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60 should invite you to his feast, when he offers a sacrifice,
what course would you take ?”—“I would first invite him to mine.” “And how would you induce him to take the charge of your affairs, when you are on a jour
ney ?”—“I should be forward to do the same good 65 office to him, in his absence." "If you be solicitous
to remove a prejudice, which he may have received against you, how would you then behave towards him ?"
C“ I should endeavour to convince him, by my looks,
words, and actions, that such prejudice was ill-founded.” 70 - And if he appeared inclined to reconciliation, would you reproach hin with the injustice he had done you ?" -"No," answered Demetrius ;
“ I would repeat no grievances.”
Go,” said Socrates, “and pursue that conduct towards your brother, which you would prac75 tise to a neighbour. His friendship is of inestimable
worth; and nothing is more lovely in the sight of Heaven, than for brethren to dwell together in unity.”
51. Harley's Death. " There are some remembrances (said Harley) which rise involuntarily on my heart, and make me almost wish to live, I have been blessed with a few friends,
who redeem my opinion of mankind. I recollect, with 5 the tenderest emotion, the scenes of pleasure I have
passed among them--but we shall meet again, my friend, never to be separated. There are some feelings which perhaps are too tender to be suffered by the world. The
world, in general, is selfish, interested, and unthinking, 10 and throws the imputation of romance, or melancholy,
on every temper more susceptible than its own.
feelings will subsist :they are called-perhaps they 15 are-weaknesses, here ;--but there may
be some better modifications of them in heaven, which may deserve the name of virtues.” He sighed, as he spoke these last words. He had scarcely finished them, when the door opened, and his aunt appeared, leading in Miss Walton.
20 “My dear (says she) here is Miss Walton, who has
been so kind as to come and inquire for you berself.” I could perceive a transient glow upon his face. He rose from his seat.-—" If to know Miss Walton's good
ness (said he) be a title to deserve it, I have some 25 claim.” She begged bim to resume his seat, and plac
ed herself on the sofa beside him. I took my leave. His aunt accompanied me to the door. He was left with Miss Walton alone. She inquired anxiously after
his health. “I believe (said he) from the accounts 30 which my physicians unwillingly give me, that they have
no great hopes of my recovery.”--She started, as he spoke ; but, recollecting herself immediately, endeavoured to flatter him into a belief, that his apprehensions
were groundless. “I know (said be) that it is usual 35 with persons at my time of life, to have these hopes
which your kindness suggests; but I would not wish to be deceived. To meet death as becomes a man, is a privilege bestowed on few : I would endeavour to make
it mine :-nor do I think, that I can ever be better pre40 pared for it than now :- -'tis that chiefly, which deter
mines the fitness of its approach." "Those sentiments,' answered Miss Walton, are just; but your good sense, Mr. Harley, will own, that life has its proper value.
As the province of virtue, life is ennobled; as such, it 45 is to be desired.—To virtue has the Supreme Director
of all things assigned rewards enough, even here, to fix its attachments.
The subject began to overpower her.--Harley lifted up his eyes from the ground--" There are (said he,
in a low voice)--there are attachments, Miss Walton.” 50 - His glance met hers--they both betrayed a confu
sion, and were both_instantly withdrawn.--He paused some moments.-- I am (he said) in such a state as calls for sincerity: let that alone excuse it-it is, per
haps, the last time we shall ever meet. I feel some55 thing particularly solemn in the acknowledgment; yet
my heart swells to make it, awed as it is by a sense of my presumption, --by a sense of your perfections."-He paused again--"Let it not offend you, (he resumed,)
to know their power over one so unworthy. My heart 60 will, I believe, soon cease to beat, even with that feel.
ing which it shall lose the latest.— To love Miss Walton could not be a crime.--If to declare it is one, the expiation will be made.”
Her tears were now fowing without control.—" Let me entreat you (said she) to 65 have better hopes—let not life be so indifferent to you ;
if my wishes can put any value upon it, I will not pretend to misunderstand you--I know your worth-I have long known it-I have esteemed it—what would you
have me say?--I have loved it, as it deserved !!! He 70 seized her hand :--a languid colour reddened his cheek
--a smile brightened faintly in his eye. As he gazed on her, it grew dim, it fixed, it closed--he sighed, and fell back on his seat-Miss Walton screamed at the
sight-his aunt and the servants rushed into the room 75 —they found them lying motionless together.--His phy
sician happened to call at that instant--every art was tried to recover them--with Miss Walton they succeeded--but Harley was gone for ever.
To-morrow, didst thou say ?
'Tis a sharper, who stakes his penury
And pays thee nought but wishes, hopes and promises,
It is a period no where to be found 10 In all the hoary registers of Time,
Unless, perchance, in the fool's calendar.
'Tis Fancy's child, and Folly is its father; 15 Wrought of such stuff as dreams are, and as baseless
As the fantastic visions of the evening.
But soft, my friend--arrest the present moment ;
For be assur'd, they all are arrant tell-tales :
And though their fight be silent, and their path 20 Trackless as the winged couriers of the air,
They post to heaven, and there record thy folly,
Didst let them pass unnotic'd, unimprov'd.
Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar
Of hood-wink'd Justice, who shall tell thy audit ! 30 Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio,
Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings.
O ! let it not elude thy grasp ; but, like
53. The Perfect Orator. Imagine to yourselves a Demosthenes, addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point whereon the fate of the most illustrious of nations de
pended-How awful such a meeting ! how vast the sub5 ject !--Is man possessed of talents adequate to the great
occasion !--Adequate! Yes, superior. By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lost in the dignity of the orator ; and the importance of the
subject, for a while, superseded by the admiration of 10 his talents. With what strength of argument, with what
powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he assault and subjugate the whole man; and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his pas
sions! -To effect this, must be the utmost effort of 15 the most improved state of human nature.--Not a fac- '
ulty that he possesses, is here unemployed; not a faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his ex
ternal, testify their energies. Within, the memory, the 20 fancy, the judgment, the passions, are all busy: with
out, every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, through the kin
dred organs of the hearers, instantaneously vibrate those 25 energies from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diver
sity of minds in such a multitude ; by the lightning of eloquence, they are melted into one mass--the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become,
as it were, but one man, and have but one voice - The 30 universal cry is--LET US MARCH AGAINST PHILIP, LET LIBERTIES LET US CONQUER OR DIE!
US FIGHT FOR OUR