Front matter
SE'QUl
TO THE
ENGLISH RE
Introduction
THE " English Reader" has been so favourably received by the public, as to encourage the Compiler to hope, that the present volume will not be deemed
.vorthy of attention. It pursues the same objects as ''"Id former work; it preserves the same chaste attention to the morals of youth; its materials are taken from the most correct and elegant writers : and as the pieces are generally more extended, and contain a greater variety of style and composition, it is presumed that it forms a proper a Sequel to the Reader," and is calculated to improve, both in schools and in private families, the highest class of young readers.
In selecting materials for the poetical part of his work, the Compiler met with few authors, the whole of whose writings were unexceptionable. Some of
IV INTRODUCTION.
them have had unguarded moments, in which they have written what is not proper to come under the notice of youth. He must not therefore be understood as recommending every production of all the poets who have contributed to his selection.* Judicious parents and tutors, who feel the importance of a guarded education, will find it incumbent upon them to select for their children and pupils, such writings, both in prose and poetry, as are proper for their perusal; and young persons will evince their virtue and good sense, by cordially acquiescing in the judgment of those who are deeply interested in their welfare. Perhaps the best reason that can be offered, in favour of poetical selections for the use of young and innocent minds, is, the tendency which they have, when properly made, to preserve the chastity of their sentiments, and the purity of their morals.
In " The Sequel," as well as in " The English Reader," several pieces are introduced, which, in a
* Justice to the authors from whose writings the extracts were made, and regard to the credit of the present work, rendered the insertipn of names indispensable.
INTRODUCTION. V
striking manner, display the beauty and excellence of the Christian religion. Extracts of this kind, if frequently diffused amongst the elements of literature, would doubtless produce happy effects on the minds of youth, and contribute very materially to counteract, both the open and the secret labours of Infidelity* With these views, the Compiler derived particular satisfaction, in selecting those pieces which are calculated to attach the young mind to a religion perfectly adapted to the condition of man ; and which not only furnishes the most rational and sublime enjoyments in this life, but secures complete and permanent felicity hereafter.
A
AD VER TISEMENT.
The second edition of this work has received the Author's particular attention. Many of the pieces in the former edition, are omitted, and others inserted which are of superior importance, or more interesting to young persons. The new edition contains also, in an Appendix, Biographical Sketches of the authors mentioned in the " Introduction to the English Reader" the "English Reader" itself, and the '-' Sequel to the Reader" with occasional strictures on their writings, and references to the particular works by which they have been most distinguished.*
By these Biographical Sketches, it is the Compiler's intention, not only to gratify the young reader's curiosity, respecting the authors of the pieces he has perused ; but also to present to him such facts and sentiments as are peculiarly instructive and interesting, and calculated toynake durable impressions on his mind' The language too of these sketches has been studiously regarded; that no want of accuracy or perspicuity in the composition, might prevent this part of the bpok from forming an additional number of occasional exercises in reading.
* From the difficulty of obtaining accurate and impartial information, and from motives of delicacy, no account is given of living authors.
Chapter I. Narrative Pieces
Pas's a
Sect. 1. Religion the foundation of content. An
allegory, - - - - - 13
2. The vision of Mirza; exhibiting a pic-
ture of human life, - - - 20
3. Endeavours of mankind to get rid of their
burdens ; a dream, - - - 25
4'. The same subject continued, - 28
5. The vision of Almet, - - - 32
6. Religion and superstition contrasted. A
Chapter II. Didactic Pieces
Sect. 1. Vicious connexions the ruin of virtue, 44
2. On cheerfulness, - - - - 49
3. Happy effects of contemplating the works
of nature, - - - - - 53
4. Reflections on the universal presence of
the Deity, - - - - - 56
V11I CONTENTS.
CHAPTER 1,11.
ARGUMENTATIVE PIECE'S.
Page, Sect. 1. Our imperfect knowledge of a future state, suited to the condition of man, 61
2. Youth the proper season for gaining know-
ledge and forming religious habits, 66
3. The truth of Christianity proved, from
the conversion of the Apostle Paul, 71
Chapter IV. Descriptive Pieces
Sect. 1. The heavens and the earth show the glory and the wisdom of their Creator. — The earth happily adapted to the nature of man, - . - - - - 76
2. An eruption of mount Vesuvius, - 79
3. Description of the preparations made by
Xerxes, the Persian monarch, for invading Greece, - - - 82
4. Character of Martin Luther, 87
5. The good and the bad man compared in
the season of adversity, - - 91
Chapter V. Pathetic Pieces
Sect. 1. Rome savtd by female virtue, - 9o
2. Execution of Cranmer, Archbishop of
Canterbury, - 103
3. Christianity furnishes the best consolation
under the evils of life, - - 105
CONTENTS. IX
Page* 4. Benefits to be derived from scenes of distress, ----- 108
Chapter VI. Dialogues
Sect. 1. Theron and Aspasio.— Beauty and utilitycombined in the productions of nature, 115
2. Cadmus and Hercules. — Importance of
literature, - - - 118
vius Tuliius. — An absolute and a limited monarchy compared, - 124*
4. Theron and Aspasio. — On the excellence
of the Holy Scriptures, - ^129
Chapter VII. Public Speeches
Sect. 1. The defence of Socrates before his
Judges, 138
2. The Scythian ambassadors to Alexander,
on his making preparations to attack their country, - - - - 143
3. Speech of the Earl of Chatham, on the
subject of employing Indians to fight against the Americans, - - 146
Chapter VIII. Promiscuous Pieces
Sect. 1. The Voyage of Life ; an allegory, - 150 2. The vanity of those pursuits which have human approbation for their chief object, ----- 155
CONTENTS.
Page,
3. The folly and misery of idleness - 160
4. The choice of our situation in life, a point
of great importance, - - -167
5. No life pleasing to God that is not use-
ful to man. An eastern narrative, 172
6. Character of the Great Founder of Chris-
7. The spirit and laws of Christianity supe-
rior to those of every other religion, 180
8. The vision of Carazan : Or, social love
and beneficence recommended, 185
9. Creation the product of divine good-
10. The benefits of religious retirement, 192
1 1 . History of ten days of Seged, emperor of
12. History of Seged continued, 205
13. The vision of Theodore, the hermit of
Teneriffe, found in his cell, - 210
14. The vision of Theodore continued, 217
15. The vision of Theodore continued, 222
CONTENTS. XI
Chapter I. Narrative Pieces
Page.
Sect. 1. The chameleon ; or pertinacity exposed, 227
2. The hare and many friends, - - 229
3. The three warnings, - - - 231
CHAPTER IT.
DIDACTIC PIECES.
Sect. 1. The love of the world detected, - 243
2. On Friendship, - 244
3. Improvement of time recommended, 251
CHAPTER lit.
DESCRIPTIVE PIECES,
2. Description of winter at Copenhagen, 255
3. Night described, ... 257
4. Grongar Hill, - - . 258
5. Description of a parish poor-house, 263
6. A summer evening's meditation, - 264
7. Cheerfulness, - - - - 268
Xll CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
PATHETIC PIECES.
Page.
Sect. 1. Hymn to humanity, - 275
' 2. A night-piece on death, - - 278
3. In every condition of life, praise is due
to the Creator, - - - - 281
4. Folly of human pursuits, - - 282
5. An address to the Deity, - - 284
6. A monody on die death of lady Lyttel-
CHAPTER V.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES.
Sect. 1. Hymn to contentment, - - - 294
2. An elegy written in a country church-
3. The deserted village, - 301
4. The deserted village continued, - 307
5. The Traveller; or, a prospect of so-
6. The Traveller continued, - - 318
7. The vanity of human wishes, - 327
8. The vanity of human wishes continued, 332
SEQUEL
TO
THE ENGLISH READER.
PART I.
PIECES IN PROSE.
NARRATIVE PIECES.
Section I
Religion the foundation of content. An Allegory,
OMAR, the hermit of <he mountain Aubukabis, which rises on the east of Mecca, and overlooks the city, found one evening a man sitting pensive and alone, within a few paces of his cell. Omar regarded him with attention, and perceived that his looks were wild and haggard, and that his body was feeble and emaciated. The man also seemed to gaze steadfastly on Omar; but such was the abstraction of his mind, that his eye did not immediately take cognizance of its Object. In the moment of recollection, he started as from a dream ; he covered his face in confusion ; and bowed himself to the ground. " Son of affliction," said Omar, " who art thou, and what is thy distress ?" " My name," replied the stranger, u is Hassan, and I am a native of this city. The angel of adversity has laid his
B hand upon me, and the wretch whom thine eye compassionates, thou canst not deliver." " To deliver thee," said Omar, " belongs to him only, from whom we should receive with humility both good and evil ; yet hide not thy life from me ; for the burden which I cannot remove, I may at least enable thee to sustain." Hassan fixed his eyes upon the ground, and remained some time silent; then fetching a deep sigh, he looked up at the hermit, and thus complied with his request.
u It is now six years since our mighty lord the caliph Almalic, whose memory be blessed, first came privately to worship in the temple of the holy city. The blessing which he petitioned of the prophet, as the prophet's vicegerent, he was diligent to dispense. In the intervals of his devotion, therefore, he went about the city relieving distress, and restraining oppression : the widow smiled under his protection, and the weakness of age and infancy were sustained by his bounty. I, who dreaded no evil but sickness, and expected no good beyond the reward of my labour, was singing at my work, when Almalic entered my dwelling. He looked round with a smile of complacency ; perceiving that though it was mean, it was neat ; and though I was poor, I appeared to be content. As his habit was that of a pilgrim, I hastened to receive him with such hospitality as was in my power ; and my cheerfulness was rather increased than restrained by his presence. After he had accepted some coffee, he asked me many questions; and though by my answers I always endeavoured to excite him to mirth, yet I perceive^ that he grew thoughtful, and eyed me with a placid but fixed attention. I suspected that he had some knowledge of me, and therefore inquired his country and his name. " Hassan, said he, M I have raised thy curiosity, and it shall be satisfied : he who now talks with thee, is Almalic, the sovereign of the faithful, whose seat is the throne ot Medina, and whose commission is from above." These words struck me dumb with astonishment, though I had some doubt of their truth: but Almalic throwing back his garment, discovered the peculiarity of his vest, and put the royal signet upon his finger. I then started up, and was about to prostrate myself before him, but he prevented me : " Hassan," said he, " forbear: thou art greater than I ; and from thee I have at once derived humility and wisdom." I answered, u Mock not thy servant, who is but a worm before thee: life and death are in thy hand, and happiness and misery are the daughters of thy will." " Hassan," he replied, " I can no otherwise give life and happiness, not taking them away : thou art thyself be) reach of my bounty ; and possessed of felicity I can neither communicate nor obtain. My ir over others, fills rr*y bosoiu with perpetual soiicuuciv, and anxiety -, and yet my influence over others extends only to their vices, whether I would reward or punish. By the bow-string, lean repress violence and fraud; and by the delegation of power, I can transfer the insatiable wishes of avarice and ambition from one object to another: but with respect to virtue, I am impotent ; if I could reward it, I would reward it in thee. Thou art content, and hast therefore neither avarice nor ambition. To exalt thee, would destroy the simplicity of thy life, and diminish that happiness which I have no power either to increase or to continue." — He then rose up, and commanding me not to disclose his secret, departed.
u As soon as I recovered from the confusion and astonishment in which the caliph left me, I began to
16 t Sequel to the English Reader. Parti.
regret that ray behaviour had intercepted his bounty; and accused that cheerfulness of folly, which was the concomitant of poverty and labour. I now repined at the obscurity of my station, which my former insensibility had perpetuated. I neglected my labour, because I despised the reward; I spent the day in idleness, forming romantic projects to recover the advantages which I had lost: and at night, instead of losing myself in that sweet and refreshing sleep, from which I used to rise with new health, cheerfulness, and vigour, I dreamed of splendid habits and a numerous retinue, of gardens, palaces, feasting, and pleasures ; and waked only s to regret the illusions that had vanished. My health was at length impaired by the inquietude of my ' ; I sold all my moveables for subsistence ; and re- 1 only a mattrass, upon which I sometimes lay >e night to another.
he first moon of the following year, the caliph lin to Mecca, T.-:ih the s?.me secrecy, and for the same purposes. He was willing once more to see the man, whom he considered as deriving felicity from himself. But he found me, not singing at my work, ruddy with health, vivid with cheerfulness; but pale and dejected, sitting on the ground, and chewing opium, which contributed to substitute the phantoms of imagination for the realities of greatness. He entered with a kind of joyful impatience in his countenance, which, the moment he beheld me, was changed to a mixture of wonder and pity. I had often wished for another opportunity to address the caliph ; yet I was confounded at his presence, and, throwing myself at his feet, I laid my hand upon my head, and was speechless. " Hassan," said he, " what canst thou have lost, whose wealth was the labour of thine own hajid ; and what can have made thee sad, the spring of whose joy was in thy own bosom ? What evil hath befallen thee ? Speak, and. if I can remove it, thou art happy." I was now encouraged to look up, and I replied, " Let my lord forgive the presumption of his servant, who rather than utter a falsehood, would be dumb for ever. I am become wretched by the loss of that which I never possessed. Thou hast raised wishes, which indeed I am not worthy thou shouldst satisfy ; but why should it be thought, that he who was happy in obscurity and indigence, would not have been rendered more happy by eminence and wealth?"
" When I had finished this speech, Almalic stood some momemts in suspense, and I continued prostrate before him. u Hassan," said he, " I perceive, not with indignation but regret, that I mistook thy character. I now discover avarice and ambition in thy heart, which lay torpid only because their objects were too remote to rouse them. I cannot therefore invest thee with authority, because I would not subject my people to oppression ; and because I would not be compelled to punish thee for crimes which I first enabled thee to commit. But as I have taken from thee that which I cannot restore, I will at least gratify the wishes that I excited, lest thy heart accuse me of injustice, and thou continue still a stranger to thyself. Arise, therefore, and follow me." — I sprung from the ground as it were with the wings of an eagle ; I kissed the hem of his garment in an ecstacy of gratitude and joy ; and when I went out of my house, my heart leaped as if I had escaped from the den of a lion. I followed Almalic to the caravansary in which he lodged ; and after he had fulfilled his vows, he took me with him to Medina, He gave me an apartment in the seraglio j I was at-
B 2
1 8 Sequet to the English Reader. Part u
tended by his own servants ; my provisions were sent from his own table ; I received every week a sum from his treasury, which exceeded the most romantic of my expectations. But I soon discovered, that no dainty was so tasteful, as the food to which labour procured an appetite; no slumbers so sweet, as those which weariness invited ; and no time so well enjoyed, as that in which diligence is expecting its reward. I remembered these enjoyments with regret; and while I was sighing in the midst of superfluities, which, though they encumbered life, yet I could not give up, they were suddenly taken away. Almalic, in the midst of the glory of his kingdom, and in the full vigour of his life, expired suddenly in the bath : such thou knowest was the destiny which the Almighty had written upon his head.
" His son Aububekir, who succeeded to the throne, was incensed against me, by some who regarded me at once with contempt and envy. He suddenly withdrew my pension, and commanded that I should be expelled the palace; a command which my enemies executed with so much rigour, that within twelve hours I found myself in the streets of Medina, indigent and friendless, exposed to hunger and derision, with all the habits of luxury, and all the sensibility of pride. O ! let not thy heart despise me, thou whom experience has not taught, that it is misery to lose that which it is not happiness to possess. O ! that for me this lesson had not been written on the tablets of Providence ! I have travelled from Medina to Mecca ; but I cannot fly from myself. How different are the states in which I have been placed! The remembrance of both is bitter: for the pleasures of neither can return." — Hassan
Ghap. i. Narrative Pieces* 19
having thus ended his story, smote his hands together ;• and looking upward, burst into tears.
Omar having waited till this agony was past, went to him, and taking him by the hand, u My son," said he, u more is yet in thy power than Almalic could give, or Aububekir take away. The lesson of thy life the prophet has in mercy appointed me to explain.
u Thou wast once content with poverty and labour, only because they were become habitual, and ease and affluence were placed beyond thy hope ; for when ease and affluence approached thee, thou wast content with poverty and labour no more. That which then became the object, was also the bound of thy hope ; and he, w&ose utmost hope is disappointed, must inevitably be wretched. If thy supreme desire had been the delights of paradise, and thou hadst believed that by the tenour of thy life these delights had been secured, as more could not have been given thee, thou wouldst not have regretted that less was not offered. The content which was once enjoyed, was but the lethargy of soul; and the distress which is now suffered, will but quicken i/to action. Depart, therefore, and be thankful for all things ; put thy trust in Him, who alone can gratify the wish of reason, and satisfy thy soul with good; fix thy hope upon that portion, in comparison of which the world is as the drop of the bucket, and the dust of the balance. Return, my son, to thy labour; thy food shall be again tasteful, and thy rest shall be sweet ; to thy content also will be added stability, when it depends not upon that which is possessed upon earth, but upon that which is expected in heaven."
Hassan, upon whose mind the angel of instruction impressed the counsel of Omar, hastened to prostrate himself in the temple of the prophet. Peace dawned upon his mind, like the radiance of the morning : he returned to his labour with cheerfulness ; his devotion became fervent and habitual; and the latter days of Hassan were happier than the first.
DR. JOHNSON.
SECTION II. The vision ofMirza; exhibiting a picture of human life*
On the fifth day of the moon, which, according to the custom of my forefathers, I always keep holy, after having washed myself, and offered up my morning devotions, I ascended the high hills of Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here refreshing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life ; and passing from one thought to another, Surely, said I, man is but a shadow, and life a dream. Whilst I was thus musing, I cast my eyes towards the summit of a rock that was not far from me, w^here I discovered one in the habit of a shepherd, but who was in reality a being of superior nature. I drew near with profound reverence, and fell down at his feet. The genius smiled upon me with a look of compassion and affability, that familiarized him to my imagination, and at once dispelled all the fears and apprehensions with which I approached him. He lifted me from the ground, and taking me by the hand, Mirza, said he, I have heard thee in thy soliloquies ; follow me.
He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock ; and placing me on the top of it, Cast thy eyes eastward, said he, and tell me what thou seest. I see, said I, a huge valley, and a, prodigious tide of water rolling through it. The valley that thou seest, said he, i» the vale of misery ; and the tide of water that thou seest, is part of the great tide of eternity. What is the , reason, said I, that the tide I see rises out of a thick mist at one end, and again loses itself in a thick mist at the other? What thou seest, said he, is that portion of eternity which is called Time, measured out by the sun, and reaching from the beginning of the world to its consummation. Examine now, said he, this sea that is bounded with darkness at both ends, and tell me what thou discoverest in it. I see a bridge, said I> standing in the midst of the tide. The bridge thou seest, said he, is human life ; consider it attentively. Upon a more leisurely survey of it, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten entire arches, with several broken arches, which, added to those that were entire, made up the number about a hundred. As I was counting the arches, the genius told me that this bridge consisted at first of a thousand ; but that a great flood swept away the rest, and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now beheld it. But tell me further, said he, what thou discoverest on it. I see multitudes of people passing over it, said I, and a black cloud hanging on each end of it. As I looked more attentively, I saw several of the passengers dropping through the bridge into the great tide that flowed underneath it ; and, upon further examination, perceived there were innumerable trap-doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the passengers no sooner trod upon, than they fell through them into the tide, and immediately disappeared, These hidden pitfalls were set very thick at the entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of people no sooner broke through the cloud than many fell into them* They grew thinner towards the middle, but multiplied and lay closer together towards the end of the archesthat were entire. There were indeed some persons, but their number Was very small, that continued a kind of hobbling march on the broken arches, but fell through one after another, being quite tired and spent with so long a walk.
I passed some time in the contemplation of this wonderful structure, and the great variety of objects which it presented. My heart was filled with a deep melancholy, to see several dropping unexpectedly in the midst of mirth and jollity, and catching at every thing that stood bv them to save themselves. Some were looking up towards the heavens in a thoughtful posture, and, in the mid-st of a speculation, stumbled and fell out of sight. Multitudes were very busy in the pursuit of bubbles, that glittered in their eyes, and danced before them ; but often, when they thought themselves within the reach of them, their footinc failed, and down they sunk. la this confusion of objects, I observed some with scimifcasg in th*rir hands, and others with Urinals, who ran to and fro upon the bridge, thrusting several persons on trap-doors which did not seem to lie in their way, and which they might have escaped had they not been thus forced upon them.
The genius seeing me indulge myself in this melancholy prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough upon it. Take thine eyes off the bridge, said he, and tell me if thou seest any thing thou dost not comprehend. Upon looking up, What mean, said I, those great flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time? I see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and, among many other feathered creatures, several little winged boys that perch in great numbers upon the middle arches.
Chap. 1. Narrative Pieces. 23
These, said the genius, are envy, avarice, superstition, despair, love, with the like cares and passions that infest human life.
I here fetched a deep sigh. Alas, said I, man was made in vain! how is he given away to misery and mortality ! tortured in life, and swallowed up in death ! The genius being moved with compassion towards me, bid me quit so uncomfortable a prospect. Look no more, said he, on man in the first stage of his existence, in his setting out for eternity ; but cast thine eye on that thick mist into which the tide bears the several generations of mortals that fall into it. I directed my sight as I was ordered, and' (whether or not the good genius strengthened it with any supernatural force, or dissipated part of the mist that was before too thick for the eye to penetrate) I saw the valley opening at the farther end, and spreading forth into an immense ocean, that had a huge rock of adamant running through the midst of it, and dividing it into two equal parts. The clouds still rested on one half of it, insomuch that I could discover nothing in it ; but the other appeared to me a vast ocean, planted with innumerable islands, that were covered with fruits and flowers, and interwoven with a thousand little shining seas that ran among them. I could see persons dressed in glorious habits, with garlands upon their heads, passing among the trees, lying down by the sides of fountains, or resting on beds of flowers. Gladness grew in me at the discovery of so delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seats; but the genius told me there was no passage to them, except through the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon the bridge.
The islands, said he, that lie so fresh and green before thee* and with which the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as thou canst see, are more in number than the sands on the sea-shore. There are myriads of islands behind those which thou here discoverest, reaching further than thine eye, or even thine imagination, can extend itself. These are the mansions of good men after death, who, according to the degree and kinds of virtue in which they excelled, are distributed among these several islands, which abound with pleasures of different kinds and degrees, suitable to the relishes and perfections of those who are settled in them; every island is a paradise accommodated to its respective inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirza, habitations worth contending for? Does life appear miserable, that gives thee opportunities of earning such a reward? Is death to be feared, that will convey thee to so happy an existence ? Think not man was made in vain, who has such an eternity reserved for him. — I gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy islands. At length, said I, show me now, I beseech thee, the secrets that lie hid under those dark clouds, which cover the ocean on the other side of the rock of adamant. The genius making no answer, I turned about to address myself to him a second time, but I found that he had left me. I then turned again to the vision which I had been so long contemplating ; but instead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow valley of fiagdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels, grazing upon the sides of it.
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of Sequel to the English reader; or, Elegant selections in prose and poetry. Designed to improve the highest class of learners in reading; to establish a taste for just and accurate composition; and to promote the interests of piety and virtue.
