thought only of his danger, and would willingly have yielded a portion of his extended fame, to ensure his perpetual safety.

Marcius had been solely educated by his widowed mother, a woman of high spirit and exalted mind, who considered valour to be the first of virtues, martial fame the greatest bliss, and a warrior's death the highest glory, In her earnest desire to render her son the bulwark of his country, she had neglected to curb his overweening pride; and though she had taught him to aim at conquering every competitor by the prowess of his arm, she had not impressed upon him the necessity of conquering his own errors by the efforts of his judgment. He too soon experienced the evil effects of such blameable selfindulgence; for while his courage, firmness of mind, and liberality of disposition, ensured him esteem and admiration, his pride, violence, and obstinacy, rendered him intractable to the advice of more prudent friends, and provoked enmity against him, amongst the equally headstrong and equally unruly Roman people. At a very early age he had obtained the honour of the civic crown, and twice since that, his brows had been entwined with the oaken garland. He was now engaged against the Volscians whose general, Tullus Aufidius, a man of the most invincible courage, he had overpowered several times in single fight., He had now fought against the most desperate odds, had daringly pur

d the Volsces into the very gates of the city Corioli, and fought with such incredible valour, that ae conquered rather by the wonder he inspired in the contemplation of such extraordinary conduct, than even by his prowess: for one, opposed to a whole city, must have been aided apparently in the eyes of a superstitious people, by a sort of supernatural power, to chill the valour of his numerous. foes.

His general, Titus Lartius described him as

a soldier

Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible,
Only in strokes; but with his grim looks, and
The thunder like percussion of his sounds,
He made his enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.***

Titus Lartius, and Cominus, the Roman generals, were the most enthusiatic admirers of his courage, and being free from the passion of envy, willingly gave him the whole praise of the victory. They offered to his acceptance a tenth of the spoils, before they were distributed, which he refused, saying, he would take his common share with his companions in the fight; and he entreated his generals and soldiers, to withhold their praises, as he had done no more than many else had done, so that their rapturous encomiums displeased him.

Co

minus, however, insisted that he should accept his own noble steed, with its superb trappings, and in future should bear in addition to his name of Caius Marcius-that of Coriolanus, as the undisputed conqueror of the city of Corioli. This honour he accepted; and preparations were made for the return of the army to Rome.

The news of the late victory had flown before them, and the city was in universal clamour to receive the preserver of their country. "He was ushered in with the sound of drums and trumpets; and the heralds preceding him, recounted his deeds, proclaiming that all alone he had fought within the gates of Corioli; and that in honour due, he had received the title of Coriolanus; whilst the air resounded with shouts and acclamations. Among the raptured spectators his mother stood, and viewed him with such pride of soul as if Mars himself had descended from Olympus, and she were mother of the god. He would have knelt; but she clasped him to her heart, and would not permit his filial

homage. Menenius, also his aged friend, who loved him with a father's fondness, was in an ecstasy of joy-and bid an hundred thousand welcomes; whilst his gentle wife stood trembling and weeping with delight, but was unable to speak. He caught her ♦n his arms and imprinted kisses on her forehead

My gracious silence, hail! (he cried).

Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
That weepest to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,

And mothers that lack sons.***

They now proceeded to the capitol, where Volumnia hoped her son would receive that high reward, at which her ambition aimed. The consulship was an honour he had truly merited; but there were ceremonies to be passed through, at which his nature revolted and he would rather forego the envied distinction, than submit to the apparent degrada- . tions which must precede its attainment.

The lofty character of Coriolanus-the honours and distinctions poured upon him-the fame which followed his success, all subjected him to envy and malice. Envy ever chooses a high mark; as curs bay the moon, the spleen of malignity shows itself most against those of greatest deserving !

Envy, thou art indeed a fiend malignant,
Of power extensive o'er the heart of man
Sad desolation marks thy hateful track,
As o'er the earth thou stalkest with pigmy stride;
For, though thy baleful step is slow, and like
The grovelling spirit which inspires thy deeds,
Yet is thy progress giant-like and sure!

Who once has with thee grappled, ne'er can loose
Him from his desperate hold,-Hyena like
Thou feedest on the living and the dead,
Tainting with thy infectious breath the food
Thou gluttonest on, making it all impure

And loathsome as thyself, such is at least thy wish-
Woe to the wretch who falls beneath thy power,

Yet more woe still to those, who list beneath
Thy sable banners.-Spirit of wrath malign!-
What are the taints which mark thy votaries?
The sunken eye-and heavy darkling brow,

-As balmy sleep were ne'er an inmate there-
The hollow cheek pale and cadaverous,

-As blooming health had never spread its rose,
The scornful upturned lip-and gloomy smile

-As 't were a sepulchre should dimly yawn-
The folded arm, and loose unsteady step

-As strength or power had never strung the nerves-
These outwardly;-But all within is dark
As pitchy night, when no star rides the clouds,
When pale-faced Luna hides her lustre bright,
And the dense atmosphere Chaos resembles,
Such as she was-ere sovereign power, this fair
And smiling world for mortal residence framed,
The heart of envy !-who can paint its hue!
That heart where virtue has no resting place;
Where joy, or peace,-or hope-can never come;
Where scorpion stings engender-where the blood,
Thick curdling, gushes through the veins impetuous,
Tainting the flowing tide of gentle health,
And like a fearful storm, ruffling the waves
On the vast sea of life.

This fiend of darkness, hovering around the steps of Coriolanus, may be figuratively said to have resolved to mar his projects, and intercept the progress of his well merited rewards. It was the custom of Rome that those, who were to be candidates for the consulship, should stand in the market place, clad in mean garments, thrown loosely round their bodies, so as to enable them more easily to display their wounds or scars, to the citizens as they passed along; which marks of honour, entitled them to the suffrages of the people, without a majority of whose voices the candidate could not be chosen. This ceremony was loathsome to Coriolanus, for many reasons; first, that he detested those vain boasters, who made a parade of their deeds, and sought reward simply for the performance of their duties; next, his pride disdained to sue for that which he had well earned; but most of all—

because he despised the common people, not on account of their poverty, but considering them arrogant, insolent, and timeserving. His great soul revolted at the thoughts of petitioning the very beings whom he had so often spurned from him, and who he well knew in their hearts did not love him. Rome of late had suffered much: an unfruitful harvest had overspread the land with famine, and war had so impoverished the lower orders of the people, that they had scarcely the means of purchase, even had grain been brought to market. Many dissentions also of late had arisen between the patricians and the citizens; and Marcius having invariably taken part with the nobles against the Plebeians, he had therefore rendered himself obnoxious to them, whilst his haughty and unbending spirit had moreover induced him to treat them with a degree of contempt, at which they revolted. Hence they feared, yet hated him; and though compelled to admire, they could not esteem him. Marcius argued and felt like a soldier; but did not reason or think like a philosopher. He did not

consider the difference in human nature. He did not reflect, that as ignorance is incapable of judging with accuracy, so its weakness ought to be considered, and rather be conciliated with mildnessthan be driven to obstinacy by sternness. But Marcius was no philosopher. Born with power, he thought he had a right to command-Gifted with genius, he considered obedience the tribute due to his superiority-Hence the services he had rendered to his country raising him still even beyond his high rank and station, his mind was unbending, and his pride intolerable.

Depending therefore alone upon the love of the people, he might have had some cause of apprehension; but as vulgar minds are ever unstable, or rather may we not say- -as the lowly minded are