was accompanied with a sigh. When he had covered part of his face, he
stopped suddenly. "Farewell, my dear friend," said the generous and
pious youth, "a little more earth, and then you will be lost from my
sight for ever! It is the decree of Heaven, it must be so, and it is
my duty to submit. But though you will soon be for ever lost from my
sight, your memory will never be erased from my mind, till my mortal
clay, like yours, shall be incapable of knowing what passes in this
world. May my end be like yours, peaceful, composed, and tranquil."
After a few minutes pause, he proceeded in his business, filled up the
grave, and covered it with the most verdant turf he could find. He then
planted round it the woodbine and jessamine, and inclosed the whole
with a fence of blushing roses.
His business being now completed, he turned to the transparent stream,
and thus uttered his devotions, to which no mortal could be witness,
and his plaintive accents were heard only by the wafting gentle zephyrs.
"Thou great and omnipotent Being, who, in your gracious bounty to me,
unworthy wretch as I am, have been pleased to take me from the regions
of Folly, and place me here in those of Innocence and Virtue, where
I have learned to forget the former dreadful misfortunes of my life,
grant me, O gracious Heaven! thy protection, and endow me with the same
virtues that reverend sage possessed, to whose memory I have just paid
the last duties. Left as I am without either guide or companion, his
sacred ashes shall supply the place of them. Sooner shall this stream
cease to flow, and the sun withdraw its benign influence from these
happy regions, than I to wander from the paths into which my departed
friend has conducted me."
Though Nestor's death left the virtuous youth without friend or
companion, yet he in some measure consoled himself for that loss by
daily visiting his grave, and cautiously watching the growth of that
funeral plantation. He suffered not a weed to grow near it, and kept
every thing about it in the highest state of perfection. Every morning
and evening the birds assembled in the surrounding bushes, and warbled
forth their notes over the departed sage.
Though it is neither to be expected nor wished, that my youthful
readers should turn hermits, yet it would be proper for them to
remember, that happiness is not always to be found among the bustling
crowd, where every thing appears under borrowed shapes. In whatever
condition Fortune may place them, let them remember this one certain
truth, that there can be no real happiness where virtue is wanting.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_The Caprice of Fortune._
Painters represent Fortune with a bandage over her eyes, by which they
mean to tell us, that she distributes her gifts indiscriminately, and
as chance happens to throw a happy object in her way, without paying
regard to either virtue or merit. The following short history will
evince the truth of the old adage, that there is a something necessary,
besides merit and industry, to make a person's fortune in this
capricious world.
A brave old soldier, whom I shall conceal under the borrowed name of
Ulysses, had acquired immortal honours in the service of his country
on the field of battle. Having passed the prime of his life in actual
service, he retired to pass the evening of his days in the circle of
his family, and the care of his children.
He tenderly loved his offspring, and he had the inexpressible pleasure
and delight to find himself beloved by them.
As his eldest son had entered into a marriage contract by the consent
of all parties, a house was taken for the young couple, and the
necessary repairs and embellishments were not forgotten. One of the
apartments being designed for pictures, the generous youth, without
acquainting his father with his design, employed a painter to describe
all the heroic actions of his sire.
This business was completed with great expedition and secrecy, and as
soon as the house was properly ornamented and furnished, the young
gentleman invited all his relations and particular acquaintances to
partake of an elegant dinner, on his commencing housekeeping. When
the veteran entered the room, where all his glorious actions were
represented in the most lively colours, he could not avoid being
singularly struck with the generous piety of his son. The company were
at a loss which they should most admire, the heroic exploits of the
father, or the exemplary conduct of the son.
The old general surveyed every picture with an air of carelessness,
at which the company were not a little surprised, and could not help
wondering at his composed indifference. "You acted very properly, son,"
said the old gentleman, "to conceal your intentions of this matter from
me till you had completed it, as I otherwise should most certainly have
stifled it in its birth. What you have thus done is a convincing proof
of your love and affection for me; but, however sensible it may make me
of your attachments to me, yet it does not much flatter my vanity.
"Few pieces of biography are correct on their first appearance in the
world, where the parties meant to be handed down to posterity have not
been previously consulted. The most particular event, from the want of
proper information, is frequently omitted. Such is the case, my son, in
the present instance. There is one circumstance in my life which ought
to have been recorded, since to that action alone I owe all my fortune,
and my promotion in the army." However, as dinner was then serving up,
the conversation was dropped, and the company very soon began to have
something else to think of.
The next day, however, being at dinner with his children and a small
party of friends, his son requested him to inform him what was that
heroic act he had forgotten in his penciled history. The general
replied, he had no objections to do so, but observed, that it would be
necessary to go into the room where the pictures were hanging.
As soon as they had entered the room, the general began his
observations on the paintings. "I suppose son," said he, "you have
terminated the first line with that in which his majesty is supposed
to have made me a lieutenant-general. In this, indeed, you have made
a very capital error, as you have here brought together events that
happened at different periods. But I would wish to know, whether the
military honours I have received, were in consequence of the actions
represented in this picture, or on account of what is represented in
the whole."
The young gentleman replied, without the least hesitation, that the
honours he had received were in consequence of all his services, and
not of any single one.
"You are very much mistaken," said the general, "for it was in
consequence only of one action in my life, that I enjoy my present
honours; and this action you have not recorded."
The young gentleman was very much surprised to think that he should
forget the principal occurrence of his father's life, and that too from
which alone he was raised in the army. He censured his own want of
memory, and was the more angry with himself, as he could not even then
recollect it.
"Do not make yourself uneasy," said the general to his son, "for it is
not possible that you could paint an action you never knew any thing
of. It is a transaction which I have never yet related to any one; but
I shall now give you the particulars.
"During the very early part of my life as a soldier, I lost my left
leg, and received so dangerous a wound in my head, that my life was for
some time despaired of, nor did I perfectly recover of it till after
sixteen months had elapsed. I lost my three youngest sons on the field
of battle, where they bled in the service of their king and country.
"Notwithstanding all these services, I enjoyed no higher rank than that
of a major for nearly thirty years, while in that battle, in which I
lost my limb, my general fled, in order to preserve his precious life
from danger, and was rewarded with a title and a pension. But he was
the nephew of a favourite at court, who took care to represent him to
his sovereign and the nation, as having on the day of battle exposed
himself to the most imminent dangers. It may easily be supposed,
that my affections for my family, and my wishes to do well for them,
induced me to hope for preferment. Numbers were, like me, seeking for
promotion; but I could not, like the generality of them, stoop to their
means to obtain it; and if they had not more merit than myself, at
least they had better fortune. Tired out with expectations that met
with nothing but disappointments, I took the resolution to hang about
the court no longer in expectancy, but to retire into the country, and
there spend the remainder of my days in private. However, Fortune at
length smiled on me, and, when I least expected it, led me into the
path of fame and preferment. Of this circumstance not the least notice
is taken in your paintings!"
The young gentleman appeared very much astonished, and could not guess
what this circumstance could be, which he had omitted in his pictures,
since he apprehended that he was well acquainted with all the material
occurrences in the life of his father. "I know not, sir," said his
son, "what this circumstance can be that I have omitted. Perhaps it
may be something which the pencil of the artist cannot express. I must
confess, that I long much to know what this occurrence can be."
"Nothing can be more easy," replied the general, "than to represent
this scene on canvass: A beautiful river, ladies weeping on the borders
of it, and I on horseback in the liquid stream, holding a little
lap-dog in a half-drowned condition. Surely this could not be a very
difficult scene for an able pencil to represent, and could give but
little trouble to the painter!"
The young gentleman could hardly think his father serious, and could
not comprehend how such a scene as this could be considered as one of
the general's most glorious military exploits, by which he had gained
his promotion as a soldier. He, therefore, begged he would be pleased
to explain himself more fully.
"Trifling as you may think this exploit," replied the veteran, "I owe
to it my present promotion, which the loss of a limb in the field
of battle could not procure me. I will give you the history of this
strange affair in as few words as possible.
"As I was one morning riding on horseback, for the benefit of the air,
as well as for the advantage of exercise, on the beautiful banks of the
Thames, near Richmond, a coach passed me.--Curiosity induced me to look
into it, when I discovered the mistress of the minister; who appeared
to me as a pretty doll, agreeable to behold, but from whom you must
expect neither sense nor reason, and but a very small share of modesty,
that first accomplishment of the fair sex. Though she knew me perfectly
well, she condescended only to give me a nod, and having driven to
some distance before me, she got out of her carriage to walk with her
companions on the banks of the river.
"In order to avoid giving her the trouble of taking notice of me again,
I turned into a lane; but hardly had I entered it, when I heard a cry
of distress from the same women. I doubted not but some misfortune
had happened to them, and I, therefore, galloped towards them. As soon
as I got to them, the pretty doll cried out, 'Help, help, dear major!
my dear sweet Chloe has fallen into the water, and is unable to get
out!--The poor dear will be drowned, and I shall die with grief. Save
him, major, save him, I beg of you.'
"Though I cared as little for the mistress as for the animal, yet
compassion urged me to put spurs to my horse, and get into the river.
I happened to get hold of the ugly cur, and brought him in safety to
his mistress. I know not whether the scene which followed excited most
pity or contempt, since the most affectionate mother could not have
shown more joy on the recovery of her child. The idle and ridiculous
congratulations from the company, and their eager endeavours who should
be first to caress the ugly animal, exceeds all description. Every
mouth was open, and every tongue was in motion, each endeavouring to be
most noticed by the doll of fashion.
"As I apprehended my company was no longer wanted, I was about taking
my leave, when the little dog's mistress pressed me so warmly to
stay, that I alighted from my horse, and she took me by the arm. As
we sauntered along, at a little distance behind the company, and
out of their reach of hearing, she told me, she had been informed,
some time before, what rank I had been soliciting for. 'If I forget
this service,' said she, 'and if the minister is not from this day
your warmest advocate,--then major--O my poor dear Chloe!--you shall
see--yes, that you shall.'
"I made her a bow without saying any thing; for I was too proud
to wish to owe my preferment to such a woman, and to such paltry
services.--However, the very next day, I was sent for to the
minister's levee, when he drew me aside, and told me, that the king
had recollected both my name and my services, and that he himself had
represented the justice there would be in my promotion. In short,
in less than a month from that day, I was promoted to the rank of a
lieutenant-general. Thus, by saving the life of a little ugly animal,
did I obtain more than all my services in the field could procure me."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_The melancholy Effects of Pride._
A few miles distant from the metropolis lived an industrious farmer,
who had a son named Bounce. He had so strong a propensity to the
military life, that he was observed to be continually shouldering his
hoe, and treating it in other respects as a gun. He was fond of the
company of soldiers, and took great delight in hearing them repeat
their accounts of sieges and battles.
When he had reached the eighteenth year of his age, he enlisted in one
of the marching regiments; and as he had previously learned at school
to read, write, and cast up common accounts, he became so useful in his
present station, that he was first made a corporal, and soon after was
advanced to the higher state of a serjeant.
Much about this time, war was declared between England and France,
and, by a succession of the most fortunate circumstances, at the
commencement of the campaign, he had a lieutenantcy given him. He
behaved with great conduct on all occasions, and whenever any bold and
daring enterprise was to be undertaken, he was always appointed to
command it, and constantly came off with honour. The examples he set
others of his bravery, made every soldier under him as brave as himself.
So strongly had his conduct recommended him to the favour of his
general, that he soon after presented him with a company, in order that
his fortune might raise in the common soldiers an emulation to imitate
his conduct. He had not long enjoyed this new promotion, when a most
desperate battle was fought, which proved fatal to several superior
officers. On this occasion, Bounce, who had performed wonders during
the battle, was instantly appointed a major.
His exploits had often been recorded in the public papers, which being
read in his native village, all the inhabitants ran to congratulate his
parents on the occasion. His parents and brothers, undoubtedly, were
not a little flattered with the bravery and good fortune of Bounce.
The tear of joy would frequently steal down their cheeks when these
matters were mentioned. They longed for the happy day in which he was
to return, that they might have the inexpressible pleasure of embracing
a son and brother in their arms, whose bravery had done so much honour
to his family, and raised himself to such an elevated situation.
We have hitherto only surveyed the brilliant colourings of the picture;
but we must now proceed to examine its shades. All his good qualities
were tarnished by one predominant and odious vice, which was pride. In
relating the history of his own achievements, he would consider himself
as little less than an Alexander or a Cæsar. He paid himself all the
compliments for his heroic actions, which the most fulsome flatterer
would give a victorious prince in his presence.--He assumed to himself
all the honours of every battle he had been engaged in, without
allowing the least merit to any other officer.
All parties being at last tired of the war, many thousands of their
subjects having perished in the contest, many widows left to bemoan
their husbands, and a great number of children to lament the loss
of their fathers, a general peace put an end to this horrid carnage
of human beings. It so happened, that the regiment to which Bounce
belonged was directed to pass along the road on which his father's
house was situated, in order to proceed to Windsor, where it was to be
disbanded.
By this time, his father and mother had paid their last debt to nature;
but his brothers, who were still living, hearing of his approach, ran
to meet him, accompanied by many others in the village. They soon found
him at the head of his battalion, exercising his men, in quality of
captain and major.
They ran to him with open arms, saying, "O dear Bounce! were but our
parents now living, what joy would this give to their aged hearts! My
brother and I have been long sighing for this moment of seeing and
embracing you. Thanks to that God who has preserved you through so many
dangers, and at last has afforded us this inexpressible pleasure!"
Having thus said, the two brothers attempted to embrace him.
The major, however, was very much displeased, that men, who had no
cockades in their hats, should presume to take these freedoms with him,
and call him brother. He pushed them from him, and treated their marks
of affection with insolence and contempt. "What do you mean," said he,
"by taking these freedoms with me?"--"Is it possible," replied the
younger brother, "that you have forgotten us? Look at me, I am George,
whom you formerly loved, whom you taught to dig and sow this ground,
when I was but a little one, and not higher than the length of the
sword which now dangles by your side."
This put the major into a violent rage, and he threatened he would have
them apprehended as impostors, if they did not immediately depart.
This scene of pride and vanity passed at the head of his battalion,
to which every soldier was witness. They dared not to speak their
minds openly, but in their hearts execrated his conduct. They vented
their indignation in whispers to each other. "Is it possible," said
they, "that our major can be ashamed of having once been what we are
at present? on the contrary, he ought to think himself happy, and be
thankful, that Fortune has raised him from nothing to what he now is.
It is more to the honour and reputation of a man, to acquire a fortune
by merit, than it is to be born to one."
These were sentiments, however, of which Bounce had no idea; the
fortune he met with seemed to increase the depravity of his heart
rather than correct it. He even wished his fellow-soldiers to forget
that he had originally been, like them, one of the rank and file, and
consequently treated them with the most haughty and insolent contempt;
while they, on the other hand, viewed him in the just light in which
men ought to be considered, who, having soared above their original
obscurity, suffer themselves to be led away by the empty parade of
pride and ambition.
As he was one day reviewing the regiment in the presence of the
colonel, the latter having found some fault in his method of giving the
word of command, he gave him a very insolent and haughty answer, such
as the military laws will not admit an inferior to give to a superior
officer. He had frequently before given shameful instances of his
pride and arrogance to those of higher rank; his colonel, therefore,
determined to try him by a court-martial, and at once punish him for
all his audacious infractions of the military law. He was accordingly
tried, found guilty, and solemnly declared incapable of serving any
longer in the army. He was disgraced and ruined.
It can hardly be expected, that such a man as we have here described,
could have any great share of prudence or economy in the management
of his private affairs. He was not worth any thing at the time of his
disgrace, and, therefore, found himself obliged either to labour for
his living, or starve. What a situation for a man to be reduced to,
who, but a little while since, ingloriously despised that condition,
which he was now forced to apply to for his subsistence!
Necessity, at last, obliged him to pay a visit to the place of his
nativity, and beg the assistance of those whom he had so lately
despised. The villagers, when they saw him thus reduced, in their turn,
treated him with contempt, and made him experience how dangerous it is,
whatever may be our present fortune, to despise any one merely because
he may not be so great as ourselves.--During the whole course of his
prosperity he had formed no friendly connections, and therefore now,
in the hour of adversity, he had no creature to apply to, either to
advise or assist him. Thus had his pride and folly deprived him of one
of the greatest blessings of this life. The mind receives some little
consolation in being _pitied_; but deplorable indeed is his situation,
who cannot command that most trifling relief.
Finding himself neglected and despised by every one he had hitherto
applied to, he was at last forced to seek relief from his brothers,
whom he had lately insulted so cruelly. It was now, indeed, their turn
to retaliate on him; but they had souls far greater than his. They
despised every idea of mean revenge, and did him all the service they
could under his present difficulties.
The little matters their father had left them had long been divided
among them, and Bounce had made away with his share, as well as with
all his pay. In this situation, the brothers gave him a little spot of
ground to cultivate, on which he was obliged to employ all his time,
in order to procure a scanty subsistence. He had now time enough to
reflect on the elevated station from which his pride and folly had
thrown him.
He would frequently exclaim to himself, "O diabolical pride, to what
a melancholy situation hast thou brought me! Why, O Fortune! did you
raise me so far above my original character, as to make me forget
my former situation, and thereby make my fall more inglorious and
irreparable? had you not raised me above the state of a subaltern, I
might have still been happy; but, by making me great, you have ruined
and undone me!"
Ideas and reflections such as these perpetually haunted him, and
interrupted his repose; until Death, more kind to him than Fortune, put
an end to his feelings and sufferings by an untimely end, leaving an
example of the fatal consequences which pride brings in its train.
Be cautious, my youthful readers, how you suffer this vice to get
possession of your hearts, since it renders deformed the most perfect
beauty, and eclipses the most brilliant accomplishments.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_The Nettle and the Rose._
We may consider human life as a garden, in which roses and nettles are
promiscuously scattered, and in which we often feel the sting of the
wounding nettle, while we enjoy the fragrance of the blooming rose.
Those bowers of delight, entwined with the woodbine and jessamine,
under whose friendly umbrage we seek shelter from the noon-day sun,
frequently are the abode of snakes, adders, and venomous creatures,
which wound us in those unguarded scenes of delight.
As the year has its seasons, and winter and summer are constantly in
pursuit of each other; so changeable likewise is the condition of
mortals; and, as the elements are frequently disturbed by storms,
hurricanes, and tempests, so is the human mind frequently ruffled
and indisposed, till the sun-shine of reason and philosophy bursts
forth and dispels the gloom. Murmuring brooks, purling streams, and
sequestered groves, whatever the fictions of a poetical imagination may
have advanced, are not always the seat of unmingled pleasure, nor the
abode of uninterrupted happiness.