sudden attack, he began to inform Petrucci that the pope had bestowed an employment on his son, of which he had to deliver to him the credentials. This he did with such hesitation and in so desultory a manner, that it was scarcely possible to collect his meaning. Petrucci also observed that he frequently changed colour, and at times turned towards the door, as if giving a signal to some one to approach.— Alarmed at his manner, and probably aware of his character, Petrucci suddenly rushed out of the chamber, and called together the guards and attendants. By attempting to retreat, the archbishop confessed his guilt. In pursuing him, Petrucci met with Giacopo Poggio, whom he caught by the hair, and throwing him on the ground, delivered him into the custody of his followers. The rest of the magistrates and their attendants seized upon such arms as the place supplied, and the implements of the kitchen became formidable weapons in their hands. Having secured the doors of the palace, they furiously attacked their scattered and intimidated enemies, who no longer attempted resistance. W. ROSCOE 215. DEATH OF LORENZO DE' MEDICI. At this interesting period, when the mind of Lorenzo, relieved from the weight of its important concerns, became more sensibly alive to the emotions of friendship, Politiano entered his chamber. Lorenzo no sooner heard his voice than he called on him to approach, and, raising his languid arms, clasped the hands of Politiano in his own, at the same time steadfastly regarding him with a placid and even a cheerful countenance. Deeply affected at this silent but unequivocal proof of esteem, Politiano could not suppress his feelings, but, turning his head aside, attempted as much as possible to conceal his sobs and his tears. Perceiving his agitation, Lorenzo still continued to grasp his hand, as if intending to speak to him when his passion had subsided, but finding him unable to resist its impulse, he slowly, and as it were unintentionally, relaxed his hold, and Politiano, hastening into an inner apartment, flung himself on a bed, and gave way to his grief. Having at length composed himself, he returned into the chamber, when Lorenzo again called to him, and inquired with great kindness why Pico of Mirandula had not once paid him a visit during his sickness. Politiano apologized for his friend, by assuring Lorenzo that he had only been deterred by the apprehension that his presence might be troublesome. 'On the contrary,' repied Lorenzo, ‘if his journey from the city be not troublesome to him, I shall rejoice to see him before I take my final leave of you.' Pico accordingly came, and seated himself at the side of Lorenzo, whilst Politiano, reclining on the bed, near the knees of his reverend benefactor, as if to prevent any extraordinary exertion of his declining voice, prepared for the last time to share in the pleasures of his conversation. After excusing himself to Pico for the task he had imposed upon him, Lorenzo expressed his esteem for him in the most affectionate terms, professing that he should meet his death with more cheerfulness after this last interview. He then changed the subject to more familiar and lively topics, and it was on this occasion that he expressed, not without some degree of jocularity, his wishes that he could have obtained a reprieve, until he could have completed the library destined to the use of his auditors. W. ROSCOE 216. JANE GREY AND EDWARD. When Jane Grey was surprised with Plato in her hand, a sober hope might have conjectured, that if ever there was a marriage made in heaven, if ever earthly pair was predestined to bless each other and their country, such a couple were Jane Grey and her cousin Edward. Of one blood, and companionable age, their studies, talents, virtues, faith the same; each seemed a "fair divided excellence," to be perfected in holy union. He, the gentle offspring of a most ungentle sire; she, the meek daughter of the haughtiest of women; both the elect exceptions of their races, as if the saintly Margaret of Lancaster, cutting off the intermediate line of Tudors, had entailed her nature on these her distant progeny. But it was not to be so. Their fortunes were never ordained to meet, but ever to run parallel. Each bore awhile the royal title while others exercised the sovereign power. Both gave forced assent to deeds done in their name, which their hearts approved not. Both lived to see their kindred dragged, not guiltless, to the scaffold, though Jane was spared the agony of assenting to their execution. In fine, they both died young but who can say that either died untimely? Rather be it thought, that they had done their work; they had fitted themselves for immortality: and as for the work of the world, what God purposes, God will do, using indifferently the agencies of good and evil, as of day and night, sunshine and storm. Nor be it supposed that He whose name is Merciful, was less merciful in calling Jane to himself by the swift stroke of an axe, than in conducting Edward homewards by the slow declivity of a consumption. H. COLERIDGE 217. CORTES APPOINTED BY VELASQUEZ COMMANDER OF THE ARMAMENT FITTED OUT BY HIM AGAINST NEW SPAIN, A. D. 1518. Cortes receiving his commission with the warmest expressions of respect and gratitude to the governor, immediately erected his standard before his own house, appeared in a military dress, and assumed all the ensigns of his new dignity. His utmost influence and activity were exerted in persuading many of his friends to engage in the service, and in urging forward the preparations for the voyage. All his own funds, together with what money he could raise by mortgaging his lands and Indians, were expended in purchasing military stores and provisions, or in supplying the wants of such of his officers as were unable to equip themselves in a manner suited to their rank. Inoffensive, and even laudable as this conduct was, his disappointed competitors were malicious enough to give it a turn to his disadvantage: They represented him as aiming already, with little disguise, at establishing an independent authority over his troops, and endeavouring to secure their respect or love by his ostentatious and interested liberality. They reminded Velasquez of his former dissensions with the man in whom he now reposed so much confidence, and foretold that Cortes would be more apt to avail himself of the power, which the governor was inconsiderately putting in his hands, to avenge past injuries than to requite late obligations. W. ROBERTSON INTRODUCTION TO HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 218. I purpose to write the history of England from the accession of King James the Second down to a time which is within the memory of men still living. I shall recount the errors which, in a few months, alienated a loyal gentry and priesthood from the house of Stuart. I shall trace the course of that revolution which terminated in the long struggle between our sovereigns and their parliaments, and bound up together the rights of the people and the title of the reigning dynasty. I shall relate how the new settlement was, during many troubled years, successfully defended against foreign and domestic enemies; how, under that settlement, the authority of law and the security of property were found to be compatible with a liberty of discussion and of individual action never before known; how, from the auspicious union of order and freedom, sprang a prosperity of which the annals of human affairs had furnished no example; how our country, from a state of ignominious vassalage rapidly rose to the place of umpire among European powers; how her opulence and her martial glory grew together; how, by wise and resolute good faith, was gradually established a public credit fruitful of marvels which to the statesman of any former age would have seemed incredible; how a gigantic commerce gave birth to a maritime power, compared with which every other maritime power, ancient or modern, sinks into insignificance; how Scotland, after ages of enmity, was at length united to England, not merely by legal bonds, but by indissoluble ties of interest and affection; how, in America, the British colonies rapidly became far mightier and wealthier than the realms which Cortes and Pizarro had added to the dominions of Charles the Fifth; how, in Asia, British adventurers founded an empire not less splendid and more durable than that of Alexander. LORD MACAULAY 219. PROFLIGACY OF POLITICIANS IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES II. During these events no man could be a stirring and thriving politician who was not prepared to change with every change of fortune. It was only in retirement that any person could long keep the character either of a steady Royalist or of a steady Republican. One who, in such an age, is determined to attain civil greatness must renounce all thought of consistency. Instead of affecting immutability in the midst of endless mutation, he must be always on the watch for the indications of a coming reaction. He must seize the exact moment for deserting a falling cause. Having gone all lengths with a faction while it was uppermost, he must suddenly extricate himself from it when its difficulties begin, must assail it, must persecute it, must enter on a new career of power and prosperity in company with new associates. His situation naturally developes in him to the highest degree a peculiar class of abilities and a peculiar class of vices. He becomes quick of observation and fertile of resource. He catches without effort the tone of any sect or party with which he chances to mingle. He discerns the signs of the times with a sagacity which to the multitude appears miraculous, with a sagacity resembling that with which a veteran police officer pursues the faintest indications of crime, or with which a Mohawk warrior follows a track through the woods. But we shall seldom find in a statesman so trained, integrity, constancy, or any of the virtues of the noble family of Truth. He has no faith in any doctrine, no zeal for any cause. He has seen so many old institutions swept away, that he has no reverence for prescription. He has seen so many new institutions from which much had been expected produce mere disappointment, that he has no hope of improvement. He sneers alike at those who are anxious to preserve and at those who are eager to reform. There is nothing in the state which he could not, without a scruple or a blush, join in defending or in destroying. Fidelity to opinions and to friends seems to him mere dulness and wrongheadedness. Politics he regards, not as a science of which the object is the happiness of mankind, but as an exciting game of mixed chance and skill, at which a dexterous and lucky player may win an estate, a coronet, perhaps a crown, and at which one rash move may lead to the loss of fortune and of life. Ambition, which, in good times and in good minds, is half a virtue, now, disjoined from every elevated and philanthropic sentiment, becomes a selfish cupidity scarcely less ignoble than avarice. LORD MACAULAY 220. CICERO. But it was in the endurance of calamity rather than the defiance of danger that the courage of Cicero was deficient. The orator, whose genius lay in the arts of peace and persuasion, exhibited on more than one occasion a martial spirit worthy of other habits and a ruder training. In the contest with Catilina he displayed all the moral confidence of a veteran general: in the struggle with Antonius he threw himself without reserve into a position where there was no alternative but to conquer or to perish. In the earlier conflict he had still his fame to acquire, his proud ascendancy to establish; and the love of praise and glory inspired him with the audacity which makes and justifies its own success. But in the later, he courted danger for the sake of retaining the fame he so dearly prized. He had once |