advance or his ravages; but Scipio looked into the ages that were past, and saw the prefiguration of Rome's deliverance. We are told that the muse of history descended upon the meditating hero; that she showed him the harbour of Syracuse, and told him a tale of former days: "That in the dead of night, when Syracuse was plunged in universal mourning and consternation, when the overwhelming navy of Carthage was riding in her harbour, and the next day's light, threatened to conduct the enemy into her citadel, with a policy unique and sublime, she clandestinely dismissed her garrison to the coast of Africa, and when the senate of Carthage expected the gates of Syracuse to open, they heard that the warriors of Syracuse were beneath her own walls." The hero applied the glorious suggestion :he embarked his legions-he sailed to Africa; he left the host of Carthage in Italy, and obeyed the instructions of history. And did she instruct him aright?-You will read your answer in the tears of Hannibal when he threw his last look upon the delightful plains of Italy.

Such was the benefit of historical retrospect in ancient days; but its value is now incalculably augmented; for, of the sciences, history is that which is always advancing. Mathematics and philosophical improvements may be long at a stand; poetry and the arts are often stationary, often retrograde; but every year, every month, every day is contributing its knowledge to the grand magazine of historical experience. Look at what the last years have added, and behold how history gathers as she rolls along-what new attractions she holds forth to mankind. But, with what an accession of beauty she invites the Briton to the study of her charms, while she recounts the acts and heroism and glories of her country!

Let the energies of England be extinct; let her armies. be overwhelmed ;-let her navy become the spoil of the enemy and the ocean;-let the national credit become a byword; let the last dregs of an exhausted treasury be wrung from her coffers ;-let the constitution crumble;-let the enemy ride in her capital, and her frame fall asunder in political dissolution;-then stand with history on one hand, and oratory on the other, over the grave in which her energies lie entombed,-and cry aloud! Tell her that there was a time when the soul of a Briton would not bend before the congregated world :-tell her that she once called her sons around her and wrung the charter of her liberties from a reluctant despot's hand tell her that she was the parent

of the band of brothers that fought on Crispin's day :-tell her that Spain sent forth a nation upon the seas against her, and that England and the elements overwhelmed it :-tell her that six centuries were toiling to erect the edifice of her constitution, and that at length the temple arose :-tell her that there are plains in every quarter of the globe where victory has buried the bones of her heroes,

"That the spirits of her fathers

Shall start from ev'ry wave,

For the deck it was their field of fame,
And ocean was their grave :"-

When the earth opened upon Lisbon and swallowed her in the womb,-tell her that she stretched her hand across the seas and raised her from the bowels of the earth into the world again :-tell her that when the enemy of human liberty arose, the freedom of the whole world took refuge with her; that, with an arm of victory, alone and unaided, she flung back the usurper, till recreant Europe blushed with shame ;-tell her all this; and I say that the power of lethargy must be omnipotent, if she does not shake the dust from her neck, and rise in flames of annihilating vengeance on her destroyer.

:

But

For the reader of history, every hero has fought-every philosopher has instructed—every legislator has organized; every blessing was bestowed-every calamity was inflicted for his information. In public, he is in the audit of his counsellors, and enters the senate with Pericles, Solon, and Lycurgus about him in private, he walks among the tombs of the mighty dead; and every tomb is an oracle. who is he that should pronounce this awakening call? who is he whose voice should be the trumpet and war-cry to an enslaved and degraded nation ?-It should be the voice of such an one as he who stood over slumbering Greece, and uttered a note at which Athens started from her indolence, Thebes roused from her lethargies, and Macedon trembled.

SECTION LVII.

ORLANDO-ADAM.....Shakspeare.

Orlando. WHO's there?

Adam. What! my young master!-O, my gentle master, O, my kind master, O you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! why, what brings you here?
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
Why would you be so fond to overcome

The bony priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it?

Orla. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O unhappy youth,

Come not within these doors: within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:

Your brother (no, no brother; yet the son―
Yet not the son;-I will not call him son-
Of him I was about to call his father,)

Hath heard your praises; and this night he means
To burn the lodging where you use to lie,
And you within it; if he fail of that,
He will have other means to cut you off:

I overheard him and his practices.

This is no place, this house is but a butchery;
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go ?
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.
Orla. What, would thou have me go and beg my food?
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce

A thievish living on the common road?
This I must do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can ;

I rather will subject me to the malice

Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I saved under your father,

Which I did store to be my foster-nurse,

When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that; and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providentially caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you : Let me be your servant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty :

For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did ever with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

appears

Orla. O good old man; how well in thee
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweats for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having; it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry :
But come thy ways, we'll go along together;
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee,
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor.

SECTION LVIII.

DOGBERRY-VERGES-THE WATCH.....Ibid.

Dogberry. ARE you good men and true? Verges. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer condemnation.

Dog. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch.

Ver. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.

Dog. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable.

1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read.

Dog. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal; you are blessed with a good name: to be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.

2 Wat. Both which, master constable

Dog. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favour, sir, why, make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern. This is your charge: You shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are to bid any man stand in the prince's name.

2 Wat. How if he will not stand?

Dog. Why then, take no note of him, but let him go; and presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank your stars you are rid of a knave.

Ver. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects.

Dog. True, and they are to meddle with none but the prince's subjects:-You shall also make no noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble and talk, is most tolerable, and not to be endured.

2 Wat. We will rather sleep than talk; we know what belongs to a watch.

Dog. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend : only, have a care that your bills be not stolen. Well, you are to call at the ale-houses, and bid them that are drunk get them to bed.

2 Wat. How if they will not?

Dog. Why then, let them alone till they are sober; if they make you not then the better answer, you may say, they are not the men you took them for.

2 Wat. Well, sir.

Dog. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue of your office, to be no true man; and, for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make with those, why, the more is for your honesty.

2 Wat. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on him?

Dog. Truly, by your office you may; but, I think, they