the Latins, who vainly implored assistance from Rome. The towns of Tolerium, Lavici, Pes, and Bola, were all taken by storm; their goods plundered, and the inhabitants made prisoners of war: such as yielded were treated mildly such as resisted were put to the sword, Fortune favoured him in every expedition; and he was now so famous for his victories, that the Volsci left their towns defenceless to follow him into the field; being assured, under his conduct, of success. The very soldiers of his colleague's army came over to him, and would acknowledge no other general. Thus finding himself unopposed in the field, and at the head of a numerous army, he at length pitched his camp almost under the very walls of Rome.

The city which had lately been so turbulent and haughty, exhibited nothing but timidity and despair. The people, who from the walls beheld the enemy ravaging their fields, begged peace with tears and supplications. They began to entreat the senate to recal the edict which had banished Coriolanus, and acknowledged the injustice of their former proceedings. The senate despised such meanness, resolving, if possible, not to betray the injustice of the state to foreign enemies, or to grant those favours to an actual traitor, which they had denied him when only accused of treasonable designs. Yet what could their resolutions avail, when they had not power to support them? Coriolanus approached nearer every day, and at last invested the city, fully resolved to besiege it. It was then that the fierce spirit of the patricians was entirely subdued: both the senate and the people unanimously agreed to send deputies to him with proposals of restoration, in case he should draw off his army. Coriolanus received them with haughtiness, obliged them to pass through a line of armed men, and to submit to whatever was most mortifying to Romans. He informed them

with the utmost severity, that he was now general of the Volscians, and had only their interest to consider: that, if they hoped for peace, they must restore all the towns which originally belonged to that people, and make them free of the city, as the Latins were: "And as for myself, (said he,) do you imagine that a mere recal will be a sufficient atonement for the insults I have received, while it still remains in the power of such wretches as Sicinius and Decius to arm a vile populace against me? No! Rome, like a cruel step-mother, has heaped injuries and indignities upon a son who had no other ambition but to sacrifice himself for her glory. She will now learn by the sequel, whether the gods espouse her cause or mine-Depart. I allow you thirty days, at the expiration of which period, you shall see me once more before these walls, to receive your de

termination." The intermediate space he employed in taking several more towns from the Latins; and, according to his promise, returned, and again encamped his army before the walls of Rome.

Another embassy was now sent forth, conjuring him not to exact from his native city aught but what became Romans to grant. Coriolanus, however, naturally inflexible and severe, and irritated into revenge, still persisted in his former demands, and granted them but three days' longer grace, in which to finish their deliberations A message so peremptory filled the whole city with consternation. Every one ran to take arms; some posted themselves upon the ramparts; others watched the gates, lest they should be secretly delivered up by the partisans which Coriolanus had within; others fortified their houses, as if the enemy were already masters of the walls. In this general confusion, there was neither discipline nor command. The consuls, whose fears were their only advisers, had been elected for very different merits than those of skill in war. The tribunes, lately so fierce, were now struck dumb; all shared the universal terror; and it seemed as if the boasted courage of Rome had migrated, with their general, into the camp of the Volscians. In this exigence, all that was left was another deputation, still more solemn than either of the former, composed of the pontiffs, the priests, and the augurs. These, clothed in their habits of ceremony, and with a grave and mournful deportment, issued from the city, and entered the camp of the conqueror; they besought him by all that was sacred, by the respect he owed the gods, and that which he might have for those who, being servants of the gods, were now at his feet, to give peace to his country. These appeals were made wholly in vain. Coriolanus testified that respect for the deputation which the sanctity of their characters demanded; but sent them away without in the least relaxing in his demands.

When the people saw them return without making the least impression on his heart, they began to give up the commonwealth as lost. Their temples were filled with old men, with women and children, who, prostrate at their altars, put up their ardent prayers for the preservation of their country. Nothing was to be heard but anguish and lamentation; nothing to be seen but scenes of affright and distress. At length, it was suggested to them, that what could not be effected by the intercession of the senate, or the abjuration of the priests, might be brought about by the tears of his wife, or the importunities of his mother. This idea seemed to be relished by all, and even the senate gave the proposed deputation the sanction of their au

thority. Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus, at first made some hesitation to undertake so pious a work, knowing the inflexible temper of her son, and fearful of finding him deaf to her maternal entreaties: however, she at last undertook the embassy, and set forward from the city, accompanied by many of the principal matrons of Rome, with Volumnia his wife, and his two children. Coriolanus, who at a distance discovered this mournful group of female suppliants, was resolved to give them a denial, and called his officers round him, to be witnesses of his resolution: but, being informed that his mother and his wife were among the number, he instantly came down from his tribunal, to meet and embrace them. At first the women's tears and embraces took away the power of words, and the rough soldier could not refrain from giving way to the feelings of nature likewise, and sharing in the general distress.

"Tell me, Coriolanus," cried his mother," how am I to consider this meeting? Do I embrace my son, or my enemy? Am I your mother, or your captive? How have I lived to see this day-to see my son a banished man, and, still more distressing, to see him the enemy of his country? How has he been able to turn his arms against the place which gave him life? how direct his rage against those walls which protect his wife, his children, and his gods? But it is to me only, that my country owes her oppressor; had I never been a mother, Rome had still been free; the wretched consciousness of this will afflict me as long as life shall last, and that cannot last long. But, though I am prepared for death, yet, at least, let these wretched sufferers claim some share of your compassion; and think what will be their fate, when to banishment they must add captivity."

Coriolanus, during this speech, seemed much agitated by contending passions: his mother, who saw him moved, seconded her words by the most persuasive eloquence of tears: his wife and children hung round him, entreating for protection and pity; while the train of matrons lifted up their lamentations, and deplored their own and their country's distress, prostrate on the ground, in all the agony of woe. Coriolanus, for a moment, was silent, feeling the strong conflict between honour and inclination; at length, starting as from a dream, his breast struggling with a thousand various emotions, he flew to raise his mother, who had fallen at his feet, and exclaimed, "O my mother, thou hast saved Rome, but lost thy son!" He accordingly gave orders to draw off the army, and thus saved the city from destruction. His words, however, were prophetic; the lenity he had shown to his country was not to be forgiven. Tullus, who had long envied his glory, was not

remiss in aggravating the treachery of his conduct to his countrymen. Upon their return, Coriolanus was slain, in an insurrection of the people, by some hired assassins, and afterwards honourably buried, with late and ineffectual repentance. The Roman ladies wore mourning for him a year; and though he died in disgrace, his country always ranked him among her heroes. He was equally brave and prudent, disinterested and virtuous; but trusting to force rather than persuasion, he neglected those arts that conciliate popular affection. No Roman general ever preceded or followed him, who was better qualified to extend the limits of the republic, had his lot been cast in more propitious times; but the violence of his resentment against his native country, though it may be palliated, cannot be excused.

ANECDOTE OF JUNIUS BRUTUS.

Brutus, and Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, were the first who were raised to the dignity of consuls in Rome. They immediately revived the laws for assembling the people, which had been discontinued during the late tyrant's reign; but, that their newly acquired liberty should be prevented from degenerating into licentiousness, several officers relative to the priesthood were appointed, and new sacrifices ordained, in order to strengthen the civil power by the firmest sanctions of religion. This new republic, however, which seemed so grateful to the people, had nearly been destroyed in its very commencement. A party was formed in Rome in favour of Tarquin. Some young men of the principal families in the state, who had been educated about the king, and had participated in all the luxuries and pleasures of the court, undertook to reestablish monarchy. They were naturally disgusted with the gloomy austerity of a republican form of government, in which the laws, inflexible and severe, make no distinctions of birth or fortune. Their party secretly increased every day, and, what may create our surprise, were it not known that political animosity absorbs every feeling of nature, even the sons of Brutus, and the Aquilii, the nephews of Collatinus, were among the number. Tarquin, who was informed of these intrigues in his favour, resolved to advance them by every art in his power, and accordingly sent ambassadors from Etruria to Rome, under a pretence of reclaiming the erown, and demanding the effects which he had left behind him; but in reality, with a design to give spirit to his faction, and to draw over to it as many as he possibly could. They accordingly went on with spirit and success, holding their private meetings at the house of one of the conspirators; and already the restoration

tus.

of the king and the death of the consuls was resolved upon, when the whole fabric of their hopes was at once levelled in the dust. A slave, named Vindicius, who had accidentally hid himself in the room where the conspirators used to assemble, overhearing the conversation, laid open their designs to the consuls, who gave orders to have the conspirators secured and brought to justice, and among these were found the sons of BruFew situations could have been more terribly affecting than this, of a father placed as a judge upon the life and death of his own children; impelled by justice to condemn, and by nature to spare them. The young men, when accused, did not attempt to say a word in their defence; but, with conscious guilt, awaited their sentence in silent agony. The other judges who were present, felt all the pangs of nature; Collatinus wept and Valerius could not repress his sentiments of pity. Brutus alone seemed to have lost all the softness of humanity, and all the yearnings of parental affection. With a stern counte

nance, and a tone of voice that marked his fixed resolution, he demanded of his two sons if they could make any defence to the crimes with which they had been charged. This demand he made three several times; but receiving no answer, he at length turned himself to the lictors, "Now, (exclaimed he,) it is your part to perform the rest." Thus saying, he again resumed his seat with an air of determined majesty; nor could all the sentiments of paternal pity, the imploring looks of the people, nor the dreadful situation of the young men who were preparing for execution, alter his stern decision. The executioner having stripped, and then whipped the conspirators with rods, presently after beheaded them; Brutus all the time beholding the cruel spectacle with a steady look and unaltered countenance, while the multitude gazed on with all the mingled sensations of pity, wonder, and horror.

ANECDOTE OF PORSENNA.

Porsenna was determined upon taking the city; and though five hundred of his men were slain in a sally of the Romans, he reduced it to the greatest straits, and turning the siege into a blockade, resolved to reduce it by famine. He, however, held out the palm of peace on condition that the Romans received their old master; but all with one voice exclaimed, "Rather let us perish by famine, than again submit to slavery and oppression." Notwithstanding their fortitude, the distresses of the besieged soon began to be insufferable, and all things seemed to menace a speedy destruction, when another act of bravery, even superior to that which had saved the city before, finally accomplished its safety and freedom.