son, explained to him his own future situation, his means of supporting his dignities; and exacted from him a promise, not to disturb, by any act of unwise generosity, the provision he had made for Arthur.
"Leave my brave boy to conquer fortune. If his country helps him, well (I am sure he will help her when occasion serves); if not, let him work on—his character is essentially that which will be happiest in the struggle for independence; money might enervate—perhaps corrupt him. No, no, my glorious sailor son shall help himself, happy in that his kind and watchful brother will be a father to his family—if—if—he must fall."
The images awakened were too affecting, and the dying father ceased to speak; conscious he had left nothing undone for his earthly connexions, he sought to fix his mind steadily on those objects most worthy of it, nor would his son disturb him by a question or an allusion to any earthly thing. Agonizing as were his sorrows, forlorn and destitute as he must soon be come, he struggled to suppress the suffocating sob that might reach the ear and wound the heart of his beloved parent; and whilst silent tears poured as a deluge from his eyes, from his hand alone did the sufferer receive the anodyne, which might soothe though it could not save.
We will dwell no longer on this awful episode in our story; we seek not to recall sorrow to the feeling and bereaved bosom; suffice to say, that the young
