THE ICILIUS. HE intolerable oppression of the patricians, to which, was now added the tyranny of the Decemvirs, had excited a spirit of rancor in the breasts of the Roman commons, which was gradually extending itself to the entire army that now lay encamped in a strong position within sight of the enemy. But so sullen was their temper that the generals feared to lead them from their intrenchments, and the only barrier to open mutiny seemed to be the absence of special provocation, or the lack of a leader. Upon the slopes of Crustumeria hung the dark masses of the Roman [their] legions, while the watch-fires of their enemy, gleaming through heavy masses of foliage, lit up the vales below. But the haughty joy with which these stern warriors were wont to hail the hour of conflict no longer thrilled the soldiers' breasts. By the dim light of stars, men spake in whispers; and murmurs, waxing louder as the night wore on, like the hollow moan of surf before the gathering tempest, rose on the midnight air. Just as the red light, touching, tinged the mountain summits, a warrior, clad in a gory mantle from which the blood, slow dripping, had stained his armor and clotted upon his horse's mane, rode down the sentry, and, bursting into the midst of the camp, shouted, "Soldiers, protect a tribune of the people!" Those pregnant words, associated with all of liberty the commons If the first paragraph be spoken, the speaker will here use the reading in brackets, instead of "the Roman." had ever known, were to the chafed spirits of the soldiery as fire to the flax. From every quarter of the camp trumpets sounded to arms, the clash of steel mingled with the tramp of hurrying feet, and, marshalled by self-elected commanders, the gleaming cohorts closed around him. But when the helmet, lifted, revealed a face of wondrous beauty, stained by the traces of recent grief, the eyes flashing with the light of incipient madness, tears trembled on the cheeks of that stern soldiery, and "Icilius !" ran in a low wail through their ranks. "Comrades," he cried," you behold no more that young Icilius who, foot to foot and shield to shield with you, has borne the brunt of many a bloody day, and whose life was like a summer's morning, rich with the fragrance of the opening buds, while every morn gave promise of new joys, and twilight hours were in their lingering glories dressed, — but a man sore broken, made ruthless by oppression, and so beset with horrors that this reeling brain, just tottering on the verge of madness, is steadied only by the purpose of revenge. 66 Yesterday, Virginia, my betrothed, was by her father slain, to thwart the lust of Appius Claudius, a guardian of the public virtue and a ruler of the State. "As she crosses the forum, on her way to school, that she may take leave of her mates and invite them to her bridal, some ruffians set on by Appius Claudius lay hold upon her, averring that she is not the daughter of Virginius, but of a slave-woman, the property of Marcus, his client. The matter is brought to public trial; Appius, failing to obtain in this manner the custody of her, that he may gratify his evil passions, commands his soldiers to take her by force. Her friends, apprehending no violence at a legal tribunal, are without arms. Soldiers are tearing her from her father's embrace, when the stern parent, preferring death to dishonor, catches a knife from the butcher's stall, and crying, 'Thus only can I restore thee untainted to thy ancestors,' stabs her to the heart. "The purple torrent gushing from her breast, she falls upon my neck, her arms embrace me, — her lips close pressed to mine, murmuring in death my name, she dies. "In childhood we were lovers; from her father's door to mine was but a javelin's cast. We sought the nests of birds, — played in the brooks, chased butterflies, — we clapped our hands in childish wonder when the great eagle from the Apennines plunged headlong to the vale, or skimmed with level wing along the flood, and I, adventurous boy, risked life and limb upon the jutting crag, to pluck some wild-flower that her fancy pleased. "As generous wine by age becomes more potent, thus fared it with our loves. For her I kept myself unstained, rushed to the battle's front, and honors gained, that I might lay them at her feet, and, by her love inspired, press on to worthier deeds. Like flowers whose kindred roots intwine, whose perfume mingles on the morning air, did our affections blend. 'T was but three nights ago that we sat hand in hand beside the Tiber, and listened to the song of nightingales among the elms. The purple twilight quivering through the leaves streamed o'er her brow, and bathed in heavenly hues her lovely form. "There we talked of our approaching nuptials. Love ripened into rapture. I kissed her lips, and chid the slow-paced hours that kept us from our bliss. The marriage day was fixed. With curtains richly wrought, and coverings of finest linen, spun by her own hands and by her maidens, my mother had adorned the couch. "To that sweet home where I had hoped through happy years to cherish her a wife, I bore her mangled corpse, gashed by a father's hand. Her blood bedewed the bed decked with those nuptial gifts. "To you, mates of my boyhood, brethren in battle tried, I stretch my hands; not in the petty interest of a private wrong, but in the sacred right of Roman liberty, of virgin purity, sweet household joys, and in the name of those whose fair forms mingle with your dreams, in the fierce shock of battle nerve your arms, the fragrance of whose parting kiss yet lingers on your lips. "The blood of age creeps slowly, and in its timid counsels interest and fear bear sway. Shall youthful swords lie rusting in the scabbard, and young men count the odds, when slaughtered beauty from its bloody grave clamors for vengeance? "Behold this mantle, drenched in the blood of her whose fingers wove it as a gift of love, each precious drop a tongue to shame your lingering courage. Led by the father with his bloody knife, your comrades thunder at the gates of Rome, while you, unworthy sons of sires who banished Tarquin and expelled the kings, sit here deliberating whether the virgin's sanctity, the wife's fair virtue, and all that men and gods hold sacred, are worth the striking for. Consume your youth in hunger, cold, and vigils, with spoils of conquered realms to pamper tyrants, till, waxing wanton on your bounty, they desolate your homes; and ye, hedged in by mercenary spears, revile your misery." His words were drowned in the clash of steel and the cries of multitudes calling to arms. Tearing the bloody garment in pieces, he flung them among the thronging battalions. "Be these your eagles! Bind them to your hel mets; and, in the spirit they inspire, strike down the oppressor, that sweet Virginia's unquiet ghost no more may wander shrieking for vengeance on the midnight air, but to the silent shades appeased return." Elijah Kellogg NOTE. - The Publishers of "Our Young Folks" are obliged, by their arrangement with the author of the foregoing declamation, positively to prohibit its republication. SMA MARY'S FIRST TRIAL. MALL events and trials in the life of a young child have more effect upon after life than we always know. The following, which among other family and nursery records I remember, is a true story. Little Mary sat alone in the parlor, " sewing a weary seam "; and she sighed once or twice as the breeze came soft and sweet through the open window, and she thought how very, very pleasant it was out there, where the lilacs were in bloom and the trees in full blossom. Presently a door opened, and her mother came from the adjoining bedroom. Mary's mother—a grave, stately-looking lady—was dressed for going out. We should smile to meet any one in our streets apparelled in like manner, but it was the fashion of that time. Her dress was a bright-patterned chintz sack, long, and open in front; the corners drawn back and fastened up behind, so displaying a flower-quilted petticoat beneath. Fifty years ago a young girl took that dress from the bottom of an old trunk, where it had lain for nearly thirty, and appropriated it to private theatricals. Over the lady's shoulders lay a black mantle, and on her arms she wore long black mits, reaching to the bare elbows. A black silk hat was set low over the forehead, and raised behind so as not to crumple the starched high crown, clear and delicate, of her muslin cap; and she carried an open green fan, larger than some of the sunshades now in use. The pointed toes and high heels of her prunella, paste-buckled slippers clicked daintily as she walked, and left slight trace upon the sanded floor. At the opposite door she paused, with her hand upon the lock, and looked back at the child, who, prim and silent, sat upon a low stool near the window. There was a flush of excitement on the pale little face, for she had hoped to be the companion of her mother's walk; but the strict discipline of those days forbade much freedom of speech in children, so Mary could not dream of asking excuse from a task unaccomplished, however industrious she might have been; but her dark eyes looked so wistful there was no mistaking their language. "Go fetch your hat, Mary," said the lady, at length; and with pleased smiles the little maiden folded her work, replaced the square, oaken stool in exact angle with the lion-clawed table, and obeyed the welcome summons. With careful steps the mother and daughter walked along the unpaved streets of Glostown, I give it that name, though the four first letters alone belong to it. They stopped at a square wooden house, which was @pproached by two very low flat steps, and entered through a pair of red folding-doors, having a brass knocker on the one and a brass handle on the other. Blinds had not yet come into general use; but the windows of this house were hung with curtains, and four thickly leafed poplars shaded them outwardly. Here lived the parish clergyman, Parson Fordes. The town of Glostown has now its six or eight places of public worship, perhaps more; but at that time the one old meeting-house - which, if it had ever been painted, retained no trace of it- stood solitary, with its belfry and pointed steeple, overlooking the whole parish. The little fishing-town has since become a thickly settled place. Hotels and rows of stores have displaced all the pretty gardens; and railroad tracks stretch along where Mary and her mother walked that afternoon so quietly. - The two visitors were received in the parlor of Madam Fordes, the wife of the clergyman. This lady, well advanced in years, sat in a white dimitycovered easy-chair, dressed all in white herself; her Bible and spectacles ly ing on a three-footed light-stand beside her, and her favorite cat on a cushion near by. The floor was carpeted, a rare thing in those days. This car pet was home-made; industry and ingenuity had slowly accomplished it. Bits of woollen cloth-black, red, gray, green, and yellow-cut to the width of common tape, and sewed together in long variegated strips, braided and interwoven, had produced a durable fabric, a carpet, giving to this room a look of cheerful comfort. Between the windows stood a small table with raised edges, bow-legged and curiously carved, supporting a tea-service of china with cups almost toy-like in size. If a lady has only one such now she holds it precious, and gives it place among curiosities. On the opposite side of the room was a high chest of drawers, kept in shining nicety; and beside it-close beside it there stood, unfortunately as it proved, a child's arm-chair, - the only chair among the high, stiff-backed ones that stood round the room on which the little girl could have seated herself in comfort. - as The two ladies conversed of their dairies, their gardens, their spirning and knitting, their quiltings and weavings, and in more serious tones of the Dark Day which had very recently occurred, filling people's hearts with terror while it lasted, and leaving them impressed with awe and solemnity; for the Dark Day of the year 1780 was not an eclipse, and many looked upon a forewarning that the world was coming to an end. Up to the present t it has not been satisfactorily accounted for. It lasted from early forenoon! near sunset; candles were lighted, for it was like night; the fowls went to roost, the birds to their nests, and when the sun reappeared, just before its setting, they awoke as to a new day. ле Engaged upon so serious a subject, they thought not of little Mary, sitting unnoticed and silent in her low chair apart; but although she had studied the blue tiles round the fireplace several times over, and gazed, till her fancy was more than satisfied, upon the picture of Queen Anne with a string of beads round her throat, she was neither weary nor inactive. Her curiosity and her admiration had become strongly excited by an object that fixed her gaze with a magical charm. One of the drawers of the great shining chest was a little a very littleway open, and from it peeped forth a bit of pink sarcenet ; it was but a small bit, not much larger than the pink surface of Mary's own little hand; but it |
