the faith of these visions they forced their general, in spite of his remonstrances, to descend into the plain with the view of attacking the English in their retreat. Cromwell, looking through a glass, saw the enemy's camp in motion, and foretold, without the help of revelation, that the Lord had delivered them into his hands. He gave orders immediately for an attack. In this battle, it was easily observed that nothing in military actions can supply the place of discipline and experience, and that in the presence of real danger, where men are not accustomed to it, the fumes of enthusiasm soon dissipate and lose their influence. The Scots, though double in number to the English, were soon put to flight, and pursued with great slaughter. The chief, if not only resistance, was made by one regiment of Highlanders, that part of the army which was least infected with fanaticism. No victory could be more complete than that which was obtained by Cromwell. About 3,000 of the enemy were slain and 9,000 taken prisoners. Cromwell pursued his advantage, and took possession of Edinburgh and Leith. The remnant of the Scottish army fled to Stirling. The approach of the winter season, and an ague, which seized Cromwell, kept him from pushing the victory any farther. The clergy made great lamentations, and published a declaration containing the cause of their late misfortunes. These visitations they ascribed to the manifold provocations of the king's house, of which they feared he had not yet thoroughly repented; the secret intrusion of malignants into the king's family, and even into the camp; the leaving of a most malignant and profane guard of horse, who being sent for to be purged, came two days before the defeat, and were allowed to fight with the army; the owning of the king's quarrel by many, without reference to religion and liberty; and the carnal self-seeking of some, together with the neglect of family prayers by others. Cromwell, having been so successful in the war of the sword, took up the pen against the Scottish ecclesiastics. He took care to retort on them their favourite argument of Providence; and asked them "whether the Lord had not declared against them?" But the ministers thought that the same events, which to their enemies were judgments, to them were trials; and they replied that the Lord had only hid his face for a time from Jacob. But Cromwell insisted that the appeal had been made to God in the most express and solemn manner, and that in the fields of Dunbar a decision had been awarded in favour of the English army. RULE BRITANNIA. When Britain first, at heaven's command, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sang the strain— The nations, not so blest as thee, Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; • Thee, haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame, To thee belongs the rural reign, Thy cities shall with commerce shine; The Muses, still with Freedom found, James Thomson. THE DEATH OF THE BRAVE. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By fairy hands their knell is rung, To dwell a weeping hermit there. William Collins. LITTLE EDMUND AND HIS PARENTS. Edmund was a little boy of about five years of age. He was not of a bad disposition, but his mother always let him have his own way; and when he cried for anything his father allowed him to have it, thinking he would do himself some injury if it were refused. Being thus indulged his whims grew every day more frequent, and it was impossible always to gratify them, for his parents were extremely poor, and lived, as the saying is, from hand to mouth. grew at last quite obstinate and quarrelsome, insisted upon having everything he saw, and when he could not get it, would grow sulky, tear his clothes, refuse to do what he was bid, and act generally in an outrageous manner. He His parents were much grieved to see this behaviour in him, and thought it proceeded from a naturally bad disposition. "Alas!" exclaimed his mother, "I once thought that our little Edmund would comfort us under all our trials, and be our support in our old age; but on the contrary, he is the cause of our greatest anxiety." "His principles are very bad," said his father; " everyone will dislike him, and refuse to help him when he is in want. He will commit some wicked action, and be punished by the laws of his country." These sorrowful reflections were constantly passing through their minds. They were now no longer cheerful at their daily employment, and had little appetite for their food. Their sorrow had a visible effect upon their health; their strength daily diminished; and one morning, being more depressed than usual, they were not able to get up. Little Edmund, however, was up as usual, and called for his breakfast. "Edmund," said his mother, "I am very ill, and cannot rise to get it for you." On which he sulked, she wept, and bis father sighed deeply. The little urchin waited some time; but seeing neither of them stir, decided immediately what to do. He went to a neighbour's house for a light to kindle a fire. A little girl came down to admit him, but as she spoke to him sharply he went away in a pet without lighting his candle. He then called upon another neighbour, who on seeing Edmund, would not so much as ask him his errand, but refused to open the door. He then went home, put down the candle, and reflected that a good old woman who had formerly been kind to him, might now afford him assistance. 66 He went and asked her for some breakfast. "Breakfast!" replied she; "why, has your mother not given you any?" "She is in bed," said Edmund. "Well, your father, then, will not he give you your breakfast?" "He is in bed, too," said Edmund; they say they are ill, and cannot rise to attend to me." "And would you leave them in this state and come to me for breakfast, you heartless boy?" said the old woman. "Go away; I have nothing for you; and had I more than I want for myself, I would give it to poor children who are fonder of their parents than you are, and who strive to make them happy." |
