prayers to the lofty supplications of his mother, he turned to her with bitterness of soul, and said: "O my mother, thou hast saved Rome, but destroyed thy son!" So he drew off his army, and the women went back to Rome and were hailed as the saviours of their country. And the Senate ordered a temple to be built on the spot where Coriolanus had yielded, and dedicated to "Woman's Fortune" (Fortuna Muliebris); and Valeria was the first priestess of the temple. But Coriolanus returned to dwell among the Volscians; and Tullius, who had before become jealous of his superiority, excited the people against him, saying that he had purposely spared their great enemy the city of Rome, even when it was within their grasp. So he lost favour, and was slain in a tumult; and the words he had spoken to his mother were truly fulfilled. LEGEND OF CINCINNATUS AND THE EQUIANS. In the course of the Equian wars, Minucius, one of the Consuls of the year 458 B. C., suffered himself to be cut off from Rome in a narrow valley of Mount Algidus, and it seemed as if hope of delivery there was none. However, five horsemen found means to escape and report at Rome the perilous_condition of the Consul and his army. Then the other Consul referred the matter to the Senate, and it was agreed that the only man who could deliver the army was L. Quinctius Cincinnatus. Therefore this man was named Dictator, and deputies were sent to acquaint him with his high dignity. Now this Lucius Quinctius was called Cincinnatus, because he wore his hair in long curling locks (cincinni); and, though he was a Patrician, he lived on his own small farm, like any plebeian yeoman. This farm was beyond the Tiber in the Vatican district; and here he lived contentedly with his wife Racilia. Three years before he had been reduced to poverty by the necessity of paying the bailmoney forfeited by his son Kæso, a wild and insolent young man, who despised the Plebeians and hated their Tribunes; like Coriolanus he was impeached by one of the Tribunes for acts of insolence and violence against the people. His father interceded for him, and was likely to have prevailed, when one Volscius Fictor alleged that his brother, an old and sickly man, had been attacked by Kæso and a party of young Patricians by night in the Suburra, and had died of the treatment then received. The indignation of the people rose high; and Kæso, again like Coriolanus, fled from Rome. Next year all Rome was alarmed by finding that the Capitol had been seized by an enemy during the night. This enemy was Appius Herdonius, a Sabine, and with him was associated a band of desperate men, exiles and runaway slaves. The Consul, P. Valerius, collected a force, and took the Capitol; but he was himself killed in the assault, and L. Quinctius Cincinnatus, father of the banished Kæso, was chosen to succeed him. When he heard the news of his elevation, he turned to his wife and said: "I fear, Racilia, our little field must remain this year unsown." Then he assumed the robe of state, and went to Rome. Now it was believed that Kæso had been concerned in the desperate enterprise that had just been defeated. Perhaps he fell in the assault of the Capitol; at all events, he is heard of no more. His father was very bitter against the Tribunes and their party, to whom he attributed his son's disgrace, and he used all the power of the Consulate to thwart the Tribunes. At the end of his year of office, however, when the Patricians wished to continue him in the consulship, he warned them against setting an example of violating the constitution, and returned to his rustic life as if he had never left it. It was two years after these events, that the deputies of the Senate, who came to invest him with the ensigns of dictatorial power, found him working on his little farm. He was clad in his tunic only; and as the deputies advanced, they bade him put on his toga, that he might receive the commands of the Senate in seemly disguise. So he wiped off the dust and sweat, the signs of labour, and bade his wife fetch his toga, and asked anxiously whether all was right or no. Then the deputies told him how the army was beset by the Equian foe, and how the Senate looked on him as the saviour of the state. A boat was provided to carry him over the Tiber; and when he reached the other bank, he was greeted by the Senate, who attended him to the City, while he himself walked in state, with his four-and-twenty lictors. Next day Cincinnatus chose L. Tarquitius as his Master of the Horse. This man was a Patrician, but. like the Dictator himself, was poor,-so poor, that he could not TRENCHER FRIENDS. afford to keep a horse, but was obliged to serve among the foot soldiers. That same day the Dictator and his Master of the Horse, came down into the Forum, • ordered all the shops to be shut, and all business to be suspended. All men of the military age were to meet them in the Field of Mars before sunset, each man with five days' provisions and twelve stakes; the elder men were to see to the provisions, while the soldiers were preparing the stakes. Thus all was got ready in time: the Dictator led them forth, and they marched so rapidly that by night they had reached Mount Algidus, where the army of the Consul was hemmed in. Then the Dictator, when he had discovered the place of the enemy's army, ordered his men to put all their baggage down in one place and then to surround the enemy's camp. They obeyed, and each one raising a shout, began digging a trench and fixing his stakes, so as to form a palisade round the enemy. The Consul's army, which was hemmed in, heard the shout of their brethren, and flew to arms; and so hotly did they fight all night, that the Equians had no time to attend to the new foe, and next morning they found themselves hemmed in on all sides by the trench and palisade, so that they were now between two Roman armies. They were thus forced to surrender. The Dictator required them to give up their chiefs, and made their whole army pass under the yoke, which was formed by three spears fixed upright in the ground, and a fourth bound across them at the top. Cincinnatus returned to Rome amid the shouts and exultation of the rescued soldiers they gave him a golden crown, in token that he had saved the lives of many citizens; and the Senate decreed that he should enter the city in triumph. N. Y., May 31, 1819. TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD. [* WALT WHITMAN, born at West Hills, Long Island, He learned printing and subsequently the carpenter's trade. Later he taught school and for brief periods edited papers in New Orleans and Huntington, L. I. His poetical writings are by some critics highly lauded and by others strongly condemned His Leaves of Grass, appeared in 1855; Drum-Tapą, in 1865; and Two Rivulets, in 1873. From his very unequal productions we select the following gem:] Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm, Waking renewed on thy prodigious pinions, And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee,) (Myself a speck, a point on the world's floating vast). After the night's fierce drifts have strewn the shore with Thou born to match the gale (thou art all wings), At dusk thou look'st on Senegal, at morn America, Many are trencher-friends; few adhere to So Cincinnatus accomplished the purpose thee in matters of difficulty. Nothing is for which he had been made Dictator in harder to detect than a soul, of base alloy, twenty-four hours. One evening he march-O Cyrurs', and nothing of more value than ed forth to deliver the Consul, and the next evening he returned victorious. But he would not lay down his high office till he had avenged his son Kæso. Accordingly he summoned Volscius Fictor, the accuser, and had him tried for perjury. The man was condemnned and went into exile; and then Cincinnatus once more returned to his wife and farm. WISDOM is to the soul what health is to the body. ROCHEFOUCAULD. caution. The loss of alloyed gold and silver may be borne; it is easy for a shrewd intellect to discover its real quality; but if a friend's heart be secretly untrue, and a treacherous heart be within him, this is the falsest thing that the gods have made for man, and this is the hardest of all to discover. For thou canst not know man's mind or woman's either, before thou hast proved it, like a beast of burden. *Walt Whitman's complete works, published by D. McKay, Philadelphia, 1887. For man too has his youth, which, when He wanders feebly on his pilgrimage— THOMAS BRYDSON. THE SHEPHERDS' GOLDEN AGE.1 [William Browne, born at Tavistock, 1590; died, 1645. The author of Britannia's Pastorals, the Shepherd's Pipe, and other poems, is now almost forgotten. But in his own time he was popular, and won the highest compliments from Selden, Drayton, Jonson, and many others. Milton is said to have made a study of his style, which was modelled upon that of the Italian writers, and is in consequence marred by far-fetched conceits. Milton's Lycidas and Browne's Philarete are sometimes compared with no discredit to the latter.] O! the golden age Met all contentment in no surplusage Served them for bed and covering when they If any softer lay, 'twas (by the loss Of some rock's warmth) on thick and spongy moss, Or on the ground; some simple wall of clay Unknown was then the Phrygian broidery, Russet or white, or those mix'd, and no more: The Arras hangings round their comely halls made; Their homely cots deck'd trim in low degree, The daisy scatter'd on each mead and down, And many hundreds more that graced the Gardens and groves (where beautious Flora Were by the Shepherds' daughters (as yet are 1 From Britannia's Pastorals (song iii. book ii.), by A bloody stream into a blushing run William Browne. And end still with the colour which begun, THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. 733 Drawing the deeper to a lighter stain, Bringing the highest to the deep'st again. With such rare art each mingleth with his fellow, THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. [Sir Richard Steele, born in Dublin, 1671; died at The blue with watchet, green and red with Llangunnor, near Caermarthen, Wales, 1st September, yellow; Like to the changes which we daily see Where none can say (tho' he it strict attends), Using such cunning as they did dispose eye Could not the manner of their mixtures spy. Then with those flowers they most of all did prize (With all their skill and in most curious wise And that the after world should strive in vain As of their songs, so of their lives they deem'd, ever, But as life was ordain'd they might persevere. The hatred which they bore was only this, That every one did hate to do amiss. Their fortune still was subject to their will: 1729. He is distinguished as the "first of the British periodical essayists." He originated the Tatler, and of its 271 numbers he wrote 164; and Addison wrote 36. The Spectator, Guardian, Rambler, and other periodicals, were subsequently published on the model of the Tatler. Few men have acted so many different parts in life: he was a soldier, a writer of comedies, and the author of The Christian Hero-composed, it is said, chiefly for his own edification; he was a member of parliament, a commissioner of forfeited estates in Scotland (1715), and the patentee of the Royal Company of Comedians. The following is an excellent summary of his character and life: "Steele was one of the most amiable and one of the most improvident of men. His precepts were far better than his practice; his principles proved no match for his tastes. Often sinning, often repenting, always good-natured, and generally in debt, he multiplied troubles as few men will, and bore them better than most men can."] Charity is a virtue of the heart, and not of the hands, says an old writer. Gifts and alms are the expressions, not the essence, of this virtue. A man may bestow great sums on the poor and indigent without being charitable, and may be charitable when he is not able to bestow anything. Charity is therefore a habit of good-will, or benevolence, in the soul, which disposes us to the love, assistance, and relief of mankind, especially of those who stand in need of it. The poor man who has this excellent frame of mind is no less entitled to the reward of this virtue than the man who founds a college. For my own part, I am charitable to an extravagance this way. I never saw an indigent person in my life without reaching out to him some of this imaginary relief. I cannot but sympathize with every one I meet that is in affliction; and if my abilities were equal to my wishes, there should be neither pain nor poverty in the world. To give my reader a right notion of myself in this particular, I shall present him with the secret history of one of the most remarkable parts of my life. I was once engaged in search of the philosopher's stone. It is frequently observed of men who have been busied in this pursuit, that though they have failed in their principal design, they have however made such discoveries in their way to it as have sufficiently recompensed their inquiries. In the same manner, though I cannot boast of my success in that affair, I do not repent of my engaging in it, because it produced in my mind such an habitual exercise of charity as made it much better than perhaps it would have been had I never been lost in so pleasing a delusion. As I did not question but I should soon have a new Indies in my possession, I was perpetually taken up in considering how to turn it to the benefit of mankind. In order to it I employed a whole day in walking about this great city to find out proper places for the erection of hospitals. I had likewise entertained that project, which has since succeeded in another place, of building churches at the court-end of the town, with this only difference, that instead of fifty, I intended to have built a hundred, and to have seen them all finished in less than one year. I had with great pains and application got together a list of all the French Protestants; and, by the best accounts I could come at, had calculated the value of all those estates and effects which every one of them had left in his own country for the sake of his religion, being fully determined to make it up to him, and return some of them double of what they had lost. As I was one day in my laboratory, my operator, who was to fill my coffers for me, and used to foot it from the other end of the town every morning, complained of a sprain in his leg that he had met with over-against St. Clement's Church. This so affected me, that as a standing mark of my gratitude to him, and out of compassion to the rest of my fellow-citizens, I resolved to new-pave every street within the liberties, and entered a memorandum in my pocket-book accordingly. About the same time I entertained some thoughts of mending all the highways on this side the Tweed, and of making all the rivers in England navigable. But the project I had most at heart was the settling upon every man in Great Britain three pounds a year (in which sum may be comprised, according to Sir William Pettit's observations, all the necessities of life), leaving to them what ever else they could get by their own industry to lay out on superfluities. I was above a week debating in myself what I should do in the matter of impropriations, but at length came to a resolution to buy them all up, and restore them to the church. As I was one day walking near St. Paul's, I took some time to survey that structure, and not being entirely satisfied with it, though I could not tell why, I had some thoughts of pulling it down, and building it up anew at my own expense. For my own part, as I have no pride in me, I intended to take up with a coach and six, half a dozen footmen, and live like a private gentleman. It happened about this time that public matters looked very gloomy, taxes came hard, the war went on heavily, people complained of the great burdens that were laid upon them. This made me resolve to set aside one morning to consider seriously the state of the nation. I was the more ready to enter on it, because I was obliged, whether I would or no, to sit at home in my morning-gown, having, after a most incredible expense, pawned a new suit of clothes, and a full-bottomed wig, for a sum of money, which my operator assured me was the last he should want to bring all our matters to bear. After having considered many projects, I at length resolved to beat the common enemy at his own weapons, and laid a scheme which would have blown him up in a quarter of a year had things succeeded to my wishes. As I was in this golden dream somebody knocked at my door. I opened it, and found it was a messenger that brought me a letter from the laboratory. The fellow looked so miserably poor that I was resolved to make his fortune before he delivered his message. But seeing he brought a letter from my operator, I concluded I was bound to it in honour, as much as a prince is, to give a reward to one that brings him the first news of a victory. I knew this was the long-expected hour of projection, and which I had waited for with great impatience above half a year before. In short, I broke open my letter in a transport of joy, and found it as follows: "SIR,-After having got out of you everything you can conveniently spare, I scorn to trespass upon your generous nature, and therefore must ingenuously confess to you that I know no more of the philosopher's stone than you do. I shall only tell you for your comfort, of his money. They must be men of wit and that I could never yet bubble a blockhead out parts who are for my purpose. apply myself to a person of your wealth and ingenuity. How I have succeeded you yourself can best tell.-Your humble Servant to command, This made me "THOMAS WHITE. "I have locked up the laboratory, and laid the key under the door." I was very much shocked at the unworthy treatment of this man, and not a little mortified at my disappointment, though not so much for what I myself as what the public suffered by it. I think, however, I ought to let the world know what I designed for them, and hope that such of my readers who find they had a share in my good intentions will accept of the will for the deed. |