To cultivate the wild, licentious savage Sy. Patience, just Heavens! Excuse an old man's warmth. What are these wondrous civilizing arts, This Roman polish, and this smooth behavior, That render man thus tractable and tame? Are they not solely to disguise our passions, Ju. To strike thee dumb, turn up thy eyes to Cato! While good, and just, and anxious for his friends, Renouncing sleep, and rest, and food, and ease, Sy. Believe me, prince, there's not an African And, if the following day he chance to find Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury. Ju. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern What virtues grow from ignorance and choice, Nor how the hero differs from the brute. But grant that others could with equal glory Look down on pleasures and the baits of sense; Where shall we find the man that bears affliction, Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato? Heavens! with what strength, what steadiness of mind, He triumphs in the midst of all his sufferings! How does he rise against a load of woes, And thank the gods that throw the weight upon him! Had not your royal father thought so highly Ju. Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh ? Sy. Abandon Cato. Ju. Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan By such a loss. Sy. Ay, there's the tie that binds you! You long to call him father. Marcia's charms Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato; No wonder you are deaf to all I say. Ju. Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate; I've hitherto permitted it to rave, And talk at large; but learn to keep it in, Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it. Sy. Sir, your great father never used me thus. Alas! he's dead; but can you e'er forget The tender sorrow and the pangs of nature, Sy. By laying up his counsels in your heart. When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface. Sy. Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your safety. Sy. And therefore died. Ju. Better to die ten thousand deaths, Than wound my honor. Sy. Rather say your love. Ju. Syphax, I've promised to preserve my temper Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame I long have stifled, and would fain conceal? Sy. Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer love, Tis easy to divert and break its force; The glowing dames of Zama's royal court Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget Ju. "Tis not a set of features, or complexion, Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks, ADDISON. 129. A Search after Happiness. 'How happy I'll be to-morrow!" exclaimed little Slyder Downehylle, in anticipation of Christmas," O, how happy I shall be to-morrow!" "Couldn't you contrive to be happy a little now?" replied uncle John, who had learned somewhat to distrust anticipation and its gorgeous promises. "Happy now, uncle John!" retorted little Slyder Downehylle, rather contemptuously, "happy now! what with, I should like to know what shall I be happy with now? Where are the cakes, the candy, the pies-where the hobby horse that somebody's going to give me and all the Christmas gifts? How I wish to-morrow was here! What a long day what a long evening - what a great while I've got to sleep!" Little Slyder Downehylle became quite cross, and uncle John whistled. Twenty-four hours afterwards, little Slyder Downehylle was still more cross; he had been happy with candy, with cakes, and with pies, until he was very uncomfortable indeed; he had been happy with toys, until he had quarrelled with his little companions, and strewed the room with broken playthings; he had been happy with his hobbyhorse, until he got a fall. "O, what a stupid day!" said little Slyder Downehylle. "I wish to-morrow would come-I'll be so happy at aunt Betsy's." It is unnecessary to intrude at aunt Betsy's, for the events there were of a character strongly resembling what had already occurred. Little Slyder Downehylle went to bed in tears. It was always so with the unfortunate Slyder Downehylle. Throughout life he wanted something to be happy with; and, strangely enough, it universally occurred, that, when he had obtained the thing, it did not prove to be exactly the thing he wanted. His expectations were never realized, and he was, therefore, constantly in a state of disappointment. Unlucky Slyder Downehylle! It was deplorable, too, that such should be the case, for Slyder Downehylle was anxious to be happy he was always looking forward to be happyfor something to be happy with. When he got up in the morning, it was always his resolve to be happy in the afternoon; and, if not successful in accomplishing his purpose at that time, he endeavored, as far as possible, to retrieve the failure by forming a similar determination for the evening. No one ever had a greater variety of schemes for living happy-very happy-than he; for living happy next week, for living happy next month, or next year; but it appeared to him that a malignant fate was sure to interfere, in order that his projects might be frustrated. At school, he was always thinking how happy he would be on Saturday afternoon; but then sometimes it rained on Saturday afternoon, or his companions would not do as he |