But he had no love of knowledge, preferring sports or idleness, having no correct value of the preciousness of time.

When he was but fourteen years of age, his father permitted him to have a share in the government, hoping thus to elevate him above trifling pursuits, and implant in his young heart an interest for the people over whom he was appointed to rule. But no sooner was he in possession of power, than he began to abuse it. He grew haughty, and despised the rights of others, studying only his own selfish gratification.

He was nineteen, when, by the death of his father, he a.s.sumed the supreme authority. For a time his course was more judicious than could have been expected, as he consented to take the advice of aged counsellors, who were experienced in the cares of state. Afterwards, he rejected their guidance, and would listen only to the suggestions of young and rash advisers. Ere long he became unjust and cruel, taking away life as his own caprices dictated.

Among some of his most ill.u.s.trious victims were the Quintillian brothers, Maximin and Cardia.n.u.s. They were distinguished for wealth and liberality, and a zealous kindness in relieving the poor. They were also remarkable for their mutual affection, their studies and pleasures being the same. They read the same books, and so uniform was their flow of thought, that they could pursue together the composition of the same treatise. Such delight had they in each other's company, that they were seldom seen separate, and had no idea of divided or opposing interests.

Rome admired this beautiful example of fraternal love, pointing them out as two forms animated by one soul. Without just cause, Commodus put to death these two brothers, who, having lived in each other's life, were executed at the same time.

In the midst of such barbarities, this bad Emperor was amusing himself with the hunting of wild beasts, and the company of vain and vicious people. His excesses were at length terminated by violence, being strangled after a reign of twelve years, December 31st, 192. His memory was execrated by those over whom he had ruled. Indolence and hatred of knowledge in his boyhood, and love of wicked a.s.sociates in youth, brought the vices of a bad heart to early ripeness, so that he was at once dreaded and despised.

In a.n.a.lyzing his character, it will be found in two respects similar to that of Rehoboam, king of Israel, in his rejection of the advice of aged counsellors, to follow the guidance of the young, and in being the unwise son of a wise father.

We see that the honours won by ill.u.s.trious ancestors will avail us nothing, unless by our own virtues we sustain their reputation. Indeed, if we take a different course, our disgrace will be deeper, as the career of the bad Emperor, which we have briefly traced, seems darker when contrasted with the l.u.s.tre and glory of his predecessor.

Therefore, let every child of a good and distinguished parent, give added diligence, that he may not blemish the memory of those whom he loves, or stain the brightness of a transmitted name.

Bonaparte at St. Helena.

The drama sinks, the tragic scene is o'er, And he who rul'd their springs, returns no more; He, who with mystery cloth'd, pale wonder chain'd, And all mankind his auditors detain'd, Whose plot unfolding agoniz'd the world, Resigns his mask, and from the stage is hurl'd.

When from the wilds of Corsica he broke, To s.n.a.t.c.h the sceptre and to bind the yoke, He rais'd the curtain with his dagger's blade, And pour'd red carnage o'er the slumbering shade.

His fearful plan, terrific, strange, and new, Nor Fancy prompted, nor Experience drew, It sprang inventive from a daring mind Where dauntless nerve and intellect combined; Thence bursting wildly, like the lightning's flame, Gave birth to deeds that language fails to name.

With battle-clouds the shrinking sun he veil'd, With flashing fires astonish'd Night a.s.sail'd, By ravag'd fields, and streams with carnage red, Trac'd o'er the earth his desolating tread:

Without a signal to the conflict rush'd O'er friends enslav'd, foes wounded, allies crush'd; High from the Alps, amid eternal snow, Pour'd his fierce legions on the vale below, With tramp of hurrying steed and armour's clang War followed war; from conquest, conquest sprang.

In Scythian caves he fought; on Afric's sands, Chas'd the wild Arab and his roving bands; Perch'd on the pyramids in dizzy height.

Look'd scornful down on Alexander's might; O'er Europe's realm like Attila he rush'd, s.n.a.t.c.h'd, rent, divided, subjugated, crush'd; _Here_, planted minions in his smile to reign, _There_, loaded monarchs with his va.s.sal chain.

Rome's haughty pontiff trembled at the nod That dar'd to threat the altar of his G.o.d; While Albion's ships, whose bristled lightnings glow, Were seen like Argus watching for their foe, And her white cliffs in close array were lin'd With sleepless soldiers, on their arms reclin'd.

Far distant realms beheld his glories tower, And France forgot her wrongs, to boast his power; The pale-brow'd conscript left, without a sigh, Home, love, and liberty, for him to die.

Even heaven-taught Genius proffer'd venal lays, The servile arts enlisted in his praise, And the rich spoils of old Italia's sh.o.r.e As trophies proud, his pirate legions bore.

In that gay city where his lofty throne On run rear'd, in sudden brilliance shone, The Old World met the New, and sons of fame Who fill'd with awe, in long procession came, Rais'd the imploring eye, to ask sublime A milder sentence on the tyrant's crime.

But how can Europe grant their warm appeal, Reft of her sons, and mangled by his steel?

Hath she a couch so dark, a cell so deep, That burning Moscow's memory there may sleep?

What can the scenes of purple Jaffa blot?

And when shall Lodi's slaughter be forgot?

Who from a race unborn shall hide the view Of Jena, Austerlitz, and Waterloo?

Earth, clad in sable, never can forego The deep-grav'd trace, nor man forget the woe.

Yet, _let him live_, if life can yet be borne, Disrob'd of glory, and depress'd with scorn; Yes, _let him live_, if he to life can bend, Without a flatterer, and without a friend; If from the hand he hated, he can bear To take the gift, his stain'd existence spare.

But who from yon lone islet shall exclude The fearful step of Conscience, foul with blood?

What diamond shield repel the impetuous force Or break the shafts of pitiless remorse?

Oh! in his sea-girt cell of guilt and fear, Stretch the red map that marks his dire career, Light the funereal torch, in terror spread His reeking hecatombs of slaughter'd dead, And if to hearts like his, Contrition comes, There let him seek her 'mid impending glooms; _There_ let him live, and to mankind display The mighty miseries of Ambition's sway; There let him sink, to teach them by his fate, The dread requital of the falsely great.

Great, in the stores of an ambitious mind; Great, in the deeds that desolate mankind; Great, like the pestilence in mystic shroud That darts its arrow from the midnight cloud; Great, like the whirlwind in its wrecking path, To sow in evil, and to reap in wrath.

Polycarp.

There have been in all ages some firm and consistent Christians, who, rather than deny the true faith, have chosen martyrdom. Polycarp, the Bishop of Smyrna, in Asia, was one of the earliest of these. He had become very old and venerable, when, during one of the persecutions under the Roman Emperors, his life was taken away. No accusation was ever made against him, except that he was a follower of Christ.

Suddenly there was a great noise in the streets, and mult.i.tudes shouted, "Let Polycarp be brought!" Not dismayed at the tumult, he retired to pray, as was his custom at that hour. Then his enemies rushed forcibly into his house, and foreseeing their purpose, he said,

"The will of the Lord be done."

Calmly he talked with them, and as some seemed weary and exhausted, he commanded food to be set before them, remembering the words of the forgiving and compa.s.sionate Redeemer, "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink."

He requested that he might have one hour for his devotions, ere they took him from his home, to which he felt persuaded that he should return no more. This they granted, and when the hour was pa.s.sed, placed him on an a.s.s, to carry him to the city. Two Romans of wealth and power, pa.s.sing by, took him up into their chariot. There they endeavoured to persuade him to sacrifice to the heathen G.o.ds. He replied, "I shall never do what you advise." Then they threw him out of the chariot so roughly, that he was bruised and hurt. But rising, he walked on cheerfully, notwithstanding his great age. When he was brought before the tribunal, the Governor urged him to deny the Saviour. "Reverence thine age," said he. "Repent. Swear by the fortunes of Caesar. Reproach Christ, and I will set thee at liberty."

But Polycarp replied, "Fourscore and six years have I served him, and he hath never done me an injury. How then can I blaspheme my King and Saviour?"

"I have wild beasts," said the furious governor. "I will cast you unto them, unless you change your mind."

"Call for them," answered Polycarp.

"Nay, if you dread not the lions," said the Roman, "I will order you to be consumed by fire, except you repent."

"Threatenest thou me," said the gray-haired Christian, "with the fire that burns for an hour, and then is extinguished? And art thou ignorant of the fire of the future judgment, and of the everlasting punishment reserved for the wicked?"

Then the whole mult.i.tude, both of Jews and Gentiles that inhabited Smyrna, cried out furiously, "This is the father of the Christians, who teaches all Asia not to worship our G.o.ds. Let a lion loose upon him, or let him be cast into the flame."

They hastened to raise a pile of wood and dry branches. He unclothed himself at their command, and endeavoured to stoop down and take off his shoes, which he had long been unable to do, because of his age and infirmity. When all things were ready, they were going to nail him to the stake. But he said, "He who gives me strength to bear this fire, will enable me to stand unmoved without being fastened with nails." Then he thus prayed:

"Oh Father of the beloved and blessed Son, Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained the knowledge of Thee, Oh G.o.d of angels and princ.i.p.alities, of all creation, and of all the just who live in thy sight, I bless Thee that Thou hast counted me worthy of this day, and at this hour, to receive my portion in the number of martyrs, in the cup of Christ, for the resurrection of eternal life, both of soul and body, in the incorruption of the Holy Ghost, among whom may I be received before Thee, as an acceptable sacrifice, which Thou, the faithful and true G.o.d, hast prepared, promised, and fulfilled accordingly. Wherefore, I praise Thee for all these things, I bless Thee, I glorify Thee, by the eternal High Priest, Jesus Christ, thy well-beloved Son, through whom and with whom, in the Holy Spirit, be glory to Thee, both now and for ever."

Scarcely had the h.o.a.ry-headed saint uttered his last earnest _Amen_, ere the impatient officers kindled the pile. Flame and smoke enwrapped the blackening body of the martyr. It was long in consuming, and so they ran it through with a sword. Thus died the faithful and venerable Polycarp in the year 168, at the age of eighty-six.

Christmas Hymn.

"Peace on earth, and good-will to men."

Lift up the grateful heart to Him, The Friend of want and pain, Whose birth the joyous angels sang, On green Judea's plain;

"Good-will and peace!" how sweet the sound Upon the midnight air, While sleep the fleecy flocks around, Watched by their shepherd's care.

So we, within this Christian fold, Lambs of our teacher's love, Who hear that melody divine, Still echoing from above,

Would fain, through all of life, obey The spirit of the strain, That so the bliss by angels sung Might not to us be vain.