I

tion then, and the lust of rising in court favor? they humbly obeyed their prince, because in any But who would consent to his own and his country's case they deemed it impious to oppose his will. infamy, for the sake of promotion in a State which Just imagine Pallas vetoing, as it were, the Senate's offers its highest honors to the man who first flat- decree, moderating his own honors, and refusing, ters Pallas in the Senate? I pass by the fact that as too much, the fifteen million sesterces, yet conpretorian ornaments were pressed on a slave's senting to accept the pretorian ornaments as if they acceptance, for they were slaves who offered them. had been of less value. Imagine Cæsar, in prepass by the decree that the emperor would not sence of the Senate, obeying his freedman's wishes, only urge but compel Pallas to wear the golden or rather commands-for the freedman ruled his rings, for the Senate's majesty forbids the praetor* patron, when his wishes prevailed before the Sento wear irons. These are light matters and deserve ate. Imagine the Senate obsequiously declaring but a passing notice. What follows demands more that they had gratefully resolved to decree Pallas attention. The Senate gives Cæsar thanks in that surn, with his other honors,-ay, and would Pallas' name, (was the hall ever purified after such have persisted in their purpose but for the empeprofanation?) because he had not only distinguished ror's will, which it was impious to oppose in any him with the highest honors, but had vouchsafed to thing. And so there was need both of his own the Senate the privilege of testifying its affection modesty and of the Senate's loyalty, to prevent his towards him. Certainly, for what could better depriving the treasury of fifteen million sesterces. beseem the Senate than to show its devotion to In this, forsooth, above all things else, they would Pallas? It adds, that Pallas, (to whom they all have disobeyed, if disobedience had been pardonable professed themselves so much beholden,) might reap in any thing. Did you think that was all?-wait the well-earned reward of his singular fidelity and a little and hear what follows: Wherefore since it remarkable industry. You would think he had is expedient that the emperor's beneficence, ever subsidized armies for the republic, or enlarged the ready to commend and reward the well-deserving, bounds of its empire. To this it is added, since should be published everywhere, and especially the grateful liberality of the Senate and Roman where it may most incite to similar good deeds; in people could be displayed as well in no other way order that the distinguished fidelity, integrity and as by augmenting the resources of this most faith- diligence of Pallas in the discharge of his duties ful and economical guardian of the royal treasure. may provoke an honorable emulation, it is ordered This then was the Senate's ambition, this the that the particulars related in large detail by our people's triumphant joy, this the consummation of most excellent prince, on the 4th day of February grateful liberality, that the Senate should be allowed last passed, with the Senate's decree made thereto add to Pallas' wealth by a lavish donation from upon, be engraved on a brazen monument to be the public treasury! Hear what follows: The placed near the mailed statue of the deified Julius. Senate indeed wished to decree that fifteen mil-It was not enough for the Senate hall to witness lions of sesterces should be presented to him from such shame; but the most conspicuous spot is the treasury; and since his mind is so far removed selected that the record of infamy may be read from sordid avarice, that our public father should both by contemporaries and posterity. They were be earnestly entreated to compel him to yield to the pleased to perpetuate all the honors of this fasSenate's wish in this particular. For they had not tidious slave, those he disdained as well as those power to decree that the refractory man should be which, so far as the Senate was concerned, he dealt with by public authority; and therefore Pal- actually bore. His praetorian honors, like ancient las must be implored to indulge the Senate, and treaties, like the sacred laws, are sculptured and Cæsar himself, his master, be called in lest his inscribed on public monuments designed to be proud and intractable moderation should disdain the eternal. To think that the prince, the Senate and proffered fifteen millions. He did disdain their Pallas himself should have exhibited such egreoblation, which was all he could do, and in that gious-what shall I call it ?-for the arrogance of displayed more arrogance than if he had accepted Pallas, the submission of the emperor and the it. Yet the Senate, humbly complaining, converts abject servility of the Senate were thus decreed to that too into praise, in the following pathetic words: be placed before the eyes of all the world! Nor did But when our most excellent prince and public they blush to allege the reason of such meannessfather, at Pallas' request, desired that so much of the good and satisfactory reason, to wit, that Palthe decree as related to giving him fifteen millions las' reward might provoke others to zealous emulaof sesterces from the treasury might be rescinded; tion-so cheap and worthless were even those the Senate declared that they had willingly re- honors which Pallas scorned not to accept! Yet solved to offer that sum among the other honors men of honorable family were found who desired and decreed, as in discharge of a public debt to the strove to obtain what they have seen bestowed on a fidelity and diligence of Pallas; but that in this freedman and promised to slaves. I heartily rejoice

In the absence of the consul, the praetor was em- that my lot has not cast me upon those times, of which powered to convene or prorogue the Senate at discretion. the history scandalizes me as if I had lived in them.

TO NEPOS.

“Would you

You sympathize with me, I doubt not; for I know purpose, said among other things, how frank and warm your heart is; and therefore have your daughter die with me if I were put to you will more readily excuse me, as having shown death?" She replied, “I would, if she had lived as too little rather than too much feeling, although in long and happily with you as I with Pætus." Her some places indignation may have transported me friend's anxiety increased, and they watched her beyond epistolary propriety. Farewell. more closely. She perceived it and said, "Your labor is vain; you may make my death a hard and painful one, but death in some form you can not for bid." With these words she sprang from the I have remarked that the sayings and doings of chair, and struck her head violently against the illustrious men and women are not always cele- opposite wall, and immediately sunk to the floor. brated in proportion to their heroism; and this will When consciousness returned, "I told you," she appear by what Fannia told me yesterday. She is said, "that I would find a rough road to death, if the grand-daughter of that Arria who was her hus- you denied a smoother one." Now does not all band's solace and example in death. She related this, through which she forced her way to death, many things of her ancestor not inferior to that seem more than her thrice famed It is not painmagnanimous act, though unknown to the world; ful, Pætus!-and yet a halo of glory encircles her and I think you will be as well pleased to read the dying moments, while what I have told is buried in account as I was to hear it. Her husband Cæcinna oblivion. Thus you see is proved what I first Pætus and their son both lay ill at the same time, asserted, that the world's applause is not always and as it then seemed, of mortal sickness. The the meed of magnanimity. Farewell.

son died, a beautiful boy of modest manners, and beloved by his parents as much for his excellent promise as because their child. His mother prepared the funeral and conducted the obsequies, concealing his death from her husband. On entering his chamber, she pretended that the boy still lived and was recovering. When he inquired after his son, as he often did, she would say that he had rested well and had a fine appetite; and when unable to suppress her tears, she would leave the room and abandon herself to grief; then drying her eyes she would return with a serene aspect as if the mother's anguish had been left without. It was a noble deed, certainly, to unsheath the steel and bury it in her breast, and then withdrawing the poniard, present it to her husband with those immortal and almost divine words, Patus, it is not painful. But a vision of eternal fame may have incited her to this; and therefore it displayed more greatness of soul when, without such a motive, she restrained her tears, concealed her grief and assumed the air of a happy mother while her son lay dead on his couch. Pætus was of Scribonianus' party when he took up arms in Illyruim against Claudius; and on his leader's death was arrested and brought to Rome. On entering the ship Arria prayed the soldiers for leave to accompany him, "because," she urged, "an ex-consul is entitled to servant's assistance in preparing his food and making his toilet :-all this I will undertake alone." Her entreaties were disregarded. She then hired a fishing skiff, and thus followed the ship. In the presence of Claudius, she said to the wife of Scribonianus, who had appeared as a witness in the case, "Shall we listen to you, who bear to survive your husband though slain in your bosom ?"—from which it is plain that her high-spirited death was not the effect of a sudden impulse. Besides, when Thrasea, her son-in-law, in deprecating her fatal

NIGHT.

BY E. B. HALE.

"Oh! night, how queenly is thy majesty!" The maiden moon goes sailing by,

In gallant, gallant trim;
And right and left the fading stars

Hang flickering and dim.

Bath'd in the soft and liquid light,

Fair nature slumbering lies;
Hush'd is the busy hum of men,

And clos'd the weary eyes.

But 'round and 'round in merriest mood,
Beneath the greenwood tree,
The goblin trips the frolicksome reel,
And sports in lightsome glee.

And on the gently swinging boughs,
And 'mid the quivering leaves,
The elves of merry mischief full,
Sing to the whispering breeze.

And here and there, and ev'ry where,

Along the flowery green,
In joyous groups they cheerily trip,
Around their Fairy-Queen.

O, give me night, the glorious night,
The moonbeams in the sky!
'Tis the time to draw the breath of life,

And a glorious time to die!

Ay! time of times! fling off the coil,
The weary chain unbind;

But happy he who finds a worthy friend! Vir- | pery paths, hold together for mutual support, in tue, left to its own strength, often languishes; the order to walk with greater security.” example and approbation of a friend redouble it.

LOVE SKETCHES.

The wicked join hands to do evil. Should not Perhaps he is fearful at first, feeling himself in- the virtuous combine to do good? clined to many faults, and not possessing a proper consciousness of his own merits; the esteem of a man that he loves, raises him in his own estimation. He still experiences a secret shame that he does not possess all the worth which the indulgence of another supposes, but his courage increases by his efforts to correct himself. He rejoices that his good qualities have not escaped the notice of his friend; he is grateful to him for it; he has the ambition to acquire other claims to his esteem, and thanks to friendship, we sometimes see a man advancing vigorously towards perfection, who was far from it, and who otherwise would have remained so.

Make no strenuous efforts to acquire friends. It is better to have none at all, than to be forced to repent of having chosen them with precipitation. But when you have found one, honor him with an elevated friendship.

This noble affection has been sanctioned by all philosophers; it is sanctioned by religion. We find some beautiful examples of it in Scripture: "The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." But better still, friendship was consecrated by the Redeemer himself. He pillowed upon his bosom the head of the sleeping John, and when he was suspended upon the cross, before he expired, he pronounced these divine words full of filial love and friendship: "Mother, behold thy son,-Disciple, behold thy mother."

I believe that friendship, (I mean elevated, true friendship, which is based upon high esteem,) is almost necessary to man to draw him away from his propensities to evil. It imparts to the soul something poetical, a sublime and noble strength, without which he rises with difficulty above the miry slough of selfishness.

But this friendship once conceived and promised, engrave its duties upon your heart. They are many! nothing less than to render yourself all your life worthy of your friend.

Maiden! on whose placid features
Childhood's beauty lingers still,
Who hast never known the shadow,
Of a proud, imperious will,

Dreary hours are dark before thee,
Hours that try the soul they task,
But the skies are starry o'er thee,
Mercy grants what faith shall ask.

Care can never soil thy spirit,
Deepest grief shall soon depart,
For thou'rt strong in all the aiding,
Heaven sends the pure in heart.

Bertha half sat, half reclined on a lounge, and played idly with the fragrant cluster of roses she held in her hand. Clara was busily occupied with her embroidery, and Herbert was reading aloud to them from that lovely prose-poem, the "Home" of Frederika Bremer. A sweet and tranquil summer afternoon was drawing brightly to its close, and the undisturbed beauty of the world without seemed not more peaceful than this trio of dreaming hearts. Her bertread well and feelingly, and he had reached the touching portion of that fascinating home-chronicle, which paints the melancholy death of Henrich, his mother's most gifted and best beloved, the " summer-child" of many hopes and prayers.

"Close the book, Herbert," said Clara, as he paused at the conclusion of this sad scene, "such pictures are uselessly sorrowful, and the impression they leave is too painful. We take from life much that makes it great and glorious, by imagining an early doom the ordinary lot of the unusually talented. Such records depress the spirit, and I do not like, even in fiction, to dwell on the disappointments of hope."

"How different our tastes are!" returned Bertha; "I feel more sympathy with griefs and events like these, than with gayer ones, and to me there is something of a higher peace, a purer tendency, in the moral humility such tearful lessons teach us."

Some persons advise us not to contract a friendship with any one, because it takes too strong a hold upon the affections, distracts the mind and produces jealousy; but I hold with a very excellent philosopher, Francisco di Sales, who, in his Philothea, calls this " an evil counsel." He grants "And is there not enough in the daily and hourly that, in the cloister, it may be prudent to guard experience of our feebleness, in the frailty of our against particular attachments: "But in the world," own best purposes, to teach us humility?" replied says he, "it is necessary that those should unite Clara bitterly. "I would acquire in its stead strength together, who wish to combat under the banner and power, the strength to combat, the power of virtue, under the banner of the cross. Men control circumstances, to mould them to what they who live in an age where there are so many ob- were not, to what we will. It is time enough when stacles to be overcome in their way to Heaven, disappointment inevitably comes, to learn passively are like those travellers, who, in rugged and slip-to endure it."

to

Herbert's gaze was bent on her earnestly as she | I am wretched. My interest in things around me uttered these words, and though he doubted her is lessened, the poet's page has lost its charm, and philosophy, he did not contradict the proud expres- literature, the enchanting dream-world of my purer sions that so well became the impassioned beauty of days, is no longer a source of pleasure. Fiction their speaker. And yet they awoke reflections in wearies me; I am too really and earnestly sad to his mind, which grieved and perplexed him, and he find entertainment in the portrayal, however skilfelt as he marked the momentary and unconscious ful of imaginary events. Society gives me but dejection which at times flitted over her faultless momentary excitement and distraction; I return face, that the shadows were dark on her heart and from scenes of gaiety and my spirit feels its lonethat all was not peace within. The elasticity of liness the deeper from their contrast. I am too her youth that charm which returns not-was pre- proud to appear melancholy, and the effort to seem maturely vanishing and giving place to the care- happy is a constant trial. How many such mental tinted thoughts of womanhood, and he feared that, mysteries, such useless, and self-imposed martyrwith all her brilliant endowments, her self-relying doms as mine, the social world might show, and pride, she had none of the quiet, abiding principle, while each one mournfully feels his own depressing which brings even to the deluded visionary, an burden of care and its concealment, how little he enduring hope and solace. Herbert dwelt on this sympathizes with those who, like himself, are living calmly there was no sentiment in his heart for her on in silent and passive endurance, and not one now but the true, deep solicitude of a brother's light word is restrained by a kind thought for the affection, and that involuntary interest which ever heart, perchance breaking beside him! We know follows the destiny of the one we loved first. He not the mysteries that control our nature, that knew her faults well, and though he would wil make our impulses marvels to ourselves, changing lingly have sacrificed much for her happiness, she the tenor of our human destinies and altering the was dear less for herself than as Bertha's sister. future for our souls. We divide all that is dearest He admired her too, as men always admire beauty, in existence, pleasure is essentially a sympathy, and he felt that sympathy in her aspiring tenden- and our joys are in part the property of others to be cies, which the cultivated intuitively experience known and shared. But our griefs, life's shadows towards the mind which soars beyond the common- and its truths, the things that make us what we are place aims of life, and strives, however unwisely, and turn us aside from what we might have been, however vainly, to work out and realize the loftier the haunters of our memories, the diggers of our portion of its intellectual nature. There is in all graves-ah! they are wholly and undisturbedly the high spirits that have once hoped proudly and our own, to be buried in the stillness of the heart have watched the world well, an emotion of kind- that bore them, and covered with the dust of the ness, perhaps mingled with compassion, towards hopes they broke." "And yet I was the ambitious, and it may be, that with Herbert created for something better and higher than this this feeling strengthened, because he now regarded idle, complaining nothingness; I have strong yearnher tranquilly and philosophically. He had learned ings that might guide me upward to nobler aims, to reason on her character, to read at once its in- that might fulfil my holier dreamings. When I sufficiencies and its aspirations; he saw in them look on the past, brief and bright as it is for me, much to pity, yet something to approve, and he there is yet a sentiment of disappointment that so admired her more, because he loved her less. And many of my anticipations should already have well Clara knew this, and bitterly in her secret proved vain, that my womanhood has so faintly soul she felt and mourned it, and sometimes as she sustained, so feebly worked out the beautiful ideality looked on Bertha's innocent and placid face and of my childhood. It is a hard lot too, to be incessaw the guileless enjoyment of which it bore the santly pursued by this wild, tannting desire for the lovely impress, she would turn away in irrepressible admiration of the many, and yet to have so little regret, and thoughts would overcast her spirit, whose in common with them. I begin to believe that talent, sudden and envious sorrow startled and appalled her accompanied by such imaginative tendencies, is as they passed. nothing but a curse, and I would joyfully relin"Is all the purer and better portion of my nature quish every ray of intellectual superiority, to attain lost?" She wrote thus in her diary, "have I suf- the placid peacefulness that sheds so holy, so changefered one dream to concentrate every gentler and less a lustre over my sister's quiet and loving life. softer feeling, to prompt every impulse, to sway Well! this can not endure for ever; all things will every motive, and is all else harshness, despon- fade, even as hope fadeth, and we are but wanderers dency and wretchedness? I pause as I trace that and strangers here, and pilgrims-whither?" word, for the habit of concealment has grown to Bertha was alone, and her movements were be natural, and I can scarcely deal candidly with quick and excited as those of one whose thoughts my own thoughts. I would not willingly acknow- were unusually and painfully restless. Very difledge even to myself that such a change has swept ferent from her ordinary composed and pensive over me, and yet I may as well write as feel that happiness, was the trace of shadowy care now

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