with a politic regard to the likes and dislikes, the passions and prejudices, of men. I believe, then, that experience does not verify the common saying, that honesty is the best-that is, the most 5 profitable-policy. It is so in most cases, but not in all. Hence those who recommend honesty on the ground of its being the best policy, advise men to act from a motive which, in some, perhaps the most important cases, may lead them into dishonesty. Steal no more! Cease to do 10 evil! Learn to do well! These are the simple precepts addressed to the consciences of men, without leaving it to their discretion to decide in what cases they may do evil, if in all others they do well. If you compare this simple doctrine of Scripture and of 15 conscience, which enjoins honesty because of its intrinsic excellence, with the doctrine of worldly wisdom, which recommends honesty as the most profitable policy, and if you put both maxims to the test of experience, you will know by their fruits which is of God and which of man. 20 In those cases where honesty is in part the worst policy, the man who is virtuous for virtue's sake will choose to endure all the evils connected with the performance of duty, rather than the simple consciousness of guilt; while in all those cases in which honesty turns out to be the best 25 policy, the joy of acting right, without regard to the consequences, exceeds every other reward. LX. - PAUL REVERE'S RIDE. LONGFELLOW. 1 LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five: Who remembers that famous day and year. 2 He s to his friend, 3 "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Then he said good-night, and with muffled oar Where swinging wide at her moorings lay A phantom ship, with each mast and spar And a huge, black hulk, that was magnified 4 Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street 5 Then he climbed to the tower of the church, Where he paused to listen and look down 6 Beneath, in the church-yard, lay the dead And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" Of the place and the hour, the secret dread Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 8 And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height, 9 A hurry of hoofs in a village-street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 10 It was twelve by the village-clock, When he crossed the bridge into Medford town He heard the crowing of the cock, And the barking of the farmer's dog, 11 It was one by the village-clock, And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. 12 It was two by the village-clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord towa He heard the bleating of the flock, And the twitter of birds among the trees, And one was safe and asleep in his bed 13 You know the rest. In the books you have read 14 So through the night rode Paul Revere ; A cry of defiance, and not of fear, -- A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, And the midnight-message of Paul Revere. LXI. WASHINGTON AT MOUNT VERNON. IRVING. [This sketch of Washington's manner of life, from the close of the old French war to the beginning of the revolution, is from the first volume of Irving's "Life of Washington."] MOUNT VERNON was beautifully situated on a swelling height, crowned with wood, and commanding a magnificent view up and down the Potomac. The grounds immediately about it were laid out somewhat in the English 5 taste. The estate was apportioned into separate farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each having its allot |