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3. So very like a painter drew,
That ev'ry eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just that life itself was there;
No flatt'ry with his colors laid,
To bloom restor'd the faded maid;
He
gave each muscle all its strength;
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length,
His honest pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
4. He lost his friends; his practice fail'd,
Truth should not always be reveal'd;
In dusty piles his pictures lay,
For no one sent the second pay.

5. Two busto's, fraught with ev'ry grace,
A Venus** and Apollo'st face,

He plac'd in view-resolv'd to please,
Whoever sat, he drew from these;
From these corrected every feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.

6. All things were set; the hour was come,
His palettet ready o'er his thumb:
My Lord appear'd, and seated right,

In

proper attitude and light,

The painter look'd, he sketch'd the piece;
Then dipt his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
Of Titian's tints, of Guido's|| air,
"Those eyes, my Lord, the spirit there,
Might well a Raphael's|| hand require,
To give them all the native fire;
The features, fraught with sense and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit :
But yet, with patience, you shall view
As much as paint or art can do:

7. Observe the work."-My Lord reply'd,
"Till now, I thought my mouth was wide:
Besides, my nose is somewhat long;

Dear sir, for me 'tis far too young.'

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*Venus, one of the most celebrated of the heathen deities. She was the goddess of beauty. Copies of her statue are used as models by painters. + Apollo, another of the ancient heathen deities. The Apollo-Belvidere is an ancient statue of the first class in excellence.

Palette, a little oval table, or board, on which the painter places his colors to be used, and mixes them to obtain the requisite tints.

An Italian painter.

"O pardon me," the artist cry'd,
"In this, we painters must decide.
The piece e'en common eyes must strike;
I'll warrant it extremely like.”
My Lord examin'd it anew,

No looking-glass seem'd half so true.
8. A lady came. With borrow'd grace,
He from his Venus form'd her face,
Her lover prais'd the painter's art,
So like the picture in his heart!
To ev'ry age some charm he lent;
E'en beauties were almost content.

9. Through all the town his art they prais'd,
His custom grew, his price was rais'd.
Had he the real likeness shown,

Would any man the picture own?
But when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.

LESSON LX.

Story of the Siege of Calais.

1. EDWARD the III. after the battle of Cressy,* laid siege to Calais. He had fortified his camp in so impregnable a manner, that all the efforts of France proved ineffectual to raise the siege, or throw succors into the city. The citizens under count Vienne, their gallant governor, made an admirable defence.

2. France had now put the sickle into her second harvest, since Edward, with his victorious army, sat down before the town. The eyes of all Europe were intent on the issue. At length, famine did more for Edward than arms.

3. After suffering unheard of calamities, they resolved to attempt the enemy's camp. They boldly sallied forth; the English joined battle; and after a long and desperate engagement, count Vienne was taken prisoner, and the citizens, who survived the slaughter, retired within their gates.

4. The command devolving upon Eustace St. Pierre, a man of mean birth, but of exalted virtue, he offered to capitulate with Cressy, a town of France, situated on the river Maye, 100 miles north of Paris. It is celebrated for the great victory gained on the 26th of August, A. D. 1346, by Edward III. of England, over Philip VI. of France.

*

+ Cal-ais, a town of France, situated on the Straits of Dover, taken by Edward III. in 1347.

Edward, provided he permitted him to depart with life and liberty. Edward, to avoid the imputation of cruelty, consented to spare the bulk of the Plebeians,* provided they delivered up to him six of their principal citizens, with halters about their necks, as victims of due atonement for that spirit of rebellion with which they had inflamed the vulgar.

5. When the messenger, Sir Walter Mauny, delivered the terms, consternation and pale dismay were impressed on every countenance. To a long and dead silence, deep sighs and groans succeeded, till Eustace St. Pierre, getting up to a little eminence, thus addressed the assembly:

6. "My friends, we are brought to great straits this day; we must either yield to the terms of our cruel and ensnaring conqueror, or give up our tender infants, our wives and daughters, to the bloody and brutal lusts of the violating soldiers.

7. "Is there any expedient left whereby we may avoid the guilt and infamy of delivering up those who have suffered every misery with you, on the one hand; or the desolation and horror of a sacked city, on the other? There is, my friends; there is one expedient left; a gracious, an excellent, a godlike expedient! Is there any here to whom virtue is dearer than life? Let him offer himself an oblation for the safety of his people! He shall not fail of a blessed approbation from that power, who offered his only Son for the salvation of mankind."

up

my

8. He spoke but an universal silence ensued. Each man looked around for the example of that virtue and magnanimity, which all wished to approve in themselves, though they wanted the resolution. At length St. Pierre resumed, "I doubt not but there are many as ready, nay, more zealous of this martyrdom, than I can be; though the station to which I am raised, by the captivity of Lord Vienne, imparts a right to be the first in giving life for your sakes. I give it freely; I give it cheerfully. 9. "Who comes next ;""Your son," exclaimed a youth, not yet come to maturity. "Ah, my child!" cried St. Pierre, "I am then twice sacrificed. But, no; I have rather begotten thee a second time. Thy years are few, but full, my son. The victim of virtue has reached the utmost purpose and goal of mortality. Who next, my friends? This is the hour of heroes!" "Your kinsman," cried John de Aire. "Your kinsman,” cried James Wissant. "Your kinsman," cried Peter Wissant.

10. "Ah!" exclaimed Sir Walter Mauny, bursting into tears, "Why was I not a citizen of Calais ?” The sixth victim was

Plebeian, one of the common people, or lower ranks of men.

still wanting, but was quickly supplied by lot, from numbers who were now emulous of so ennobling an example. The keys of the city were then delivered to Sir Walter. He took the six prisoners into his custody; then ordered the gates to be opened, and gave charge to his attendants to conduct the remaining citizens with their families, through the camp of the English.

11. Before they departed, however, they desired permission to take their adieu of their deliverers. What a parting! What a scene! They crowded, with their wives, and children, about St. Pierre and his fellow prisoners. They embraced; they clung around; they fell prostrate before them.

12. They groaned; they wept aloud; and the joint clamor of their mourning passed the gates of the city, and was heard throughout the English camp. The English by this time were apprised of what passed within Calais.

13. They heard the voice of lamentation, and they were touched with compassion. Each of the soldiers prepared a portion of his own victuals to welcome and entertain the halffamished inhabitants; and they loaded them with as much as their present weakness was able to bear, in order to supply them with sustenance by the way.

14. At length St. Pierre and his fellow victims appeared, under the conduct of Sir Walter and a guard. All the tents of the English were instantly emptied. The soldiers poured from all parts, and arranged themselves on each side, to behold, to contemplate, to admire, this little band of patriots, as they passed.

15. They bowed down to them on all sides. They murmured their applause of that virtue, which they could not but revere, even in enemies; and they regarded those ropes which they voluntarily assumed about their necks, as ensigns of greater dignity than that of the British garter.*

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16. As soon as they had reached the presence, "Mauny," says the Monarch, are these the principal inhabitants of Calais ?" "They are," says Mauny; "they are not only the principal men of Calais, but they are the principal men of France, my lord, if virtue has any share in the act of ennobling." Were they delivered peaceably?" says Edward. "Was there no resistance, no commotion among the people?" "Not in the .east, my lord! the people would all have perished, rather than have delivered the feast of these to your Majesty. They

Garter, the badge of an order of knighthood in Great Britain, instituted Edward III.

are self-delivered, self-devoted, and come to offer up their inestimable heads, as an ample equivalent for the ransom of thousands."

17. Edward was secretly piqued* at this reply of Sir Walter; but he knew the privilege of a British subject, and suppressed nis resentment." Experience," says he, "has ever shown, that lenity only serves to invite people to new crimes. Severity, at times, is indispensably necessary, to compel subjects to submission, by punishment and example." "Go," he cried to an officer, "lead these men to execution."

18. At this instant a sound of triumph was heard throughout the camp. The queen had just arrived with a powerful reinforcement of gallant troops. Sir Walter Mauny flew to receive her Majesty, and briefly informed her of the particulars respecting the six victims.

19. As soon as she had been welcomed by Edward and his court, she desired a private audience. "My lord," said she, "the question I am to enter upon, is not touching the lives of a few mechanics-it respects the honor of the English nation; it respects the glory of my Edward, my husband, and my king.

20. "You think you have sentenced six of your enemies to death. No, my lord, they have sentenced themselves; and their execution would be the execution of their own orders, not the orders of Edward. The stage on which they would suffer, would be to them a stage of honor, but a stage of shame to Edward; a reproach on his conquests; an indelible disgrace to his name.

21. "Let us rather disappoint these haughty burghers, who wish to invest themselves with glory at our expense. We cannot wholly deprive them of the merit of a sacrifice so nobly intended, but we may cut them short of their desires; in place of that death by which their glory would be consummate, let us bury them under gifts; let us put them to confusion with applauses.

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22. "We shall thereby defeat them of that popular opinion, which never fails to attend those who suffer in the cause of virtue." "I am convinced; you have prevailed. Be it so,' replied Edward; "prevent the execution; have them instantly before us."

23. They came; when the Queen, with an aspect and accent diffusing sweetness, thus bespoke them: "Natives of France, and inhabitants of Calais, you have put us to a vast expense of

* Pronounced peek'd, offended.

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