His mind was in unison with the season. He rode slowly
round from bank to bank, sometimes speaking to the workers in the
fosse, sometimes lingering for a few minutes. Looking on the ground,
he thought on the element of which he was composed, to which he might
so soon return; then gazing upward, he observed the silent march of
the stars and the moving scene of the heavens. On whatever object he
cast his eyes, his soul, which the recent events had dissolved into a
temper not the less delightful for being tinged with melancholy,
meditated with intense compassion, and dwelt with wonder on the mind
of man, which, whilst it adores the Creator of the universe, and
measures the immensity of space with an expansion of intellect almost
divine, can devote itself to the narrow limits of sublunary
possessions, and exchange the boundless paradise above for the low
enjoyments of human pride. He looked with pity over that wide tract
of land which now lay betwixt him and the remains of those four
thousand invaders who had just fallen victims to the insatiate
desires of ambition. He well knew the difference between a defender
of his own country and the invader of another's. His heart beat, his
soul expanded, at the prospect of securing liberty and life to a
virtuous people. He _felt_ all the happiness of such an achievement,
while he could only _imagine_ how that spirit must shrink from
reflection which animates the self-condemned slave to fight, not
merely to fasten chains on others, but to rivet his own the closer.
Pages:
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88