affectionate wife may demand subsistence; a circle of helpless children raise to him the supplicating hand for food. He may be driven to the desperate act, by the high mandate of imperative necessity. The mild features of 5 the husband and the father, may intermingle with those of the robber, and soften the roughness of the shade. But the robber of character plunders that which "not enricheth him," though it makes his neighbor "poor indeed." The man who, at the midnight hour, consumes his neigh10 bor's dwelling, does him an injury which perhaps is not irreparable. Industry may rear another habitation. The storm may indeed descend upon him, until charity opens a neighboring door: the rude winds of heaven may whistle around his uncovered family. But he looks forward to 15 better days; he has yet a hook to hang a hope on. No such consolation cheers the heart of him whose character has been torn from him. If innocent, he may look, like Anaxagoras, to the heavens; but he must be constrained to feel, that this world is to him a wilderness. For whith20 er shall he go? Shall he dedicate himself to the service of his country? But will his country receive him? Will she employ in her councils, or in her armies, the man at whom the "slow, unmoving finger of scorn" is pointed? Shall he betake himself to the fire-side? The story of his 25 disgrace will enter his own doors before him. And can he bear, think you, can he bear the sympathizing agonies of a distressed wife? Can he endure the formidable presence of scrutinizing, sneering domestics? Will his children receive instruction from the lips of a disgraced father? 30 Gentlemen, I am not ranging on fairy ground. I am telling the plain story of my client's wrongs. By the ruthless hand of malice, his character has been wantonly massacred;—and he now appears before a jury of his country for redress. Will you deny him this redress? 35 -Is character valuable? On this point I will not insult you with argument. There are certain things, to argue which is treason against nature. The Author of our being did not intend to leave this point afloat at the mercy of opinion; but, with his own hand, has he kindly planted in 40 the soul of man an instinctive love of character. This high sentiment has no affinity to pride. It is the ennobling quality of the soul: and if we have hitherto been elevated above the ranks of surrounding creation,_human nature owes its elevation to the love of character. It is the love of character for which the poet has sung, the philosopher toiled, the hero bled. It is the love of character which wrought miracles at ancient Greece; the love of character is the eagle on which Rome rose to empire. 5 And it is the love of character animating the bosom of her sons, on which America must depend in those approaching crises that may try men's souls." Will a jury weaken this our nation's hope? Will they by their verdict pronounce to the youth of our country, that character is scarce 10 worth possessing? We read of that philosophy which can smile over the destruction of property,-of that religion which enables its possessor to extend the benign look of forgiveness and complacency, to his murderers. But it is not in the soul of 15 man to bear the laceration of slander. The philosophy which could bear it, we should despise. The religion which could bear it, we should not despise,-but we should be constrained to say, that its kingdom was not of this world. LESSON CCIII.-SIR ANTHONY ABSOLUTE AND CAPTAIN ABSO LUTE.-Sheridan. Capt. A. Sir Anthony, I am delighted to see you here, and looking so well! Your sudden arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health. Sir A. Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack. What, 5 you are recruiting here, hey? Capt. A. Yes, sir, I am on duty. Sir A. Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, though I did not expect it; for I was going to write to you on a little matter of business. Jack, I have been considering that I 10 grow old and infirm, and shall probably not be with you long. 15 Capt. A. Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty; and I pray fervently that you may continue so. Sir A. I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well then, Jack, I have been considering that I am so strong and hearty, I may continue to plague you a long time. Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed 20 you, is but a small pittance for a lad of your spirit. Capt. A. Sir, you are very good. 5 Sir A. And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble independence. Capt. A. Sir, your kindness overpowers me. Yet, sir, Sir A. Ay, ay, settle that between you; settle that 10 between you. Capt. A. A wife, sir, did you say? Sir A. Ay, a wife: why, did not I mention her before? Sir A. Yes, Jack, the independence I was talking of 15 is by a marriage; the fortune is saddled with a wife; but suppose that makes no difference? 20 25 30 I Capt. A. Sir, sir, you amaze me! Sir A. What's the matter with the fool?-just now you were all gratitude and duty. Capt. A. I was, sir; you talked to me of independence and a fortune, but not one word of a wife. Sir A. Why, what difference does that make? Sir, if you have the estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it stands. Capt. A. Pray, sir, who is the lady? Sir A. What's that to you, sir? Come, give me your promise to love, and to marry her directly. Capt. A. Sure, sir, that's not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a lady I know nothing of! Sir A. I am sure, sir, 't is more unreasonable in you, to object to a lady you know nothing of,— Capt. A. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this point I can not obey you. Sir A. Hark ye, Jack; I have heard you for some 35 time with patience,-I have been cool,-quite cool: but take care; you know I am compliance itself, when I am not thwarted; no one more easily led, when I have my own way; but don't put me in a frenzy. Capt. A. Sir, I must repeat it; in this I can not obey 40 you. Sir A. Now, hang me, if ever I call you Jack again, while I live! Capt. A. Nay, sir, but hear me. Sir A. Sir, I won't hear a word, not a word! not one 5 word! So give me your promise by a nod, and I'll tell you what, Jack,-I mean you dog,-if you don't by Capt. A. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness; to Sir A. Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew. She shall be all 10 this, sirrah! Yes, I'll make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty. 15 20 25 Capt. A. This is reason and moderation, indeed! Sir A. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes! Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humor for mirth in my life. Sir A. 'Tis false, sir; I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll grin when I am gone, sirrah! Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better. Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please; it won't do with me, I promise you. Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I was never cooler in my life. Sir A. 'Tis a confounded lie! I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are a hypocritical young dog; but it wont do. Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word, Sir A. So you will fly out! Can't you be cool, like 30 me? What good can passion do? Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again! Don't provoke me! But you rely upon the mildness of my temper, you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my disposition! Yet take care; 35 the patience of a saint may be overcome at last! But mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this; if you then agree, without any condition, to do every thing on earth that I choose, why, confound you! I may in time forgive you. If not, don't enter the same 40 hemisphere with me! don't dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own: I'll strip you of your commission: I'll lodge a five-and-three-pence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest. I'll disown you; I'll disinherit you; and hang me, if ever I call you [Exit. Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father, I kiss your hands. LESSON CCIV.-ANTONY'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMAN POPU- Friends, Remans, countrymen, lend me your ears: He was my friend, faithful and just to me: 15 And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, When that the poor hath cried, Cæsar hath wept: You all did see, that, on the Lupercal, 25 Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? And sure he is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke; 30 You all did love him once, not without cause: And men have lost their reason.-Bear with me: Have stood against the world: now lies he there, |