the adjacent country were obliged for safety to abandon their houses, and retire to a great distance. Amidst the hurry and confusion of the scene, whilst every one was carrying away whatever they deemed most precious, two sons, in the height of their solicitude to preserve their wealth and goods, recollected that their father and mother, who were both very old, were unable to save themselves by flight.

5. Filial tenderness set aside every other consideration. "Where,” cried the generous youths, "shall we find a more precious treasure than those who gave us being?" This said, the one took up his father on his shoulders, and the other his mother, and they thus made their way through the surrounding smoke and flames. The fact struck all beholders with admiration; and ever since, the path they took in their retreat has been called "The Field of the Pious," in memory of this pleasing incident.

6. While Octavius was at Samos, after the famous battle of Actium, which made him master of the world, he held a council in order to try the prisoners who had been engaged in Antony's party. Among the rest was brought before him. Metullus, an old man oppressed with infirmities and ill-fortune, whose son sat as one of the judges. At first the son did not recognize the father. At length, however, having recollected his features, the generous youth, instead of being ashamed to own him, ran to embrace the old man, and cried bitterly.

7. Then, returning toward the tribunal, "Cæsar," said he, "my father has been your enemy, and I your officer; he deserves to be punished, and I to be rewarded. The favor I desire of you is, either to save him on my account, or to order me to be put to death with him." As was to be expected, all the judges were touched with pity at this affecting scene; and Octavius himself relenting, granted to old Metellus his life and liberty.

8. The Emperor Decimus, intending and desiring to place the crown on the head of Decius, his son, the young prince refused it in the most strenuous manner. "I am afraid," said he, “lest, being made an emperor, I should forget that I am a son. I had rather be no emperor and a dutiful son, than an emperor and a disobedient son. Let, then, my father bear the rule; and let this only be my empire, to obey with all humility whatsoever he shall command me."

9. Thus the solemnity was waived, and the young man was not crowned, unless it be thought that this signal piety towards an indulgent parent was a more glorious diadem than the crown of an empire.

M'CULLOCH.

LESSON LXXXIX.

DEATH OF THE CENTURY.

1. LAST night died suddenly at twelve o'clock, that celebrated character, Mr. Eighteenth Century, at the great age of one hundred years. If ever a being was entitled to the appellation of "Citizen of the World," it was he.

2. There was not a contemporary nation, or creature upon earth, that did not, more or less, enjoy his presence, but with very different degrees of advantage. Realms and states, which at his birth had scarcely a being or a name, have, under his auspices, risen into opulence and splendor; whilst others, then at the summit of glory, have perished, or are mouldering in decay.

3. The changes and vicissitudes which he wrought among mankind, are still more numerous and diversified. Looking back on the quick succession of generations, the rapid growth and decline of man, he seems to have given health, strength, wealth and beauty, merely to take them away. Of the myr

iads who were the companions of his infant years, very few survive him, and of that few, not one possessed of sensibility enough to lament his loss.

4. In the case of a personage who filled such enormous space, whose time was courted by some, loathed by others, and interesting to all, it cannot be expected that all should agree in one uniform character. Various, therefore, will be the epitaphs which local prejudices and interests will engrave on his tomb.

5. But however countries or individuals may differ, in their estimation of the political and moral character of the deceased, they will acknowledge, at the same time, that he did much good to the general cause; that he produced and improved several arts and sciences; superintended a voyage round the world, by Lord Anson, in 1744; introduced a general peace in 1748; discovered Otaheite in 1765; the longitude the year after, and the Georgium Sidus in 1781.

6. To the last moment of his existence Mr. Eighteenth Century enjoyed the most perfect state of health, and the use of all his faculties undiminished. His days, however, were numbered, and it was long foreseen that he could not survive that period at which his ancestors, for seventeen generations past, had made their final exit.

7. He was buried without pomp and ceremony, the very moment of his dissolution, in the family vault of eternity, whither all his offspring, born in his lifetime, had been consigned before him. In this melancholy trial of outliving all his children and friends, he far exceeded the famous °Priam.

8. His immediate offspring were one hundred sons, whom he called Years. He had from these 36,500 grandsons and granddaughters, called Days and Nights; 876,000 great grandchildren married into the family of the Hours; 52,560,000 great great grandchildren, distinguished by the name of

Minutes; and 3,153,600,000 great, great, great grandchildren (of a pigmy race) dwindled into Seconds.

9. He is succeeded by a posthumous child, born the very instant after his decease, and called Nineteenth Century.

AN INDIAN'S GRATITUDE.

1. Now had the autumn day gone by,
And evening's yellow shade

Had wrapt the mountains and the hills,
And lengthened o'er the glade.
The honey bee had sought her hive,
The bird her sheltered nest,
And in the hollow valley's gloom

Both wind and wave had rest.

2. And to a cotter's hut that eve

There came an Indian chief;
And in his frame was weariness,
And in his face was grief.
The feather o'er his head that danced,
Was weather-soiled and rent,
And broken were his bow and spear,
And all his arrows spent.

3. And meek and humble was his speech;
He knew the white man's hand
Was turned against those wasted tribes,
Long scourged from the land.
He prayed but for a simple draught
Of water from the well,
And a poor morsel of the food

That from his table fell.

4. He said that his old frame had toiled
A wide and weary way,
O'er sunny lakes and savage hills,

And through the brakes that day.
Yet when he saw they scoffed his words,
He turned away in wo,

And cursed them not, but only mourned
That they should shame him so.

5. When many years had flowed away,
That herdsman of the hill

Went out into the wilderness,

The wolf and bear to kill-
To scatter the red deer, and slay

The panther in his lair;

And chase the rapid moose that ranged
The sunless forests there.