him are shades that set off his good qualities. Misfortune cuts down the little vanities that, in prosperous times, serve as so many spots in his virtues; and gives a tone of humility that makes his worth more amiable. His spectators, who enjoy a happier lot, are less prone to detract from it, through envy, and are more disposed, by compassion, to give him the credit he deserves, and perhaps even to magnify it. I speak not of Andre's conduct in this affair as a philosopher, but as a man of the world. The authorized maxims and practices of war are the satires of human nature. They countenance almost every species of seduction as well as violence; and the general who can make most traitors in the army of his adversary, is frequently most applauded. On this scale we acquit Andre; while we could not but condemn him, if we were to examine his conduct by the sober rules of philosophy and moral rectitude. It is, however, a blemish on his fame, that he once intended to prostitute a flag: about this, a man of nice honor ought to have had a scruple; but the temptation was great; let his misfortunes cast a veil over his error. HORATIUS, A LAY OF ANCIENT ROME.-MACAULAY. Lars Porsena of Clusium By the Nine Gods he swore Should suffer wrong no more. East and west, and south and north And tower, and town, and cottage, Shame on the false Etruscan Who lingers in his home, The horsemen and the footmen From many a stately market-place; From many a fruitful plain; From many a lonely hamlet, There be thirty chosen prophets, Both morn and evening stand: And with one voice the Thirty Have their glad answer given: To Clusium's royal dome; And hang round Nurscia's altars The golden shields of Rome." And now hath every city Now, from the rock of Tarpeian, Could the wan burghers spy The line of blazing villages Red in the midnight sky. The fathers of the city, They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came To eastward and to westward Have spread the Tuscan bands: Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote, In Crustumerium stands. Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain; Astur hath storm'd Janiculum, And the stout guards are slain. I wis in all the senate, There was no heart so bold, Forthwith uprose the consul, Uprose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns, And hied them to the wall. They held a council standing Before the River-gate; Short time was there, ye well may guess, For musing or debate. Out spoke the consul roundly: "The bridge must straight go down; For, since Janiculum is lost, Naught else can save the town." Just then a scout came flying, All wild with haste and fear; "To arms to arms! Sir Consul; Lars Porsena is here." On the low hills to westward And saw the swarthy storm of dust And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come; Now through the gloom appears, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, Fast by the royal standard, By the right wheel rode Mamilius, And by the left false Sextus, That wrought the deed of shame. But the consul's brow was sad And the consul's speech was low, And darkly look'd he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. "Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, Then out spake brave Horatius. And the temples of his gods. "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, Then out spake Spurius Lartius; And keep the bridge with thee." "Horatius," quoth the consul, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man help'd the poor, Then lands were fairly portion'd; Now while the three were tightening And Fathers mix'd with commons Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came flashing back the noonday light, Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, The Three stood calm and silent · And a great shout of laughter And forth three chiefs came spurring To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, To win the narrow pass. And meanwhile axe and lever And now the bridge hangs tottering "Come back, come back, Horatius !" "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall !" Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back: And, as they pass'd, beneath their feet And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have cross'd once more. But with a crash like thunder Fell every loosen'd beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Rose from the walls of Rome And like a horse unbroken |