his intellect, and the habit of close, vigorous application which he acquired early in life, enabled him, at will, to collect his thoughts, and to fix them wholly, and for a sufficient length of time, on any subject under his consideration. Hence, whatever he did, was well done, and with comparative ease.

And hence too, he would have excelled in every pursuit in which he had engaged, or on whatever subject to which he had turned his attention. His grammatical works have obtained so much celebrity, and they exhibit so high a degree of excellence, that it might not unreasonably be supposed, grammar was the principal study of his life; but it did not particularly engage his attention, until a short time previous to the publication of his first work on that subject.

Before he began any literary work, or engaged in any undertaking, he considered what was useful, practicable, and excellent. His imagination did not bewilder him with a diversity of plans and views. A few obvious and judicious means of accomplishing the end proposed, immediately presented themselves to his mind. These he considered with attention; selected from them what he thought best; and then proceeded to action, without any agitating hope of success, or fear of failure.

He pursued a strait forward path; not unnecessarily retracing his steps, nor wasting his powers in idle wanderings, or useless cogitations. He formed a grand outline of what he proposed, from which he seldom deviated : then he filled up all the parts successively; overcoming the difficulties as they occurred, and, on no account, suffering them to accumulate. He never undertook any thing to which he was not more than equal; and he seldom relinquished any thing which he had undertaken.

LESSON XCV.

Character of Washington.-AMES.

THERE has scarcely appeared a really great man, whose character has been more admired in his life time, or less correctly understood by his admirers. When it is com

prehended, it is no easy task to delineate its excellencies in such a manner as to give to the portrait both interest and resemblance; for it requires thought and study to understand the true ground of the superiority of his character over many others, whom he resembled in the principles of action, and even in the manner of acting. But perhaps he excels all the great men that ever lived in the steadiness of his adherence to his maxims of life, and in the uniformity of all his conduct to the same maxims.

These maxims, though wise, were yet not so remarkable for their wisdom, as for their authority over his life; for, if there were any errors in his judgment, (and he discovered as few as any man,) we know of no blemishes in his virtue. He was the patriot without reproach; he loved his country well enough to hold his success in serving it an ample recompense. Thus far self-love and love of country coincided; but when his country needed sacrifices that no other man could, or perhaps would, be willing to make, he did not even hesitate. This was virtue in its most exalted character.

More than once he put his fame at hazard, when he had reason to think it would be sacrificed, at least in this age. Two instances cannot be denied; when the army was disbanded, and again, when he stood, like Leonidas at the pass of Thermopyla, to defend our independence against France. It is, indeed, almost as difficult to draw his character, as the portrait of Virtue. The reasons are similar our ideas of moral excellence are obscure, because they are complex, and we are obliged to resort to illustrations.

Washington's example is the happiest to show what virtue is; and, to delineate his character, we naturally expatiate on the beauty of virtue; much must be felt, and much imagined. His pre-eminence is not so much to be seen in the display of any one virtue, as in the possession of them all, and in the practice of the most difficult. Hereafter, therefore, his character must be studied before it will be striking; and then it will be admitted as a model, a precious one to a free republic. It is no less difficult to speak of his talents. They were adapted to lead, without dazzling mankind; and to draw forth and employ the talents of others, without being misled by

them. In this he was certainly superiour, that he neither mistook nor misapplied his own.

His great modesty and reserve would have concealed them, if great occasions had not called them forth; and then, as he never spoke from the affectation to shine, nor acted from any sinister motives, it is from their effects only that we are to judge of their greatness and extent. In public trusts, where men, acting conspicuously, are cautious, and in those private concerns where few conceal or resist their weaknesses, Washington was uniformly' great, pursuing right conduct from right maxims His talents were such as assist a sound judgment, and ripen with it.

His prudence was consummate, and seemed to take the direction of his powers and passions; for, as a soldier, he was more solicitous to avoid mistakes that might be fatal, than to perform exploits that are brilliant; and, as a statesman, to adhere to just principles, however old, than to pursue novelties; and therefore, in both characters, his qualities were singularly adapted to the interest, and were tried in the greatest perils of the country. His habits of inquiry were so far remarkable, that he was never satisfied with investigating, nor desisted from it, so long as he had less than all the light that he could obtain upon a subject, and then he made his decision without bias."

This command over the partialities that so generally stop men short, or turn them aside in their pursuit of truth, is one of the chief causes of his unvaried course of right conduct in so many difficult scenes, where every human actor must be presumed to err. If he had strong passions, he had learned to subdue them, and to be moderate and mild. If he had weaknesses, he concealed them, which is rare, and excluded them from the government of his temper and conduct, which is still more rare. If he loved fame, he never made improper compliances for what is called popularity.

The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that will last forever; yet it was rather the effect, than the motive of his conduct. Some future Plutarch will search for a parallel to his character. Epaminondas is perhaps the brightest name of all antiquity. Our Washington resembled him in the purity and ardour of his patriotism; and like him he first exalted the glory of his country. There, it is to

be hoped, the parallel ends; for Thebes fell with Epaminondas. But such comparisons cannot be pursued far without departing from the similitude. For we shall find it as difficult to compare great men as great rivers.

Some we admire for the length and rapidity of their current, and the grandeur of their cataracts; others for the majestic silence and fulness of their streams: we cannot bring them together to measure the difference of their waters. The unambitious life of Washington, declining fame, yet courted by it, seemed, like the Ohio, to choose its long way through solitudes, diffusing fertility; or, like his own Potomac, widening and deepening his channel as he approaches the sea, and displaying most the usefulness and serenity of his greatness towards the end of his course. Such a citizen would do honour to any country. The constant affection and veneration of his country will show, that it was worthy of such a citizen.

LESSON XCVI.

Death of Socrates.-MORAL INSTRUCTOR.

SOCRATES, having been accused by his enemies, of whom the best men frequently have the greatest number, and brought to a public trial, on a variety of frivolous and mostly false charges, was condemned, by a majority of five hundred judges, to suffer death by drinking a decoction of hemlock, which he submitted to, with undaunted firmness and composure. One accusation was, that he denied the fabulous deities adored by his country; which if true, would have been one of the most magnanimous and glorious deeds he could have been guilty of. He, however, denies the charge, and cites the sacrifices he had made to them, in the temples and in his own house.

He was accused of corrupting and leading astray the youth, there being mischievous and abandoned men found among those who had been his pupils. To which he makes the following defence: "I am accused of corrupting the youth, and of instilling dangerous maxims into them, as well in regard to the worship of the gods, as the rules of government. You know, Athenians, that I never

made it my profession, to teach; nor can envy, however violent against me, reproach me with ever having sold my instructions. I have an undeniable evidence for me in this respect, which is my poverty.

"Always equally ready to communicate my thoughts either to the rich or poor, and to give them entire leisure to question or answer me, I lend myself to every one who is desirous of becoming virtuous; and if amongst those who hear me, there are any who prove either good or bad, neither the virtues of the one, nor the vices of the other, to which I have not contributed, are to be ascribed

to me.

"My whole employment is to persuade young and old against too much love for the body, for riches, and all other precarious things of whatever nature they be, and against too little regard for the soul, which ought to be the object of their affection: for I incessantly urge to you, that virtue does not proceed from riches, but on the contrary, riches from virtue; and that all the other goods of human life, as well public as private, have their source in the same principle.

"And what is the cause that when others are under a necessity to procure their delicacies from abroad, at an exorbitant rate, I can indulge in pleasures far more exquisite, by recurring to the reflections in my own mind? If to speak in this manner be to corrupt youth, I confess, Athenians, that I am guilty, and deserve to be punished." "Pass on me what sentence you please, Athenians, but I can neither repent nor change my conduct."

On hearing his final sentence, addressing himself to the judges with a noble tranquillity, "I am going," said he, "to suffer death by your order, to which nature had condemned me from the first moment of my birth; but my accusers will suffer no less from infamy and injustice by the decrees of truth."

While in prison, Socrates was notified by his friends that his jailer was bribed, and that it was in his power to escape the fatal destiny which awaited him, which he was pressingly urged to do. But he sternly rejected the proposition, on the principle that it would be unjust and shameful to violate and evade the laws of the republic, even in their cruel excesses; having repeatedly pledged