by Porsena to explain certain intimations of danger which he had obscurely thrown out, and being threatened with extreme suffering in case of a refusal, he calmly thrust his right hand into a fire which had been kindled for the purpose of a sacrifice, and steadily held it there burning in the flames, for the sole purpose of giving the Etrurian king, who was at that time at war with the Romans, to understand that he was not a person to be influenced by fear or intimidated by suf fering. Is not an act of this kind, either by this person or by others, to be regarded as a decisive and remarkable instance of volitional energy; showing most clearly that, while power is truly and emphatically appropriate to the Will, it does not exist in all persons in an equal degree, but is conferred more richly on some than on others?

There is a similar instance in the life of Archbishop Cranmer. In an unguarded and unhappy hour he had subscribed to doctrines which he did not believe; an act which he afterward deeply repented of, as the greatest miscarriage of his life. And when he was subsequently led to the stake, he stretched out the hand which had been the instrument in this false and discreditable subscription, and without betraying, either by his countenance or motions, the least sign of weakness or even of feeling (such are the very words of the historian), he held it in the flames till it was entirely consumed.

§ 178. Energy of the will as shown in imminent danger.

Diversities in the strength and energy of the will are clearly seen in all cases of imminent and sudden danger, particularly danger of death. The fear of death is as natural to man as the love of life; and but few men can be suddenly exposed to death, especially if it appear to be inevitable, without experiencing a shrinking back from it. We find some persons, however, who have such energy of purpose, such remarkable decision and firmness, that they meet it, not merely as it comes in the milder arrangements of

Providence, but in its most horrid and violent forms, with entire calmness, and even seek it as something desirable. The Roman Decii voluntarily devoted themselves to death for their country. Regulus, when he had been made a prisoner by the Carthaginians, of his own accord took a course, safe and honourable, as he supposed, for Rome, but which he clearly foresaw (and the result even more than realized his anticipations) would be attended with extreme cruelty and destruction to himself. In the dreadful wars of modern times, which have carried sorrow and desolation over Europe and America, how often have we heard of deeds and enterprises of valour, which have excited our admiration in view of the wonderful energy of purpose they have displayed, at the same time that we deeply lamented the occasions that called them forth. In the war of La Vendée, the celebrated Kleber called an officer to him for whom he had a particular esteem and friendship. "Take," said he to his military friend, "a company of grenadiers; stop the enemy before that ravine; you will be killed, but you will save your comrades." "I shall do it, general," replied the officer, with as much calmness as if he had been required to perform a simple military evolution. He fulfilled his word, and arrested the enemy's progress, but perished in the achievement.

But it is not the soldier alone who has exhibited this energy of purpose amid the imminent danger of death. Not unfrequently have the philanthropist and the Christian Missionary placed themselves in situations where extreme suffering, and even death itself, seemed to be inevitable. They have not only had the resolution to leave their country and home, but to plunge into dungeons, to walk on their errands of mercy amid pestilential atmospheres, to wander through pathless forests, and over burning sands and precipitous mountains. In the boundless forests of North and South America: on the shores of the Nile and the Ganges, and on the banks of solitary streams unknown to civilized man; in frozen Greenland and

amid the burning sands of Africa; wherever there is ignorance to be enlightened, or sorrow to be soothed, or souls to be saved, their labours and suffering, and oftentimes their triumphant deaths, have shown, not merely the sincerity of their belief, but the mighty strength of purpose which is lodged in the Will, and especially when it is harmonized with the will of God.

§ 179. Energy of the will as shown in martyrdoms.

Diversities in the power of the Will are quickly discovered, not only in the situations just referred to, of exposure to imminent danger, but in all extraordinary and trying situations whatever. Whenever we open a book of war, of famine, of pestilence, or of martyrdoms, and read in it the conduct of men under these terrible inflictions, we open and read a new and most interesting chapter in the philosophy of the human mind. It is impossible for a person to read the history of Martyrdoms, in particular, without entertaining a deep regard and admiration for the sufferers, founded not merely upon considerations connected with the cause of their sufferings and death, but also upon the moral sublimity of their fixed and immutable resolve. It may indeed be said, and said with truth, that they were supported by religious faith and hope. We may rest assured, nevertheless, that the cases of marked and decisive triumph over bodily suffering, such as we are now noticing, were, for the most part, those of persons who possessed an original and innate energy of the Will. It is true that they were enabled to endure a great increase of suffering with the aids of religion; but they were, for the most part, persons who could have firmly and triumphantly endured much suffering without it. It was this combination of original energy of character with the blessed aids of religion, that supported Jerome of Prague, who sung hymns as he went to the place of execution, embraced the stake with cheerfulness, and, when the executioner went behind him to set fire to the fagots, exclaimed, "Come here and kindle it be

fore my eyes; for, had I been afraid of it, I had not come here, having had so many opportunities to escape."

It was this combination of communicated faith and natural energy which has characterized other historical instances.-Maccail, one of the Scotch Covenant preachers, was subjected in the year 1666 to the torture, which, in reference to the process gone through, is called in Scotland the boots. The torturers place a kind of iron boot close on the leg of the sufferer, and then drive wedges between this and the leg. Maccail, who had been a sincere and conscientious preacher of the doctrines of Christ as he understood them, was compelled to undergo this dreadful form of suffering; but, supported by a strong faith and an indomitable will, he remained true to his principles and his cause, although he expired under the process; a man who may be said to have been triumphant in the moment of his destruction. His last words, uttered in the very moments of death, and with a distinct and impressive voice, are very remarkable; perhaps, when we consider the peculiar circumstances of the case, a mind in glory and a body in ruins, they are as much so as any words in all history. "Farewell, sun, moon, and stars. Farewell, kindred and friends. Farewell, world and time. Farewell, weak and frail body. Welcome, eternity. Welcome, angels and saints. Welcome, the Saviour of the world. And welcome, God, the judge of all.”*

§ 180. Subject illustrated from two classes of public speakers. In this connexion we are naturally led to make the remark, that there are not only some situations, but some arts and callings in life, in which a high degree of decision and energy of the will is absolutely necessary to success. Among other arts (we do not propose to mention all of them where this trait seems to be especially requisite), a high degree of voluntary energy is exceedingly important to that of the orator. * Bishop Burnet's History of his own Time, Reign of Charles II.

And we are here furnished with grounds of distinction and comparison between men of eloquence. There are some public speakers who greatly fail in efficiency of the Will. Possessed of intellectual powers that command the admiration of all, they are still acknowledged to have a weak point here. When they arise to speak in public, they have a clear perception of the subject of debate; and if there are any exciting elements in it, their passions are enkindled, and the texture of their argument is rendered heated and radiant with the flame. The strong workings of the sensibilities are seen in the agitated nerves, the violent gesticulation, and the contortions of the muscles. And we might expect great results, were it not that the presiding power of the will, upon which, under such circumstances, everything depends, is not equal to the occasion. The voluntary power staggers upon its throne. They lose the control of themselves; so that the mind, freighted as it is with thought and argument, is violently driven about, like a ship caught in a whirlwind.

But there are other public speakers, who combine a high degree of intellectual ability with a no less signal energy of the Will. On the occasions of public debate, however momentous, they arise with perfect calmness. The class of persons whom we now have in view are not without passion. On the contrary, the passions exist in a decided degree, and are capable of being aroused and of being impregnated with tremendous energy. But under no circumstances do they permit the passions to be so aroused as to reject and annul the supervision and control of the higher power of the will. They at times permit them to operate, so far as may be necessary to infuse vitality and vigour into the intellect; but always hold them, even in their highest exercises, amenable to the effective superintendence of volition. Accordingly, when they consider it as suiting their purpose, they let them loose, and at once their voice and all the other methods of oratorical communication become the indices