ments 3 will appear as trifling, and of as little consequence as the rules by which children regulate their childish little games and pastime. True it is, that philosophy makes us wiser, but Christianity makes us better men. Philosophy elevates and steels the mind, Christianity softens and sweetens it. The former makes us the objects of human admiration, the latter of divine love. That insures us a temporal, but this an eternal happiness. I had spent about four years in the most delightful manner to myself, totally given up to contemplation, and entirely unembarrassed with the affairs of the world, when I lost the best of fathers, and one whom I so entirely loved, that my grief at his loss exceeds all description. I now abandoned my books, and gave myself up for a whole month to the efforts of melancholy and despair. Time, however, the best physician of the mind, at length brought me relief. I then betook myself again to my former studies, which I may say perfected my cure: for philosophy and religion may be called the exercises of the mind, and, when this is disordered, they are as wholesome as exercise can be to a distempered body. They do indeed produce similar effects with exercise: for they strengthen and confirm the mind; till man becomes, in the noble strain of Horace, Fortis, et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus, Externi ne quid valeat per laeve morari; 141. Tobias George Smollett. 1721-1771. (History, p. 182.) THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. We set out from Glasgow, by the way of Lanark, the county town of Clydesdale, in the neighbourhood of which the whole river Clyde, rushing down a steep rock, forms a very noble and stupendous cascade. Next day we were obliged to halt in a small borough, until the carriage, which had received some damage, should be repaired; and here we met with an incident which warmly interested the benevolent spirit of Mr. Bramble. As we stood at the window of an inn that fronted the public prison, a person arrived on horse back, genteelly though plainly dressed in a blue frock, with his own hair cut short, and a gold-laced hat upon his head. Alighting, and giving his horse to the landlord, he advanced to an old man who was at work in paving the street, and accosted him in these words "This is hard work for such an old man as you." So saying, he took the instrument out of his hand, and began to thump the pavement. After a few strokes," Had you never a son," said he, "to ease you of this labour?" "Yes, an' please your honour," replied the senior, "I have three hopeful lads, but at present they are out of the way." "Honour not me," cried the stranger; "it more becomes me to honour your gray hairs. Where are those sons you talk of?" The ancient paviour said, his eldest son was a captain in the East Indies, and the youngest had lately enlisted as a soldier, in hopes of prospering like his brother. The gentleman desiring to know what was become of the second, he wiped his eyes, and owned he had taken upon him his old father's debts, for which he was now in the prison hard by. The traveller made three quick steps towards the jail; then turning short, "Tell me," said he, "has that unnatural captain sent you nothing to relieve your distresses?" "Call him not unnatural," replied the other, "God's blessing be upon him! he sent me a great deal of money,' but I made a bad use of it; I lost it by being security for a gentleman that was my landlord, and was stripped of all I had in the world besides." At that instant a young man, thrusting out his head and neck between two iron bars in the prison-window, exclaimed, "Father! father! if my brother William is in life, that's he." "I am! I am!" cried the stranger, clasping the old man in his arms, and shedding a flood of tears; "I am your son Willy, sure enough!" Before the father, who was quite confounded, could make any return to this tenderness, a decent old woman, bolting out from the door of a poor habitation, cried, "Where is my bairn? where is my dear Willy?" The captain no sooner beheld her than he quitted his father, and ran into her embrace. I can assure you, my uncle who saw and heard everything that passed, was as much moved as any one of the parties concerned in this pathetic recognition. He sobbed, and wept, and clapped his hands, and holloed, and finally ran down into the street. * * * 1. Money, Fr. monnaie, Sp, moneda, comes from Lat. moneta, because the Roman mint was in the temple of Juno Moneta. My uncle was so charmed with the character of Captain Brown, that he drank his health three times successively at dinner. He said he was proud of his acquaintance; that he was an honour to his country, and had in some measure redeemed human nature from the reproach of pride, selfishness, and ingratitude. For my part I was as much pleased with the modesty as with the filial virtue of this honest soldier, who assumed no merit from his success, and said very little of his own transactions, though the answers he made to our inquiries were equally sensible and laconic. 142. Laurence Sterne. 1713-1768. (History, p. 183.) DEATH OF LE FEVRE. In a fortnight or three weeks, added my uncle Toby, smiling-he might march.-He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world, said the corporal. He will march, said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed with one shoe off: - An' please your honour, said the corporal, he will never march but to his grave:- He shall march, cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch, - he shall march to his regiment. - He cannot stand it, said the corporal. He shall be supported, said my uncle Toby. He'll drop at last, said the corporal, and what will become of his boy? firmly. Ah welladay, - do what we can for him, said Trim, maintaining his point, the poor soul will die. He shall not die, by G-d! cried my uncle Toby. He shall not drop, said my uncle Toby, - The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to Heaven's chancery with the oath, blush'd as he gave it in — and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropp'd a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever. My uncle Toby went to his bureau-put his purse1 into his breeches' pocket, and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician - he went to bed, and fell asleep. 1. Purse, properly a pouch made of leather, fr. L. L. lyrsa, Gk. Búpoa. The sun look'd bright the morning after to every eye in the village but le Fevre's, and his afflicted son's; the hand of Death pressed heavy upon his eyelids, and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose 2 up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side, and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did - how he had rested in the night what was his complaint - where was his pain- and what he could do to help him?- and without giving him time to answer any one of the inquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him. - You shall go home directly, le Fevre, said my uncle Toby, to my house and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter · and we'll have an apothecary, and the corporal shall be your nurse, and I'll be your servant, le Fevre. There was a frankness in my uncle Toby,-not the effect of familiarity, but the cause of it, which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature; to this, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, the son had insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards him. The blood and spirits of le Fevre, which were waxing cold and slow within hím, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart, rallied back, - the film forsook his eyes for a moment, he looked up wistfully in my uncle Toby's face- then cast a look upon his boy, - and that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken. the film returned to its stopp'd - mov'd went on shall stopp'd times. Witness broke for broken, forgot for forgotten, unsmote for unsmitten, &c. Oliver Goldsmith. 1728-1774. (History, p. 185.) 143. A FABLE. Once upon a time, a Giant and a Dwarf were friends, and kept together. They made a bargain that they would never forsake each other, but go seek adventures. The first battle they fought was with two Saracens, and the Dwarf, who was very courageous, dealt one of the champions a most angry blow. It did the Saracen but very little injury, who lifting up his sword, fairly struck off the poor Dwarf's arm. He was now in a woeful plight; but the Giant coming to his assistance, in a short time left the two Saracens dead on the plain, and the Dwarf cut off the dead man's head out of spite. They then travelled on to another adventure. This was against three bloody-minded Satyrs, who were carrying away a damsel1 in distress. The Dwarf was not quite so fierce now as before; but for all that, struck the first blow; which was returned by another, that knocked out his eye: but the Giant was soon up with them, and had they not fled, would certainly have killed them every one. They were all very joyful for this victory, and the damsel who was relieved fell in love with the Giant, and married him. They now travelled far, and farther than I can tell, till they met with a company of robbers. The Giant, for the first time, was foremost now; but the Dwarf was not far behind. The battle was stout and long. Wherever the Giant came, all fell before him; but the Dwarf had like to have been killed more than once. At last the victory declared for the two adventurers: but the Dwarf lost his leg. The Dwarf had now lost an arm, a leg, and an eye, while the Giant was without a single wound. Upon which he cried out to his little companion ; "My little hero, this is glorious sport; let us get one victory more, and then we shall have honour for ever."-"No," cries the Dwarf, who was by this time grown wiser, "no, I declare off; I'll fight no more: for I find in every battle that you get all the honour and rewards, but all the blows fall upon me.' 1. Damsel, fr. Fr. demoiselle, presupposes a L. L. dominicella, a diminutive of domina. |