"I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in"-[There is no need, cried Dr. Slop, (waking) to call in any physician in this case.] 66 -To be neither of them men of much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn as to put the matter past doubt. Well, notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one ;-and, what is dearer still to me, I trust my life to the honest skill of the other. "Now let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence. Why, in the first place, I believe there is no probability that either of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage. I consider that honesty serves the purposes of this life ;-I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters. In a word, I am persuaded that they cannot hurt me, without hurting themselves more. "But put it otherwise; namely, that interest lay, for once, on the other side :—that a case should happen wherein the one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the world;-or that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonor to himself or his art :-In this case, what hold have I of either of them!-Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question ;-Interest, the next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me:What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance this temptation?-Alas! I have nothing, but what is lighter than a bubble-I must lie at the mercy of Honor, or some such capricious principle-Strait security for two of the most valuable blessings-my property and myself. "As therefore we can have no dependence upon morality without religion,-so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality;nevertheless, 'tis no prodigy to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself, in the light of a religious man. "He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable, -but even wanting in points of cominon honesty; yet in as much as he talks aloud against the infidelity of the age,-is zealous for some points of religion,-goes twice a-day to church, attends the săc'raments,--and amuses himself with a few instrumental parts of religion, shall cheat his conscience into a judgment, that for this he is a religious man and has discharged truly his duty to God: and you wil. find that such a man, through force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of piety, though, perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself. "This likewise is a sore evil under the sun: and, I believe, there is no one mistaken principle, which, for its time, has wrought more serious mischiefs. "For a general proof of this, examine the history of the Romish church." " [Well, what can you make of that? cried Dr. Slop,]see what scenes of cruelty, murder, răpine, bloodshed,' [They may thank their own obstinacy, cried Dr. Slop,"have all been sanctified by religion not strictly governed by morality. "In how many kingdoms of the world has the rusading sword of this misguided Saint-errant, spared neither age, nor merit, nor sex, nor condition ?-and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and humanity, he shewed none; mercilessly trampled upon both, -heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied their distresses-" [I have been in many a battle, an't please your honor, quoth Trim, sighing, but never in so melancholy a one as this. I would not have drawn a trigger in it against these poor souls, to have been made a general officer. Why, what do you understand of the affair? said Dr. Slop, (looking towards Trim, with something more of contempt than the Corporal's honest heart deserved)-What do you know friend, about this battle you talk of ?-I know, replied Trim, that I never refused quarter in my life to any man who cried out for it—but to a woman or a child, continued Trim, before I would level my musket at them, I would lose my life a thousand times.-Here's a crown for thee, Trim, to drink with Obadiah to-night, quoth my uncle Toby.—God bless your honor, replied Trim-I had rather these poor women and children had it.-Thou art an honest fellow, quoth my uncle Toby. My father nodded his head, as much as to say -and so he is.] LESSON CLXIX. Dirge of Al'aric, the Visigoth, Who stormed and spoiled the city of Rome, and was afterwards buried in the channel of the river Busentius, the water of which had been diverted from its course that the body might be interred.—EVERETT. WHEN I am dead, no pageant* train Ye shall not raise a marble bust Upon the spot where I repose; Ye shall not pile, with servile toil, Lay down the wreck of Power to rest; But ye the mountain stream shall turn, My gold and silver ye shall fling Back to the clods, that gave them bir But when beneath the mountain tide, * Pron. pad ́-junt. + See the note on page 390. Ye shall not rear upon its side Pillar or mound to mark the spot; My course was like a river deep, And where I went the spot was cursed, Nor blade of grass again was seen Where Alaric and his hosts had been.* See how their haughty barriers fail In judgment my triumphal car; And vengeance sat upon the helm, When, launched in fury on the flood, I ploughed my way through seas of blood, And in the stream their hearts had spilt Washed out the long arrears of guilt. Across the everlasting Alp I poured the torrent of my powers, And feeble Cæsars shrieked for help In vain within their seven-hilled towers I quenched in blood the brightest gem That glittered in their diadem, And struck a darker, deeper die ta as in far. And både my northern banners shine I My course is run, my errand done : Of glory. that adorns my name; My course is run, my errand done— LESSON CLXX. Lines written on visiting the beautiful burying-ground at New Haven.-N. FROTHINGHAM. ()! WHERE are they, whose all that earth could give This the last tribute love to love could pay, Attila was the king of the Huns, and, for many years, in the first half of the fifth century, was the terror both of Constantinople and Rome. Not ong after the death of Alaric, he invaded the Roman empire, at the head of half a million of barbarians, and with fire and sword laid waste many of its most fertile provinces. Into the bold sketch of Alaric, which is given in this Dirge, the poet, in the license of his art, has thrown sonic of the distinguishing features of Attila. It may be well to advise the youthful reader, that, as a matter of sober history, it was Attila, and not Alaric, who used to say that the grass never grew where his horse had trod; and that it was not Alaric, but Attila, who was called the Scourge of God. With this appellation the king of the Huns was so well pleased that he adopted it as one of his titles of honor. |