transitory passion, and which had acquired its founda-tion in interest, now yielded to a superior claim. His freedom once obtained, the means were totally forgotten, and the unfortunate Yarico considered as a tax upon his bounty.

9. As soon as the vessel arrived at Barbadoes, the merchants crowded round it for the purpose of purchasing their slaves. The despicable Inkle was animated at the sight, and resolving to relieve himself of what he considered as a burthen, offered the beauteous Yarico, his amiable deliverer, to the highest bidder! It was in vain that she threw herself on her knees before him, or pleaded her tenderness or affection; the heart that could be dead to gratitude was lost to love; and the unfortunate Yarico was doomed to a life of slavery ! !

CHAPTER VI.

STORY OF ALCANDER AND SEPTIMIUS.

1. ALCANDER and Septimius were two Athenian students, whose taste for the arts and sciences became the foundation of their future friendship, and they were scarcely ever seen apart. Although Alcander's breast was animated by that tender sentiment, a still more lively one found entrance, and the fair Hypatia became the object of his love: He declared his passion and was accepted.

2. Septimius happened to have left the city, when his friend first saw the blooming fair one, and did not return until the day fixed upon for his marriage. The moment that introduced him to the view of such perfection was fatal to his peace; and the struggle between love and friendship became too violent for his resolution. A sudden and dangerous fever attacked him; and the unsuspicious Alcander introduced the object of his affection to assist him in his unwearied care of his friend.

3. The moment the physicians beheld Hypatia enter, they were no longer at a loss to account for their patient's illness; and, calling Alcander aside, they informed him of the nature of it, and also expressed their fears that Septimius' recovery was impossible! Tortured between the dread of losing the friend of his heart, and agonized at the idea of relinquishing the object of his af

fection, his anguish for some time deprived him of utterance; but, recovering that fortitude which had ever marked his conduct, he flew to the bed-side of his apparently dying friend, and promised to renounce his claim to Hypatia, if she consented to a union with Septimius.

4. Whether Hypatia had not been strongly attached to the amiable Alcander, or whether compassion urged her to accept the hand of his friend, is uncertain; but they were united, quitted Athens, and went directly to Septimius' house at Rome. Hypatia's friends, imagining Alcander had relinquished his betrothed bride for the sake of a rich reward,commenced an action against him for a breach of promise; and the judges, biased by the representations of his enemies, ordered that he should pay a heavier fine than his whole property amounted to. 5. The wretched Alcander was now reduced to the most melancholy situation; his friend absent, the object of his love lost, and his own character stigmatized with baseness! Being absolutely unable to pay the demand, his person became the property of his oppressors, and he was carried into the market place, and sold as a common slave. A Thracian merchant became his purchaser, and for several years he endured a life of torment. At length liberty presented itself to his view, and the opportunity of flight was not to be rejected. Alcander ardently embraced it, and arrived at Rome in the dusk of the evening.

6. Friendless, hopeless, and forlorn, the generous Alcander had no place of shelter, and necessity compelled him to seek a lodging in a gloomy cavern. Two robbers, who had long been suspected to frequent that spot, arrived there soon after midnight, and, disputing about their booty, fortunately did not perceive his presence. One of them at length was so exasperated against his companion, that, drawing a dagger from his side, he plunged it into his heart, and left him, weltering in his blood at the mouth of the cave.

7. Alcander's miseries had been so accumulated, and his distress so undeserved, that his mind at last was worn down by his afflictions, and he became indifferent to every thing around him. In this situation he was discovered, and dragged to a court of justice, as the mur

derer of the man whose body had been found in the cave. Weary of existence, he did not deny the charge, and sentence was going to be pronounced against him, when the murderer, smitten with a pang of conscience, entered the court, and avowed the fact.

8. Astonishment seized every mind, but particularly that of the judge who was going to condemn him; who, examining the countenance of a man capable of such singular conduct, discovered the features of his beloved friend Alcander. Rising from the throne of justice, and flying to the bar of guilt, he caught his suffering Alcander in his arms, and, after shedding over him tears of joy and compassion, presented him to the Senators, as a man whose disinterested conduct had been the means of preserving his own existence.

CHAPTER VII.

CHARACTER OF A TRUE FRIEND.*

1. CONCERNING the man you call your friend, tell me, will he weep with you in the hour of distress? Will he faithfully reprove you to your face, for actions for which others are ridiculing, or censuring you behind your back? Will he dare stand forth in your defence when detraction is secretly aiming its deadly weapon at your reputation? Will he acknowledge you with the same cordiality, and behave to you with the same friendly attention in the company of your superiors in rank and fortune, as when the claims of pride or vani ty do not interfere with those of friendship?

2. If misfortunes and losses should oblige you to retire into the walk of life, in which you cannot appear with the same distinction, or entertain your friends with the same liberality as formerly, will he still think himself happy in your society? And, instead of gradually with drawing himself from an unprofitable connexion, take pleasure in professing himself your friend, and cheerfully assist you to support the burden of your afflictions?

3. When sickness shall call you to retire from the gay and busy scenes of the world, will he follow you into your gloomy retreat, and listen with attention to your See Rule V page 17.

tale of woe? Will he administer the balm of consolation to your fainting spirit? And, lastly, when death shall burst asunder every earthly tie, will he shed a tear upon your grave, and lodge the dear remembrance of your mutual friendship in his heart, as a treasure never to be resigned? The man who will not do all this, may be your companion, your flatterer, your seducer-but, believe me, be is not your friend.

CHAPTER VIII.

ON ELOCUTION.

1. YOUR very bad enunciation, my son, gives me real concern; and I congratulate both you and myself, that I was informed of it, as I hope in time to prevent it; and shall ever think myself, as hereafter you will, I am sure, think yourself, infinitely obliged to your friend, for informing me of it. If this ungraceful and disagreeable manner of speaking had, either by your negligence or mine, become habitual to you, as in a couple of years more it would have been, what a figure would you have made in company, or in a public assembly! Who would have liked you in the one, or attended to you in the other?

2. Read what Cicero and Quintilian say of enunciation, and see what a stress they lay upon the gracefulness of it; nay, Cicero goes further, and even maintains that a good figure is necessary for an orator; and, particularly, that he must not be overgrown and clumsy. He shows by it, that he knew mankind well, and knew the powers of an agreeable figure and a graceful manner. Men are much oftener led by their hearts than by their understandings. The way to the heart is through the senses; please their eyes and their ears, and the work is half done.

3. I have frequently known a man's fortune decided forever by his first address. If it is pleasing, people are hurried involuntarily into a persuasion that he has a merit, which possibly he has not; as, on the other hand, if it is ungraceful, they are immediately prejudiced against him, and unwilling to allow him the merit it may be he has. Nor is this sentiment so unjust and unreasonable as at first it may seem: for if a man has parts, he must.

know of how much consequence it is to him to have a graceful manner of speaking, and a genteel and pleasing address; he will cultivate and improve them to the utmost. 4. What is the constant and just observation as to all actors upon the stage? Is it not that those who have the most sense always speak the best, though they may not have the best voices? They will speak plainly, distinctly, and with a proper emphasis, be their voices ever so bad. Had Roscius spoken quick, thick, and ungracefully, I will answer for it, that Cicero would not have thought him worth the oration which he made in his favour.

5. Words were given us to communicate our ideas by; and there must be something inconceivably absurd in uttering them in such a manner, as that either people cannot understand them, or will not desire to understand. them. I tell you truly and sincerely, that I shall judge of your parts by your speaking gracefully or ungracefully. If you have parts, you will never be at rest till you have brought yourself to the habit of speaking the most gracefully; for I aver that it is in your power.

6. You will desire your tutor that you may read aloud to him every day; and that he will interrupt and correct you every time you read too fast, do not observe the proper stops, or lay a wrong emphasis. You will take care to open your teeth when you speak; to articulate every word distinctly; and to beg of any friend you speak to, to remind you, and stop you, if ever you fall into the rapid and unintelligible mutter.

7. You will read aloud to yourself, and tune your utterance to your own ear; and read at first much slower than you need do, in order to correct that shameful habit of speaking faster than you ought. In short, you will make it your business, your study, and your pleasure to speak well if you think right. Therefore what I have said is more than sufficient if you have sense; and ten times more would not be sufficient if you have not so here I rest it.