzerland should be conquered, not one of 
 those, who witnessed the solemn vow upon Mongarten, 
 ever yielded in heart or person to the French. The spirit of 
 Aloys Reding was in the bosom of each of them, and al- 
 though their country was enslaved, they still remained free. 
 
 The proper means of increasing the love we bear our 
 native country, is to reside some time in a foreign one. 
 
 Shenstonq, 
 
150 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Alas, poor country; 
 Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 
 Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing, 
 But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; 
 Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend the air. 
 Are made, not mark'd: where violent sorrow seems 
 A modern ecstacy : the dead man's knell 
 Is there scarce ask'd, for whom; and good men's lives 
 Expire before the flowers in their caps; 
 Dying, or ere they sicken. Skakspeare^ 
 
 Two years had elapsed since Edward III. of England, 
 commenced the siege of Calais; and he was still before 
 its walls. Famine had so long pressed the inhabitants, 
 that the English monarch daily expected the capitula- 
 tion of the town, and the English soldiers began to antici- 
 pate their early return to England. Breach after breach, 
 which they had effected, during the day, in the walls of the 
 place, the next morning saw filled by the indefatigable 
 labour of the citizens. They had already consumed the 
 food, which was usually employed to sustain life, and 
 rather than yield to the enemy, had recourse to the weeds 
 of the gardens, the worms which were found beneath heaps 
 of decayed rubbish, and the pieces of leather, which, when 
 boiled, afforded them a wretched sustenance. All this was 
 known to Edward, and he therefore confidently expected 
 the speedy termination of the siege. One hope still remain- 
 ed to the garrison; and John de Vienne, the governor, 
 determined to attack the English camp. He sallied out, 
 therefore, at the head of his troops, and charged the unsus- 
 pecting English. The fight was long and bloody, but at 
 last ended by the success of Edward. John de Vienne was 
 taken prisoner upon his well-fought field, and the survivors 
 of the French retreated once more to their wretched city. 
 
 The chief command now devolved upon Eustace Su 
 Pierre, the mayor of Calais, a man of low origin, but of 
 most exalted virtue. He found that Calais was a heap of 
 ruins, and her citizens a crowd of starving creatures, who 
 possessed not the strength to wield arms any longer, in de- 
 fending the city. He therefore determined to capitulate ; 
 and accordingly sent a messenger to Edward with the terms, 
 upon which he offered to surrender his eharge. Edward, 
 irritated at the loner and obstinate resistance which he had met 
 
PATRIOTISM. 151 
 
 ^ith, and not appreciating, at the moment, the patriotism 
 which caused it, agreed to pardon the bulk of the common 
 citizens, provided six of the bravest and the best should be 
 delivered up to him, with halters about their necks, to suffer 
 the punishment, which he intended to inflict, in revenge 
 for the opposition which he had met with. Sir Walter 
 Mauny, the pride of England's chivalry, was the reluctant 
 bearer of Edward's final determination. He found the rem- 
 nant of the inhabitants, who had survived famine and the 
 sword, collected in the principal square, to hear the reply of 
 the English monarch. When it was told, a solemn silence 
 pervaded every part of the assembly. The answer of Ed- 
 ward sounded as the death knell of the whole population; 
 for who, in Calais, would accept life on the terms offered; 
 or who could be expected to become the sacrifice ? Eustace 
 St. Pierre now ascended a little eminence, and thus ad- 
 dressed the assembly: "My friends and fellow citizens, 
 you see the condition to which we are reduced; we must 
 either submit to the terms of our cruel and ensnaring con- 
 queror, or yield up our infants, our wives and daughters, to 
 the ferocity of the soldiery. We well know what the tyrant 
 means by his specious offers of mercy. It does not satiate 
 his vengeance, to make us merely miserable ; he would 
 make us criminal; he would make us contemptible; he will 
 grant us life on no condition save that of being unworthy 
 of it. Look about you my friends, and fix your eyes on 
 the persons, whom you wish to deliver up, as the victims of 
 your own safety.. Which of these would you appoint to the 
 rack, the axe, or the halter? Is there any here, who has 
 not watched for you, who has not fought for you, who has 
 not bled for you ? Who, through the length of this invete- 
 rate seige, has not suffered fatigues and miseries, a thou- 
 sand times worse than death, that you and yours might sur- 
 vive to days of peace and prosperity? Is it your preservers, 
 then, whom you would destine to destruction? You will 
 not, you cannot do it. Justice, honour, humanity, make 
 such a treason impossible. Where then is our resource? 
 Is there any expedient left, whereby we may avoid guilt and 
 infamy on one hand, or the desolation and horrors of a 
 sacked city on the other? There is, my friends; there is 
 one expedient left; a gracious, an excellent, a god-like ex- 
 
 Eedient! Is there any here to whom virtue is dearer than 
 fe? Let him offer himself an oblation for the safety of his 
 people : he shall not fail of a blessed approbation from that 
 
152 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 power, who offered up his only son for the salvation of 
 mankind." 
 
 The citizens of Calais gazed on each other in silence, at 
 the proposition of St, Pierre. In the whole multitude there 
 was no one, who did not approve the words of. the govern- 
 or; but there was not one, however, who possessed the re- 
 solution to snatch at once the crown of patiiotic martyr- 
 dom, which offered itself. St. Pierre perceived their irreso- 
 lution, and continued thus: "It had been base in me, my 
 fellow citizens, to promote any matter of danger to others, 
 which I myself had not been willing to undergo in my own 
 person. But I held it ungenerous to deprive any man of 
 that preference and estimation, which might attend a first 
 offer, on so signal an occasion; for I doubt not, there are 
 many here as ready, nay more zealous for this martyrdom, 
 than I can be, however modesty and the fear of imputed 
 ostentation, may withhold them from being foremost in ex- 
 hibiting their merits. Indeed, the station, to which the cap- 
 tivity of count Vienne has unhappily raised me, imparts a 
 right to be the first in giving my life for your sakes. I give 
 it freely, I give it cheerfully. Who comes next? A youth, 
 not yet come to maturity, now stepped forth from the crowd, 
 and in reply to the demand of St. Pierre, answered: "My 
 father, your son will follow you." " Ah, my child," cried St. 
 Pierre, "I am then twice sacrificed. Thy years are few, 
 but full, my son; the victim of virtue has reached the utmost 
 purpose and goal of mortality. Who next, my friends? 
 This is the hour of heroes." " Your kinsman," cried John 
 de Aire, "Your kinsman," cried James Wissant, "Your 
 kinsman," exclaimed the brother of the last who had offered 
 himself. The sixth victim was claimed by hundreds, and 
 the generous contest finally settled by ballot. The stern 
 features of the English knight relaxed, as he beheld the scene 
 before him, and bursting into tears, he exclaimed, "Ah! 
 why was not I a citizen of Calais?" 
 
 The gates of the city were now opened, and the keys 
 delivered to Sir Walter Mauny, who, with the six patriots, 
 proceeded to the camp of Edward. As the little band 
 moved through the tents, the soldiers came forth to see 
 them; and all regarded them with feelings, nearly approach- 
 ing to reverence; more especially, when it was known, that 
 these martyrs to the safety of their fellow citizens, were 
 self-devoted to destruction. The English monarch receiv- 
 ed them with stern and angry feelings, and would have 
 
PATRIOTISM. 153 
 
 ordered them to execution, but for the intercession of his 
 queen. To her entreaties he finally yielded their pardon, 
 and they were liberated and restored to their families. It 
 was on this occasion, that St. Pierre remarked, in allusion 
 to the conduct of the queen of England, "Edward may 
 eonquer kingdoms, but it is Phillippa alone who can con- 
 quer hearts." 
 
 Christian II. of Denmark, after a tedious warfare, had 
 at last reduced Sweden under his dominion. He had 
 deprived her of her nobles, by an indiscriminate massa- 
 cre, and relied upon the inefficiency of the inhabitants, 
 without skilful leaders, to secure him in the undisturbed 
 possession of despotic power. His court at Copenhagen 
 was gay and splendid; and among others, who heard the 
 sounds of pleasure, speaking in tones' of discord to his 
 heart, was Gustavus, the son of Eric, duke of Gripsholm, in 
 Sweden. In the hours of his confinement he brooded over 
 the conduct of Christian, and when, at last, after many 
 years captivity, he made his escape from Copenhagen, he 
 flew at once to the* fastnesses of his native land, arid there 
 waited for the propitious moment, when he might strike 
 with certainty in the cause of independence. Great bold- 
 ness of character, a capacious understanding, and a devo- 
 tion to the occupation of arms, made Gustavus an admira- 
 ble leader in times of difficulty and danger. In the moun- 
 tains of Dalecarlia, the young Swede gained friend after 
 friend, to all of whom he imparted his intention of rousing 
 his countrymen against the power of Denmark, and in each 
 of whom he found an attentive and devoted listener. He 
 expatiated on the murder of their nobles, the death of his 
 own father to gratify the savage policy of Christian ; he 
 pointed to the marks of bondage, which were seen on 
 every side, until he saw that they were ready for any 
 achievement, however perilous; and then, collecting them 
 around him, he raised the flag of insurrection. Had Gus- 
 tavus failed, he would, most probably, have been handed 
 down to posterity as an unsuccessful rebel, if he had not 
 been forgotten with the generation, who remembered his 
 rashness — as it was, however, the success, which attended 
 him, has placed him high on the list of those, who claim to 
 be considered as the deliverers of their country. After he 
 descended from the mountains, the Swedes joined him in 
 considerable numbers ; he retook Wessal, and gained many 
 
154 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 important victories over the Danes. When defeated, his re- 
 treats were so masterly, that his army was never entirely de- 
 stroyed ; but he appeared when Christian least expected him, 
 at the head of a new army of patriots. Animated at last, al- 
 most to desperation, at the cruelty of Christian, who put his 
 mother and sister to death by the most cruel tortures, he 
 overran Gothland, and at last carried his victorious arms to 
 the very gates of Stockholm. Here the states of the king- 
 dom were convened, and, after considerable discussion, 
 offered the crown of the kingdom to Gustavus, who had so 
 nobly won it. He accepted it, and had sufficient influence 
 to have the succession settled upon his heirs male. Chris- 
 tian II, being expelled from his throne, all fear of invasion 
 from that quarter ceased; and the Swedish king, secure in 
 the arts of peace, devoted his time to the improvement of 
 his subjects. Commerce was established, seminaries of 
 learning were erected under his auspices, and he continued 
 the father, as well as the defender of his country, unti} his 
 death, in the 70th year of his age. 
 
 After the death of Alexander III. of Scotland, the first 
 Edward, king of England, partly by arms, and partly by 
 availing himself of the dissensions among the nobles, which 
 followed the death of Alexander, made himself master 
 of Scotland. It was no part of Edward's policy, to let 
 the Scots live as they had done, under their own monarch, 
 almost entirely exempt from taxation; but, in order to 
 make his new acquisition profitable, he laid, and attempt- 
 ed to levy, onerous taxes upon Scotland, for the support 
 of the royalty of England. Edward could not possibly 
 have had a more active agent in forwarding his views, than 
 Hugh Cressingham, whom he appointed high treasurer of 
 Scotland, and who, under various pretexts, extorted im- 
 mense sums of money from the Scots, over and above the 
 taxes laid by Edward. After bearing their grievances for 
 some time in silence, the Scots became wound up to the 
 highest pitch of exasperation, and wanted nothing but 
 a leader, in whose skill they could confide, to rise up in a 
 body, and expel the English from the land. Such a leader 
 they found in the person of sir William Wallace, whose 
 name has since become almost a watch word, and whose 
 history is known in almost every land, as affording the 
 highest examples of courage and patriotism. Many are 
 
PATRIOTISM. 155 
 
 the stories which are current, of the early exploits of Wal- 
 lace; many of them doubtless true, and others exaggerated, 
 by the long line of tradition, on which they depend for 
 their authenticity. Amongst others, it is said, that when a 
 boy almost, he was one day fishing in the river Irvine, near 
 Ayr, when some English soldiers, who were passing at the 
 time, stopped to examine his basket of trout, and insisted 
 upon having the contents. Wallace was very willing, out 
 of kindness, to give them half of the fish, but would not 
 consent to their taking the whole. The soldiers persisted, 
 and one of them struck the young Scot. Wallace, with the 
 butt of his fishing rod, knocked the man down, snatched 
 his sword from him, and being, even then, of an active and 
 powerful person, slew several of the English, and drove the 
 rest of them away. On account of this he was hunted, 
 with the intent to put him to death ; but, by good fortune, he 
 escaped, and when the affair was forgotten, appeared in 
 another part of the country. One day, and this was the 
 immediate cause of his opposition to England, when his 
 breast was agitated, and his spirit excited by the wrongs, 
 which he saw daily heaped upon his countrymen, Wallace 
 was walking in the market place of Lanark, gaily dressed, 
 after the fashion of the times. His strong and manly figure 
 was well set off, by his habit of green and gold, and a hand- 
 some dagger was stuck under his belt. An English soldier 
 jeered him upon his looks, with, "Sir Scot, methinks that 
 dress were over fine for thy loon's figure, and that dagger 
 ill suits the neighbourhood of a hand, which is afraid to use 
 it." "Thou mayst prove the contrary," replied Wallace, 
 still however, pursuing his road, in the hope of avoiding a 
 fray. But the soldier was bent upon insulting him ; in doing 
 which he was joined by some of his fellows: some sturdy 
 Scots took part with their countryman; a fight ensued, in 
 which several of the soldiers were killed, and Wallace re- 
 mained temporarily master of the market place. The whole 
 garrison was now in arms, and Wallace was forced to fly to 
 his own house. The soldiers followed him thither, and 
 while they were making an assault in front, he escaped by 
 a back door, and took refuge in the Cartland Craggs, leaving 
 behind his wife, a young, amiable and beautiful woman, 
 whose sex and innocence would, he thought, protect her 
 from the insolence even of the English soldiery. But in 
 this he was most grievously mistaken, Hesselrigg, the 
 governor of Lanark, was at the head of the pursuers, and 
 
156 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 when he entered the house, and found that his intended vic- 
 tim had escaped, he plunged his sword into the bosom of 
 his wife. This sad intelligence was brought to Wallace in 
 his retreat; and from that moment he devoted himself to the 
 task of freeing his country, and revenging upon the English 
 the wrongs, which it had suffered at their hands. The 
 first successful exploit of Wallace, after this time, tradition 
 informs us, took place as follows. The English governor 
 ©f Ayr invited the Scottish gentry of the surrounding 
 country to meet him at a convivial entertainment, at some 
 large buildings, called the barns of Ayr. His invitation 
 was a pretext for the deepest treachery. The interior of 
 the buildings was filled with his soldiers, who had long 
 ropes with nooses to the ends, thrown over the beams; and 
 as the Scottish gentlemen entered, two at a time, the nooses 
 were placed round their necks, and they were hung or 
 strangled on the spot. Afterwards, the governor and his 
 men sat down to the feast, which was laid in the buildings, 
 and drank and jested on the scene of murder. Wallace 
 learned the proceeding from one who had escaped ; he col- 
 lected his friends about him, ascertained the houses in which 
 the English were carousing, fastened the doors, so that 
 they could not be opened, and then set fire to the whole. 
 The revenge thus taken,, was perhaps, only in accordance 
 with the temper of the times ; but it was certainly too much 
 like the crime which it was intended to punish. 
 
 Wallace's party now began to increase rapidly, until he 
 numbered in it some of the most valiant men in all Scot- 
 land, as well as some of the highest rank. These, how- 
 ever, were but fair-weather friends. On the approach of 
 the earl of Surrey, with a well-appointed army, to crush, if 
 possible, the Scottish rebellion, they hastened to give in 
 their adhesion to England ; and, at Irvine, entered into a 
 treaty, by which life was preserved at the expense of fame 
 fend honour. Wallace, undismayed by their desertion, still 
 lay with his gallant army of faithful friends and true patriots, 
 encamped on the north side of the river Forth, at Stirling. 
 On the opposite bank was the army of England, under 
 command of earl Warren. A long and narrow bridge di- 
 vided them, over which it was necessary to pass, before 
 either could attack the other. The English came arrayed 
 in all the pomp and splendour of war; the knights and their 
 retainers vied with each other, in the magnificence of the 
 equipments ; and, as they remarked the rude appearance of 
 
PATRIOTISM. 157 
 
 the Scottish host, they did not imagine that more than a 
 shadow of resistance would be attempted. So too, thought 
 earl Warren, who sent two messengers to Wallace, requir- 
 ing him to surrender, and promising pardon, if he would do 
 so. "Go back to the earl Warren," said the champion 
 of Scotland to the messengers, "and tell him, that we value 
 not the pardon of the king of England. We are not here 
 for the purpose of treating of peace, but of abiding battle, 
 and restoring freedom to our country. Let the English 
 come on, — we defy them to their very beards." 
 
 Perhaps there could not have been a more politic answer 
 given than this ; because it provoked the whole English 
 army to call for, and even to insist upon, an immediate 
 attack, contrary to the opinion of earl Warren, who, seeing 
 that he would have to cross the bridge, before he could 
 reach the Scots, was afraid of being taken at a disadvantage, 
 before he could get his army marshalled in good order upon 
 the opposite plain. Cressingham, who was second in com- 
 mand, was particularly anxious for battle, his hatred to the 
 Scots overcoming all prudential considerations, and he suc- 
 ceeded in persuading earl Warren to give the signal to 
 march forward. As this last had feared, so it came to pass. 
 When the English van, led by Cressingham, had crossed 
 the bridge, the Scots, headed by Wallace, charged them with 
 great impetuosity, defeated them completely, cut the great- 
 est portion to pieces, and drove the remainder into the river 
 Forth. Those who remained upon the other side, seeing 
 the fate of Cressingham's troops, were seized with a panic, 
 set fire to the bridge, so that the Scots could not pursue 
 them, and made the best of their way to their own country. 
 
 After this great battle, Wallace was in no want of troops 
 or friends. Even those, who had so lately made the treaty 
 of Irvine, returned to him; and in all parts of the country, 
 the people rose against the English, took from them the 
 castles which they held, and made the garrisons prisoners. 
 In the mean while, the army of Wallace was not idle, but 
 pursued the remains of earl Warren's army to the border, 
 and penetrated for a considerable distance into England,, 
 where they remained three weeks, and returned, loaded 
 with plunder, to Scotland. 
 
 Scotland was now free, and Wallace was invested with 
 the government, with the title of "Sir William Wallace, pro- 
 tector or governor of the Scottish nation." But Wallace 
 was not of noble parentage; and the lords and barons of 
 14* 
 
158 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 the land, when they were no longer held together by the 
 immediate presence of the enemy, grew jealous of his 
 elevation, and refused to ♦give that active support to ,his 
 measures, which was necessary to their efficiency. Edward 
 of England, during this time, was not idle. He had been 
 in Flanders, when the army of earl Warren was defeated; 
 and, enraged to find the Scots, who he thought, were so 
 entirely subdued, in successful rebellion against him, he 
 determined to march against them in person. He did so; 
 and the armies of England and Scotland met at Falkirk, to 
 contest the sovereignty of the latter kingdom. The fight 
 was bloody and well contested, and for some time doubtful ; 
 but the defection of some of the Scottish leaders, who with- 
 drew their troops, when they were most wanted, turned the 
 scale against the Scots; and, at the close of day, Edward 
 found himself victorious, and Scotland saw herself again 
 enslaved. The strength of the Scots was now completely 
 broken, and Edward's garrisons were again dispersed over 
 the land. But Wallace was still alive, and still free, and 
 so long as he remained so, Edward scarcely felt secure 
 upon his throne. For seven years he continued to hold 
 out, in the mountainous districts, with a body of friends, 
 who, like himself, yet continued to hope for better things. 
 At last, however, he was made prisoner by a Scotsman, 
 named Sir John Monteith, who betrayed him to the English. 
 Wallace was carried to London, and there tried for treason, 
 in rebelling against his king. He was taken to Westmin- 
 ster, crowned, in mockery, with a green garland, and put 
 upon his trial. When he was charged with having been a 
 traitor to Edward, he replied, "I could not be a traitor to 
 king Edward, because I never was his subject." He was 
 then accused of having killed many men, and done much 
 harm ; to which, in the same composed manner that marked 
 his conduct throughout, he answered, "That it was true, 
 he had killed very many Englishmen; because they had 
 come to oppress and subdue his native country of Scotland; 
 and far from repenting what he had done, he was only sorry 
 that he had not put to death many more of them." This 
 defence was surely all sufficient, in the matter and manner 
 in which it was pleaded; but it produced no effect upon 
 the English judges. The bystanders, indeed, who had 
 joined the loudest in the cries, which were raised against 
 Wallace at the commencement of the trial, were softened 
 in his behalf, and wept at the fate which awaited him : but 
 
PATRIOTISM. 159 
 
 the judges were inexorable, in obeying what they well 
 knew to be the wish of king Edward. Wallace was con- 
 demned to death. He was carried on a 'sledge, like a com- 
 mon felon, to the place of execution, where his head waa 
 struck off, and his body divided into four quarters, which, 
 according to the cruel custom of the time, were exposed 
 'upon pikes of iron upon London bridge, and were termed 
 the limbs of a traitor. The policy of Edward was a savage 
 one, and one which he thought would prevent future rebel- 
 lion ; but no sooner was the death of Wallace known, than 
 other chiefs took arms, to attempt and finally effect the in- 
 dependence of their "country of Scotland." 
 
 The pure republicanism of the following oath, shows, 
 that the principles of freedom were in full vigour, through 
 the darkness of the middle ages. It is the oath adminis- 
 tered to the barons of Arragon, on the election of their 
 king. "We, the freeborn inhabitants of the ancient king- 
 dom of Arragon, who are equal to you Don Philip, and 
 something more, elect you to be our king, on condition, 
 that you preserve to us our rights and privileges. If in thi3 
 you fail, we own you for our king no longer." 
 
 It was near the banks of the river Kahamas, that Ali 
 Pacha met the Suliot captain Tzavella and fifty of his com- 
 panions in arms, under pretence of negotiating a treaty with 
 them. The treacherous Ali, however, had collected a large 
 body of men, who, in the midst of the conference, fell upon 
 the unsuspecting Suliots. Tzavella, and his companions, 
 defended themselves as best they might, but in vain ; they 
 were overcome by superior numbers, and all bound, except 
 three. Two of these fought desperately, until they fell 
 covered with wounds; the other, who was remarkably swift 
 of foot, took to his heels, swam across the river Kahamas, 
 although a shower of bullets rained around him, reached 
 the opposite bank unhurt, nor did he rest himself, until with- 
 in the territory of Suli; where, assembling his countrymen, 
 he put them on their guard against the designs of Ali. 
 With Tzavella in his power, Ali thought himself invincible ; 
 he ordered his trumpets to be sounded ; his silken banners 
 waved their forked forms gaily in the wind ; the sun dashed 
 its brightest rays to and fro on the moving crescents and 
 arms of the soldiery ; the men stroked their mustachios, and 
 
160 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. v 
 
 swelling with temporary enthusiasm, swore by the pro- 
 phet a thousand vows of vengeance; and, in fact, Ali had 
 good cause to think frOm appearances, that Suli would be 
 swallowed up by his gallant and confident army, as readily 
 as he engulphed a Smyrna fig in his own capacious jaws. 
 A day's march brought Ali within the Suliot district, and 
 here he ordered Tzavella to be led into his presence, 
 and made the most liberal offers to him, if he would pro- 
 cure the submission of Suli to the tyrant of Joannina; for 
 Ali was quite Willing, despite the fine array of his army, to 
 gain his point by negotiation, instead of bloodshed. To 
 quicken the understanding of Tzavella, he told him that he 
 should be flayed alive, if his countrymen continued obsti- 
 nate. "Release me from my fetters then," said Tzavella; 
 ' c for my countrymen will never submit, while I am in your 
 power." Ali was not altogether pleased with this proposi- 
 tion ; and very naturally inquired, what guarantee he would 
 have for Tzavella' s return, if the Suliots refused to be influ- 
 enced by him. "My own son Foto," answered the cap- 
 tain, " who is a thousand times dearer to me, and more va- 
 luable to his country, than my life." Ali thought that the 
 son was a sufficient hostage for the good conduct of his 
 father; and upon condition, that he should be left behind, 
 he permitted Tzavella to depart. The Albanians and Suli- 
 ots met in equal numbers at a short distance from the army 
 of Ali; prisoners were exchanged; and Tzavella returned as 
 fast as possible to Suli. When he arrived at home, he con- 
 voked all the other captains in council, told them what had 
 passed between Ali and himself, and urged them to make a 
 vigorous defence. When reminded of the safety of his 
 boy, which depended so much upon his own conduct, the 
 feelings of the parent for a moment, struggled hard with 
 the sterner emotions of the patriot; but his decision was 
 soon made, and he wrote and despatched the following 
 letter to Ali. "Ali Pacha, I rejoice that I have deceived a 
 deceiver; I am here to defend my country against a robber. 
 My son is doomed to death ; but I will desperately avenge 
 him before I die. Some Turks like yourself will say, that 
 I am a merciless father, to sacrifice my child for my own 
 liberation. I answer, that if you had taken the mountain, 
 you would have massacred my son, with all the rest of my 
 family and my countrymen. In that case I could not have 
 avenged his death. If we are victorious, I shall have other 
 children. My wife is young. If my boy be not willing, 
 
. PATRIOTISM. 161 
 
 young as he is, to sacrifice himself for his country, he is 
 not worthy to live, or to be acknowledged as a child of mine. 
 Nor ought he to be named as a worthy son of Greece, un- 
 less he can meet death with fortitude. Advance then, thou 
 traitor, I am impatient for revenge." 
 
 Ali was not much pleased with this letter, for it was the 
 greatest insult, which could be offered to him, to outwit him 
 in any of his machinations. With unwonted lenity, how- 
 ever, he refrained from putting the boy to death, but sent 
 him to Joannina, with others of his countrymen, who were 
 also prisoners of the tyrant. When he arrived at the chief 
 city of Albania, Foto was taken into the presence of Ma- 
 homet Effendi, the prime minister of Ali, who sat in coun- 
 cil with his son, Vely. Mahomet, seeing the tender years 
 of his prisoner, and wishing to alarm him, told him that he 
 would have him roasted alive, as an expiation for his father's 
 misdeeds. "You had better not, my friend," replied the 
 boy, "for if my father conquers, and happens to catch you, 
 which is very possible, he will serve you precisely in the 
 same manner." The bold and daring answer of Foto, 
 pleased Vely, who interceded for him, and he was confined 
 in a convent on the island. In the mean while, the chances 
 of war between the Albanians and the Suliots, were many 
 and various, and Ali again proposed an armistice, and re- 
 quired that twenty-four hostages should be delivered up to 
 him. When this was done, he inhumanly told them, that 
 unless their countrymen consented to his terms, they should 
 suffer the most excruciating tortures. To this threat, he re- 
 ceived the following reply. 
 
 "Vizier Ali Pacha, we greet you. By such treacherous 
 conduct, you do nothing else but sully your own reputa- 
 tion and increase our determined resistance against you. 
 Know this, that we have already lost seventeen victims, 
 sacrificed in their country's cause. Let these other twenty- 
 four, then, be added to their number. Their memory will 
 live in the breasts of their fellow citizens; but the republic 
 will not, on their account, surrender itself. Henceforward 
 we neither desire, nor will we entertain any friendship with 
 you,* since in all transactions, and on every occasion, you 
 are a violator of good faith." 
 
 Tired of a war, which advanced him nothing, or but very 
 little, towards his object, Ali Pacha offered two thousand 
 purses for the country, which his arms could not conquer, 
 together with permission to its inhabitants to settle, free 
 
162 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 from taxation, in any part of his territory. But the Suliots 
 treated his offer with contempt. They had become ac- 
 quainted, by sad experience, with his treachery, and re- 
 solved to depend upon their own good swords for the pre- 
 servation of their liberty. Ali, finding that he could neither 
 conquer nor purchase the land, endeavoured to sow dissen- 
 tion among the captains, and his gold was active in at- 
 tempts to bribe them. Among others, he addressed himself 
 to Dimo Zerva^ promising him eight hundred purses, and 
 all the honour that he could desire, if he would betray 
 the republic. Zerva immediately assembled the captains, 
 read the letter in their presence, and returned the following 
 answer. 
 
 "I thank you, -Vizier, for the kind regard you express 
 towards me ; but I beseech you not to send the purses, for 
 I should not know how to count them ; and if I did, believe 
 me, that one single pebble belonging to my country, much 
 less that country itself, would, in my eyes, appear too great 
 a return for them. Equally vain are the honours, which' 
 you offer to bestow on me. The honours of a Suliot lie in 
 his arms; with these I hope to immortalize my name and 
 preserve my country." 
 
 Well did the Suliots merit the verses of Lord Byron, who 
 saw them in all the wild, romantic, and untameable liberty, 
 that dictated the conduct which we have attempted to 
 describe above. 
 
 " On SulVs height and Parga's shore 
 
 There live the relics of a line 
 Such as the Doric mothers bore." 
 
 Of Parga, mentioned in the above lines, we have the 
 following authentic account. It is a small town upon the 
 coast of Epirus, not far from the dominions once owned 
 by Ali Pacha, of notorious memory, as a tyrant, robber and 
 traitor. In 1814, the British government,— exercising that 
 interference, which it often considers very much to its own 
 interest to use, but which is certainly very much, in many 
 instances, extremely annoying to those, whose weakness 
 does not enable them to resist it,* — entered into a treaty, by 
 which it undertook to dispose of Parga to one of all others 
 the most dreaded and hated by the Parguinotes; no less a 
 personage than Ali himself. The Parguinotes were, as 
 may be imagined, no party to this bargain, and objected 
 
PATRIOTISM. 163 
 
 most strenuously to the change. They had preserved their 
 independence for many years, under the Venetians, as pro* 
 tectors, and they had acquired certain notions of liberty, 
 which made them view with horror, the tyranny of their 
 proposed master. To smooth the matter over to the people 
 of Parga, the British commissioners stipulated, or pretend- 
 ed to stipulate, that to each Parguinote, who did not choose 
 to remain under the government of Ali, should be paid the 
 value of the property, which would be sacrificed by his re- 
 moval. The Parguinotes were still discontented, and when 
 the commissioners arrived to take the names of those who 
 wished to remove on the arrival of the pacha, they found 
 that not a single citizen was willing to stay behind: but 
 all declared, that not only would they remove themselves, 
 but they would dig up the bones of their ancestors, that 
 they might not be polluted by the presence of the unhal- 
 lowed intruder. The English commissioners were not a 
 little surprised at the determination so firmly expressed, and 
 deterred perhaps, by so unexpected a display of spirit, took 
 no immediate steps to carry the treaty into effect. At last, 
 in 1819, Ali became very clamorous indeed, and insisted 
 upon having Parga delivered up to him ; and to enforce his 
 demand, he prepared his army for an invasion into the Par- 
 guinote territory. The English informed the Parguinotes 
 of these facts, and desired them to make immediate arrange- 
 ments for removal. The Parguinotes accordingly held a 
 general council, and returned for answer to the commission- 
 ers, that they would never be the subjects of a tyrant like 
 Ali; and that if he entered their territory before the last man 
 had left it, they would destroy their wives and children with 
 their own hands, burn the bones of their ancestors, and 
 fight against the Turks, until but one Parguinote should 
 eurvive to tell the tale. When the commissioners heard 
 this, they dispatched general Sir Frederick Adam to treat 
 with them, and endeavour to coax them out of the refrac- 
 tory spirit, which they manifested at the disposal of their 
 territory without their consent, by England. General 
 Adam landed near the town, and entered it on foot. At 
 the door of each dwelling stood its master, armed com- 
 pletely, and within were the mothers, sisters and children, 
 awaiting death at the hands of their relatives, in agonizing 
 suspense. He advanced to the public square, and found, 
 that true to their declaration, the Parguinotes had collected 
 there the bones of their ancestors, and piled them in fit 
 
1G4 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 order for burning. Ali was already on the border, and the 
 spectacle at Parga convinced the English general, if he 
 had before entertained any doubt, that there was no time 
 to be lost, in preventing a horrid and unprecedented mas- 
 sacre. He hastened, therefore, to the camp of Ali, and 
 was fortunate enough to prevent the further advance of the 
 army. Returning to the Parguinotes, he now informed 
 them that they might retire in safety, and having seen them 
 commence their removal, he went away. On the following 
 day he again visited the town, and found it a still solitude. 
 In the public square, a heap of ashes was all that remained 
 of the dead generations of Parga; the houses were all ten- 
 antless and sad. The unfortunate Parguinotes went to 
 Corfu, where they awaited the tardy distribution of the sum 
 of two hundred and twelve dollars per head, which was to 
 lecompense them for the loss of country and all its endear- 
 ments. Few of the houseless wanderers, we believe, ac- 
 knowledged the sufficiency of the satisfaction. 
 
 I charge thee fling away ambition : 
 By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, 
 The image of his maker, hope to win by't. 
 Love thyself last. Cherish those hearts that hate thee. 
 Deception earns not more than honesty. 
 Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace. 
 To silence envious tongues be just and fear not. 
 Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, 
 Thy god's and truth's; then if thou fallest, 
 Thou fallest a blessed martyr. Shakspeare. 
 
 Patrick Henry was one of those, " who gave the first 
 impulse to the ball of the revolution." A Virginian by 
 birth, the first years of his life were marked by no event, 
 which gave the slightest indication of his future eminence. 
 Books were his aversion. He was to all intents and pur- 
 poses an idler. His mind was indeed active ; but it seemed 
 to loathe all profitable pursuits ; and his time was divided be- 
 tween the uproar of the chase and the languor of inaction. 
 He married at eighteen ; commenced business as a mer- 
 chant ; became a bankrupt, and in misery and distress turn- 
 ed his attention to the bar, and began the study of the law. 
 About the time he commenced practising in his new pro- 
 fession, the famous contest concerning the stipends of the 
 
PATRIOTISM, I«5 
 
 ftldrgy commenced in Yirginia, between Church and State, 
 or the clergy on the one hand, and the people and the Le* 
 gislature on the other. The dispute was popularly termed, 
 the "parson's cause;" and young Henry, with all his feel- 
 ings warmly enlisted, engaged in it, When the day of trial 
 arrived, the court was crowded almost to suffocation, and a 
 breathless silence marked the commencement of Henry's 
 speech, His manner and his matter were, at first, both 
 awkward and unprepossessing, and his friends were fast 
 becoming dispirited/ when, warming with his subject, his 
 ftgure gradually became erect, his gesture graceful and 
 jimposing, his tones clear and emphatic, and his confused 
 sand inelegant stile was changed into a flow of eloquence, 
 whieh bore along with it the minds of men, astounded his 
 opponents, drew from his friends reiterated marks of ap- 
 plause, and at once established his fame upon the high 
 ground, which it ever afterwards maintained- From that 
 tday Henry, now called the orator of nature, rose into polU 
 tieal distinction, and became mainly instrumental in the re » 
 publican movements of the times, The great question of 
 the revolution, the right of taxation without representation, 
 <came before the people of Virginia, and found them, in a 
 
 freat measure, unprepared for its free and liberal discussion, 
 lany hung back, who, it was thought, would have been 
 foremost in opposition to the illegal assertion of British 
 prerogative \ and many others were inclined to yield, rather 
 than discuss the question, with Great Britain to oppose 
 them. Henry was, at this time, a member of the House of 
 Burgesses of Virginia; and three days before its adjourn* 
 ment, he brought forward and carried his resolutions in op- 
 position to the Stamp Act, which was the first resistance 
 offered in America to the scheme of taxation proposed by 
 the British Parliament, 
 
 In 1774, Henry was a member of the Continental Con» 
 gress, when that venerable body met for the first time, It 
 Was he, who first broke the silence, which hung over their 
 meeting, with strains of eloquence that bore down all oppo* 
 jsition, and imparted his own spirit and firmness to the most 
 irresolute and desponding, "This/' said he, "is not the 
 time for ceremony ; the question before the house is one of 
 awful moment to the country, It is nothing less than free. 
 dorn or slavery, If we wish to be free, we must fight, I 
 repeat it, sir, we must fight, An appeal to arms, and to the 
 god of hosts, ie all that is left to us. " It is in vain, sir, fo 
 16 
 
166 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace ! peace ! 
 but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The 
 next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears 
 the clash of resounding arms; our brethren are already in 
 the field; why stand Ave here idle ? What is it that gentle- 
 men wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, and 
 peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains 
 and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what 
 course others may take, but as for me," he continued, with 
 both his arms extended upwards, his brows knit, every feature 
 marked with the resolute purpose of his soul, and his voice 
 swelled to its boldest note of exclamation, "give me liberty, 
 or give me death!" He took his seat, and the cry "to 
 arms," seemed to quiver upon every lip, and gleam from 
 every eye. 
 
 Henry lived to witness the glorious issue of that revolu- 
 tion,|which his genius had set in motion, and, to use his 
 own prophetic language, before its commencement, " to see 
 America take her station among the nations of the earth." 
 
 The Declaration of American Independence, which was 
 published on the 4th of July, 1776, was an act of such a 
 nature, with reference to the British government, whose 
 colonial relations with the Colonies, it at once severed, 
 that in case of an unsuccessful issue of the contest which 
 followed, its framers and adopters would have been consi- 
 dered the most prominent objects of vengeance; and those, 
 whom succeeding time has now lauded as heroes and pa- 
 triots, would have suffered the most ignominious punish- 
 ment, that could have been inflicted upon rebellious trai- 
 tors — so much does the result regulate public opinion of the 
 means. This was not unknown or unexpected by the sign- 
 ers of the declaration; yet not one quailed, when the mo- 
 ment came, when he was to affix his name to that, which, by 
 so doing, he might make his death warrant. " I was deter- 
 mined," says William Ellery, one of the members "to see 
 how they all looked, as they came up to the table to sign 
 the instrument. I placed myself by the side of Charles 
 Thompson, the secretary of the Congress, and eyed each 
 closely, as he affixed his name. Undaunted resolution was 
 displayed in every countenance." 
 
 The first signature to this most celebrated declaration, was 
 that of John Hancock, a bold and beautiful autograph, and 
 
PATRIOTISM. 167 
 
 four or five names below it, is that of Stephen Hopkins, the 
 hand writing of one, who seems to have trembled as he 
 wrote; the lines are jagged and irregular, the letters ill- 
 formed, but the name, intended to be signed, as intelligible 
 as any other. But it was disease, not fear, which was indi- 
 cated by the signature of Hopkins. He trembled as he 
 approached the table; but his countenance was one of 
 proud exultation, as steadying his right hand, by holding it 
 at the wrist with his left, he signed the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 The British had taken possession of a beautiful and very 
 valuable house, belonging to Mrs. Jacob Motte. Lieuten- 
 ant colonel Lee waited upon her, and informed her that in 
 order to dislodge the enemy, he was afraid it would become 
 necessary to burn the building. She instantly replied, 
 " The sacrifice of my property is nothing, and I shall view 
 its destruction with delight, if it shall in any degree contri- 
 bute to the good of my country." This was not a mere 
 boast. Mrs. Motte with her own hands furnished the ar- 
 rows, that were to convey the combustible materials to the 
 roof. 
 
 This was one of the many acts of female patriotism, ex- 
 hibited during the American revolution. 
 
 The following character is not fictitious. It is the cha- 
 racter of one, who lived and fought only for his country. 
 It was pronounced by those who knew him best, his com- 
 panions in victory and defeat, and his friends and neigh- 
 bours. It may well be taken as a standard of patriotic 
 virtue. 
 
 "Colonel William Washington possessed a felicitous 
 combination of mind and heart, rarely united, which pro- 
 duced in him great virtues, untarnished by the association 
 of corresponding vices ; which armed him with an equa- 
 nimity, unalterable by the frowns of adversity or the smiles 
 of fortune, and which, while it imparted firmness to his 
 conduct, gave mildness to his manners. He was a gallant 
 soldier; enterprising without ambition, encountering dan- 
 ger, not for his own renown, but for his country's inde- 
 pendence. He was a patriot; inflexible without obstinacy, 
 warm without passion, and zealous without bigotry: and in 
 
m practical ttEADtsQ mmm, 
 
 private life, he was useful without parade, liberal Without 
 ostentation, amiable without weakness, and honourable 
 without fastidiousness/' 
 
 Mesolutionf Am* Kefi* Society of Carolina 
 
 Colonel Owen Roberts, of the American army, fell ffior* 
 tally wounded in the battle of Stono, during the revolution/ 
 His son was in the same action, and hearing of his father 5 g 
 situation* hastened to find him. The expiring soldier, oh* 
 serving the anguish of his son, addressed hint With the* 
 greatest composure i "1 rejoice^ my boy, once again to see 
 and embrace you. Take this sword, which has never yet 
 been tarnished by dishonour, and let it not be idle, while' 
 the liberty of your country is in danger* Receive my hies* 
 sing Farewell. Now hasten to your duty/ 5 
 
 Colonel John Laurens was sent by Congress to negoti- 
 ate a loan of money from France, during the revolution- 
 The Count de Vergennes, the French minister, received 
 him kindly, and promised that the loan should be made* 
 He contrived excuses, however, from day to day; so that, 
 at the end of a month, Laurens found himself as far from* 
 the object of his visit, as when he arrived in Paris* Fully 
 aware of the immense importance of the loan to America, 
 Laurens resolved upon a novel and almost daring* pro* 
 eedure. In defiance of all etiquette, he determined to 
 make a personal appeal to the king himself, Dr. Franklin, 
 the American minister at the court of France, endeavour** 
 ed to dissuade him ,' but finding him determined, refused to 
 bear any part of the responsibility of such conduct* Lau* 
 rens was not to be deterred $ but at the first levee, walking 
 directly to the king, lie presented him with a memorial, 
 and after explaining briefly its object, concluded as follows* 
 *' Should the favour asked be denied, or even delayed, there 
 is cause to fear, that the sword, which I wear, may no 
 longer be drawn in defence of the' liberties of my country;. 
 but be wielded as a British subject., against the monarchy 
 at France." His decision was rewarded; delays no longer 
 opposed him, and his negotiation was immediately sue* 
 cessfuL 
 
 The battle of King's Mountain, fought and won, during 
 the American Revolution, by the American** affords & 
 
PATRIOTISM. 169 
 
 strong instance of the effect of patriotic feeling in the re- 
 sult of a contest with troops fighting from obedience only. 
 The British were a well disciplined body of men, under a 
 brave and experienced commander. The Americans were 
 almost without discipline; and certainly, upon that occa- 
 sion, observed no more of it, than to obey, in every parti- 
 cular, the instructions of the following speech, from one of 
 their numerous commanders. "My brave fellows, we have 
 beat the tories, and we can beat them. They are all cow- 
 ards. If they had the spirit of men, they would join with 
 their fellow citizens in supporting the independence of 
 their country. When engaged, you are not to wait for the 
 word of command from me. I will show you, by my exam- 
 ple, how to fight. I can undertake no more. Every man 
 must consider himself as an officer, and act from his own 
 judgment. Fire as quick as you can, and stand your 
 ground as long as you can. When you can do no better, 
 get behind trees, and retreat; but I beg of you, not to run 
 quite off. If we are repulsed, let us make a point to re- 
 turn, and renew the fight. Perhaps we may have better 
 luck in the second attempt, than the first. If any of you 
 are afraid, such have leave to retire ; and they are request- 
 ed to take themselves off immediately." Whenever the 
 British charged, one body of the Americans retreated behind 
 trees, while another attacked the rear of the British, who, 
 turning upon them, put them in like manner to flight. The 
 first set, by this time rallying, renewed the fight, and were 
 again momentarily dispersed ; the British were then annoy- 
 ed by the second, and were finally forced to surrender to 
 this novel species of attack. 
 
 Colonel Tarleton went to the house of an American? 
 during the revolution, and passed himself off to his host 
 and family, as colonel Washington, of the continental 
 troops. The American was proud of having so distin- 
 guished an officer in his house, and paid him every atten- 
 tion, which the most unbounded hospitality could dictate, 
 at the same time informing him, ponfidentially* as he 
 thought, of the plans of himself and neighbours, to rise in 
 arms against the British. Tarleton played the part, which 
 he had assumed, to admiration ; and finally induced his host 
 to become his guide, to a place in the neighbourhood.' 
 On their arrival, Tarleton's soldiers appeared in full view, 
 15* 
 
170 PRACTICAL MAfiW LESS'OJCi, 
 
 and the unsuspecting American; for the first time discover* 
 ing his mistake, was made a prisoner, and conveyed to 
 Camden* Here, he was frequently forced to ride in a cart 
 to the gallows, to witness the execution of his countrymen 
 and friends, and was each time told to make all his prepare 
 rions for death, as his time would certainly come next/ 
 "Let it come as soon as it may/' he used to reply, on all 
 such occasions, " I am ready and willing to die in the cause 
 of my country. But remember, if I am hanged, I have" 
 many friends in general Marion's brigade, and my death 
 will occasion a severe retaliation.' 1 Owing to his firmness^ 
 his known virtue, or his threats, his life was preserved, but 
 be was for a long time cruelly kept in chains* The scars 
 df these he carried to his grave ' f and in shewing them, a& 
 lie sometimes did, to his young friends, he used to tell 
 tfoem, "That if the good of their country required it, they 
 should suffer imprisonment and death in her cause/' 
 
 The battle of Lexington, in 1775, Commenced the war 
 of the American revolution. The defeat of the English 
 regulars by a body of farmers, armed with their bird guns* 
 without discipline, and almost without a leader, was as un* 
 expected by the royalists, as it was cheering and inspiriting 
 £o the republicans. The glorious news, flew like wild fire, 
 from one end of the country to the other* The intelli- 
 gence of it reached general Putnam, as he was engaged 
 m ploughing on his farm, in Brookline, Connecticut* The 
 field was half ploughed, when a neighbour stopped Put* 
 nam, in the middle of a furrow, to tell him the news of the 
 light* He heard the story to the end, then leaving his 
 plough where it stood, he hastened, in the clothes he had 
 oil at the time, to the American forces* Here he was ap^ 
 pointed to the rank of general, by Washington, and was 
 one of the most conspicuous characters, in the memorable 
 iight of Bunker's Hill* Concerning Putnam, the following 
 was the testimony of Washington* "The name of Put-* 
 iiam/' says he, "is not forgotten; nor will it be, but with 
 that stroke of time, which shall obliterate from my mind* 
 the remembrance of all those toils and fatigues, through 
 which we have struggled, for the preservation and estab* 
 lishment of the fights, liberties, and independence of our 
 country/' 
 
PATRIOTISM, 171 
 
 fiim. in their purpose of emancipating their country, the 
 Americans of the revolution bore, with patience and con* 
 lentmentj every privation. Nor was the morai courage 
 which sustained them, without its effect upon their oppo* 
 hents. An English officer Was sent from Georgetown, to 
 treat with general Marion, on some important business* 
 When this Was concluded, Marion invited him to remain 
 to dinner. He consented ; and after waiting for some time, 
 a few roasted potatoes, on pieces of bark, were placed be* 
 fore them. "You see your dinner, sir," said the American 
 General. The officer ate, and at length asked, if such was 
 the usual fare of his host. "No," replied the other, "we 
 are not always so Well off; and it is fortunate that you have 
 arrived, when we have more than our usual allowance." 
 The Englishman returned to Georgetown, and related what 
 he had seen. " We may beat them by numbers and disci* 
 pline to-day/' he concluded, "but the spirit, which 1 have 
 seen displayed, is untameable, and will Collect them in arms 
 again to*morrow. We may conquer, but we cannot sub* 
 due them." 
 
 In 1794, an officer of distinguished military rank, and 
 who had rendered important services in the American army, 
 Was nominated by general Washington, to a command infe* 
 rior to general Hamilton, who had been raised over his 
 head. On receiving the appointment, he indignantly ex* 
 claimed, "Though my salvation depended upon it, 1 would 
 spurn the commission, rather than serve under a man whom 
 I have once commanded." General Charles & Pinkney, 
 who was Hamilton's senior in rank, was also placed under 
 his orders. Pinkney' s answer to the person, who would 
 have excited him to opposition, was in the spirit of true 
 patriotism, and formed a strong contrast to the proud, but 
 selfish expressions of the other. "I am confident that the 
 commander in chief has sufficient reasons for this prefer* 
 ence. Let us first dispose of our enemies; We shall then 
 have leisure to settle the question of rank*" 
 
 When President Adams, in 1798, wished td withhold the 
 dispatches of the American envoys at Paris, G, C. Pinck* 
 ftey, Maf shall and Gerry, detailing the humiliating demand 
 for tribute from the United States, he consulted Thomas 
 Pinckney, the brother of the envoy* His fear was, that the 
 
172 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 publication would irritate the French directory, and cause 
 new indignities to be heaped upon the American represent- 
 atives. Thomas Pinckney urged their being made public, 
 in the strongest terms, nobly adding, "If the situation of 
 my brother causes you to hesitate, I speak for him, as I 
 know he would for me, were I similarly situated. The 
 glory of our country is at stake. Individual sufferings must 
 not be regarded. Be the event what it may, life is nothing, 
 compared with the honour of America." 
 
 The same Charles Pinckney, on the occasion above allud- 
 ed to, originated the national saying, "Millions for de- 
 fence; but not one cent for tribute." 
 
 It was Ellridge Gerry, one of the Congress which decid- 
 ed upon, and published the declaration of the independence 
 of the United States, who said, "It is the duty of every 
 citizen, though he have but one day to live, to devote that 
 day to the service of his country." This declaration was 
 made in the full possession of health by Mr. Gerry; and, 
 strange as the coincidence may appear, the last day of his 
 life fulfilled his own opinion of the duty of a patriot. He 
 died on his way to the Capitol, to take his seat as Pre- 
 sident of the Senate. 
 
 Beyond myself I prize my native land ; 
 
 On this foundation would I build my fame, 
 
 And emulate the Greek and Roman name ; 
 
 Would think its peace bought cheaply with my blood. 
 
 And die with pleasure for my country's good. Rome. 
 
 After the execution of colonel Hayne, by the British, the 
 aggravated circumstances of injustice which attended it, 
 induced general Greene to make a threat of retaliation, 
 upon the persons in his power. On hearing this, the com- 
 mandant of Charleston caused the American citizens who 
 were then enjoying personal liberty, within certain limits, 
 on their parole of honour, to be shut up in the prison ships, 
 that retaliation, if commenced by Greene, might be con- 
 tinued by the English. Most men, situated as these were, 
 would have advised measures on the part of the American 
 commander, which would have released them from confine- 
 
PATftlOffSM, m 
 
 mcnti arid removed all fear of their lives! being taken, On 
 the Contrary, they urged to general Greene, "That if it Ufa* 
 the lot of all or any of theixij to be sacrificed, theif blood 
 Could not be disposed of more to the advancement of the 
 glorious cause, to which they had adhered." 
 
 After the arrest of major Andre, colonel Glacier, the com* 
 ffiandant of the castle of St. Augustine, sent word to gen* 
 era! Gadsden, an American officer of high rank and Cour* 
 Itftij who was his prisoner, that he must prepare himself for 
 the worst, as in case of the death of Andre, he would bn 
 selected as the object for retaliation. The reply of Gads* 
 den was full of the noblest patriotism. " Tell colonel Gla* 
 fcier," said he to the messenger, "that he will ever find me" 
 ready to die for my country j and though I know that it is 
 impossible for Washington to yield the right of an indepen* 
 dent state, by the law of War, to fear or affection, yet I will 
 not shrink from the sacrifice, and Will' rather ascend the? 
 scaffold, than purchase with my life, the dishonour of my 
 country," 
 
 General Nelson commanded a large body of militia, at 
 the siege of York Town, which Was his native places One 
 of the most conspicuous objects from the American lines. 
 Was his own house; and in the cannonade, which daily 
 took place, he Was astonished to see that it escaped unhurt, 
 while its neighbours Were crumbling under the fire of the 
 American artillery. At last he suspected, that the men 
 Would not fire at it, out of respect to his property 5 and ask" 
 ing, if such was not the cause of its preservation, he found 
 that it was. "Don't spare the house, my friends, because 
 it is mine ; the English know that, as Well as you do, and 
 have taken up their quarters in it* They shall not escape, 
 however, under my protection ; so fire at it directly, and let 
 us see if you can hit it." Two pieces were accordingly 
 pointed against the house. The first shot went through it, 
 and killed two of a large company of officers, then indulg- 
 ing in the pleasures of the table. Other balls soon dislodg- 
 ed the hostile tenants. 
 
 Although the structure of a tyrant's throne 
 Rise on the necks of half a suffering world, 
 Fear trembles in the cement ; prayers, and teara, 
 
174 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 And secret curses sap its mouldering base, 
 And steal the pillars of allegiance from it; 
 Then let a single arm but bear the sway, 
 Headlong it turns, and drives upon destruction. 
 
 Brooke. 
 
 Madame Montilla, a lady of Caraccas, had three sons, 
 all of whom were deeply implicated in the schemes, then 
 on foot, for freeing Venezuela from the crown and tyranny 
 of Spain. The mother was no less enthusiastic than her 
 children. The eldest son retired, after some time, from the 
 army, in disgust, at the conduct. of its leader. The second 
 son was induced by the arts of a friend, to desert to Mon- 
 teverde, the Spanish general; and the third, having been 
 taken prisoner, was confined by the Spaniards in a dungeon 
 in Laguayra. Madame Montilla was so mortified at the 
 conduct of her second son, that she immediately disinherits 
 ed him, and sent him word, that he must hereafter consider 
 himself as an alien from her heart and fortune. At this 
 time, Monteverde had obtained possession of Caraccas, and 
 waiting on the patriot dame, gave her to understand, that 
 if she would alter her will, and restore the deserter to her 
 favour, her third son, who was then more rigorously con- 
 fined than ever, should be liberated and restored to her. 
 The mother was indignant at the proposal of Monteverde, 
 and answered him thus: "I glory in what I have done ; and 
 while my second son may descend to the grave, with the 
 reproaches of his mother on his head, I shall exult in his 
 brother expiring*in chains, a martyr to liberty and his coun- 
 try, rather than he should have his freedom on such dishon- 
 ourable conditions." The general departed in confusion at 
 this unexpected display of patriotism, and was forced to 
 respect what he could not punish. 
 
 During the siege of Boston, in 1775, by the American 
 army, various expedients were proposed to obtain the surren- 
 der of the town, and, among others, to bombard it, and, if 
 possible, set it on fire. Many of the besiegers were, them- 
 selves, Bostonians ; and they might have been observed to 
 glance with anxious and unquiet eyes upon the place of 
 their nativity, remaining as yet, to all appearance, unharm- 
 ed by the violence of warfare. They might have been ex- 
 cused too, if they dreaded the adoption of a scheme, which 
 
PATRIOTISM. 17S 
 
 would deprive them of their homes, and make them and 
 their families houseless wanderers. Among the num- 
 ber of those, most deeply interested, was John Hancock. 
 This man was a merchant of Boston. He had received an 
 admirable education for the day; had travelled in Europe, 
 and had acquired the tastes and habits, which enabled him 
 to enjoy, in the most liberal manner, the immense fortune 
 which he possessed. He had taken an active part in the 
 first disputes with the English, was an object of particular 
 dislike to them, and possessed considerable influence in 
 the province of Massachusetts. In the town of Boston 
 were centered all his wealth, and all his hopes of temporal 
 happiness; and when the- bombardment was proposed, all 
 eyes were turned to see what effect would be produced 
 upon Hancock. " If my opinion is asked," he replied to 
 the tacit inquiry of his observers, " do that which you think 
 for the interest of the cause we have espoused, without 
 regard to any personal considerations : for myself, there is 
 my property, and I yield it freely to destruction, if, in the 
 smallest degree, it will subserve the interests of my country 
 to do so." Fortunately, the masterly manoeuvre, by which 
 the Americans obtained possession of Dorchester heights, 
 prevented the necessity of putting the patriotism of Han- 
 cock to the test. The British evacuated Boston, leaving 
 it almost uninjured. It was this patriot, who, subse- 
 quently, was chosen president of Congress, and whose 
 name, in bold and firm characters, heads the Declaration of 
 Independence. 
 
 What constitutes a state ? 
 Not high rais'd battlement or labour'd mound, 
 
 Thick wall or moated gate ; 
 Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crown'd; 
 
 Not bays and broad-arm'd ports, 
 Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride, 
 
 Not starr'd and spangled courts, 
 Where low-brow'd Baseness wafts perfume to Pride. 
 
 No : — Men, high-minded men, 
 With powers as far above dull brutes endued 
 
 In forest, brake, or den, 
 As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; 
 
 Men, who their duties know > 
 But know their rights, and, knowing dare maintain, 
 
m PRACTICAL BLADING LESSONS. 
 
 Prevent the long*aim'd blow, 
 And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; 
 
 These constitute a state j 
 And sovereign Law, that state's collected will, 
 
 O'er thrones and globes elate 
 Bits empress, crowning good, repressing ill ; 
 
 Brnit by her sacred frown, 
 The fiend, Bissention, like a vapour sinks, 
 
 And e'en th' alUdazzling Crown 
 Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks. 
 
 Since all must life resign, 
 Those sweet rewards, which decorate the brave, 
 
 'Tis folly to decline, 
 And steal, inglorious, to the silent grave, Sir W, Jmrn* 
 
 Ob Liberty, Heaven's choice prerogative! 
 True bond of law, thou social soul of property, 
 Thou breath of reason, life of life itself f 
 For thee the valiant bleed. sacred Liberty ! 
 Winged from the summer's snare, from flattering ruin, 
 Like the bold stork you seek the wintry shore, 
 Leave courts, and pomps, and palaces to slaves, 
 Cleave to the cloud, and rest upon the storm, Brooke, 
 
 George Washington was born on the §2d of February, 
 1732, in Westmoreland county, Virginia, He was the son 
 of a second marriage, and the attention of his parents wag 
 divided among many children; yet the utmost care was be* 
 stowed upon his education, and in infancy almost, he was 
 taught to discern the difference between truth and false* 
 hood, selfishness and disinterestedness, religion and the 
 want of it, and the happiness or misery that would ensue, 
 from his choice between those alternatives. To the early 
 instructions of his wise and worthy parents, are to be attri* 
 buted the admirable qualities which he displayed through 
 life, In the acquisition of knowledge, he, as a boy, evinc* 
 ed readiness of apprehension, and retentiveness of memory, 
 A military genius was also developed in his amusements, 
 While at school, in his eleventh year, he used to set his 
 playmates in array against each other, and lead them on to 
 pportive combat, His muscular strength, and his swiftnest 
 of foot, were unrivalled-; his constitution was sound and 
 hardy, and these personal advantages fitted him well for 
 
PATRIOTISM. 177 
 
 his subsequent career. At the age of fifteen, his martial 
 spirit led him on board a man of war, in which, through the 
 influence of his friends, he obtained a commission of mid- 
 shipman; but, on the eve of sailing, he abandoned his in- 
 tention, in compliance with the entreaties of his widowed 
 mother, whose feelings he was resolved to spare, at the ex- 
 pense of his own wishes. So high was the public estima- 
 tion of his courage, talent, and probity, that in his twentieth 
 year, he was appointed adjutant general of a division of 
 Virginia troops, then in training for actual service. The 
 governor of his native state, being informed, in 1753, of the" 
 design of the French to connect Canada with Louisiana, 
 by a chain of fortresses along the Ohio, determined to dis- 
 patch a letter to the French commander, demanding that he 
 should desist from the prosecution of his plan. To procure 
 a messenger to perform the journey was a matter of doubt 
 and difficulty, as the country to be traversed was wild and 
 dangerous, a trackless wilderness, peopled by beasts of 
 prey and bloodthirsty savages. Washington, at this junc- 
 ture, stepped forth, and promptly tendered his services for 
 the expedition. They were accepted; and, accompanied by 
 two attendants only, he went and returned in safety, after 
 encountering and escaping from innumerable perils of the 
 most fearful kinds, and executing his trust in the most able 
 and satisfactory manner. His conduct on this occasion, 
 called from the country the loudest commendations; and 
 when he was introduced, by one of his warm friends, into 
 the house of Burgesses, they unanimously voted him their 
 thanks, and rising in a body, by a simultaneous impulse, sa- 
 luted him with a general bow. So unobtrusive was his mo- 
 desty, that when he rose to return his acknowledgments to 
 the house, his agitation would only suffer him faintly to ar- 
 ticulate the speaker's name. When, in the following year, 
 the war against the French and Indians, on the Ohio, com- 
 menced, Washington led to the westward, a small body of 
 soldiers, as active and determined as himself, with whom 
 he successfully defended a temporary fort, against the furi- 
 ous and continued assaults of a vastly superior force. On 
 the arrival of Braddock, in 1755, he was called from his 
 retirement, and appointed the aid de camp of that general, 
 who marched immediately against the French and Indians 
 in the west, with an army of 2000 strong. The command- 
 er was a headstrong man, ignorant of the character of the 
 foe, with whom he was contending, yet obstinately pursuing 
 
178 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 his own plans, in spite of the remonstrances of Washing- 
 ton. Marching forward without the necessary caution, 
 Braddock was suddenly attacked by the French and their 
 savage allies, who, under cover of the woods, poured a fire 
 upon his troops, with dreadful effect. He received a mor- 
 tal wound, and the total annihilation of his army would 
 have followed, but for the gallantry and skill of Washing- 
 ton, who covered their disastrous retreat; in doing this, his 
 person was so exposed to the fire of the Indians, who re- 
 peatedly made him the mark of their deadly aim, that his 
 preservation was a perfect miracle, and gave strong evi- 
 dence of the peculiar purposes of Providence, in relation 
 to himself and his country. For several years after Brad- 
 dock's defeat, the frontiers were exposed to the incursions 
 of the savages, and Washington was almost wholly engag- 
 ed in ranging the forests in their defence, until the reduc- 
 tion of fort Duquesne, and the consequent dispersion of 
 the Indians, allowed him an interval of peaceful occupa- 
 tion and enjoyment. He was elected in 1758, to the Legis- 
 lature of Virginia, and soon after married. As an agricul- 
 turist, he now for several years resided in retirement at 
 Mount Vernon, the estate he had inherited from his brother, 
 until the breaking out of the revolutionary war. In 1775, 
 he received from Congress, the high appointment of com- 
 mander in chief of the American forces. When his appoint- 
 ment was announced to him, the following was the noble 
 answer of the father of his country. "Though I am truly 
 sensible of the high honour, done me in this appointment, 
 yet I feel great diffidence, from a consciousness, that my 
 abilities and military experience, may not be equal to the 
 extensive and important trust: however, as the Congress 
 desire it, I will enter on the momentous duty, and exert 
 every power I possess, in their service, for the support of 
 the glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial 
 thanks for this distinguished testimony of their approbation ; 
 but, lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavourable 
 to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every 
 gentleman in the room, that I this day declare, with the 
 utmost sincerity, that I do not think myself equal to the 
 command I am honoured with. As to pay, sir, I beg leave 
 to assure the Congress, that as no pecuniary consideration 
 could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment, 
 at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not 
 wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an exact ac- 
 
PATRIOTISM. 179 
 
 count of my disbursements ; these, I doubt not, they will 
 discharge, and that is all I require." With an army of 
 twenty thousand men, he fought his first important battle 
 upon Long Island; and when defeated by superior disci- 
 pline and numbers, and hemmed within the compass of a 
 small and indefensible fortification, he effected a masterly 
 retreat, and by a rapid transportation of his troops across 
 the East river, under a dense fog, he placed them in safety 
 beyond the reach of the enemy. Compelled to evacuate 
 New York, he was driven across the Hudson to New Jer- 
 sey, and forced to retire, until, with the Delaware as a bar- 
 rier, he was able to make a stand. On being asked, in a 
 tone of impatience, by one of his officers, "Where he 
 would stop retreating," he replied, "If we can do no 
 better, we will retreat over every river in America, and as 
 a last refuge entrench ourselves in our mountains ; whence 
 we shall annoy, and finally, I trust, expel the enemies of 
 our country." While, however, he made this characteristic 
 declaration, he was meditating an enterprize, which, suc- 
 ceeding to his wishes, turned the tide of events in his 
 favour. Crossing the Delaware in the winter, while the 
 river was filled with floating ice, he routed and captured 
 almost the entire garrison at Trenton, and encamped on 
 one bank of* a creek, while the enemy occupied the other. 
 By a stratagem, he avoided them, for the present; and leav- 
 ing his watch-fires burning, he broke up his camp at mid- 
 night, and by a forced march, reached Princeton at sun 
 rise, where he totally defeated a large body of British troops, 
 who, unsuspicious of his approach, were on their way to 
 join Lord Cornwallis, at Trenton. By this daring move- 
 ment, and its consequences, he frustrated the plans of the 
 English general, and confined him to his winter quarters. 
 The enemy, under the command of Lord Howe, now ad- 
 vanced upon Philadelphia. The battle of Germantown 
 followed, in which the Americans, at the moment of success, 
 were deprived of a splendid'victory, by the mistaken order 
 of a drunken officer to retreat. The retreat -of General 
 Clinton, from Philadelphia to New York, across New Jer- 
 sey, was rapidly followed up by Washington, who overtook 
 him at Monmouth, where a decisive triumph was obtained 
 over the enemy. Arnold's treasonable plot, having for 
 its object the destruction or surrender of the American 
 army, then occupying the fortifications at West Point, was 
 discovered by the timely apprehension of Major Andre, 
 
180 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 who in conveying despatches to New York, containing the 
 details of the design, was seized by three militiamen, and 
 sent a prisoner to the commander in chief. The unfortu- 
 nate British officer, a man of amiable character and pleas- 
 ing accomplishments, was sentenced to death, as a spy, by 
 a court martial. In his behalf, all the kind sensibilities of 
 Washington were awakened ; but a stern sense of duty for- 
 bade him to listen to the pleadings of compassion, and 
 Andre was executed. Lord Cornwallis possessed himself, 
 in 1781, of Yorktown, in Virginia, and strongly fortified 
 that post, within which he concentrated his army. The 
 American general was then in New Jersey, with his forces, 
 but, resolved to strike a decisive blow, he induced Clinton 
 to believe, that he intended to make an attack upon New 
 York, then occupied by that general ; he marched to the south, 
 however, and in a short time, appeared most unexpectedly, 
 before Yorktown, where the surrender of the British army, 
 was the last event of great consequence in the war, which 
 was soon after concluded by an acknowledgment of the 
 independence of the United States. Great Britain with- 
 drew her armies from our coast, and the period arrived, 
 when the services of our own soldiers being no longer re- 
 quired, it became necessary to disband them. Congress 
 accordingly commanded Washington to discharge the 
 troops, and he prepared to obey; although at that moment 
 an opportunity offered itself, which might have successfully 
 tempted the virtue of one, less powerfully armed with the 
 lofty and unassailable principles of pure self-sacrificing pa- 
 triotism. His companions in arms had beggared them- 
 selves in the cause of their country, and that country was 
 destitute of the means, even of sending them, in comforta- 
 ble apparel, to their homes. The excitement of feeling, re- 
 sulting from their situation, was inflamed to a tremendous 
 pitch, by the circulation among them of publications, de- 
 scribing their condition in the strongest colours, and stimu- 
 lating their irritation against Congress to madness. Had 
 Washington, at this juncture, placed himself at their head, 
 he might have annihilated the governing power, and estab- 
 lished himself upon the throne of a military despotism. 
 Instead of acting thus, he employed his unbounded influ- 
 ence in soothing and reconciling them to the present hard- 
 ship of their case, — assuring them, that they would eventu- 
 ally receive full remuneration. The spirit of mutiny was 
 quelled ; they submitted, and bade their beloved commander 
 
PATRIOTISM. 181 
 
 farewell, with mutual and overwhelming emotion. He now 
 hastened to Annapolis, where Congress held its session, 
 to resign, into the hands from which, eight years before, he 
 had received it, his high and responsible commission. He 
 would have done this in writing, anxious to avoid parade; 
 but his wishes were overruled ; and upon the 23d of Decem- 
 ber, 1783, he made a public resignation of his office, in the 
 presence of those, whose overpowering gratitude would 
 scarcely permit an utterance to their feelings. Once more a 
 private citizen, he again resumed the avocations of a coun- 
 try gentleman; still, however, employing himself in suggest- 
 ing and advocating projects, for the advancement of his 
 country's domestic interests. The existing confederacy 
 proving itself inefficient as a national government, he urged 
 the calling of a convention, of which, when it assembled, 
 he was chosen the president; and he was unanimously 
 elected to the chief magistracy of the union, as soon as the 
 new constitution, framed by that convention, commenced 
 its operation. Placed at the head of an untried experi- 
 mental system, he had many great obstacles to encounter. 
 Opposition at home and enmity abroad, menaced the exis- 
 tence of the infant republic; yet his wisdom, vigour, and 
 firmness, overcame all difficulties. After filling the exalted 
 office which he held, for the term of eight years, he declined 
 a re-election, and retired finally, like another Cincinnatus, 
 to his farm at Mount Vernon. The brief remainder of 
 Washington's life, was spent in the bosom of his family. 
 He died in 1799, after a short illness, lamented by. a larger 
 portion of the human race, than ever yet sorrowed for the 
 death of an individual, however illustrious or good. His 
 character is easily summed up, for it is one of almost un- 
 mingled excellence. To every private and domestic virtue, 
 he added the most pure and expanded patriotism, together 
 with the talent, energy, aud perseverance, necessary to 
 direct his affection for his country, to the advancement of 
 her happiness. 
 
 In a proclamation, issued by General Gage, a short time 
 before the breaking out of the revolution, is the following 
 passage. "I do hereby, in his majesty's name, offer and 
 promise his most gracious pardon to all persons, who shall 
 forthwith lay down their arms, and return to their duty as 
 peaceable subjects ; excepting only from the benefit of such 
 16* 
 
182 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 pardon, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose offences 
 are of too flagitious a character, to admit of any other con- 
 sideration, than that of condign punishment." The of- 
 fences here alluded to, by the general of the English king, 
 consisted in the purest and most disinterested patriotism. 
 Destined for a mercantile life, Samuel Adams, was led away 
 from business by an absorbing interest in the political events 
 of the d^y. His education, talents and energy, soon ac- 
 quired for him the confidence of his fellow citizens of Mas- 
 sachusetts, and he was elected a member of the Provincial 
 Legislature from Boston. Here his opposition to the mea- 
 sures of the British administration was powerful and suc- 
 cessful, and created an uneasiness in the ruling powers, 
 which they endeavoured to remove by bribing him to silence. 
 Colonel Fenton was, upon one occasion, sent to him by go- 
 vernor Gage, with the most liberal offers of reward, if he 
 would cease his opposition to the policy of the crown, ac- 
 companied with threats of transportation to England, to be 
 tried for high treason, if he persisted in his present course. 
 Adams heard the proposal and the threat with profound at- 
 tention, and when the messenger had concluded, asked, 
 whether he would, in return, communicate his reply, ver- 
 batim, to the governor. Thinking perhaps, that he had 
 gained his point, Colonel Fenton readily gave the required 
 promise. His word of honour was demanded, and he also 
 pledged it. Then rising in his seat, and assuming a deter- 
 mined manner, the stern patriot said; "I trust. I have long 
 since made my peace with the king of kings. No personal 
 consideration shall induce me to abandon the righteous 
 cause of my country. Tell governor Gage, that it is the ad- 
 vice of Samuel Adams to him, no longer to insult the feel- 
 ings of an exasperated people." Colonel Fenton made no 
 answer; but retired, at once, to convey this unexpected reply 
 to the royal governor, who found that there was, contrary to 
 his belief, one American at least, whom bribery could not 
 corrupt, nor threats intimidate. 
 
 It was of Samuel Adams, that governor Huchinson wrote, 
 when required to gain him to the interests of England. 
 "Such is the obstinate and inflexible disposition of the 
 man, that he never can be conciliated by any office or gift 
 whatsoever." The information thus given was received 
 with a ludicrous kind of incredulity by the partizans of the 
 ministry in England, arising naturally enough from the com- 
 parison of such a disposition, with those that personal and 
 
PATRIOTISM. 183 
 
 daily experience presented in the politicians around them, 
 Adams lived to see his country free, the old articles of con- 
 federation dissolved, and an admirable constitution adopted, 
 and died in 1803. Like Hancock, he was a member of the 
 Congress, which declared independence. 
 
 In the year 1776, about the time of the declaration of 
 American independence, Lord Howe arrived in Long 
 Island, with a large army of British and Hessian troops, 
 and, a short time after, the disastrous battle of Flat Bush 
 took place. The defeat of the Americans presented, in 
 the opinion of Lord Howe, a favourable opportunity for 
 conciliation, and he made some advances towards negotia- 
 tion with Congress. A committee of that body was ap- 
 pointed to treat with the English general, consisting of John 
 Adams, Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Rutledge. They met Lord 
 Howe at Staten Island; and when they landed on the shore, 
 they were conducted to the commander in chief, through 
 the ranks of an army of twenty thousand men, placed in 
 such order as to produce the most striking effect. Aware 
 of the intention of this military display, the American com- 
 missioners did not manifest the slightest appearance of sur- 
 prise. Desirous to avoid compromitting the fancied dignity 
 of the English crown, the English commander told the 
 commissioners, that he could not so far recognize the ex- 
 istence of a Congress, as to treat with them as its accredit- 
 ed agents ; but that he was at liberty to consult with any 
 gentlemen of character and standing, upon the means of a 
 pacification between the mother country and her colonies. 
 The committee replied, that as they came to hear, he might 
 address them in any character which he chose : but they 
 certainly would consider themselves a committee of the 
 Congress of the United States. "You may view me in any 
 light you please," said Mr. Adams, "save in that of a Bri- 
 tish subject." This was not the spirit, which promised any 
 accommodation, on terms agreeable to England, who, at that 
 time, would have been contented with nothing less, than 
 the return of the colonies to subjection, — and the conference 
 was therefore broken up, without any result to either party. 
 
 In 1777, Mr. Adams was appointed commissioner to 
 France, to take the place of Silas Deane, and embarked on 
 board the Boston frigate. In the course of the voyage, the 
 
184 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 commander of the Boston saw a sail, which carried the flag 
 of the enemy, and the temptation to engage with her was 
 so strong, that, although contrary to his orders, which were 
 limited to carrying Mr. Adams to France, he determined, if 
 possible, to capture her. Having obtained the permission 
 of the commissioner, he made all sail in chase; and when 
 coming up with the enemy, he represented the danger of 
 remaining on deck, and insisted upon Mr. Adams's retiring 
 below, out of gun shot. Having seen his charge safely 
 deposited with the surgeon, the captain returned to the 
 deck; the courses were clewed up, all hands beat to quar- 
 ters, bulk heads down, decks sanded, matches' lit, and the 
 fight began. In the midst of it, the captain saw, to his sur- 
 prise, that Mr. Adams had escaped from his confinement 
 below, and with musket in hand, was doing the duty of a 
 marine with great dexterity and composure. He immedi- 
 ately went to him, and said, "My duty, sir, is to carry you 
 unhurt to France; and as you are unwilling to go under 
 hatches of your own accord, it is my business to put you 
 there ;" and seizing the future president of the republic in his 
 arms, he had him again conveyed to a place of safety, and 
 took measures to keep him there/which were effectual. 
 
 Mr. Adams was the member of the Continental Congress, 
 who nominated Washington to the place of commander in 
 chief, and did much to secure his election. He was one 
 of the committee, which drafted the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 A short time before the battle of Trenton, in 1776, the 
 prospects of America were extremly gloomy, and many, 
 among her people, began to look forward to the consequen- 
 ces of an unfavourable result to their struggle for freedom. 
 The inveteracy of Great Britain was too well understood 
 to admit of any doubt as to the course of revenge, which 
 she would pursue against those, who had been most active 
 in the revolution. William Williams, William Hillhouse, 
 and Benjamin Huntington, met at this crisis, at the house 
 of the first named gentleman ; and, as usual, the conversa- 
 tion turned upon the signs of the times, and the probable 
 result of the war. At last, they began to consider what 
 would be their probable respective fates. "As for me," 
 said Mr. Williams, " I shall, in all human probability, be 
 hung among the first; because I have written much, talked 
 
PATRIOTISM. 185 
 
 more, and done all that I could in favour of independence." 
 Hillhouse said, that he too would most certainly follow 
 Williams in his career, for the same reasons. Huntington 
 then said, that for his part he had kept pretty quiet; and 
 that, as he neither signed the Declaration of Independence, 
 nor wrote any thing against the British government, that he 
 would, at all events, escape the gallows. "Then, sir," said 
 Williams, starting up with much violence of feeling, "you 
 ought to be hung for not having done your duty." 
 
 In the hottest of the terrible bombardment of the fort 
 on Sullivan's Island, by the British fleet, the flag staff was 
 shot away, and fell upon the beach. A serjeant named Jas- 
 per, in the second regiment of the Carolina troops, imme- 
 diately sprung over the rampart, coolly loosened the flag 
 from the broken wood, fastened it to a spunge staff, and 
 planted it in the most conspicuous place in the fort. The 
 governor of the state, for this act of heroism, presented 
 him with a sword, and offered him a commission. The 
 weapon was accepted, but the rank was declined with sin- 
 gular modesty. "Were I made an officer," he said, "my 
 comrades would be constantly blushing for my ignorance ; 
 and I should be unhappy, feeling my own inferiority. I 
 have no ambition for higher rank, than that of a serjeant." 
 
 During the revolutionary war, and immediately after his 
 return from confinement, as a prisoner of war to the Bri- 
 tish, general Gadsden was elected governor of South Caro- 
 lina by its Legislature. He declined the honour in the fol- 
 lowing letter, no less remarkable for its patriotism than its 
 modesty. 
 
 x 'Mr. Speaker and Gentlemen: I have served my country 
 in a variety of stations for thirty years, and would now 
 cheerfully make one of a forlorn hope, in an assault on the 
 lines of Charleston, if it was probable, that, with a certain 
 loss of life, you, my friends, would be reinstated in the pos- 
 session of your capitol. What I can do for my country, I 
 am willing to do : my sentiments in favour of the American 
 cause have never changed. I consider it as the cause of 
 liberty and human nature. The present times require the 
 vigour and activity of the prime of life: — the increasing 
 infirmities of old age, would prevent me from serving 
 
186 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 you to advantage. For your sake and the sake of the 
 public, I must beg your indulgence for declining so arduous 
 a trust." 
 
 Whose freedom is by suff'rance, and at will 
 Of a superior, he is never free. 
 Who lives, and is not weary of a life 
 Expos'd to manacles, deserves them well. 
 The state that strives for liberty, though foil'd, 
 And fbrc'd t' abandon what she bravely sought, 
 Deserves at least applause for her attempt, 
 And pity for her loss. But that's a cause 
 Not often unsuccessful; power usurp'd, 
 Is weakness when oppos'd; conscious of wrong, 
 'Tis pusillanimous, and prone to flight. 
 But slaves, that once conceive the glowing thought 
 Of freedom, in that hope itself possess 
 All that the contest calls for; spirit, strength, 
 The scorn of danger, and united hearts, 
 The surest presage of the good they seek. Cowper.' 
 
 In early life, general Lafayette, then Marquis, came to 
 America to assist the present United States in obtaining 
 their independence. He was young, intelligent and brave, 
 and soon acquired rank and consideration in the republican 
 armies. On his return to France, he became an actor in 
 the scenes of the French revolution, and continued engaged 
 in them, until the liberty, which he contended for, was tram- 
 pled under foot by the very men, who had undertaken to 
 establish it. He then became a voluntary exile. Scarcely, 
 however, had he left France, before he was seized, and con- 
 ducted a prisoner to the Austrian fortress of Olmutz, there 
 to be detained in close confinement. His situation excited 
 the sympathy of the free and intelligent in Europe and 
 America. Petitions praying his release, were presented 
 from all quarters: but in vain; the emperor of Austria was 
 not to be moved; and it was left to two young men, both 
 strangers to his person, to attempt, and for a moment effect, 
 his deliverance. Dr. Bolman, a Hanoverian student, first 
 conceived the idea of freeing Lafayette, and he immediately 
 imparted it to colonel Francis K. Huger, a young American, 
 asking his assistance in putting it into execution. The 
 latter most readily consented; and it only remained to con- 
 
PATRIOTISM. 187 
 
 cert the plan of proceeding. Huger feigned sickness, and 
 Bolman, assuming the character of his physician, recom- 
 mended travel and change of air, and accompanied the in- 
 valid on his journey. They visited many of the German 
 cities, and at last, as if by accident, arrived at Olmutz. 
 Here they contrived to become acquainted with Lafayette's 
 goaler, a kind-hearted man, who allowed them to send 
 books to his prisoner, provided that they first passed under 
 his inspection. On the margin of the pages, the two friends 
 wrote words, unmeaning in themselves, but which, when 
 put together, told who they were, and their object in Aus- 
 tria. Lafayette understood them, and in a note of thanks, 
 informed them, that he had read their books with marked 
 attention, and was charmed with their contents. This was 
 admirable : it led to a correspondence, which, to the goal- 
 er's eye, was composed entirely of unmeaning compli- 
 ments. The prisoner did not find it so, however; on the 
 margin of a book, which accompanied the first note, he 
 read, "Hold the paper before the fire." He did so, and 
 words, written in lemon juice, became visible. In this way, 
 their plans were arranged in detail. The goaler had inform- 
 ed Huger, that Lafayette was permitted to ride occasionally 
 beyond the walls of the town, in an open carriage, attend- 
 ed by an officer at his side, and a soldier mounted behind. 
 It was settled, that the attempt should be made during one 
 of these rides. After waiting for several days, the hour 
 appointed at last arrived, and the two friends, well mounted 
 and armed, left Olmutz, Bolman leading a third horse for the 
 general. They soon saw the carriage approaching, and 
 riding boldly up to it, they disarmed the officer, put the sol- 
 dier to flight, and liberated Lafayette. The led horse, 
 however, alarmed by the momentary contest, broke loose, 
 and fled across the plain. Bolman rode off in pursuit, and 
 Huger, dismounting, forced Lafayette to mount, pointed 
 out the road, and in a short time saw him enter a wood, 
 which concealed his further progress. In the mean while, 
 Bolman returned unsuccessful. The horse had escaped. 
 Only one now remained; and on this, mounting together, 
 they attempted to follow the general: but, after proceeding 
 a short distance, the animal fell, and Bolman was so much 
 injured, as scarcely to be able to rise. Huger, with much 
 difficulty, assisted him to the saddle, and conjuring him to 
 fly, sought to secure his own safety on foot. 
 
188 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 During all this time, the sentinels on the walls had seen 
 the rescue, and bodies of cavalry were already in eager 
 chase. Huger was soon taken; but Bolman, pretending to 
 be in pursuit, was suffered to escape unsuspected. Lafay- 
 ette had distanced the cavalry, and was gaining on them 
 every moment, when he came to a place where the roads 
 forked. Unfortunately he took the wrong one, and he was 
 directed still further from the proper course, by a peasant, 
 who, suspecting him to be a fugitive, gave him a wrong di- 
 rection. He too, was thus, in a short time recaptured, and 
 taken before a neighbouring magistrate. Here his answers 
 were so straight forward and ready, and his haste so plausi- 
 bly accounted for, that he was on the point of being dis- 
 charged, when the entrance of a young man, who knew his 
 person, caused the magistrate to send him back, under a 
 strong guard, to Olmutz. Two days afterwards, Bolman, 
 who had escaped into Prussian Silesia, was also retaken. 
 
 On his arrival at the fortress, under a strong guard, Huger 
 had been committed to prison, and on the third day of his 
 confinement, was brought in chains, to undergo an examin- 
 ation before the chief civil and military officers of Olmutz. 
 Here the courage of the young enthusiast never for a mo- 
 ment forsook him. He boldly declared his intentions, and 
 regretted their disappointment; nor did the threat of death 
 appear in any degree to alarm him. Moved at last by his 
 manly and spirited behaviour, count Archo, the military 
 officer, declared, "I judge of others by my own feelings. 
 The attempt to injure me, by rescuing my prisoner, I freely 
 forgive ; and if ever I shall need a friend, I wish that friend 
 may be an American." 
 
 The attempt, so nearly successful, having thus failed, 
 Huger remained for a long time, in rigorous confinement. 
 The buoyancy of youth, however, was his support; and the 
 pains of the present, were forgotten in his anticipation of 
 the hour of liberty. This at last arrived ; and he returned 
 to his native land, to exert in her cause the same bold 
 energy, which had marked the enterprize of Olmutz. 
 
 Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, 
 Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye ! 
 
 Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, 
 Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. 
 
PATRIOTISM. 189 
 
 Nature I'll court in her sequester'd haunts, 
 
 By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell, 
 Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chaunts, 
 
 And Health, and Peace, and Contemplation dwell. 
 There, Study shall with Solitude recline; 
 
 And Friendship pledge me to his fellow-swains ; 
 And Toil and Temperance sedately twine 
 
 The slender cord that fluttering Life sustains ; 
 And fearless Poverty shall guard the door ; 
 
 And Taste, unspoil'd, the frugal table spread; 
 And Industry supply the humble store ; 
 
 And Sleep, unbrib'd, his dews refreshing shed : 
 White-mantled Innocence, ethereal sprite, 
 
 Shall chase far off the goblins of the night; 
 And Independence o'er the day preside, 
 
 Propitious power! n*y patron and my pride. 
 
 Smollet. 
 
 It ought to be the happiness and glory of a representa- 
 tive, to live in the strictest union, the closest correspon- 
 dence, and the most unreserved communication, with his 
 constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight 
 with him ; their opinion high respect ; their business unre- 
 mitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his 
 pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs, and above all, ever, 
 and in all cases, to prefer their interests to his own. But, 
 his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlighten- 
 ed conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, 
 or to any set of men living. These he does not derive 
 from your pleasure ; no, nor from the law and the constitu- 
 tion. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of 
 which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes 
 you not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, 
 instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion. 
 Burke to the electors of Bristol. 
 
 Civil freedom is not, as many have endeavoured to per- 
 suade us, a thing that lies hid in the depth of abtruse sci- 
 ence. It is a blessing and a benefit, not an abstract specu- 
 lation ; and all the just reasoning that can be upon it, is of 
 so coarse a texture, as perfectly to suit the ordinary capaci- 
 ties of those who are to enjoy, and of those who are to de- 
 fend it. Far from any resemblance to those propositions in 
 geometry and metaphysics, which admit no medium, but 
 
190 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 must be true x>r false in all their latitude, social and civil 
 freedom, like all other things in common life, are variously 
 mixed and modified, enjoyed in very different degrees, and 
 shaped into an infinite diversity of forms, according to the 
 temper and circumstances of every community. The ex- 
 treme of liberty (which is its abstract perfection, but its real 
 fault) obtains no where, nor ought to obtain any where. 
 Because extremes, as we all know, in every point which re- 
 lates either to our duties or satisfactions in life, are destruc- 
 tive both to virtue and enjoyment. Liberty too must be 
 limited in order to be possessed. The degree of constraint 
 it is impossible in any case to settle precisely. But it 
 ought to be the constant aim of every wise public council, 
 to find out by cautious experiments, and rational, cool en- 
 deavours, with how little, not how much of this restraint, 
 the community can subsist. ■_ Burke. 
 
 In contrast with the character of the Patriot, as described 
 in the preceding anecdotes, we add the following: — 
 
 A rebel is a voluntary bandit, a civil renegade,, that re- 
 nounces his obedience to his prince (or country) to raise 
 himself upon the public ruin. He is of great antiquity, 
 perhaps before the creation, at least a pre- Adamite, for Lu- 
 cifer was the first of his family, and from him he derives 
 himself in an indirect line. He finds fault with the govern- 
 ment, that he may get it the easier into his own hands, as 
 men are apt to undervalue what they wish to purchase. He 
 is a butcher in politics, and a state tinker, that makes flaws 
 in the government only to mend them again. He goes for 
 a public spirited man, and his pretences are for the public 
 good, that is, for the good of his own public spirit. He 
 pretends to be a great lover of his country, as if it had given 
 him love powder; but it is merely out of natural affection to 
 himself. He has a great itch to be handling authority, 
 though he may cut his fingers by it ; and is resolved to raise 
 himself, though it be but upon the gallows. He is all for 
 peace and truth, but not without lying and fighting. He 
 plays a game with the hangman for the clothes on his back, 
 and when het hrows out, he strips him to the skin. He 
 dies in hempen sheets, and his body is hung, like his an- 
 cestor, Mahomet's, in the air. He might have lived longer, 
 if the destinies had not spun his thread of life too strong. 
 He is sure never to come to an untimely end; for by the 
 
PATIENCE AND MODERATION. 191 
 
 course of law his time was out long before. He calls rebel- 
 lion and treason laying out of himself for the public; but 
 being found to be false unlawful coin, he was seized upon 
 and cut in pieces, and hanged for falsifying himself. His 
 espousing of quarrels proves as fatal to his country as the 
 Palermo wedding was to France. He is like a bell that 
 was made on purpose to be hanged. He is a diseased part 
 of the body politic, to which all the bad humours gather. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 PATIENCE AND MODERATION. 
 
 Heav'nborn patience! source of peace andrest, 
 Descend ; infuse thy spirit thro' my breast, 
 That I may calmly meet the hour of fate, 
 My foes forgive, and triumph o'er their hate. 
 This body let their engines tear and grind : 
 But let not all their racks subdue my mind. Mallet. 
 
 Every man knows how to row in a calm ; and an indiffer- 
 ent pilot will serve to direct the course of a ship when the 
 season is quiet and serene : but the ability of that helms- 
 man is the greatest, who knows how to steer his vessel 
 aright, when the wind and waves seemed struggling to de- 
 stroy him. In like manner it is a small commendation to 
 appear mild, when nothing is said or done to displease us ; 
 but to suppress our rising passions, and to keep down our 
 resentments, is a victory greater and more deserving of 
 praise than perhaps the greatest conquerors ever merited. 
 
 Anger is the most impotent passion that accompanies the 
 mind of man : it effects nothing it goes about ; and hurts 
 the man who is possessed by it, more than any other against 
 whom it is directed. Clarendon. 
 
 Cowper, bishop of Lincoln, had been eight years in pre- 
 paring manuscripts of a dictionary, which it was his inten- 
 tion to publish, and had almost completed his labours. His 
 wife, who had watched her husband's incessant labour, for 
 
192 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 so long a time, with great anxiety for his health, which she 
 was afraid would suffer by such close application, determin- 
 ed, as she thought, to put a stop to his studies. She watch- 
 ed her opportunity, therefore; and when Cowper was absent 
 from home, she seized the precious manuscripts, and com- 
 mitted them to the flames, with no more scruple than was 
 felt by the curate and housekeeper of Don Quixote, when 
 they committed to the flames the books of knight errantry, 
 which had been the cause .of Don Quixote's madness. 
 When the bishop came home, and found what mischief had 
 been done, he restrained his feelings, and without giving his 
 wife an unkind word, recommenced his labours, and at the 
 end of eight years more, finally completed his dictionary. 
 
 The patient mule that travels day and night, will, in the 
 end, go further than the Arabian courser. 
 
 Persian Researches. 
 
 There was an American gentleman, who had undertaken 
 to make an index to a very voluminous periodical publica- 
 tion, and after hard labour for six months, he finally suc- 
 ceeded in completing a rough draft of it. This he now 
 began to copy, and in so doing, made many improvements 
 and corrections. It was late in the evening of a winter's 
 day, that he finished the last page of his work. He placed 
 the two piles of manuscript side by side, and prepared to 
 leave the house, to deliver the corrected one to his em- 
 ployer. " Before I start," said he to himself, "I may as 
 well burn the old draft, as the new one will be soon multi- 
 plied in print sufficiently for my use;" — and he accordingly 
 added the pile of manuscript to the already blazing fire. In 
 a few moments it was entirely consumed. Something now 
 led him to look at the index ; when he found that he had 
 burnt the copy, instead of the original. He gave one long 
 interjectional sigh, which was the only remark ever made 
 by him on the subject; and the next five months found him 
 deeply immersed in study, reproducing the index he had 
 destroyed. 
 
 Some men of established reputation, may do those things, 
 which could not be attempted by others, without inducing, 
 among the illiberal, a suspicion of their motives. Few men 
 were braver than Sir Walter Raleigh, of celebrated memo* 
 
PATIENCE AND MODERATION. 193 
 
 ry. Accident led him one day to dispute with a young 
 gentleman, whose expressions were so offensive, that they 
 amounted to a direct insult. Still Sir Walter Raleigh kept 
 his temper, which provoked his hot-headed antagonist so 
 much, that he challenged him upon the spot. Raleigh re- 
 fused to fight; whereupon the other spit in his face. The 
 matter was now thought, by those around, to have proceeded 
 to such extremity, that blood must be the consequence. 
 Raleigh, however, very calmly took his handkerchief from 
 his pocket, and spoke thus: "Young man, if I could as 
 easily wipe your blood from my conscience, as I can this 
 injury from my face, I would this moment take away your 
 life." Overpowered by the conduct of the man he had in- 
 sulted, the aggressor fell at his feet, and begged forgiveness. 
 
 Angry and choleric men are as ungrateful and unsociable 
 as thunder and lightning, being in themselves all storm and 
 tempests; but quiet and easy natures are like fair weather, 
 welcome to all, and acceptable to all men ; they gather to- 
 gether what the others disperse, and reconcile all whom the 
 others incense : as they have the good will and the good 
 wishes of all other men, so they have the full possession of 
 themselves, have all their own thoughts at peace, and enjoy 
 quiet and ease in their own fortunes, how strait soever; 
 whereas the others neither love, nor are beloved, and make 
 war the more faintly upon others, because they have no 
 peace within themselves ; and though they are very ill com- 
 pany to everybody else, they are worst of all to themselves, 
 which is a punishment that nature hath provided for those 
 who delight in being vexatious and uneasy to others. 
 
 Clarendon. 
 
 He who loses the command of his temper, and indulges 
 in the intemperate display of passion, degrades himself be- 
 low the level of his fellow men, and puts himself on an 
 equality with the brute creation. Reason, the distinctive 
 attribute of man, is then overpowered, and mere animal 
 instinct is the only guide which is followed. No remark 
 could be more true than that of the man, who one day see- 
 ing another in a great rage, beating his slave, exclaimed, 
 "There is one slave beating another." 
 
194 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 There is a jewel which no Indian mine can buy r 
 .No chemic art can counterfeit ; 
 It makes men rich in greatest poverty, 
 Makes water wine, turns wooded cups to gold, 
 The homely whistle to sweet music's strain ; 
 Seldom it comes, to few from Heaven sent, 
 That much in little— all in nought — Content. 
 
 Wilbye's Madrigals, 1598. 
 
 If what we suffer has been brought on us by ourselves, it 
 is observed by an ancient poet, that patience is eminently 
 our duty, since no one ought to be angry at feeling that 
 which he has deserved. If we are conscious that we have 
 not contributed to our own sufferings, if punishment falls 
 upon innocence, or disappointment happens to industry 
 and prudence, patience, whether more necessary or not, is 
 much easier, since our pain is then without aggravation, and 
 we have not the bitterness of remorse to add to the asperity 
 of misfortune. Rambler. 
 
 Among the philosophers of old, we often heard mention- 
 ed Epictetus, the stoic. The philosophy of Epictetus was 
 comprised in two very admirable rules, when it is possible 
 to put them in practice. "To suffer evils with patience," 
 was the first; and the second was, "To enjoy pleasures 
 with moderation." He, together with other members of 
 the same sect, carried these rules into perfect practice, even 
 at the expense, sometimes, of the sacrifice of some of the 
 finest feelings of our nature. Epictetus was for some time 
 a slave, and belonged to Epaphroditus, one of Nero's life 
 guards. One day his master was squeezing his leg, in 
 order to torment him. "You will break my leg," said the 
 slave, calmly, and without manifesting the appearance of 
 pain. A moment after, the leg was broken by Epaphrodi- 
 tus. "Did I not tell you that you would break my leg," 
 said Epictetus smiling. 
 
 The highest point outward things can bring us to, is the 
 Gontentment of the mind ; with which no estate can be 
 poor ; without which all estates will be miserable. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney. 
 
PATIENCE AND MODERATION. 195 
 
 Chancellor Syllery had given a legal decision against a 
 woman, in a suit which she had before him, which seemed 
 to her unjust and improper. She therefore rushed into his 
 presence, while he was seated in court, and began to abuse 
 him in the most outrageous manner. She had been follow- 
 ed by one, who appeared to be her husband, and chancellor 
 Syllery turning to him, asked him, if the woman was his 
 wife. He said that she was. "I am very sorry for you," 
 said the chancellor, "take her home again." This was his 
 only remark. Others, in his stead, would have exercised 
 their full power to punish. 
 
 He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper; but 
 he is more excellent who can suit his temper to any cir- 
 cumstances. Hume, 
 
 The virtues of patience and resignation in cases of suf- 
 fering and misfortune, were perhaps never more nobly ex- 
 hibited than in the war of the American revolution. With- 
 out the comforts of life, and often without its most common 
 necessaries, the republican army, from the highest general 
 to the common soldier, continued to battle, with unabated 
 vigour, in the cause of their country. In winter the course 
 of the American infantry, was often known by the tracks 
 of blood upon the frozen ground. The soldiers have 
 avoided parade, and remained in their wretched huts, rather 
 than exhibit their very nakedness. Officers without num- 
 ber are known to have done the same. Yet these men, at 
 the sound of the drum, announcing the presence of the 
 enemy, flew to arms with patriotic enthusiasm, stood un- 
 moved in the thickest fires, which absolute want of ammu- 
 nition prevented them from returning, or charged at the 
 point of the bayonet, with the steady courage of veteran 
 troops. It was of these men, that de Kalb wrote to the 
 chevalier de la Luzerne. "You may judge of the virtues 
 of our small army, from the following fact, — we have for 
 several days lived upon nothing but peaches, and I have 
 heard no complaint, and there has been no desertion." 
 
 Of a character similar to the above is the following:— 
 The constant temptation held out to the republican sol- 
 diers of the revolution, to desert, in the shape of offers of 
 pardon, and pecuniary reward from the British, had but 
 
196 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 little effect; and when we consider the wretched condition 
 of the American army, without clothing, food, or even am- 
 munition, at times, our admiration for the patient resigna- 
 tion, which sustained the sufferers, is, if possible, increas- 
 ed. During the hard and severe winter campaign in North 
 Carolina, general Greene passed a centinel on post, who 
 was without shoes. "I fear my good fellow," he said, "that 
 you suffer from the cold. 5 ' "Pretty much so," was the 
 reply; "but I do not complain; because I know that I 
 should fare better, had our general the means of procuring 
 supplies. They say, however, that in a few days we shall 
 have a fight, and it will be hard indeed, if I do not then 
 procure myself a pair of shoes." 
 
 There are three modes of bearing the ills of life : by in- 
 difference, which is the most common ; by philosophy, 
 which is the most ostentatious ; and by religion, which is 
 the most effectual. It has been acutely said, "That philo- 
 sophy readily triumphs over past or future evils, but that 
 present evils triumph over philosophy." Philosophy is a 
 goddess, whose head indeed is in heaven, but whose feet 
 are upon earth: she- attempts more than she accomplishes, 
 and promises more than she performs ; she can teach us to 
 hear of the calamities of others with magnanimity ; but it is 
 religion only, that can teach us to bear our own with resig- 
 nation. Lacon. 
 
 Every man is rich or poor, according to the proportion 
 between his desires and enjoyments. Of riches, as of 
 every thing else, the hope is more than the enjoyment: 
 while we consider them as the means, to be used at some 
 future time for the attainment of felicity, ardour after them 
 secures us from weariness of ourselves : but no sooner do 
 we sit down to enjoy our acquisitions, than we find them 
 insufficient to fill up the vacancies of life. Nature makes us 
 poor, only when we want necessaries; but custom gives the 
 name of poverty to the want of superfluities. It is a great 
 privilege of poverty, to be healthy without physic, secure 
 without a guard, and to obtain from the bounty of nature, 
 what the great and wealthy are compelled to procure by the 
 help of art. Adversity has ever been considered as the 
 state in which a man most easily becomes acquainted with 
 himself, as he is then most free from flatterers. Prosperity 
 
PATIENCE AND MODERATION. 197 
 
 is too apt to prevent us from examining our conduct ; but 
 as adversity leads us to think properly of our state, it is 
 most beneficial to us. Johnson. 
 
 Unaw'jd by threats, unmov'd by force, 
 My steady soul pursues her course, 
 
 Collected, calm, resign'd ; 
 Say, you who search with curious eyes 
 The source, whence human actions rise, 
 
 Say, whence this turn of mind? 
 
 'Tis Patience — lenient goddess, hail ! 
 let thy votary's vows prevail, 
 
 Thy threaten'd flight to stay! 
 Long hast thou been a welcome guest, 
 Long reign'd an inmate in this breast, 
 
 And ruled with gentle sway. 
 
 Through all the various turns of fate, 
 Ordain'd me in each several state 
 
 My wayward lot has known, 
 What taught me silently to bear, 
 To curb the sigh, to check the tear, 
 
 When sOrrow weigh'd me down? 
 
 'Twas Patience. Temperate goddess, stay ! 
 For still thy dictates I obey, 
 
 Nor yield to passion's power; 
 Though by injurious foes borne down, 
 My fame, my toil, my hopes o'erthrown, 
 
 In one ill-fated hour. 
 
 When, robb'd of what I held most dear, 
 My hands adorn'd the mournful bier 
 
 Of her I lov'd so well; 
 What, when mute sorrow chain'd my tongue, 
 As o'er the sable hearse I hung, 
 
 Forbade the tide to swell ? 
 
 'Twas Patience ! — goddess ever calm 1 
 Oh pour into my breast thy balm, 
 
 That antidote to pain ; 
 Which, flowing from thy nectar'd urn, 
 By chemistry divine can turn 
 
 Our losses into gain. 
 
198 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 When sick and languishing in bed 
 Sleep from my restless couch had fled, 
 
 (Sleep which e'en pain beguiles) 
 What taught me calmly to sustain 
 A feverish being rack'd with pain, 
 
 And dress'd my looks with smiles ? 
 
 'Twas Patience! — Heav'n-descended maid, 
 Implor'd, flew swiftly to my aid, 
 
 And lent her fostering breast ; 
 Watch'd my sad hours with parent care, 
 Repell'd th' approaches of despair, 
 
 And sooth'd my soulto rest. 
 
 Say, when dissever'd from his side, 
 My friend, protector, and my guide — 
 
 When my prophetic soul, 
 Anticipating all the storm, 
 Saw danger in its direst form, 
 
 What could my fears controul? 
 
 'Twas Patience. Gentle goddess, hear! 
 Be ever to thy suppliant near, 
 
 Nor let one murmur rise ; 
 Since still some mighty joys are given, 
 Dear to her soul the gifts cf Heaven, 
 
 The sweet domestic ties. Frances Sheridan. 
 
 POLITENESS. 
 
 Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different 
 nations with impartiality, we should find no people so rude 
 as to be without any rules of politeness, nor any so polite 
 as not to have some remains of rudeness. Franklin. 
 
 He that would please in company must be attentive to 
 what stile is most proper. The scholastic should seldom 
 be used, and then only by judicious aged persons, or those 
 who are eminent for piety or wisdom. No style is more 
 extensively acceptable than the narrative, because this does 
 
POLITENESS. 199 
 
 not carry an air of superiority over the rest of the compa- 
 ny, and therefore is most likely to please them. For this 
 purpose, we should store our memory with short anecdotes, 
 and entertaining pieces of history. Almost every one listens 
 with eagerness to extemporaneous history. Variety often co- 
 operates with curiosity; for he that is a hearer in one place, 
 wishes to qualify himself to be a principal speaker in some 
 inferior company; and therefore more attention is given to 
 narrations than any thing else in conversation. It is true, 
 indeed, that sallies of wit, and quick replies, are very pleas- 
 ing in conversation ; but they frequently tend to raise envy 
 in some of the company. But the narrative way neither 
 raises this nor any other evil passion; but keeps all the 
 company nearly upon an ...equality, and, if judiciously man- 
 aged, will at once entertain and improve them all. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 Compliments of congratulation are always kindly taken, 
 and cost one nothing but pen, ink and paper. I consider 
 them as draufts on good breeding, where the exchange is 
 greatly in favour of the drawer. Chesterfield. 
 
 Those who quit their proper character to assume what 
 does not belong to them, are for the greater part, ignorant 
 both of the character they leave, and of the character they 
 assume. Burke. 
 
 A person of good address who conducts himself with due 
 circumspection, conciliates the love and esteem of society, 
 because every one finds himself easy in his company; but 
 a ceremonious man is the plague of all his acquaintance. 
 
 The following instance of politeness has been related of 
 several persons, but belongs, we believe, to those who are 
 now namcj. The reputation of Lord Stair as a polite man, 
 was great through the courts of Europe ; and Louis XIV., 
 hearing of his reputation, determined to put him to the test. 
 He accordingly asked Lord Stair to take an airing with him, 
 and as soon as the coach door was open, the king, who 
 had preceded the nobleman to it, turned to him, and mo- 
 tioned him to enter first. Lord Stair bowed, and obeyed. 
 "The world is right," said Louis to a courtier near him; 
 11 another man would have troubled me with ceremony." 
 
200 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 The true art of being agreeable, is to appear well pleased 
 with all the company, and rather to seem well entertained 
 by them, than with being entertainment to them. A man 
 thus disposed, perhaps, may not have much learning nor 
 any wit; but if he has common sense, and something 
 friendly in his behaviour, it conciliates men's minds more 
 than the brightest parts, without this disposition : and when 
 a man of such a turn comes to old age, he is almost sure to 
 be treated with respect. It is true, indeed, that we should 
 not dissemble and flatter in company; but a man maybe 
 very agreeable, strictly consistent with truth and sincerity, 
 by a prudent silence, when he cannot concur, and a pleas- 
 ing assent when he can. Now and then you meet with a 
 person, so exactly formed to please., that he will gain upon 
 every one that hears or beholds him. This disposition is 
 not merely the gift of nature, but frequently the effect of 
 much knowledge of the world, and a command over the 
 passions. Spectator. 
 
 He who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, 
 coolly answers, and ceases when he has no more to say, is 
 in possession of some of the best requisites of man. 
 
 Lavater. 
 
 How often do we not see the greatest violation of polite* 
 ness, in the conduct of the master or mistress of a house, 
 at their own table, and before invited guests. A wine glass 
 broken — a dish misplaced, or any other trivial accident, 
 frequently causes the most unpleasant scenes; when the 
 host, forgetful of the guests, indulges in the expression of 
 his feelings of displeasure or mortification. Calmness, on 
 such occasions, is the true test of a well bred man or wo- 
 man. . The bishop of Worcester had a large party to dine 
 with him one day, when one of the company requested to 
 see a newly invented weather glass, which had cost the 
 bishop one hundred and fifty dollars. A servant was imme- 
 diately ordered to bring it, who, in handing it to his master, 
 accidentally let it fall, when it broke into a thousand pieces. 
 The gentleman who had asked for it, was much confused, 
 and began to apologize for having been the cause of the 
 accident. " Don't say a word, my dear sir;" interrupted the 
 bishop; "I consider the accident as a lucky omen, a sign 
 that we shall have fair weather; fori have never before Been 
 the glass so low. 
 
POLITENESS. 201 
 
 What's a fine person and a beauteous face, 
 Unless deportment gives them decent grace : 
 Blest with all other requisites to please, 
 Some want the striking elegance of ease : 
 The curious eye their awkward movement tires, 
 They seem like puppets led about by wires. 
 Others like statues in one posture still, 
 Give great ideas of the workman's skill; 
 Wondering his art we praise the more we view, 
 And only grieve he gave not motion too. Churchill. 
 
 All ceremonies are in themselves very silly things ; but 
 yet a man of the world should know them. They are the 
 out works of manners and decency, which would be too 
 often broken in upon, if it were not for that defence, which 
 keeps the enemy at a proper distance. 'Tis for that rea- 
 son, that I always treat fools and coxcombs with great cere- 
 mony; true good breeding not being a sufficient barrier 
 against them. Chesterfield. 
 
 The happy gift of being agreeable seems to consist, not 
 in one, but in an assemblage of talents, tending to commu- 
 nicate delight; and how many are there, who by easy man- 
 ners, sweetness of temper, and a variety of other undefina- 
 ble qualities, possess the power of pleasing, without any 
 visible effort — without the aids of wit, wisdom or learning, — 
 nay, as it should seem, in their defiance, — and this without 
 appearing to know that they possess it. Cumberland. 
 
 Few of our readers have not heard the story of the gover- 
 nor of Virginia, who was met, when walking in the streets 
 of Williamsburg, by a black man, a slave, who raised 
 his hat in token of respect, when the governor passed. 
 The other returned the salutation in the same manner, and 
 when a friend, who accompanied him, expressed some sur- 
 prise at his condescension, he answered, "I should be very 
 sorry to see myself surpassed in politeness by a slave." 
 
 Complaisance, though in itself it be scarce reckoned in 
 
 the number of moral virtues, is that which gives a lustre to 
 
 every talent a man can be possessed of. It was Plato's ad- 
 
 ■ ice to an unpolished writer, that he should sacrifice to the 
 
 18 
 
202 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 graces. In the same manner, I would advise every man of 
 learning, who would not appear in the world a mere scholar 
 or philosopher, to make himself master of the social virtue 
 which I have here mentioned. 
 
 Complaisance renders a superior amiable, an equal 
 agreeable, and an inferior acceptable. It smooths distinc- 
 tion, sweetens conversation, and makes every one in the 
 company pleased with himself. It produces good nature 
 and mutual benevolence, encourages the timorous, soothes 
 the turbulent, humanizes the fierce, and distinguishes the 
 society of civilized persons from a confusion of savages. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 Joan, queen of Naples, was so sensible, that a polish of 
 manners was a frequent apology, for even an abandoned 
 course of life, that by her condescension, persuasion and 
 politeness, she absolutely blinded the minds of her judges, 
 and at length induced them to pronounce her innocent. 
 
 It was the sweetness of Catharine's manners, more than 
 the charms of her person, that enslaved the heart of the 
 emperor Peter. The latter might attract his eye; but the 
 former secured his esteem, rooted his regard, and was the 
 means of exalting her to the throne of Russia. 
 
 Next to clothes being fine, they should be well made, and 
 worn easily : for a man is only less genteel for a fine coat, 
 if in wearing it, he shows a regard for it, and is not as easy 
 in it, as if it were a plain one. Chesterfield. 
 
 Common swearing, if it have any serious meaning at all, 
 argues in man, a perpetual distrust of his own reputation, 
 and is an acknowledgment that he thinks his bare word 
 not to be worthy of credit ; and it is so far from adorning 
 and filling a man's discourse, that it makes it look swollen 
 and bloated, and more blustering than become persons of 
 genteel and good breeding. Tillotson. 
 
 Immodest words admit of no defence ; 
 For want of decency is want of sense. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
PART III. 
 
 OUU DUTIES TO OimSELTES 
 
 PRUDENCE AND TEMPERANCE. 
 
 Cunning has only private selfish ends, and shrinks at 
 nothing which may make them succeed. Discretion has 
 large and extended views, and like a well formed eye, com- 
 mands a whole horizon. Cunning is a kind of short sight- 
 edness that discovers the minutest objects, which are near 
 at hand, but is not able to discern them at a distance. Dis- 
 cretion, the more it is discovered, gives a greater authority 
 to the person who possesses it. Cunning, when it is once 
 detected, loses its force, and makes a man incapable of 
 bringing about even those events which he might have 
 done, if he had passed only for a plain man. Discretion is 
 the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties 
 of life. Cunning is a kind of instinct that only looks out 
 after our immediate interest and welfare. Discretion is 
 only found in men of strong sense and good understand- 
 ing. Cunning is often to be met with in brutes themselves, 
 and in persons who are but the fewest removes from them. 
 In short, cunning is only, the mimic of discretion, and may 
 pass upon weak men in the same manner, as severity is 
 often mistaken for wit, and gravity for. wisdom. Addison. 
 
 Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no 
 other, and scarce in that ; for it is true we may give advice, 
 but we cannot give conduct. However, they that will not 
 be counselled, cannot be helped ; and if you will not hear 
 reason, she will surely rap your knuckles. Franklin. 
 
204 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 The great end of prudence, is to give cheerfulness to 
 those hours which splendour cannot gild, and acclama- 
 tion cannot exhilarate, — those soft intervals of unbended 
 amusement, in which a man shrinks to his natural dimen- 
 sions, and throws aside the ornaments or disguises, which 
 he feels in privacy to be useless incumbrances, and to lose 
 all effect when they become familiar. To be happy at 
 home, is the ultimate result of all ambition, the end to 
 which every enterprise and labour tends, and of which 
 every desire prompts the prosecution. It is indeed at 
 home, that every man must be known, by those who would 
 make a just estimate either of his virtue or felicity, for 
 smiles and embroidery are alike occasional, and the mind 
 is often dressed for show, in painted honour and factitious 
 benevolence. Johnson. 
 
 When I myself had twice or thrice made a resolute resis- 
 tance unto anger, the like befel me, that did the Thebans, 
 who having once foiled the Lacedemonians, who before 
 that time had held themselves invincible, never after lost so 
 much as one battle, which they fought against them. 
 
 Plutarch. 
 
 Democritus, a wealthy citizen of Athens, in the day of 
 her greatest pride, was inconsolable at the loss of his wife, 
 Aspasia, who died in giving birth to a son, who was called 
 Euphemion. For a long time, the grief of Democritus ap- 
 peared so violent, as to admit of no consolation. At last, 
 however, the energy of the man overcame the excessive 
 sorrow, in which he had indulged; and, while a tender recol- 
 lection of the departed Aspasia was ever present to his 
 mind, he, nevertheless, devoted himself, with unremitting 
 attention, to the education and moral improvement of his 
 son Euphemion. The boy grew rapidly towards manhood, 
 with all the promise of future excellence, which his father 
 could desire. There was one point in his character, how- 
 ever, which Democritus remarked with considerable anxiety, 
 and which he was a long time in finding a plan for altering, 
 with any hope' of success. It was a headlong and ardent 
 temperament, from which the best or the worst consequen- 
 ces might flow, as the impulses of Euphemion's mind hap- 
 pened to be good or bad ; and he would often, as the child 
 sat playing upon his knee, mix an anxious tear with the 
 
PRUDENCE AND TEMPERANCE. 205 
 
 smiles of paternal pleasure. His plan was fixed upon, 
 however, and he, was not long in adopting it. 
 
 Democritus and Euphemion were one day walking 
 through a gallery of paintings, when both, by mutual im- 
 pulse, stopped at the same moment by a picture of no com- 
 mon merit. It represented a youth on his knees, before a 
 female of the most exquisite beauty, who was embracing 
 him with the greatest apparent affection. After contem- 
 plating the picture for some time, Euphemion exclaim- 
 ed, "I can fancy I see the workings of pleasure, in the 
 countenance of the young man, give a new character to his 
 animated eye at every moment. And well may it be so, 
 when the fairest and loveliest of the creation is before him, — 
 the cause of his rapture. Who would not be enraptured, 
 with such perfection of beauty, with the master piece of 
 Heaven, in his possession." Democritus waited until his 
 son had done speaking, and then answered, "You speak, 
 Euphemion, as if you envied the youth represented by the 
 painter, and you speak with too much warmth of that, 
 which you can so easily obtain." "Easily obtain," repeat- 
 ed the son; " tell me but how, and you will make your son 
 the happiest of men." Democritus paused. "I would 
 tell you," he at length continued, "did I not fear that your 
 natural impetuosity of temper, would prevent your following 
 the only course, which can conduct you to so great a felici- 
 ty." Euphemion persisted in his questions, and promised to 
 controul his feelings, even to the risk of their extinction. 
 His father then began by premising, that the story told by 
 the picture was the groundwork of mysteries, solemn in 
 themselves, and the disclosing of whose secrets, was pun- 
 ished in the severest manner, even to the death of the im- 
 pudent offender. " The story, which is never told to any 
 but those who are determined to follow the great example, 
 is this : — The young man you see here, was a native of Cy- 
 prus, who fell desperately in love with an ideal beauty, the 
 offspring of his own feverish imagination. As he was seat- 
 ed one day by the margin of a fountain, sighing for the pos- 
 session of the visionary object of his desires, he fell asleep, 
 and dreamed that Diana descended to him from a cloud, 
 and promised him the actual enjoyment of his wishes, pro- 
 vided that he returned immediately to Ephesus, and during 
 the space of four years, lived in chastity, and applied him- 
 self to the cultivation of his mind, according to the precepts 
 of philosophy. The vision seemed so nattering to the 
 18* 
 
206 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 young lover, that he complied with the celestial admoni- 
 tion, and banishing from his thoughts, as soon as possible, 
 all voluptuous and improper designs, he repaired to the 
 place, whither the goddess had commanded him to go. At 
 the end of four years, when he had faithfully completed the 
 probation, he was transported back again in his sleep, to 
 the fountain, where he first saw the Deity, and awaking sud- 
 denly, found, to his no small surprise, that beautiful virgin, 
 the reward of his labours, embracing him in the manner de- 
 scribed by the artist. This, my son, afterwards became a 
 religious mystery, and is (since you are now acquainted 
 with the rise of it,) a test which you must inevitably under- 
 go. Divest yourself, therefore, for a while, of all the affec- 
 tions, which you have hitherto conceived, and vie with the 
 resolute Cyprian, that you may partake of his bliss." 
 
 Euphemion listened attentively to the words of his father, 
 and at first made some demur to the strictness of what was 
 required of him. His father was imperative, however, und 
 Euphemion, recollecting that after all, it would be only re- 
 straining his wishes now, to give more free scope to them 
 hereafter, consented to pursue the course marked out. He 
 accordingly repaired forthwith to Ephesus, and commenced 
 his probation. The first year was passed in violent strug- 
 gles between reason and passion, in which the former, how- 
 ever, was victorious. The second made his solitary life, 
 somewhat more agreeable : the third afforded real pleasure 
 in the pursuit, exclusive of the object pursued ; and the 
 fourth completed the happy delusion, by rendering him, by 
 habitual study, completely master of himself. By this time, 
 the violence of earlier feelings had subsided, and he had 
 ceased to view, as the first object of happiness, the posses- 
 sion of the perfect beauty of the picture. He now return- 
 ed home, and for some days said nothing to his father of 
 the reward, which had been promised him. Something oc- 
 curring, however, to remind him of the picture, he asked 
 his father in a jocular manner, what was become of the fair 
 maiden who was to have met him. Democritus replied; 
 u My son, the account I gave you of the Cyprian, as you 
 seem already to understand, was entirely fabulous, and the 
 picture is only an agreeable allegory. I used this device to 
 lead you imperceptibly into the paths of true pleasure; and 
 to make your life an explanation of the two figures, placed 
 by the artist upon the canvass. The one I supposed to be 
 Happiness, the daughter of Virtue and Moderation ; the 
 
INTEMPERANCE. 207 
 
 other, the emblem of a man courting her embrace, whom 
 she never fails to caress with a mutual affection, when he 
 is conducted to her by her celestial parents. You expected 
 only a fugitive pleasure, as the reward of your perseve- 
 rance ; but are now in possession of a permanent one, that 
 will attend you through life with unchanging fidelity." 
 
 To excel others, is a proof of talent ; but to know when 
 to conceal that superiority, is a greater proof of prudence. 
 The celebrated orator, Domitius Afer, when attacked in a 
 speech by Caligula, made no reply, affecting to be entirely 
 overcome by the resistless eloquence of the tyrant. Had 
 he replied, he would certainly have conquered, and as cer- 
 tainly have died. But he wisely preferred a defeat which 
 saved his life, to a victory that would have cost it. Lacon. 
 
 When a man's desires are boundless, his labour is end- 
 less; they will set him a task he can never go through; and 
 cut him out work he can never finish. The satisfaction 
 which he seeks is always absent; and the happiness which 
 he aims at, ever at a distance : he has perpetually many things 
 to do, and many things to provide, and that which is want- 
 ing cannot be numbered. Balguy. 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 Oh that men should put an enemy into 
 Their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we 
 Should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, 
 Transform ourselves to beasts ! Shakspeare. 
 
 It were better for a man to be subject to any vice than to 
 drunkenness; for all other vanities and sins are recovered: 
 but a drunkard will never shake off the delight of beastli- 
 ness; for the longer it possesses the man, the more he will 
 delight in it, and the elder he groweth, the more he shall be 
 subject to it ; for it dulleth the spirits and destroys the body, 
 as ivy doth the old tree, or as the worm that engendereth 
 in the kernel of a nut. Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
£08 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Alexander the Great was at times addicted to the shame- 
 ful practice of intemperance : and when drunk would com- 
 mit the most disgraceful acts. He at one time, offered a 
 crown of gold, worth one thousand dollars, to the man who 
 would drink the most wine, and gave an entertainment to 
 test the candidates. A man drank ten quarts, won the 
 crown, and died in three days afterwards. 
 
 At one of Alexander's entertainments, Clitus, an old 
 man and a faithful soldier, and who was, on the following 
 day, to have departed for a government, to which he had 
 been appointed, became very much intoxicated, and in that 
 condition, began to compare the deeds of Philip, Alexan- 
 der's father, with those of his son, giving all the preference 
 to the former. Alexander was any thing but sober himself, 
 and was enraged at the manner of Clitus, who appeared to 
 insult him intentionally. He restrained himself, however, 
 until Clitus exclaimed, when ordered by Alexander to leave 
 the table, "He is right, not to bear free-born men at his 
 table, who can only tell him truth. He will do well to pass 
 his life among barbarians and slaves, who will pay adoration 
 to his Persian girdle and white robe." Alexander, now no 
 longer able to suppress his rage, snatched a javelin from 
 the hand of a soldier, who stood by, and would have thrown 
 it at Clitus, had he not been prevented by those around, 
 who arrested his purpose, and hurried Clitus, by main vio- 
 lence, from the place. Matters were scarcely restored to 
 quiet, when Clitus made his appearance at another door, 
 singing a song, most insulting to the king, and before he 
 could be prevented, Alexander laid him dead at his feet. 
 This frantic act seemed to restore Alexander to his senses; 
 he became capable of reflection, and throwing himself on 
 the body of his friend, lamented in the most passionate 
 manner, the act which he had been guilty of. He tore the 
 javelin from the wound, and had he not been prevented by 
 his guards, would have made use of it to put a period to 
 his own existence. From this story it would seem, that 
 antiquity even, was not without sad examples of the effects 
 of drunkenness. 
 
 Those men who destroy a healthful constitution of body 
 by intemperance, and an irregular life, do as manifestly kill 
 themselves, as those who hang, or poison, or drown them- 
 selves. Sherlock. 
 
( 209 ) 
 
 FILIAL PIETY. 
 
 But first and ever nearest to my heart 
 Was this prime duty; so to frame my conduct 
 Tow'rd such a father, as, were I a father, 
 My soul would wish to meet with from a son. 
 
 Mallet's Mustapha. 
 
 The time arrived when the emperor Decimus, wishing to 
 resign the throne in favour of his son Decius, bade him pre- 
 pare for the ceremony of coronation. This, however, the 
 young prince positively refused. "I am afraid," said he, 
 "lest being made an emperor, I should forget that I am a 
 son. I had rather be no emperor and a dutiful son, than an 
 emperor and such a son as hath forsaken his due obedience. 
 Let then my father bear the rule, and le-t this only be my 
 empire, to obey with all humility, and to obey whatsoever 
 he shall command me." The solemnity of the coronation 
 was accordingly waved; and Decius declared he found 
 the approbation of his own conscience more valuable than 
 the possession of an empire. 
 
 Boleslas, king of Poland, when about to commence any 
 work of importance, or to do any act which required con- 
 sideration, always addressed himself to a portrait of his 
 father, which hung suspended round his neck, saying, "My 
 dear father, may I do nothing remissly or unworthy of thy 
 name!" 
 
 Behave in the same way to your parents, as you would 
 have your children behave towards you. Confucius. 
 
 During an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, Pliny, the 
 younger, was at Messina with his family. All the inhabit- 
 ants, alarmed at the dreadful sounds, the trembling of the 
 earth, the lava running from the burning mountain, and the 
 clouds of ashes which obscured the air, took to flight, and 
 many of them urged Pliny to accompany them out of the 
 reach of danger. Had he done so, his mother, an aged 
 
210 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 and decrepid woman, would have been left to perish unpro- 
 tected; and Pliny, returning to his house, sought to rescue 
 her from destruction. In vain did she represent, that she 
 already stood upon the brink of the grave, that she would 
 but impede his flight by her weakness, that a few days of 
 existence were as nothing to her, who had already lived so 
 long, when compared to the safety of one, who lived for 
 others as well as for himself; in vain did she use every argu- 
 ment to induce him to fly alone, he was inexorable, and 
 they finally commenced their way through the gloom, the 
 son bearing his mother on his arm. They were almost the 
 last of the fugitives. The ashes and stones from the moun- 
 tain, fell thickly around them, and every step they took was 
 in anticipation of being plunged into some yawning chasm. 
 But the filial piety of the son, received a noble reward. 
 Pliny and his mother were saved unhurt; and she was pre- 
 served to a son, to whom she was more precious than life, 
 and he, who had preserved her, remained alive to protect 
 her, and to furnish a model of imitation to her other chil- 
 dren. 
 
 One of the pupils of the military school at Paris, was ob- 
 served by his instructor, to eat nothing but soup and bread 
 and water, at his meals. This was at first supposed to pro- 
 ceed from a desire to inflict a penance on himself, for some 
 infraction of religious observances, and he was reproved at 
 last, for carrying his devotion to too great an excess. "Still, 
 however, he continued his abstinence, without assigning 
 any reason, until the principal was informed of his conduct, 
 and summoning the boy before him, threatened him with 
 expulsion, unless he desisted from the course which he was 
 pursuing. Then it was, that bursting into tears, the young 
 soldier gave the following affecting explanation of his con- 
 duct. "At home," he said, "my parents and my brothers 
 and sisters eat black bread, and have scarcely enough of 
 that to sustain life. Here, indeed, I have every delicacy; 
 but can I enjoy them, while those most dear to me are starv- 
 ing? The sight even of the provisions, which are set before 
 me, brings my home so strongly to my mind, that I could 
 not, even if I wished to, eat." " Your father has served in 
 the army," replied the principal, affected to tears by the 
 story of the boy, "and has he not received a pension?" 
 "No," answered the other; "he has expended his last re- 
 sources in the hope of obtaining one, and now finds him- 
 
FILIAL PIETY. 211 
 
 self disappointed, from the want of friends to urge his 
 claims." " He shall not want them long," was the reply. 
 " In the mean while, here are three louisd'ors for your own 
 pocket money — I am certain that your father will receive a 
 pension, and I will advance the first payment of it." "If" 
 said the boy, " you can insure the pension, and advance the 
 money, let me add to it these louisd'ors, which will be 
 better spent in the support of my brothers and sisters, than 
 in my own pleasures." It need scarcely be added, that the 
 filial piety of the child was rewarded by the pension to his 
 father. 
 
 Filial obedience is the first and greatest requisite of a 
 state. By this we become good subjects to our country, 
 capable of behaving with just subordination to our superi- 
 ors, and grateful dependants on heaven. By this we be- 
 come fonder of marriage, in order to be capable of exact- 
 ing obedience from others, in our turn. By this we become 
 good magistrates: for early submission is the truest lesson 
 to those who would learn to rule. By this the whole state 
 may be said to resemble one family, of which the chief is 
 the protector, father and friend. Goldsmith. 
 
 A Roman woman was accused of a crime before the 
 praetor ; was tried, condemned to death, and delivered 
 over to the goaler of the prison, with orders to inflict the 
 sentence of punishment. This man was kind in his feel- 
 ings, and being unwilling to shed blood, he determined to 
 let the woman starve to death, in preference to destroying 
 her by violent means. He therefore confined her closely 
 to her cell, and admitted no one to see her, except her 
 daughter, whom he first carefully examined, to ascertain 
 that she did not bear about her any provisions, to avert the 
 intended punishment of her mother. At the end of a 
 week, the goaler was surprised to find his prisoner still 
 alive, and but little emaciated by her melancholy abstinence. 
 His suspicions were roused, and he determined to watch 
 what passed, at the next interview of the mother and 
 daughter. He did so, and what a spectacle met his eyes ! 
 He saw the child uncover her breast, and, offering it to her 
 parent, thus furnish the nourishment which sustained her. 
 Overcome by the filial tenderness and devotion of the act, 
 he immediately related it to the praetor, who reported it to 
 
212 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 the consul, but not before the people had learned it; so that 
 the chief magistrate was soon surrounded by an immense 
 crowd of the citizens, all imploring the pardon of the 
 mother for the sake of the Roman daughter. This was 
 readily granted; and a pension out of the public treasure, 
 enabled the virtuous child to take upon herself the support 
 of the parent, whose life she had sustained in so devoted a 
 manner. The story of the Roman daughter has now be- 
 come a model and a by-word. The tradition is a monu- 
 ment which remains unaltered by time, while the monument, 
 sacred to piety, erected near the spot by the admiring Ro- 
 mans, has lono 1 since been destroved. 
 
 During an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the inhabitants 
 of the neighbourhood were flying in every direction, bearing 
 with them what they deemed most valuable of their pro- 
 perty. Here might be seen one bearing a vase of silver, 
 which had come to him from his ancestors. Here the 
 young and old were laden with articles of furniture. 
 Among others, two young men, Anapias and Amphinomas, 
 vwere selecting such goods as they deemed most precious, 
 and were on the point of starting with their burden, when 
 one of them recollected his aged and bed-ridden parents. 
 He immediately threw down his load, and exclaimed, 
 " What have we in the world, more precious to us than the 
 authors of our being? Let their safety be our first care." 
 Both then returned to the house, and lifting their parents 
 on their shoulders, bore them in safety from the flames. 
 The people, who observed the filial devotion of the act, re- 
 lated it to others, and the field, through which the young 
 men took in their flight, was loner known as the "field of 
 the pious." 
 
 "What was the most pleasing event of your life," said a 
 friend, one day, to Epaminondas, the Theban general, and 
 the conqueror of Leuctra. (: It was this," he replied, " that 
 I gained the great battle at a time, when both my parents 
 were living to enjoy the news of my success. 
 
 A singular instance of the force of filial affection is re- 
 lated of Atys the son of Croesus, king of Lydia. When 
 his capital was taken by Cyrus, the soldiers penetrated into 
 
FILIAL PIETY. 213 
 
 the palace of Croesus, and not. knowing the monarch, were 
 upon the point of putting him to death. Attracted by the 
 noise, Atys ran to the spot, and saw the fatal purpose of 
 the soldiers. The obstructions, which had so long rendered 
 him a mute, gave way in the dreadful struggle of nature to 
 save his father's life, and the uplifted sword was arrested by 
 the exclamation of the prince, "Stay, barbarian, and spare 
 the king my father!" The soldier desisted, and Atys and 
 Croesus were carried as prisoners before the Persian mon- 
 arch. 
 
 The first gilded statue, that ever rose in Rome or Italy, 
 to do honour to the person whom it represented, was a sta- 
 tue erected by a son in honour of his father. It was erect- 
 ed in the temple of Piety, by Marcus Acilius Glabrio, a 
 knight, to commemorate the victory, which his father had 
 gained over Antiochus, at the straights of Thermopylae. 
 
 Olympias, the mother of Alexander the great, was of so 
 unhappy a temper, that her son was obliged to prevent her 
 having any thing to do with the management of the affairs 
 of the government, even in his absence ; on which account 
 she vexed and annoyed him constantly, with bitter and dis- 
 tressing complaints ; all of which he bore with exemplary 
 patience and forbearance. One day, he received a letter 
 from Antipater, containing many things, against Olympias, 
 which Alexander was well convinced were true. He fold- 
 ed up the scroll, however, and merely remarked, " Antipa- 
 ter does not know, that one single, tear, shed by a mother, 
 will obliterate ten thousand such letters as this." 
 
 Thefe was a widow in Japan, who was left, by the death 
 of her husband, extremely poor^ and depending for support 
 upon the exertions of three sons. For some time, the pro- 
 duce of their labour was sufficient, with the greatest econo- 
 my, for the scanty support of the family. At times, how- 
 ever, the want of employment would cause great distress 
 to the widow and her sons, and they would remain without 
 food for some days, until accident gave the means of ob- 
 taining it. In this situation they lived for some time ; but 
 at last, not being able to endure the sight of their mother's 
 want, the sons determined to relieve it, at the expense of 
 their lives. A large reward was offered for the discovery of a 
 19 
 
214 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 robber, who, it was supposed, had secreted himself in their 
 neighbourhood. The three brothers determined, that one 
 of them should pretend to be the criminal, and the others, 
 by delivering him to the judge, receive the promised re- 
 ward, and relieve with it the necessities of their mother. 
 They accordingly drew lots to ascertain the sufferer, and 
 chance decided upon the youngest. With the greatest 
 satisfaction he submitted to his fate, and was conducted by 
 the other two before the criminal tribunal where, after con- 
 fessing the robbery, he was committed to prison, and the 
 brothers received the reward. They had borne without a 
 murmur, the remarks and reproaches of the crowd, on their 
 fancied inhumanity : but the feelings of nature were strong 
 within them, and before they returned home, they begged 
 and obtained permission to visit their brother in his cell. 
 Here they embraced him with bitter tears, s and besought 
 him to forgive the part, which misery had forced them to 
 take in the transaction. He consoled them in their grie£ 
 bid them not care for him, but hasten to relieve their 
 mother, and bring him news that she was no longer in want, 
 before he died. The goaler had, unseen, watched the inter- 
 view, and struck with its singularity, he hastened, on the 
 departure of the two brothers, to communicate it to the 
 judge. This last, perceiving that there was a mystery, which 
 he could not comprehend, commanded the execution to be 
 postponed, and directed a servant, on whom he could rely, 
 to follow the brothers, and not to lose sight of them, until 
 he had found a clue to their conduct. The servant follow- 
 ed them to their mother's house, and saw them when they 
 related to her the act, which they had committed, and 
 shewed her the money, which had rewarded them. The 
 unhappy woman was struck speechless with grief; she 
 pushed the gold from her; and at last, with violent cries, be- 
 sought them to restore her child, and let them perish to- 
 gether of hunger, rather than that she should live on the 
 price of his blood. The servant had now seen enough, and 
 he returned to the judge, who immediately sent for the 
 supposed robber, and questioned him closely as to the 
 truth of what the servant had related, as the cause of. his 
 present imprisonment. The third^ brother denied it most 
 strenuously, insisting that he was guilty, and should suffer; 
 and it was only when the others appeared, and confessed 
 the fact and their motives, that he was silent. The judge, 
 deeply affected by the filial piety of all three, bestowed 
 
FILIAL PIETY. 215 
 
 upon them large presents, freed the youngest from prison, 
 and took good care that the widow and her sons should 
 never again feel the pressure of want. 
 
 Pomponius Atticus, who was celebrated for the devoted 
 attention, which he always paid to his mother, declared, in 
 pronouncing her funeral oration, that though he had lived 
 with her sixty-seven years, he had never been reconciled to 
 her. The audience were astonished, and some of them 
 exclaimed at such a declaration. "No," said Atticus"; "for 
 during all that time, there never happened the least differ- 
 ence between us, that needed reconciliation." 
 
 While Edward I. of England, was in the Holy Land, 
 with the crusaders, the news came to him, that he had lost, 
 his only son, and that his father, Henry III., was dead. He 
 heard of the death of his son with great composure, but 
 grieved sadly for the loss of his father. Charles, king of 
 Sicily, who was present, expressed his wonder at this differ- 
 ence in the display of Edward's feelings; to which the 
 king replied, "God may send me more sons; but the death 
 Of a father is an irreparable loss." 
 
 The English laws punish vice ; the Chinese laws do more, 
 they reward virtue. Goldsmith. 
 
 "In China let a son become ever so rich, and a father 
 ever so poor, there is no submission, in point of obedience, 
 that the latter cannot command, ot that the former can re- 
 fuse. The father is not only absolute master of his son's 
 estate, but of his children also; whom, if they displease him, 
 he may sell to strangers. When a father accuses a son, 
 before a mandarin, there needs no proof of his guilt; for 
 they cannot believe that any father can be so unnatural as 
 to bring a false accusation against his own son. But should 
 a son be so insolent as to mock his father, or arrive at such 
 a pitch of wickedness as to strike him, all the province, 
 where the act of violence is committed, is alarmed: it even 
 becomes the concern of the whole empire; the emperor 
 himself judges the criminal. The mandarins near the place 
 are turned out of their posts, especially those in the town 
 where the offender lived, for having been so negligent 
 
216 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 in their instructions ; and . the neighbours are reprimand- 
 ed for neglecting, by former punishments, to put a stop to 
 the wickedness of the criminal, before it arrived at such an 
 extremity. With respect to the unhappy man himself, he 
 is put to death; his house and those near it are destroyed,, 
 and the ground is sowed with salt, under the idea, that there 
 must be some uncommon depravity of manners, requiring- 
 extraordinary corrections, in a community to which such a 
 monster belonged." 
 
 Although much of the above description of the custom 
 of China exhibits the character of an almost half barbarous 
 people, yet the principle, which is at the bottom of the cus- 
 tom itself, is most admirable. There is nothing, just, which 
 is required of us by the authors of our being and the pro- 
 tectors of our infancy, which we should not do ; and there 
 is scarcely any punishment too great for a neglect of the 
 duty prescribed by the Almighty himself, when he placed 
 npon the tables of the law, the divine injunction, "Honour 
 thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the 
 land. 35 
 
 Cicero tells us of Solon, the wisest legislator of Athens r 
 that he had provided no law in his code, against parricide ;. 
 and that being asked, why he had not, he replied, "That to 
 make laws against, and to ordain punishments for, a crime,, 
 that had been never known or heard of, was the way to in- 
 troduce it, rather than to prevent it." 
 
 A transport, containing several hundred Portuguese sol- 
 diers, was shipwrecked on the coast of Canraria, in Africa. 
 A portion of the survivors determined to proceed along the 
 beach, and the rest committed themselves once more to the 
 sea, in a vessel constructed of the remains of the wreck, 
 which had been washed ashore. They had not been long 
 out of sight of land, before it was discovered, that in case 
 of a storm, the boat was too heavily laden for safety; and 
 when the appearance of the waves and sky threatened a 
 heavy gale, it was decided to cast lots, to ascertain who 
 should be thrown overboard. Among others, upon whom 
 chance cast the fatal lots, there was a soldier, whose young- 
 er brother was likewise in the boat. This last, the moment 
 that he heard the result, threw himself on his knees, and 
 besought the crew to spare his brother, and take him as a 
 
CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 217 
 
 yictim in his stead. "We are the only children," he said, 
 of poor and aged parents, who depend upon us for support. 
 I can do nothing to relieve them. It is my brother upon 
 whom they depend for food. They will perish if you de- 
 stroy him, while the loss of my life will give them no addi- 
 tional inconvenience." The crew, softened by his entrea- 
 ties, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the elder brother, 
 determined to accept the younger in his stead. This one 
 then calmly distributed his clothes among those of his 
 friends, who were destined to survive, and threw himself 
 into the sea. For a moment he sunk, and as the crew 
 thought, forever. But in another instant it was seen that 
 the love of life was still strong within him, as he stoutly 
 swam after the boat. He continued to do this for six hours, 
 when the entreaties of his brother, induced the others to 
 take him on board, when the threatened storm had passed; 
 and, after suffering great distress, the whole were at last 
 saved by a vessel which they chanced to fall in with. 
 
 Oh mother, mother! 
 What have you done ? Behold the heavens do ope, 
 The gods look down, and this unnatural scene, 
 They laugh at. 0! my mother, mother! 0! 
 You have won a happy victory to Rome : 
 But for your son, believe it, ! believe it, 
 Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, 
 If not most mortal to him. But, let it come: — 
 Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, 
 I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, 
 Will you in my stead, say, would you have heard 
 A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius. Coriolanus. 
 
 CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 
 
 As time, which strengthens friendship, weakens love, 
 therefore, man and wife should in their youth so live togeth- 
 er as two friends, most cautious of offending each other, 
 that when they, grow old, their friendship may improve as 
 love declines. 
 19* 
 
218 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 When the celebrated Grotius was confined in prison, his 
 wife was permitted to visit him, and as he continued those 
 literary works, which have since obtained him so extensive 
 a fame, he persuaded his gaolers to admit the books, which 
 it was necessary for him to consult, in the progress of his 
 labours. These were generally brought to him in a very- 
 large chest, which he filled with the books he had done with r 
 together with unclean linen, and returned it for more. His 
 wife, who had the care of procuring the books, which he 
 asked for, conceived the idea one day, of putting Grotius 
 himself into the chest, instead of the books, and so enabling' 
 him to escape. The soldiers on guard had at first been very 
 careful, in examining what went from the prison, and had 
 turned the contents of the chest over and over, to see that 
 there was nothing improper. Finding, however, nothing* 
 but musty parchments and soiled linen, they at last permit- 
 ted it to pass without a remark. This was the very, time to 
 make the attempt; and Grotius was persuaded by his wife r 
 to put himself, and not the books, into the chest, at its next 
 trip. For some days previous to this, he feigned illness, the 
 more surely to lull the suspicions of his gaoler. His wife 
 drew the curtains of the bed close, locked her husband up 
 in his hiding place, and summoning the -attendants, bade 
 them take away the books without making any noise, as the 
 prisoner was ill and asleep. They entered on tiptoes, and 
 after some exclamations at the great heaviness of the 
 load, carried it to the usual place of deposit, where they left 
 it. The wife remained in prison, until she thought, that 
 she had allowed full time for her husband to make his es- 
 cape; and then, calling the guards, laughed at them for the 
 carelessness, by which they suffered their charge to elude 
 them. She was a woman and a wife, and her conjugal af- 
 fection was suffered to pass unpunished. 
 
 The following lines were made to celebrate the elope- 
 ment : — 
 
 "This chest, which to its master did convey 
 
 Full many a massive volume every day, 
 
 Unconscious now of greater weight and cares, 
 
 A living library in Grotius bears." 
 
 After the death of Mausolus, king of Caria, the go- 
 vernment of the kingdom remained in the hands of his wife 
 Artemisia. This princess employed all her weakh, in rais* 
 
CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 210 
 
 ing to his memory a tomb, which should surpass all others 
 in splendor, and remain a monument of her devoted affeo 
 tion. In this she succeeded so well, that the work, when 
 finished, was ranked as one of the seven wonders of the 
 world, and being called after her husband, has given the 
 name of Mausoleum to all tombs of a similar construction, 
 though far inferior in point of beauty or costliness. 
 
 After the defeat of Nigidius, the Roman general, by the 
 Lusitanians, the Romans, although much weakened, were 
 still strong enough to make successful incursions into the 
 enemy's country, and in one of these, took prisoners a 
 number of Lusitanians, with their wives and children. At 
 night all the women were confined in one place, with their 
 hands bound together, to prevent any attempts to escape. 
 The precaution, however, was useless. Hour after hour, 
 the Lusitanian women gnawed at the cords, which tied the 
 hands of one of them, who, being liberated by these means, 
 soon released the rest. The band of wives then proceeded 
 to the place where their husbands were confined, and fur- 
 nished them with arms, taken from the sleeping soldiers. 
 The guards around the prisoners, were attacked and killed. 
 Their cries awoke the whole encampment ; and the Romans, 
 believing themselves to be assailed from without, in their 
 consternation and fear, were easily overcome. The Lusita- 
 nians then returned to their homes, boasting of the address 
 and courage, to which they were indebted for their liberty. 
 
 At the siege of Famagostaby the Turks, a woman, whose 
 name should have been preserved for posterity, saw her 
 husband fall, mortally wounded. She immediately snatched 
 a javelin from the hands of a soldier near her, and killed 
 the Janissary, who had made her a widow. She then 
 plunged into the thickest of the fight, and after receiving 
 many severe wounds, was urged to retire, that they might 
 be dressed. "No," she replied, "I wish to avenge my 
 husband, and I have chosen this rampart for my tomb.'* 
 She then redoubled her exertions, and soon fell, overcome 
 only by the number of her opponents. 
 
 Conrad III., emperor of Germany, in 1139, laid siege to 
 Wiensperg, a small city in the duchy of Wirtemberg. The 
 duke, who bad been violently opposed to the election of 
 
220 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 Conrad, expecting no favour, shut himself up in Wiensperg 
 with his wife, determining to defend the place to the last 
 extremity. The emperor became every day more irritated 
 at the obstinate resistance, which he met with; his soldiers 
 were slain in great numbers; and when he at last effected a 
 breach, he determined to put all the male inhabitants to the 
 sword. He sent word, therefore, to the besieged, that every 
 woman might leave the town, bearing on her person, what- 
 ever part of her property she' considered the most valuable. 
 The offer was accepted, and the time appointed for the wo- 
 men to leave the place. The army of Conrad was drawn 
 up to witness their departure, and the soldiers were mur- 
 muring at the loss of the gold and silver and jewels, which 
 would have been their spoil, in the assault, but which they 
 expected would be borne off by the wives of the besieged. 
 In a short time, the gates of Wiensperg were thrown open, 
 and the procession began to issue from beneath its arch. 
 But what a sight met the eyes of the German soldiers ! In- 
 stead of bearing rich vessels of precious metal, instead 
 of being decked in jewelry, each woman bore upon her 
 shoulders, a husband, a father, or a brother. These were 
 the valuables of the x Wiensperg heroines, who, led by the 
 dutchess, now approached the tent of the emperor. It was 
 a sight not to be withstood. The Wienspergers had slain 
 the soldiers of Conrad, and had occasioned him a great ex- 
 pense of blood and treasure ; but this trait of female affec- 
 tion obliterated all feelings of revenge ; the town was saved 
 from plunder, and the inhabitants permitted to return to 
 their customary occupations. 
 
 Marriage is the strictest tie of perpetual friendship, and 
 there can be no friendship without confidence, and no con- 
 fidence without integrity ; and he must expect to be wretch- 
 ed, who pays to beauty, riches or politeness 3 that regard 
 which only virtue and piety can claim. Johnson, 
 
 Polyxenes, the Syracusan, married Thesca, the sister of 
 Dionysius, the tyrant of Syracuse. When the conduct of 
 Dionysius became so outrageous, as to make it the duty of 
 all lovers of their country to oppose him, Polyxenes joined 
 in a conspiracy against him, which was discovered ; and to 
 prevent his falling into the tyrant's hands, he fled to Italy* 
 When Dionysius found that he had escaped, he sent for 
 
FRATERNAL AFFECTION. 221 
 
 Thesca, and bitterly reproached her for having concealed 
 from him the flight of her husband, and so preventing him 
 from punishing him as he deserved. To which Thesca re- 
 plied, "Have I then appeared so bad a wife to you, and of 
 so mean a soul, that you should think, that I would have 
 abandoned my husband in his flight, and not shared his 
 dangers and misfortunes ? No, I knew nothing of his ab- 
 sence ; for I should have been much happier in being called 
 the wife of Polyxenes in exile, in the remotest corner of 
 the world, than, in Syracuse, the sister of the tyrant." Di- 
 onysius, in admiration of the sentiments of his sister, for- 
 gave the boldness of her answer; and the Syracusans were 
 so charmed with her magnanimity, that after the overthrow 
 of the tyranny, the same honours, equipage, and train of a 
 queen, which she had enjoyed before, were continued till her 
 death; and when this at last happened, the people in a 
 mighty concourse, attended her body to the tomb. 
 
 FRATERNAL AFFECTION. 
 
 Under one of the Chinese emperors, a person, charged 
 with a capital offence, escaped from the place where he was 
 confined, and took refuge with a friend. Strict search was 
 made after him, but for a long time without effect; his friend 
 being proof against the temptation of large rewards to betray 
 him, and regardless, too, of the penalty of death, which he 
 knew was denounced against those who harboured fugitives 
 from justice. At last, however, his place of concealment 
 was discovered, and his friend was conducted along with 
 him to prison. The friend was now examined before the 
 judge, and sentence was on the point of being pronounced, 
 when his younger brother rushed into the court, proclaim- 
 ing aloud that he was the guilty person; that he had har- 
 boured the fugitive ; and that his elder brother was altogether 
 innocent of the crime laid to his charge. The judge, in 
 much astonishment, examined both parties, and at last be- 
 came convinced, that the youngest was deceiving him; in- 
 deed he made him confess it. His curiosity, however, was 
 now much excited to know, what could be the motive of 
 the voluntary self-accusation, which he had heard; and after 
 some time, the younger confessed as follows. "It is true, 
 
222 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 B'ir, that I have accused myself falsely ; but I have strong rea- 
 sons for so doing. My mother has been dead for some 
 time, and she is yet unburied. I have a sister also, who is 
 marriageable, but is not yet disposed of. These are affairs 
 which my brother is capable of managing, but I am not, 
 end therefore desire to die in his stead. Vouchsafe there- 
 fore, to admit my testimony, and to receive me as the cul- 
 prit." The judge would not decide, but laid the case be- 
 fore the emperor, who, as a reward for the noble disinterest- 
 edness of the younger brother, granted the life of the elder. 
 
 During the siege of Haerlem, in 1572, by Frederick, of 
 Toledo, a Spanish officer, named Stunica, found on his re- 
 turn to camp, after a desperate and unsuccessful assault, 
 that his brother, who had fought at his side, was among the 
 number of the missing. There was but little doubt of his 
 fate, and Stunica hurrying back to the breach, entered it 
 under a shower of bullets, which seemed to possess no 
 power to harm him, searched among the pile of dead 
 bodies, and at last discovered his brother in the agonies of 
 approaching dissolution. He raised him immediately upon 
 his shoulders, and with a firm and deliberate step, recrossed 
 the ditch, and with his precious burden, the trophy of his 
 eourage and the proof of his fraternal affection, reached the 
 camp in safety. 
 
 King Cucho had three sons, to the youngest of whom he 
 was so tenderly attached, that in violation of the established 
 custom of the kingdom, he left him the crown, and named 
 him as- his successor. The people, whose customs were 
 thus invaded, paid no attention to the will, and offered the 
 government of the kingdom to the eldest son. This one, 
 however, refused to accept it, declaring that he was unwor- 
 thy, since his father had seen proper to exclude him. He 
 therefore took the crown, placed it in public on the head of 
 the younger brother, and attempted to proclaim him king, 
 as prescribed by his father's will. The youngest was so 
 moved by the generosity of his brother, who having the 
 people on his side, might have done as he chose, that he re- 
 fused to accept the superior rank, and insisted that his 
 brother should assume it. The fraternal contest was con- 
 tinued for some time ; when finding that they could not 
 agree which should be made superior to the other, they 
 
PRESENCE OF MIND. 233 
 
 agreed to give up all claim to royalty, and crowning the 
 second born as king, retired to enjoy their mutual affection, 
 undisturbed by the cares of government. 
 
 PRESENCE OF MIND. 
 
 The presence of mind of a Highland officer, in the fore- 
 most division of Wolfe's army, saved it from premature 
 discovery and defeat, on its approach to obtain possession 
 of the heights of Abraham, with the intention of besieging 
 Quebec, then occupied by the French. The English 
 Army embarked at some distance above Quebec, and with 
 muffled oars floated down the St. Lawrence, to the place 
 fixed upon for landing. The darkness of the night pre- 
 vented them from seing the spot, and they were carried some 
 distance beyond it, and within hail of the French centinels, 
 before they were aware of their mistake. They were at 
 last startled by a loud hail from under the bank. " Qui va 
 la" (who goes there,) shouted a voice, within twenty feet of 
 them. For an instant, the astonished soldiers were silent. 
 With great presence of mind, the Highlander then answer- 
 ed in the same language, u La France" The centinel then 
 demanded, " Au quel regiment" (of what regiment,) to 
 which the other quickly replied, " De la Reine" having 
 accidentally heard, that the queen's regiment was one, 
 which the French at -Quebec expected down the river. 
 The other centinels were deceived in like manner, until 
 one, more cautious than the rest, remarking the under tone, 
 in which the highlander's answers were given to his com- 
 panions, ran close to the water's edge, and called out, Pour- 
 quoi ne parlez vousplus haut," (why don't you speak louder;) 
 with great readiness, the other immediately rejoined, speak- 
 ing still lower, " Tais toi, nous serons entendues," (hold your 
 tongue, or we shall be overheard.) Thus cautioned, the sen- 
 tinel retired, without further question, and soon after, the 
 army effected its landing in safety, carried by assault a small 
 fortification, which opposed them, and gained the hitherto 
 impregnable plains of Abraham. The fall of Quebec, and 
 the death of the gallant Wolfe, were the consequences of 
 this night's success. 
 
224 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 On one occasion, during the revolution, lieutenant colonel 
 Lee encamped, late in the evening, near the forks of a road, 
 one of which led to Comwallis's camp, six miles distant. 
 His object was to interrupt some tory companies, which he 
 understood were about joining the royalist forces. His 
 orders were to march before dawn from the spot; and this 
 was done with such silence, that an officer named Manning, 
 on awaking at day light, found himself entirely deserted, 
 with the exception of an orderly soldier, who was fast 
 asleep on a portmanteau. This man he roused up, and 
 mounting immediately, they rode rapidly to the forks, in- 
 tending to overtake his regiment. Both roads appearing 
 equally travelled, he took the wrong one. At a short dis- 
 tance down it, he saw a log hut, before which a rifleman 
 was standing as sentinel. He went up to him, and asked, 
 if he had seen a body of troops pass by within the hour. 
 "Oho!" said the fellow, who was one of the tories, "so you 
 are one of Greene's men, are y-ou." These words emptied 
 the hut, and Manning found himself surrounded by his 
 enemies. - "Hush, you fool," answered he, to the sentinel; 
 "I have got that in yonder portmanteau," pointing to the 
 one carried by the soldier, "' which will ruin Greene. So 
 hold your tongue, and shew me the way to Comwallis's 
 army, that I may lay the papers before him." " Well done 
 for an honest fellow," cried a dozen voices; "you have left 
 the rebels in good time. Colonel Pyle will raise the settle- 
 ment to night, and Tarleton is to meet us and conduct us 
 to the English army; so your neck is well out of the noose. 
 Yonder is the road, and one of us will go with you, lest you 
 lose it." "By no means," said Manning, "that will double 
 the risk. If the rebels should meet us, they will hang me 
 for a deserter, and you for leading me to Cornwallis." This 
 caution had the desired effect, and after riding a short dis- 
 tance towards the English camp, Manning cut across the 
 country, gained the right road, and overtaking Lee, inform* 
 ed him of the intended meeting of the tories. It is almost 
 needless to say, that their night meeting was a fatal one. 
 Lee was upon them; and before morning, had destroyed 
 and made prisoners the greatest part of them. 
 
 It Was the same officer, whose presence of mind saved 
 his life at the battle of Eutaw. On the retreat of the Bri- 
 tish regiment of the Old Buffs, he sprang forward on foot 
 

 PRESENCE OF MIND. 225 
 
 to follow them, and after proceeding two hundred yards, 
 found himself surrounded by enemies, and in front of a 
 large house, into which a company of them were retreating. 
 He saw the muskets pointing from the windows, and seiz- 
 ing an English officer, who was near him, by the collar, he 
 cried, in a harsh voice, "Sir, you are my prisoner;" at the 
 same time wresting his sword from his grasp, and keeping 
 his body as a shield, against the fire from the house. The 
 prisoner, instead of resisting, began, with great solemnity of 
 manner, to remonstrate against so unceremonious a pro- 
 ceeding, saying; "Sir, I am Henry Barry, deputy adjutant 
 general of the British army, captain in the 52d regiment, 
 secretary to the commandant of Charleston." "Enough, 
 enough, sir," said Manning; "you are just the man I was 
 looking for : fear nothing for your life ; you shall screen me 
 from danger, and I will take especial care of you." 
 
 While bearing off his prisoner, as above related, Manning 
 saw a friend, engaged in single combat with a British offi- 
 cer. They stood alone in the field, one armed with a 
 broadsword, and the other with a musket and bayonet. Pre- 
 sently they cast aside their weapons, and closed with the 
 arms, which nature had given them. At this moment, a 
 British grenadier ran to the combatants, and attempted to 
 thrust his bayonet through the body of the American. It 
 passed through his coat only, without wounding him ; but 
 the violence of the blow threw both on the ground. The 
 soldier was on the point of repeating the thrust, when Man- 
 ning, who was not yet within striking distance, cried out, 
 "You scoundrel, would you murder the gentleman." The 
 soldier, turning round, saw Barry, from whom he thought 
 the command proceeded ; and before he discovered his mis- 
 take, Manning struck him to the ground. The American, 
 by this time, had overcome his opponent on the ground ; 
 although his death had been certain, but for the interposi- 
 tion of Manning. 
 
 Men of enterprising and energetic minds, when buried 
 alive in the gloomy walls of a prison, may be considered as 
 called upon to endure a trial, that will put all their strength 
 of mind and fortitude to the test, far more than all the 
 hazards, the dilemmas and the broils of the camp, the cabi- 
 net or the cabal. I have often considered, that the Cardinal 
 20 
 
226 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 de Retz was never so great as upon one occasion, whicB 
 occurred at the castle of Vincennes. He was shut up in 
 that fortress, by his implacable enemy, Mazarin; and on 
 looking out of his grated window, to fan the burning fever 
 of hope delayed, he saw some labourers busy in preparing 
 a small plat of ground, opposite to his apartment. When 
 the person commissioned to attend him, brought in his 
 breakfast, he ventured to inquire of him, what those labour- 
 ers were about, whom he saw from his window. "They are 
 preparing the ground for the reception of the seed of some 
 asparagus, a vegetable of which we have heard that your 
 excellency is particularly fond." The cardinal received this 
 appalling intelligence with a smile. Lacon. 
 
 INDUSTRY. 
 
 Let honesty and industry be thy constant companions; 
 and spend one penny less than thy clear gains, Then shall 
 thy hide bound pocket soon begin to thrive, and will never 
 again cry with the empty belly-aches, neither will creditors 
 insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, nor naked- 
 ness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will shine bright- 
 er, and pleasure spring up in every corner of thy heart. 
 Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish 
 the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live indepen- 
 dent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy face at 
 the approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of feeling 
 little, when the sons of fortune walk at thy right hand, for 
 independency, whether with little or much, is good fortune, 
 and places thee on even ground, with the proudest of the 
 golden fleece. Oh, then, be wise, and let industry walk 
 with thee in the morning, and attend thee until thou readi- 
 est the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be as the breath 
 of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny, when all thy 
 expenses are enumerated and paid. Then shalt thou reach 
 the point of happiness, and independence shall be thy 
 shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown; then shall thy 
 soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch because 
 he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse, because the hand 
 which offers it, wears a ring set with diamonds. 
 
 Franklin, 
 
INDUSTRY. 227 
 
 Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy; and 
 he that riseth late, must trot all day, and shall scarcely over- 
 take his business at night ; while Laziness travels so slowly, 
 that Poverty soon overtakes him. Franklin. 
 
 The difference between rising at five and seven o'clock 
 in the morning, for the space of forty years, supposing a 
 man to go to bed at the same hour at night, is nearly equi- 
 valent to the addition of ten years to a man's life. 
 
 Doddridge. 
 
 The idle levy a very heavy tax upon the industrious, 
 when by frivolous irritations they rob them of their time. 
 Such persons beg their daily happiness from door to door, 
 as beggars their daily bread, and like them, sometimes meet 
 with a rebuff. A mere gossip ought not to wonder,' if we 
 shew signs that we are tired of him, seeing that we are in- 
 debted to the honour of his visit, solely to the circumstance 
 of his being tired of himself. He sits at home, until he 
 has accumulated an insupportable load of ennui, and he 
 sallies forth to distribute it amongst all his acquaintance. 
 
 Lacon. 
 
 Many men fail in life, for the want, as they are too ready 
 to suppose, of those great occasions, wherein they might 
 have shewn their trustworthiness and their integrity ; but all 
 such persons should remember, that in order to try whether 
 a vessel be leaky, we should first prove it with water, before 
 we trust it with wine. The more minute, trivial, and we 
 might say, vernacular opportunities, of being just and up- 
 right, are constantly occurring to every one, and it is an 
 unimpeachable character in these lesser things, that almost 
 invariably prepares and produces those very opportunities 
 of greater advancement, and of higher confidence, which 
 turn out so rich a harvest; but which those alone are per- 
 mitted to reap, who have previously sown. Lacon. 
 
 Among other means employed to promote industry, at 
 Athens, was the inquiry, which was frequently made in the 
 court of the Areopagus, into the circumstances and means 
 of support of individuals. In this inquiry, if it was disco- 
 vered, that a man was slothful and idle, and likely to be- 
 
228 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 come a burden upon the community, a note of disgrace 
 was set upon him, and not unfrequently he was ejected 
 from the city, as a useless member of society. In this 
 manner, it was made every man's interest, to provide for 
 himself and family, by industrious habits and respectable 
 employments. 
 
 There is a story told by Pliny, of a man who was accused 
 by his neighbours, of having enchanted the ground, because 
 his crops of all kinds were more abundant, and his wealth, 
 iri consequence, greater than theirs. He was put upon his 
 trial on the charge ; and after the evidence for the accusers 
 was gone through, he was told to produce his witnesses. 
 He brought forward his strong and willing daughter, well 
 fed, and of a comely deportment ; and exhibited his carts 
 and stout oxen, and improved implements of husbandry, 
 and shewed the whole system of his tillage, his manuring 
 and alternation of crops, and his constant and hard labour. 
 He then cried out before the judges, "Behold the magic 
 arts and charms, which I use." The judges acquitted him 
 with honour and credit, and declared, that the fertility of 
 the land was the natural consequence of his industry and 
 good husbandry. 
 
 Love labour ; if you do not want it for food, you may for 
 physic. The idle man is more perplexed to know what to 
 do, than the industrious man in doing what he ought. 
 They are few, indeed, who know how to be idle and inno- 
 cent. By doing nothing, we learn to do ill. 
 
 Among the Romans, when they conducted a new mar- 
 ried woman to her husband's house, a person walked before 
 her with a distaff and bobbin, to shew that she should em- 
 ploy herself in working and spinning. 
 
 Alfred the great divided the day and night into three 
 parts, of eight hours each. Eight hours were devoted to 
 sleep, meals -and exercise ; eight to reading, writing and 
 prayer; and eight to public business. 
 
 It is an undoubted truth, that the less one has to do, the 
 less time he has to do it in. One yawns, one procrasti* 
 
INDUSTRY. 229 
 
 nates, one can xlo it when one will, and therefore one sel- 
 dom does it at all. Whereas, those who have a great deal 
 of business, must, to use a vulgar expression, buckle to it; 
 and then they may always find time enongh to do it in. 
 
 Chesterfield. 
 
 The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit, are to 
 be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the 
 morning, or at nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes 
 him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a billiard 
 table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at 
 work, he sends for his money the next day. Franklin. 
 
 The taxes are indeed very heavy; and if those laid on by 
 the government, were the only ones we had to pay, we 
 might more easily discharge them; but we have many 
 others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are 
 taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much 
 by our pride, and four times as much by our folly ; and from 
 these taxes, the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by 
 allowing abatement. Franklin . 
 
 Roger Sherman, one of the Congress which enacted the 
 Declaration of Independence, served his country faithfully 
 m various public offices, for upwards of forty years, during 
 the whole of which time he was distinguished, by his talents 
 and strong intellect, no less than by his unbending integrity. 
 His name has descended to us, among those who stood 
 highest in the ranks of successful opposition, to the usur- 
 pation and encroachments of Great Britain, and his life 
 presents a striking example of the effects of industry and 
 virtue, in raising their possessor to eminence. Until he 
 reached the age of twenty-three years, Sherman worked at 
 the trade of a shoemaker, and his change of profession 
 may be traced to the following circumstance. A neighbour 
 who wanted legal advice, requested him to call upon a 
 lawyer and state his case. Sherman made a memorandum 
 of the facts, and proceeded to execute the commission. 
 He made himself perfectly intelligible, but the lawyer re- 
 marking that he constantly referred to his notes, asked to 
 see them. Much embarrassed, Sherman handed them to 
 him. The first step in the case, was a petition to the court; 
 and when the lawyer had read the notes, he informed their 
 20* 
 
£30 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 owner, that with slight alterations in point of form, they 
 answered as well as any thing that could be written. Upon 
 inquiring further into the character of Sherman, he advised 
 him to study law. He did so; and rose to that height in 
 his profession, which entitled him to, and procured for him, 
 the confidence and admiration of his fellow citizens. 
 
 Aim at perfection in every thing, though in most things 
 it is unattainable; however, those who aim at it, and perse- 
 vere, will come much nearer to it, than those whose lazi- 
 ness and despondency, make them give it up as unattain- 
 able. Chesterfield. 
 
 The richest genius, like the most fertile soil, when uncul- 
 tivated, shoots up into the rankest weeds; and instead of 
 vines and olives for the pleasure and use of man, produces 
 to its slothful owner, the most abundant crop of poisons. 
 
 Hume. 
 
 Custom, curiosity or wantonness, supply every art with 
 patrons, and find purchasers for every manufacture. The 
 world is so adjusted, that not only bread, but riches, may be 
 obtained without great abilities, or arduous performances. 
 The most unskilful hand and unenlightened mind have suffi- 
 cient incitements to industry; for he that is resolutely busy, 
 can scarcely be in want. There is indeed, no employment, 
 however despicable, in which a man may not promise him- 
 self more than competence, when he sees thousands and 
 myriads raised to dignity, by no other merit than that of 
 contributing to supply their neighbours, with the means of 
 sucking smoke through a tube of clay; and others raising 
 contributions upon those, whose elegance disdains the 
 grossness of smoky luxury, by grinding the same materials 
 into a powder, that may at once gratify and impair the 
 smell. Adventurer. 
 
 When Petersburg was beginning to shew the plan and 
 intention of a city, Peter the great, in order to inspire 
 the workmen, and also to obtain knowledge himself, work- , 
 ed as a labourer, in the naval department of the city. One 
 day, he saw a Dutch merchantman sailing up the Neva, and 
 which, as it passed the navy yard, fired a salute. It was 
 
INDUSTRY. 231 
 
 the first foreign vessel, which had ventured up the river to 
 the new city, and Peter was delighted at the commence- 
 ment of a trade, however small. He inquired the object of 
 the visitor, and found, that the captain had brought a letter 
 of introduction from a merchant in Holland, to one who 
 iiad recently settled in the city, and that his object was, if 
 possible, to procure a freight home. Peter sent for the 
 resident merchant, and told him to invite the Dutchman to 
 his house, where he would meet him in the character of 
 one, who was in want of a vessel going to Holland. The 
 merchant obeyed, and in the evening, Peter met the captain, 
 in his working dress of the morning. The captain paid 
 but little attention to Peter at first, thinking, that one in his 
 mean attire could be of little service to him. The em- 
 press, also disguised as one of low degree, now presented 
 herself, and with her the stranger seemed more pleased, 
 than with her husband. He laughed and joked, made her 
 a present of a piece of linen, and slyly stole a kiss from 
 her. She received his presents with an awkward air, and 
 resisted coyly, the demonstration of his kindness; but the 
 emperor laughed loudly, and in good humour, made a bar- 
 gain with the captain, very advantageous to the latter, for 
 a freight to Holland. Prince Menzikoff now appeared, 
 decorated with all the insignia of his rank, and as he was 
 about to deliver a message to the emperor, stood uncovered 
 before him. Peter, however, signed to him to be silent, and 
 to retire ; but after he was gone, the Dutchman seemed in 
 much astonishment, and remarked, that Peter appeared to 
 be intimate with great men at court. "Yes," replied Peter, 
 "and they will let you be as intimate too, on the same 
 terms. In ten days you may be hand and glove with the 
 best of them. Only give out that you have money to lend, 
 and you will find plenty of needy nobles, who will stand 
 before you cap in hand, in the hope of borrowing some of 
 it from you. That fellow just now, wanted a few thousand 
 roubles, and would have gone on his knees to have obtained 
 them. I turned him off, you saw; but my money will bring 
 him back again." The rising suspicions of the merchant 
 were, in this manner, quelled, and they continued to chat 
 together sociably enough, when an offcer, entering for 
 orders, addressed Peter by the title of "Your Majesty." 
 The captain now sprung upon his feet, and the next mo- 
 ment was kneeling before the emperor and empress, begging 
 forgiveness for his presumptuous familiarity* "Tut, man," 
 
232 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 said Peter, " never mind. I owe you something for having 
 been the first to visit my new capital, and you have not 
 offended me. So long as the timbers of your vessel hang 
 together, she shall come and go throughout my dominions, 
 duty free ; and I hope yet to give you better freights from 
 Petersburg, than that which we have just agreed upon." 
 
 The hours of a wise man are lengthened by his ideas, as 
 those of a fool are by his passions. The time of the one 
 is long, because he does not know what to do with it ; so is 
 that of the other, because he distinguishes every moment 
 of it, with useful or amusing thoughts; or, in other words, 
 because the one is always wishing it away, and the other is 
 always enjoying it. Addison. 
 
 Lysander, a Lacedemonian general, was once walking 
 with Cyrus, the youngest son of Darius, in the gardens of 
 the latter. Lysander had been the bearer of magnificent 
 presents to Cyrus; gold and jewels, rich clothes, costly 
 manufactures, and noble steeds; all indeed, that a monarch 
 could fancy, were presented with royal munificence. They 
 were adapted, it was believed, to the tastes of the person, 
 who was to receive them. But Lysander was mistaken 
 in his estimate of the character of Darius. — As they walked 
 in the garden, the Lacedemonian general was struck with 
 the beauty of the prospect, and the exquisite arrangement 
 of shrubbery and parterre, of flowers and of fruit trees— the 
 useful and the ornamental. Of course, he naturally inquir- 
 ed, who had been the artist, under whose care the garden 
 had grown to such perfection. Cyrus replied, " It was I 
 that drew the plan, and entirely marked it out ; and many 
 of the trees, which you see, ' were planted by my own 
 hands." "What!" exclaimed Lysander, with surprise, and 
 viewing Cyrus from head to foot, "is it possible that with 
 those purple robes and splendid vestments, those strings of 
 jewels and bracelets of gold, those buskins so richly em- 
 broidered ; is it possible that you could play the gardener, 
 and employ your royal hands in planting trees?" "Does 
 that surprise you?" said Cyrus: "I assure you, that when 
 my health permits, I never sit down to a table, without 
 having fatigued myself, either in military exercise, rural 
 labour, or some other toilsome employment, to which I ap- 
 ply myself with pleasure." Lysander, still more amazed. 
 
INDUSTRY. 233 
 
 pressed Cyrus by the hand, and said, " You are truly 
 happy, and deserve your high fortune, since you unite with 
 it industry and virtue." 
 
 The effects of human industry and skill are easily sub- 
 jected to calculation. Whatever can be completed in a 
 year, is divisible into parts, of which each may be perform- 
 ed in the compass of a day. He, therefore, that has passed 
 the day, without attention to the task assigned him, may be 
 certain that the lapse of life has brought him no nearer to 
 his object; for whatever idleness may expect from time, its 
 produce will be only in proportion to the diligence with 
 which it has been used. He that floats lazily down the 
 stream, in pursuit of something borne along by the same 
 current, will find himself indeed, moved forward : but unless 
 he lays his hand to the oar, and increases his speed by his 
 own labour, must be always at the same distance from that 
 which he is following. Adventurer. 
 
 Peter the great, of Russia, ascended the throne of that 
 country at a time, when its people were unlettered and 
 ignorant; its nobles, so many petty tyrants' preying upon 
 their inferiors, and threatening their sovereigns; and the 
 whole nation, in fact, far behind the rest of Europe, in the 
 arts, comforts, and elegancies of civilized life. Peter 
 adopted at once the principle, that example in a monarch 
 is the most powerful agent, in operating either for good or 
 bad upon a subject ; and he determined to correct his own 
 ignorance in the first place, before he made any attempts to 
 improve his vassals. To improve himself in a knowledge 
 of those arts, in which both he and his subjects were defi- 
 cient, he travelled to the different cities of Europe, where 
 they were practised in the greatest perfection; and not 
 satisfied with obtaining a few superficial ideas, after the 
 fashion of most travellers, he set himself to acquiring a 
 practical knowledge of various arts, by working at them 
 himself as a journeyman. After his return to Russia, he 
 took great interest in the manufacture of iron, at the forges 
 at Istria, then superintended by Muller. In one of his 
 visits, he commenced forging himself, and continued the 
 practice, until in one day, after a pretty long apprenticeship, 
 he forged eighteen poods. His boyars and noblemen at- 
 tended to the forge, blew the bellows, and did the regular 
 
^34 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 duties of assistants ; for who would not work, when a king, 
 and a king of Russia too, set the example ? and when the 
 day's task was completed, Peter and his titled labourers 
 waited with their work upon the master, to receive, as usual, 
 the wages they were entitled to. The wages for eighteen 
 poods was eighteen anas, and Peter demanded them. 
 Muller went away for an instant, and returned with eighteen 
 ducats, saying, that it was the least, which he could offer to 
 such a workman. "No such thing," replied Peter; "I 
 have toiled like another, and no better. I have done you 
 eighteen anas worth of service, and am entitled to no more 
 than eighteen anas. That sum I will take, and I want it 
 too. My shoes are almost worn out, and that will very 
 nearly buy me another pair;" and, as he spoke, he exhibited 
 his shoes, which really wanted replacing. Muller paid him 
 his due, and the great Peter left the shop, to return to the 
 throne. These lessons were not without their effect ; and 
 the subjects of Peter, as they rapidly advanced in the arts, 
 acknowledged the obligations, which they owed their mon- 
 arch ; and to this day, the Russians have a pride in shewing 
 one of the bars of iron, forged by Peter, at Muller's, and 
 stamped with his peculiar mark. 
 
 Read, not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and 
 take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh 
 and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be 
 swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested: that 
 is, some books are to be read only in part, others to be read, 
 but not curiously, and some few to be read wholly, but with 
 diligence and attention. Lord Bacon. 
 
 In the year 1714, Benjamin Franklin, then a boy of eight 
 years of age, was sent to a grammar school in Massachu- 
 setts, preparatory to receiving the education, which was to 
 fit him to be a clergyman. But his parents were too poor 
 to bear the expense of a regular education, and Franklin, in 
 a short time, was taken home to his father's trade; where his 
 time was occupied in trimming wicks, filling moulds, and 
 performing the duties of an apprentice to a tallow chandler. 
 But Franklin did not like his trade, and was about to be ap- 
 prenticed to a cutler. The amount of the fee, was more than 
 his parents could afford; and, once more changing his occu-. 
 pation, he was regularly bound to his own brother, the 
 
INDUSTRY. %36 
 
 printer of a newspaper, Here he read every thing, which 
 came in his way ; exercised himself in composition, attract- 
 ed some notice, by communications published in his brother's 
 paper, and upon one occasion, defended that brother before 
 the public, with talent and success. But Franklin's brother 
 was a hard taskmaster, and treated him very cruelly. There 
 being no legal means of extricating himself from his inden- 
 tures, he determined to abscond, and accordingly left Bos- 
 ton for Philadelphia, where he arrived, at the age of seven- 
 teen. As he walked through the street, he bought some 
 bread from a passing baker, followed the crowd, which was 
 proceeding to church, and entering with the rest, fell asleep, 
 and was reminded that he was a stranger, alone in a strange 
 place, by the sexton awaking him, after the congrega- 
 tion had retired. In Philadelphia, he obtained employ- 
 ment as a printer, and became acquainted with the gover- 
 nor of Pennsylvania, at whose recommendation he deter- 
 mined to set up for himself; and, in order to obtain the ne- 
 cessary means, returned to Bosto.11, and made application to 
 his friends there. He was unsuccessful, and came back to 
 Philadelphia; where, buoyed up with the promises of tho 
 governor, and furnished by him with letters of introduction, 
 he started for England, to push his fortunes in its metropo- 
 lis. On his arrival, he found that the governor had deceived 
 him, and that he was in the same situation as when he first 
 entered Philadelphia. He obtained employment, however, 
 as a printer, in a very large establishment, where he acquir- 
 ed the most honourable reputation for industry and virtue. 
 He left this to return to. America, in a commercial capacity, 
 and landed once more in Philadelphia, in the twenty-first 
 year of his age. His commercial projects soon met with 
 disappointment, and he was again thrown upon his trade 
 of a printer for support. At this time, he entered into part- 
 nership with a young man, who furnished sufficient capital 
 to procure a printing press and types, and the two com- 
 menced business in their own name. But the partner of 
 Franklin was idle and dissipated, and embarrassed him ex- 
 cessively. By constant and unremitting industry, Franklin 
 was at last enabled to buy him out, and carried on the office 
 himself. From this time, may be dated his prosperity. His 
 industry was untiring, and almost incredible, and his correct 
 and grave habits soon procured him the patronage and 
 esteem of those around him. At this time, in the year 
 1730, he married, and his wife was a lady, whom he had 
 
236 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS/ 
 
 observed smiling at his ludicrous appearance, when he first 
 entered Philadelphia, and ate his roll, as he walked through 
 the streets and passed her door. During all this time, 
 Franklin was actively engaged in the prosecution of his 
 literary pursuits, and had, self-taught, acquired a competent 
 knowledge of the Latin, French and Spanish languages. 
 Several pamphlets, which he published, had been highly ap- 
 proved, and in 1732, he commenced, and continued for 
 twenty-five years, the publication of Poor Richard's Alma- 
 nac, the maxims and precepts of which have since been 
 translated into almost every language, and have obtained 
 the force and circulation of proverbs. In 1736, he was 
 chosen clerk of the General Assembly of Pennsylvania, and 
 in the following year, postmaster of Philadelphia. In 1736, 
 too, he established " The American Philosophical Society," 
 and set on foot the college, which, with subsequent modifi- 
 cations, has produced the present University of Pennsylva- 
 nia ; and in the same year, provided for his adopted state, a 
 complete system of military discipline. In 1745, Franklin 
 accidentally witnessed some trifling experiments in electri- 
 city, performed by an itinerant Scotchman, in Boston, which 
 set his mind to work upon the subject. He explained many 
 phenomena, which had never before been satisfactorily ac- 
 counted for, and made many discoveries of his own, — such 
 as the power of points, in eliciting and throwing off the 
 accumulated electric fluid, and of the negative and positive 
 states of electricity. He discovered, also, the properties of 
 the Leyden phial ; and was the first who fired gunpowder, 
 gave magnetism to needles of steel, melted metals and killed 
 animals of considerable size, by means of electricity. In 
 the course of his experiments, the idea suggested itself to 
 him, that electricity and lightning were the same ; and that 
 the phenomena of the latter, and of the Aurora Borealis, 
 might be explained by means of the facts already known of 
 the former; and in 1740, he conceived the grand, and almost 
 awful design, of drawing from the heavens their lightning, 
 and conveying its terrific energies harmless into the bowels 
 of the earth. The following account of his experiment 
 and its success, is in the words of the celebrated Dr. Priest- 
 ly. "Franklin, after having published his method of veri- 
 fying his hypothesis, concerning the sameness of electricity 
 with the matter of lightning, was waiting for the erection 
 of a spire in Philadelphia, to carry his views into execution; 
 not imagining, that a pointed rod, of a moderate height, 
 
INDUSTRY* 237 
 
 feould answer the purpose ; when it occurred to him, that 
 by means of a common kite, he could have a readier and 
 better access to the regions of thunder, than by any spire 
 whatever. Preparing, therefore, a large silk handkerchief, 
 and two cross sticks of a proper length, on which to extend 
 it, he took the opportunity of the first approaching thunder 
 storm, to take a walk into a field, in which there was a shed 
 convenient for his purpose. But dreading the ridicule, 
 which too commonly attends unsuccessful attempts in sci- 
 ence, he communicated his intended experiment to nobody 
 but his son, who assisted him in raising the kite. The kite 
 being raised, a considerable time elapsed^ before there was 
 any appearance of its being electrified. One very promis- 
 ing cloud had passed over it, without any effect; when, at 
 length, just as he was beginning to despair of his contri- 
 vance, he observed some loose threads of the hempen 
 string to stand erect, and to avoid one another, just as if 
 they had been suspended upon a common conductor. 
 Struck with this favourable appearance, he immediately pre- 
 sented his knuckle to the key, — and let the reader judge of 
 the exquisite pleasure he must have felt at that moment: — 
 the discovery was complete : he perceived a very evident 
 electric spark. Others succeeded even before the string 
 was wet; so as to put the matter beyond dispute ; and when 
 the rain had wet the string, he collected electric fire very, 
 copiously." This discovery, published to the world in let- 
 ters written by Franklin to a friend in Europe, gave him the 
 most extended reputation in England and on the continent; 
 and succeeding times owe the lightning rod, to the experi- 
 ment so timidly tested by Franklin and his son. Learned 
 societies, in America and Europe, now sought him as a 
 member; and the celebrated Button, while he disseminated 
 his discoveries, was prodigal in his praises of the American 
 philosopher. Besides his experiments in electricity, Frank- 
 lin investigated with success, the effect of oil in stilling the 
 turbulence of water under the influence of wind. He made 
 experiments to ascertain, whether boats are not drawn with 
 more difficulty in small canals, than in great bodies of water; 
 to improve the art of swimming ; and to prove that thirst 
 may be allayed by bathing in sea water. He made obser- 
 vations also, in his voyages to Europe, on the gradual pro- 
 gress of the north east storms along the. American coast, 
 contrary to the direction of the winds; and likewise, for the 
 benefit of navigation, made experiments on the course, 
 21 
 
238 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 velocity and temperature of the gulf stream. He made 
 also, curious observations upon the air; upon the relative 
 power of metals in the conducting of heat ; and upon the 
 different degrees of heat, acquired by congenial bodies of 
 various colours, from the rays of the sun. Music also, he 
 cultivated with success, and wrote many letters on that sci- 
 ence with great ingenuity; and he revived and improved the 
 harmonica, and performed with taste upon that instrument. 
 It was therefore, not without justice, that a high rank was 
 awarded to Franklin, among the philosophers and sages of 
 the day. 
 
 In 1758, he was made deputy postmaster general of 
 America; and in 1759, was appointed the agent of Penn- 
 sylvania, and soon after of Maryland, Georgia and Massa- 
 chusetts, in prosecuting their claims before the English go- 
 vernment; and in July of that year he again visited Lon- 
 don. In 1763, he returned to America, and received the 
 unanimous vote of the Legislature of Pennsylvania, thank- 
 ing him for his services, accompanied by a donation of five 
 thousand pounds. In 1764, he was again made agent of 
 Pennsylvania to Great Britain, and in the same year embark- 
 ed, and arrived for the third time in London. Availing him- 
 self of a favourable opportunity, he visited Holland and 
 France; was elected a member of the Academy of Sciences, 
 in the latter country, and was received in both with the most 
 distinguished honour. Returning from France to England, 
 he was summoned, February 3d, 1766, before the House of 
 Commons, to be publicly examined as to the state of affairs 
 in America. The examination was worthy of the man, 
 and excited great attention, when subsequently published. 
 Franklin in vain attempted to appease the increasing irrita- 
 tion between England and America. But while he told the 
 English, in all his writings, of the importance, which the 
 Americans attached to the existence of the existing rela- 
 tions, he plainly declared, that they valued freedom more 
 than peace, and that war and its concomitants were prefer- 
 able to violated rights and actual abasement. In vain did 
 the English ministry offer the "rebellious colonist," power, 
 place and pension. He was inexorably true to his trust. In 
 1774, he was ordered before the privy council, and display- 
 ed a magnanimity, which procured him the highest praise 
 from friends and opponents, by the calm and dignified man- 
 ner in which he behaved, under the ruffian-like attack of 
 Mr. Wedderburne, afterwards Lord Loughborough. 
 
INDUSTRY. 239 
 
 In speaking to Franklin, in one of the numerous consul- 
 tations, which were held with him, by the members of the 
 British ministry, Mr. Berkely, in alluding to the power of 
 Great Britain, the number of her ships, and the omnipotence 
 of her armies, to enforce the demands of Parliament, said, 
 " They will ravage your whole country, and lay your sea- 
 port towns in ashes." " The chief part of my little pro- 
 perty," replied Franklin, " consists of houses in those 
 towns. Of these, indeed, you may make bonfires, and re- 
 duce them to ashes ; but the fear of losing them, will never 
 alter my resolution, to resist, to the last, the claims of par- 
 liament." 
 
 In May, 1775, Franklin returned to Philadelphia, where 
 he was received with the most respectful esteem and affec- 
 tion, and became at once an active promoter of the various 
 arrangements, then making, preparatory to an open contest 
 with Great Britain. Immediately on his arrival, he was 
 elected a delegate to the General Congress; and was placed, 
 by it, at the head of the post office department, from which 
 he had been removed, on account of his principles, by the 
 British government. He was active in procuring the Decla- 
 ration of Independence, which he signed; and was a com- 
 missioner with Adams and Rutledge, to negotiate with 
 Lord Howe on Long Island. In 1776, he was appointed 
 president of the convention to form a governnent for the 
 State of Pennsylvania; and in October of the same year, 
 was chosen, by the General Congress, commissioner to 
 France, to obtain its assistance in the war with Great Bri- 
 tain. This, in the year 1778, was, through the exertions of 
 Franklin, publicly granted, and its result has become mat» 
 ter of general history. After residing ten years in France, 
 the ambassador and minister of the United States, now free 
 and independent, Franklin, in 1786, returned to America, 
 where the joy with which he was received, was not less 
 than the grief with which his friends in France parted from 
 him. He was now in the eighty-first year of his age, and 
 the hand of time began to press heavily upon him. He was 
 now an aged man ; but not an inactive one. In 1787, he 
 was appointed President of the Commonwealth of Penn- 
 sylvania; and in the same year, was most active in urging 
 the adoption of the federal constitution. But disease was 
 making deep inroads upon his constitution, though it did 
 not disturb the equanimity of his temper, or weaken his 
 mental faculties, Of himself, he speaks in the following 
 
240 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 words, in a letter to a friend: "You kindly inquire after 
 my health; I have not much reason to boast of it. People 
 that will live a long life, and drink to the bottom of the cup, 
 must expect to find some of the dregs. However, when I 
 consider, how many terrible diseases the human body is 
 liable to, I think myself well off, that I have *only three in- 
 curable ones, the gout, the stone, and old age. And these 
 notwithstanding,. I enjoy many comfortable- intervals, in 
 which I forget my ills, and amuse myself in reading and 
 writing, and telling as many stories as when you first knew 
 me, a young man about fifty. I have now grown so old, as 
 to have buried most of the friends of my youth. By living 
 twelve years beyond David's period, I seem to have intruded 
 myself into the company of posterity. Yet, had I gone at 
 seventy, it would have cut of twelve of the most active 
 years of my life, employed, too, in matters of great impor- 
 tance ; but whether I have been doing good or mischief, is. 
 for time to discover." When he approached to the very 
 close of his life, he said to a friend, "Death is as necessary 
 to the constitution as sleep; we shall rise refreshed in the 
 morning. The course of nature must soon put a period to 
 my present mode of existence. This I shall submit to with 
 the less regret; as, having seen, during a long life, a good 
 deal of this world, I feel a growing curiosity to become ac- 
 quainted with some other; and can cheerfully, with filial 
 confidence, resign my spirit to the conduct of that great 
 and good parent of mankind, who created it, and who has 
 so graciously protected and preserved me from my birth to 
 the present hour." 
 
 In the year 1790, then eighty-four years of age, Franklin 
 died. Congress ordered a mourning of one month for him; 
 and in France the expressions of grief were no less enthu- 
 siastic. 
 
 Speaking of Franklin, Chatham mentioned him, "as one 
 whom all Europe holds in the highest veneration, for his 
 knowledge and wisdom ; whom she ranks with her Boyles 
 and her Newtons ; who is an honour, not to the English 
 nation only, but to human nature." 
 
 The matter of this article compensates for its length. 
 The life of Franklin presents a model of talent, industry 
 and virtue, which cannot be too often placed before the 
 young, who have the plain of life still extended before; 
 them,, where to; choose a habitation and a resting place. 
 
PRIDE AND AMBITION. 241 
 
 Robert Bruce, king of Scotland, in his attempts to expel 
 the English from his inheritance, had been twelve times de- 
 feated, and, at last, became almost disheartened. Another 
 battle, however, was to be fought, and on the evening pre- 
 ceding it, the king lay in a miserable barn. He became 
 gloomy and low spirited, and turned in his mind, more than 
 once, how he could escape from the toils, which seemed to 
 surround him on every side. Suddenly his attention was 
 attracted to a spider, which was hanging from a rafter, by its 
 almost imperceptible thread. The spider was trying to 
 swing itself, so as to catch on the adjoining rafter, and made 
 twelve attempts, each of them unsuccessful, the animal still 
 returning, at each time, to its first position. "Why," says 
 Bruce to himself, "there is some likeness between my case 
 and that of the spider — we have both had twelve failures. 
 Now I will be guided in my determination to fight or re- 
 treat, by the success of the next attempt, which my neigh- 
 bour the spider makes." As it happened, the spider, by a 
 strong effort, reached the beam the thirteenth time he tried, 
 and, imitating its untiring and at last successfuLpersever- 
 ance, Bruce, in his thirteenth battle, which he fought the next 
 day, turned the fortune of war in his favour, and by an uii? 
 interrupted series of victories, emancipated Scotland. 
 
 PRIDE AND AMBITION. 
 
 There is no passion more universal than pride. It per- 
 vades all orders of society from the throne to the cottage. 
 Every individual in some point or other, conceives himself 
 superior to the rest of his species, and looks down with 
 contempt, or haughty compassion, on all who are placed be- 
 neath his imaginary superiority. 
 
 There was formerly a custom prevailing among the 
 Natchez tribe of Indians, illustrative of the ridiculous ex- 
 cess, to which this species of pride leads those, who have 
 no immediate standard, by which to arrive at an idea of 
 their comparative greatness.. The chief of the tribe was 
 accustomed to greet the sun every morning as his brother, 
 to offer him his pipe tp smoke, and pointing in the heaveo§ 
 
242 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 from east to west, told him that such was to be his course 
 during the day. 
 
 Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more 
 saucy. When you have bought one fine thing, you must 
 buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece ;. 
 but it is easier to suppress the first desire r than to satisfy all. 
 that follow it. Franklin. 
 
 He who gives himself airs of importance, exhibits cre- 
 dentials of ignorance. Lavater. 
 
 There are some benefits, which may be so conferred, as to 
 become the very refinement of revenge ; and there are some 
 evils h which we had rather bear in sullen silence, than be 
 relieved from, at the expense of our pride. In the reign of 
 Abdallah III. there was a great drought at Bagdad. The 
 Mahometan doctors issued a decree, that the prayers of 
 the faithful should be offered up for rain. The drought con- 
 tinued: the Jews were then permitted to add their prayers 
 to those of the true believers. The supplications of both 
 were ineffectual. As famine stared them in the face, those 
 dogs, the Christians, were at length enjoined also to pray. 
 It so happened, that torrents of rain immediately followed. 
 The whole conclave, with the mufti at their head, were now 
 as indignant at the cessation of the drought, as they were 
 before alarmed at its continuance. Some explanation was 
 necessary to the people, and a holy convocation was held. 
 The members of it came to this unanimous determination ; 
 that the God of their prophet was highly gratified by the 
 prayers of the faithful, and they were as incense and a 
 sweet smelling savour unto him, and that he refused their 
 requests that he might prolong the pleasure of listening to 
 their supplications:; but that the prayers of those Christian 
 infidels were an abomination to the Deity, and that he 
 granted their petitions the sooner, to get rid of their loath- 
 some importunities. Lacon. 
 
 God will excuse our prayers for ourselves, whenever we 
 are prevented from them, by being occupied in such good 
 works,, as to entitle us to the prayers of others. Lacon. 
 
PRIDE AND AMBITION. 243 
 
 When Caesar, disguised in the habit of a slave,, went to 
 meet the fleet of Anthony, a violent storm arose, which 
 threatened momentary shipwreck to the small bark, in 
 which he was. The sailors, who rowed him, were dreadfully 
 alarmed ; and the pilot was on the point of dropping the 
 helm, when Caesar approached him, and seizing him by the 
 arm, boldly said, " What dost thou fear, man ? Thou carry- 
 est Caesar and his fortunes," — as if Caesar and his fortunes- 
 were of more importance in the eye of the Divinity, than 
 the life and fortune of the meanest individual of his crew ! 
 
 In order to shew that the waves were his subjects,, or that 
 he thought so at least, Xerxes caused chains to be thrown 
 into them, to chain them. And, under the influence of a 
 similar species of pride, he ordered three hundred lashes to 
 be inflicted upon the sea, because it had the audacity to 
 break to pieces one of his bridges. 
 
 There was a soldier in one of the regiments of the king 
 of Prussia, a very handsome young man, who had long de- 
 sired to be the owner of a watch; without being able to 
 effect his wish, he finally procured a chain and seals, and 
 fastening a bullet to one end, hung it in his fob, and sported 
 it in much pride about the encampment, pretending that he 
 actually owned a watch. It came to the ears of the king, 
 and he determined to shame the foolish pride, which the 
 young man possessed, by a public reproof. So, one day,, 
 when on parade, he went up to the soldier, whose chain and 
 seals, as usual, made a great display, and said to him. "You 
 have a watch and chain. I am glad to see, that you have 
 saved enough from your pay, to be able to buy one." "The 
 chain, sire," replied the other, "is well enough; but the 
 watch is not of much signification." "By my watch," 
 continued the king, drawing out his, "it is half past five 
 o'clock. What are you?" The soldier, very much abash- 
 ed-, drew forth the bullet, and replied, "My watch, sire, 
 points neither to five nor six; but it continually reminds me, 
 that I live only for your majesty's service. It is a memento 
 not readily forgotten." The king was pleased at the reply, 
 and forgave the foolish pride, which had prompted the use- 
 less display in the first instance. 
 
244 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 A man, who could stand upon one leg for a long time, 
 once went to Lacedemon, to see the city. He met one of 
 the citizens, and at last boasted of his ability in standing on 
 one leg, adding, that the Lacedemonian could not do as 
 much. "Very probably," answered the other, "you may 
 be able to stand longer upon one leg than I can, but so can 
 a goose." It is not said that the visitor ever repeated his 
 boast. 
 
 Lowliness is young ambitions ladder, 
 Whereon the climber upwards turns his face; 
 But when he once attains the utmost round; 
 He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees, 
 By which he did ascend. Shakspeare. 
 
 Ambition makes the same mistake concerning power, 
 that avarice makes concerning wealth. She begins by ac- 
 cumulating power as a mean to happiness, and she finishes 
 by continuing to accumulate it as an end. Ambition is, in 
 fact, the avarice of power; and happiness herself is soon 
 sacrificed to that very lust of dominion, which was first en- 
 couraged only as the best mode of obtaining it. Hyder, 
 like Richard III. was observed, by one of his most familiar 
 companions, Gholaum Ali, to start frequently' in his sleep. 
 He once took the liberty to ask this despot, of what he had 
 been dreaming. "My friend," replied Hyder, "the state of 
 a beggar is more delightful than my envied monarchy. 
 Awake, they see no conspirators; asleep, they dream of no 
 assassins." 
 
 Cromwell followed little events before he ventured to go- 
 vern great ones ; and Napoleon never sighed for the sceptre, 
 until he had gained the truncheon; nor dreamed of the im- 
 perial diadem, until he had first conquered a crown. None 
 of those who gaze at the height of a successful usurper, 
 are more astonished at his elevation, "than he himself who 
 has attained it. But even he was led to it by degrees; since 
 no man aspires to that, which is entirely beyond his reach. 
 Caligula was the only tyrant, who was ever suspected of 
 longing for the moon — a proof of his madness, not of hia. 
 ambition. And if little children are observed to cry for the 
 
PRIDE AND AMBITION. 245 
 
 moon, it is because they fancy they can touch it. It is 
 beyond their desire, the moment they have discovered that 
 it is beyond their reach. Lacon* 
 
 The truly great consider first how they may gain the ap- 
 probation of God, and secondly, that of their own con- 
 science ; having done this, they would then willingly con- 
 ciliate the good opinion of their fellow men. But the truly 
 little, reverse the thing. The primary object with them is 
 to secure the applause of their fellow men, and having 
 effected this, the approbation of God and their own con- 
 science, may follow on as it can. Lacon. 
 
 Great minds would rather deserve contemporaneous ap- 
 plause, without obtaining it, than obtain without deserving 
 it; if it follow them, it is well; but they will not deviate to 
 follow it. With inferior minds the reverse is observable, so 
 that they can command the flattery of knaves while living, 
 they care not for the execrations of honest men when dead. 
 Milton neither aspired to present fame, nor even expected 
 it; but to use his own words, his high ambition, > Ve to leave 
 something so written to after* ages, that they should not 
 willingly let it die. And Cato finely observed, he would 
 much rather that posterity should inquire, why no statues 
 were erected to him, than why they were ? When Leonardo 
 du Vinci died, his sovereign T exclaimed, "I can make a 
 thousand lords, but not one Leonardo." Cicero observed 
 to a degenerate patrician, "I am the first of my family, but 
 you are the last of yours." And since his time, those who 
 value themselves merely on their ancestry, have been com- 
 pared to potatoes; all that is good of them is under the 
 ground. Perhaps it is but fair that nobility should have de- 
 scended to them, since they never could have raised them- 
 selves to it. Lckcon* 
 
 To be ambitious of true honour, of the true glory and 
 perfection of our natures, is the very principle and incen- 
 tive of virtue; but to be ambitious of titles, of place, of ce- 
 remonial respects and civil pageantry, is as vain and little 
 as the things are which we court. , Sherlock. 
 
 Ambition, that high and glorious passion which makes 
 such havoc among the sons of men, arises from a proud 
 
246 PRACTICAL READING LESSONS. 
 
 desire of honour and distinction, and when the splendid 
 trappings, in which it is usually caparisoned, are removed, 
 will be found to consist of the mean materials of envy, pride, 
 and covetousness. It is described by different authors, as 
 a gallant madness, a pleasant poison, a hidden plague, a 
 secret power, a caustic of the soul, a moth of holiness, the 
 mother of hypocrisy, and by crucifying and degrading all it 
 takes hold of, the cause of melancholy and madness. 
 
 Burton. 
 
 Worldly ambition is founded on pride or envy ; but emu- 
 lation or laudable ambition is actually founded on humility ; 
 for it evidently implies that we have a low opinion of our 
 present attainments, and think it necessary to be advanced; 
 and especially in religious concerns, it is so far from being 
 pride in a man, to wish himself spiritually better, that it is 
 highly commendable, and what we are exhorted to in many 
 parts of the bible. Bishop Hall. 
 
 Like d6gs in a wheel, birds in a cage, or squirrels in a 
 chain, an/ pi rious men still climb and climb, with great 
 labour and incessant anxiety, but never reach the top. 
 
 Burton. 
 
 To gain the favour and hear the applauses of our contain- 
 poraries, is indeed equally desirable with any -other preroga- 
 tive of superiority, because fame may be of use to smooth 
 the path of life, to terrify opposition, and fortify tranquillity; 
 but to what end shall we be the darlings of mankind, when 
 we can no longer receive any benefits from their favour? 
 It is more reasonable to wish for reputation, while it may 
 yet be enjoyed, as Anacreon calls upon his companions to 
 give him for present use, the wine and garlands, which they 
 propose to bestow upon his tomfe. Johnson. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abbas Mirza. Justice, 
 
 Abderamah, of Cordova. Religion, 
 
 Abreu, Rodrique. Generosity, 
 
 Adams, John. - 
 
 Adams, Samuel. .... 
 
 Adige, flood in the. Courage, 
 
 Afer, Domitius. Prudence, 
 
 Albuquerque. Magnanimity, 
 
 Alexander the great. Truth, 
 
 Alexander the great, intemperance of, 
 
 Alexander the great and Sysigambis. Friendship 
 
 Alfred the great. Religion, 
 
 Alfred the great, his division of time. 
 
 Alphonso of Spain and Don Garcia. Magnanimity ; 
 
 Alphonso, oath of, as king of Portugal. 
 
 Ambassadors, Roman. Fidelity, 
 
 American Judge. Justice, 
 
 American gentleman, perseverance of, 
 
 American soldier, patience of, 
 
 American lieutenant, generosity of, 
 
 Anapias and Amphinomas. Filial Piety, 
 
 Anaximenes. Religion, 
 
 Andre, Major. Fidelity, 
 
 Antigonus, of Macedon. Virtue, 
 
 Antiochus the great. Truth, 
 
 Areopagus, benevolence of the, 
 
 Aristides. Justice, - 
 
 Aristobulus, the historian. Truth, 
 
 Aristippus. Avarice, 
 
 Arragon, oath of kings of, 
 
 Artaxerxes. Justice, 
 
 Assas, Chevalier de. Courage, 
 
 Atticus, Pomponius. Filial Piety, 
 
 Augustus and Cinna. Clemency, 
 
 Avarice. - 
 
 Bannockburn. .... 
 
 Barneveldt, the sons of, Virtue, 
 
 Baxter, colonel. Courage, 
 
 Belgar, patriotic inhabitants of, 
 
 Benevolence and Humanity. 
 
 Berkely, governor, and Opecancanough. Magnanimity, 
 
 Page 
 51 
 46 
 83 
 183 
 181 
 132 
 207 
 92 
 9 
 208 
 106 
 35 
 228 
 93 
 141 
 115 
 62 
 192 
 195 
 80 
 212 
 34 
 112 
 23 
 14 
 76 
 50 
 9 
 86 
 159 
 57 
 125 
 215 
 67 
 86 
 81 
 17 
 133 
 141 
 73 
 90 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Bibulus, magnanimity of, 
 
 Boerhaave, Dr. Religion, - 
 
 Boleslas, of Poland. Filial Piety, 
 
 Bolman, aiding Lafi^-ette's escape from Olmutz. 
 
 Boston, siege of, Providential Interferences, 
 
 Bruce, Robert, humanity of, 77. Industry of, 
 
 Brutus, and his son. Justice, 
 
 Calais, siege of, 
 
 Canute, king of Denmark. Justice, 
 
 Cassimer, of Poland. Justice, 
 
 Castro, John de, Justice, 
 
 Caesar and the boatman. Pride, 
 
 Catharine of Russia, politeness of, 
 
 Carolina lady, courage of a, 
 
 Carrendeffez, Baron de, Courage, 
 
 Carthagenians and Cyrenians. Patriotism, 
 
 Charles V. of Germany. Religion. 
 
 Chase, Samuel, Justice, - 
 
 China, filial duty in, - 
 
 Chinese brothers. - 
 
 Chinese tribunal of history. Truth, 
 
 Chosroes, king of Persia. Religion, 
 
 Chess, origin of, Truth, 
 
 Christian soldier. Religion, 
 
 Charicles. Justice, - 
 
 Cicero. - 
 
 Cid Achim and Don Pedro. Generosity, 
 
 Cinna and Augustus. Clemency, 
 
 Cincinnatus. - 
 
 Citizens of Charleston, patriotic, 
 
 Clemency. .... 
 
 Clergyman, charitable, - 
 
 Courage. .... 
 
 Conjugal Affection. ... 
 
 Cochrane, Lord, Courage, 
 
 Constantine the great. Religion, 
 
 Constantius the emperor, Religion, 
 
 Croghan, major, Courage. - 
 
 Crcesus, king of Lydia, the son of, Filial Piety, 
 
 Cucho, the sons of, Fraternal Affection, 
 
 Cyrus, industry of 
 
 Cyrus and Panthea. Virtue, - - 
 
 Damon and Pythias, Friendship, 
 
 Dancer, Daniel, Avarice, 
 
 Demetrius Phalerus. Virtue, 
 
 Demosthenes. Virtue, 
 
 Devizes, weaver of, Gratitude, 
 
 Declaration of Independence, signing of the, 
 
 Democritus and Euphemion. Prudence, 
 
 Decimus and Decius, Filial Piety, 
 
 De Retz, Cardinal, Presence of Mind, • 
 
INDEX. 9 
 
 Page. 
 
 Dionysius the tyrant. Truth, - - 10 
 
 Doria, Andrew, - - - - • 145 
 
 Douglass and Randolph. Generosity. - - - 18 
 
 Drusus, Julius. Virtue, .... 23 
 
 Edward I. of England, filial piety of, - 215 
 
 English gentleman, generosity of, - - 84 
 
 English soldier. Gratitude, . - - 101 
 Epaminondas. Truth 11, Virtue 19, Patriotism 137, Filial Piety, 212 
 
 Epictetus the stoic. Patience, - - - - 194 
 
 Erie, fort, siege of. Courage, - - - 123 
 
 Fabricius. Fidelity, - - - - -116 
 
 Famagosta, women at the siege of, Conjugal Affection, 219 
 
 Fidelity. - - - - - - - HI 
 
 Filial Piety. ----.- 209 
 
 Franklin, sketch of, - - • - 234 
 
 Fraternal affection. - - - - - 221 
 
 French female, courage of a, .... 134 
 
 French ensign, fidelity of, - - - 113 
 
 Freitaz, Martin, fidelity of, - 111 
 
 Friend, Dr. Friendship, - - • • 109 
 
 Friendship. - - - - - -104 
 
 Frederick of Prussia and his page. Integrity, - 96 
 
 Frederick of Prussia. Justice, - - - - 50 
 
 Frederick, generosity of, - - 74-75 
 
 Gadsden, colonel, patriotism of, - - - 173-185 
 
 Gaming. - - - - . - 56 
 
 Gascoigne, chief justice, Justice and Fortitude, - 58 
 
 Germany, emperor of, Virtue, - - . 26 
 Generosity.. ---».. 79 
 
 Gerry, Eldridge, saying and death of, - - 172 
 
 Gibbs, Miss Mary, Courage, . - - - - 133 
 
 Governor of Virginia, politeness of, ... 201 
 Gratitude. ...... 99 
 
 Gracchus, Caius, Friendship, ... 105 
 
 Grenadier, courage of a, - - - - - 128 
 
 Grotius and his wife. Conjugal Affection, - r 218 
 
 Guilford, battle of, Courage, - 122 
 
 Gustavus Adolphus. ..... 33-153 
 
 Hancock, John, -...<,. 174 
 
 Hassan and Moavias. Magnanimity, - - - 93 
 
 Henry, Patrick, Patriotism, - . - 164 
 
 Henry III. at Ivri. Courage, .... 130 
 
 Highland integrity. - - - = 98 
 
 Hiero, king of Syracuse. Truth, ... 9 
 
 Honorius and Arcadius. Revpect to old age, - - 120 
 
 Huger, colonel Francis H, and Lafayette. - - 186 
 Hyder Ali. Ambition, ..... 244 
 
 Indian acuteness. Justice, - - - - 61 
 
 Indostan, king of, Ingratitude, - - - 103 
 
 Industry, 226. Magic of, - - - 228 
 
 Ingratitude. - - - - - .102 
 
10 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Integrity. ... 
 
 Intemperance. ... 
 
 Irish merchant, justice of an, - - - - 
 
 Jasper, sergeant, Patriotism, .... 
 
 Joan, queen of Naples. Politeness, * - - 
 
 Justice. - - 
 
 Justin, the emperor, minister of. Justice, 
 King's mountain, battle of, Patriotism, 
 Lacedemonian women, patriotic expression of, 
 Lacedemonian retort. Pride, - 
 Lacedemonian politeness. Respect to old age, 
 Lafa}^ette. Clemency, - - - - ' 
 
 Lafayette, generosity of, 
 
 Lafayette, escape of, from Olmutz, - 
 
 Laurens, colonel John, conduct of at Paris, - 
 
 Lawrence, captain, Courage, . 
 
 Long Island, battle of, and retreat, Providential Interference, 
 
 Louis, Dauphin of France. Virtue, - 
 
 Louis XI. and the countryman's turnip. Avarice, 
 
 Louis XII. of France, and Lalviene. Clemency, - 
 
 Louis XIV. and his officer. Fidelity, 
 
 Louis XIV. and Cardinal d'Estrees. Fidelity, 
 
 Louis XV., humanity of, 
 
 Lucilius Licinius. Friendship, ------ 
 
 Lusitanian heroines. Conjugal Affection, 
 
 Magdalene, queen of France. Respect to old age, 
 
 Magnanimity, 89. Strong instance of, 
 
 M'Kean, judge, Justice, - 
 
 Mahadi, the caliph, Religion, 
 
 Mahmoud, the sultan, Virtue, 
 
 Mahometan pride. 
 
 Marion, general, Fidelity, 
 
 Marion. Patriotism, - 
 
 Marian. Justice, 
 
 Mason,- Sir John, Religion, - 
 
 Manning, presence of mind of, 
 
 Mausolus, king of Caria, wife of, 
 
 Mansfield, lord, and the merchant. Justice 
 
 Maurice, prince of Orange. Virtue, 
 
 Metellus Numidicus. Virtue, 
 
 Moore, Sir Thomas, Fidelity, 
 
 Moldavian soldier. Courage, 
 
 Moon, lieutenant, Courage, 
 
 Mongarten, heights of, Patriotism, 
 
 Motte, patriotism of Mrs., < - 
 
 Montilla, Madame, Patriotism, - 
 
 Moderation. - 
 
 Mutius Sceevola. Patriotism, 
 
 Natchez Indians, custom of the, Pride, 
 
 Nelson, American general. Patriotism, 
 
 Nero. Virtue, - 
 
 Page. 
 
 95 
 
 207 
 
 55 
 
 185 
 
 202 
 
 49 
 
 60 
 
 168 
 
 136 
 
 244 
 
 118 
 
 69 
 
 85 
 
 186 
 
 168 
 
 121 
 
 71 
 
 20 
 
 87 
 
 68 
 
 113 
 
 112 
 
 78 
 
 104 
 
 219 
 
 118 
 
 91 
 
 63 
 
 38 
 
 28 
 
 242 
 
 116 
 
 171 
 
 52 
 
 37 
 
 224-225 
 
 218 
 
 .: 53 
 
 17 
 
 25 
 
 114 
 
 - 129 
 133 
 
 - 148 
 167 
 
 - 194 
 191 
 
 - 136 
 241 
 
 - 173 
 28 
 
 51- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 11 
 
 Numa. Virtue, - 
 
 21 
 
 Old age, respect to, - 
 
 117 
 
 Olympias, mother of Alexander. Filial Piety, - 
 
 213 
 
 Orleans, duke of, Religion, 
 
 40 
 
 Oxenstiern, chancellor, Religion, 
 
 39 
 
 Pacheco, governor of Celorica. Fidelity, 
 Paoli. Virtue, - 
 
 116 
 
 18 
 
 Patriotism. - 
 
 135 
 
 Patience, ode to, - 
 
 197 
 
 Patience and moderation. - 
 
 191 
 
 Parga, patriots of - 
 
 162 
 
 Persian monarch. Truth, 12. Virtue, 
 
 19 
 
 Pedro, Don, of Spain. Religion, 
 
 40 
 
 Pedro, Don, and Cid Achim. Generosity, - 
 
 82 
 
 Penn, William. Religious Fortitude. 
 
 42 
 
 Pedaretus. Patriotism, ... 
 
 148 
 
 Peter the great. Industry, 
 Philip of Macedon. Truth, 
 
 230-233 
 
 10 
 
 Philoxenes. Truth, 
 
 10 
 
 Philopsemen. Virtue, - 
 
 24 
 
 Philipsburg, siege of, Virtue, 
 
 29 
 
 Phocion. Justice, - 
 
 49 
 
 Phocion. Patriotism, - 
 
 147 
 
 Philip, and the Athenian ambassadors. Clemetu 
 
 :y, 68 
 
 Piso. Virtue, - 
 
 28 
 
 Pinckney, C. C, patriotic conduct of, 
 
 171 
 
 Pinckney, Thomas, Patriotism, - 
 
 lb. 
 
 Pliny, filial piety of, - 
 
 209 
 
 Politeness. .... 
 
 198 
 
 Portuguese brothers. - 
 
 216 
 
 Providential interferences. 
 
 70 
 
 Private soldier, magnanimity of, 
 
 91 
 
 Prudence and temperance. 
 
 203 
 
 Presence of mind. .... 
 
 223 
 
 Pride and ambition. ... 
 
 241 
 
 Prussian soldier, pride of, - 
 
 243 
 
 Ptolemxus, king of Cyprus. Avarice, - 
 
 88 
 
 Putnam, general, Generosity, 
 
 80 
 
 Putnam, general, Patriotism, 
 
 170 
 
 Publius Rutilius. Friendship, 
 
 104 
 
 Quebec, attack on, Presence of mind, - 
 
 223 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, Patience, 
 
 192 
 
 Religion. - 
 
 31 
 
 Religious fortitude. ... 
 
 42 
 
 Reding, Aloys, Patriotism, 
 
 148 
 
 Representative, duty of a, - 
 
 189 
 
 Rebel, character of a, - 
 
 190 
 
 Roman daughter, - 
 
 211 
 
 Roberts, colonel Owen, Patriotism, 
 
 168 
 
 Russel, Lord, Virtue, ... 
 
 20 
 
 Rush, Dr. Benjamin, Magnanimity, 
 
 94 
 
 Russian princess. Respect to old age, 
 
 119 
 
12 INDEX, 
 
 Sanchez, Martin, Generosity, *§f 
 
 Saturninus. Virtue, - - „ . 25 
 
 Scholar at Paris, filial piety of, ... 210 
 Schappach, Michael, and the Russian princess. Respect to old 
 
 age, - - - . . 119 
 
 Sharp, Archbishop, murder of, ... 47 
 
 Simonides. Justice, - 5q 
 
 Sigismund, magnanimity of, - . . 91 
 
 Smyrna magistrate and his father. Justice, - 57 
 
 Socrates. Justice, ----- 50 
 
 S oliman II. Justice, - 52 
 
 Solon, laws of, Filial piety, - - - - 216 
 
 Spanish brothers. - 222 
 
 Statue, the first gilded, erected, - - . 213 
 
 Stair, Lord, politeness of, - - - . 199 
 
 Suli, patriots of, - . . . - 159 
 
 Sultan, stern justice of a, - 52 
 
 Superstition. ---... 47 
 
 Syllery, chancellor, Patience, - . . 195 
 
 Tarleton, colonel, treacherous conduct of, - - 169 
 
 Tell, William, - - . - . 142 
 
 Thesca, wife of Polyxenes. - 220 
 
 Toby, my uncle, benevolence of, - - - 77 
 
 Trajan, the emperor, Justice - - - 57 
 
 Truth. ------ 9 
 
 Vespasian, the emperor, Virtue, - - - 18 
 
 Viegas, Laurent. Religion, « 41 
 
 Vienna, siege of, Courage, - • - - - 130 
 
 Virtue. ------ 15 
 
 Washington, George, sketch of, - 176 
 Washington and Arnold. Generosity, 
 
 Washington, magnanimity of, - - 90 
 
 Washington, humanity of, - - - 75 
 
 Washington, col. Wm. Courage, 123. Character of, 167 
 
 Washington, colonel William s generosity of, - 84» 
 
 Wallace, William, - - - - - 154 
 
 Weinsperg, ladies of, Conjugal Jlffection, - - 219 
 
 Whipple, general, and his slave. Generosity, 
 
 Widow of Japan, sons of the, - 213 
 
 Williams, William. Patriotism, - - - 184 
 
 William the Conqueror. Courage, • 128 
 
 William the Conqueror, burial of, Justice, 
 
 Wilson, Dr., benevolence of, - 
 
 Witchcraft. Superstition, - 
 
 Wolsey. Religion, ...... 
 
 Wolsey. Gratitude, ----- 100 
 
 Wolfe. Courage, - - - - - 131 
 
 Worcester, bishop of, politeness of - • 
 
 Xerxes, attempting to chain the waves. - - 243 
 
 H 148 82 
 
s% 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^tf 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 ...% 
 
 
 • ^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
 % Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 
 Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 
 
 * . 6 J^** ^ PreservationTechnologies 
 
 * 'vS^^H^'* ' A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 
 
 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
 Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
 (724) 779-21 1 1 
 

 
 
 
 ,i 
 
 i 
 
 ^ MAY 82 
 
 N. MANCHESTER, 
 : ^S^ r INDIANA 46962 
 
 >* A V ^ 
 
 * ^ ^ 
 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 013 610 243 6