The man took them, and made off as fast as he could, without saying any thing more. "Follow that man, said the counsellor to his servant, 66 without his observing you; see where he stops, and return and let me know." The servant did as he was ordered, followed the robber through three or four narrow streets, and saw him go into a baker's shop, where he bought a large loaf of bread, and changed one of his louisd'or. He then went into an alley, at the distance of a few paces, ran up a pair of stairs that led to a garret, and, on entering it, (where there was no light but that of the moon,) he threw his loaf into the middle of the room, and exclaimed, with sobs, to his wife and children, "Eat, eat! this loaf has cost very dear; satisfy your hunger, and do not torment me, as you have done, to procure you another. I shall be hanged, one of these days, and you will be the cause of it." The wife, who was in tears, appeased him as well as she could; picked up the loaf, and divided it amongst her four children, who were nearly starved to death. The servant, who had taken exact notice of all that passed, returned to his master, who went the next morning, according to his directions, to visit the poor man's habitation. In his way up stairs, he inquired of the lodgers, what character he bore; and was told, that he was a shoemaker, an honest and a worthy man, ever ready to assist his neighbors, but burdened with a large family, and so poor that they wondered how he was able to live. The counsellor knocked at his door, and was immediately let in by the poor man in rags, who, instantly recollecting him as the person that he had robbed the preceding day, fell down at his feet, requesting him not to ruin him. "Do not make yourself uneasy, my good friend," said the counsellor, "I am not come to do you any harm, I promise you. You follow a very wretched profession, I assure you; and one that will, in a short time, bring you to the gallows, if you do not leave it off. Take these ten guineas; they will buy you some leather; so work as hard as you can, and support your children by your honest industry.' LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND TENTH. Reason like the Evening Star. The evening star of reason 's thine; And be to them a ruling star! LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVENTH. Anecdotes of honorable Conduct. The Spanish historians relate a memorable instance of honor and regard to truth. A Spanish cavalier, in a sudden quarrel, slew a Moorish gentleman, and fled. His pursuers soon lost sight of him, for he had, unperceived, thrown himself over a garden wall. The owner, a Moor, happening to be in his garden, was addressed by the Spaniard on his knees, who acquainted him with his case, and implored concealment. "Eat this," said the Moor, giving him half a peach, "You now know that you may confide in my protection." The Moor then locked him up in his garden apartment, telling him, as soon as it was night, he would provide for his escape to a place of greater safety. But he had no sooner gone into his house, and seated himself, than a great crowd, with loud lamentations, came to his gate, bringing the corpse of his son, who had been killed by a Spaniard. When the first shock of surprise was a little over, he learned, from the description given, that the fatal deed was done by the very person then in his power. He mentioned this to no one; but, as soon as it was dark, retired to his garden, as if to grieve alone, giving orders that none should follow him. Then, accosting the Spaniard, he said, "Christian, the person you have killed is my son; his body is now in my house. You ought to suffer; but you have eaten with me, and I have given you my faith, which must not be broken." When he had uttered these words, he led the astonished Spaniard to his stables, and mounted him on one of his fleetest horses, and said, "Fly far while the night can cover you; you will be safe in the morning. You are, indeed, guilty of my son's blood; but God is just and good, and I thank him I am innocent of yours, and that my faith given is preserved. In the year 1746, when the English were at war with Spain, the ship Elizabeth of London, coming through the gulf from Jamaica, richly laden, met with a most violent storm, in which the ship sprung a leak, that obliged them, for the saving of their lives, to run into the Havana, a Spanish port. The captain went on shore, and directly waited on the governor; told the occasion of his putting in, and that he surrendered the ship as a prize, and himself and his men as prisoners of war, only requesting good quarter. "No, sir," replied the Spanish governor, "if we had taken you in fair war, at sea, or approaching our coast with hostile intentions, your ship would have been a prize, and your people prisoners; but when, distressed by a tempest, you come into our ports for the safety of your lives, we, the enemies, being men, are bound, as such, by the laws of humanity, to afford relief to distressed men who ask it of us. We cannot, even against our enemies, take advantage of an act of God. "You have leave, therefore," added the governor, "to unload your ship, if that be necessary to stop the leak; you may refit her here, and traffic so far as may be necessary to pay the charges; you may then depart, and I will give you a pass to be in force till you are beyond Bermuda-if, after that, you are taken, you will then be a lawful prize; but now, you are only a stranger, and have a stranger's right to safety and protection." The ship accordingly departed, and arrived safe in London. A remarkable instance of the like honorable conduct, is recorded of a poor, unenlightened African negro. In the year 1752, a New England sloop, trading to the coast of Guinea, left the second mate, William Murray, sick on shore, and sailed without him. Murray was at the house of a black named Cudjoe, with whom he had contracted an acquaintance during their trade. He recovered; and, the sloop being gone, he continued with his black friend till some other opportunity should offer for his getting home. In the meantime, a Dutch ship came into the road, and some of the blacks coming on board her, were treacherously seized, and carried off as slaves. The relations and friends, transported with sudden rage, ran to the house of Cudjoe, to take revenge, by killing Murray. Cudjoe stopped them at the door, and de manded what they wanted. they, "have carried away our brothers and sons, and we will kill all white men. Give us the white man you have in your house, for we will kill him.' Nay," said Cudjoe, "the white men that carried off your relations, are bad men; kill them, when you can take them; but this white man is a good man, and you must not kill him."—" But he is a white man,' they cried; "and the white men are all bad men, we will kill them all." 66 Nay," says he, "you must not kill a man, that has done no harm, only for being white. This man is my friend, my house is his post, I am his soldier, and must fight for him; you must kill me, before you can kill him. What good man will ever come again under my roof, if I let my floor be stained with a good man's blood?" wwwwwww LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND TWELFTH. The Path of Life. Oh! I have thought, and thinking sighed- |