III.
THE FAITHLESS GUARDIAN.
[_]
“It was the custom of the Falisci to have the same person
as master and companion of their children: and as it is at this
day the custom in Greece, they had many boys committed to
the care of one master. The children of the princes were
instructed, as is usually the case, by a person pre-eminent for his
learning. This man had during peace adopted the custom of
leading out the boys before the city for the sake of play and
exercise; this practice being not interrupted by the war, he was
used to draw them out from the gate at shorter or longer
distances; and by varying their sports and conversation he
advanced when an opportunity occurred further than usual, and thus
led them on within the stations, and from thence into the Roman
camp, and the tent of Camillus the general. There to this act
of wickedness he added a still more iniquitous speech; saying,
that ‘he delivered Falerii into the hands of the Romans; since
he gave into their own power those boys whose parents were the
heads of the State.’ On hearing which Camillus replied, ‘Thou
hast not come, wicked man, with thy wicked gift to a people
and a commander like thyself.’....He then had him stripped
of his clothing, and with his hands tied behind his back,
delivered him up to the boys, furnishing them with rods, to
drive the traitor back into the city.”
Such he, methinks, to whom 'tis given
To rear and mould the sons of Heaven;
(All children they of Royal Blood,
A more than princely brotherhood)
Yet turns the task to him assign'd
To vitiate the youthful mind;—
And leaves them with the foe to be
For ever in captivity.
Such he who in the untainted soul
Lets vainly loose the visions foul
Of evil spirits, which abide
In classic beauties, there to hide,
Like spiders when on watch they lie
In their sun-gilded tapestry;
Yea, there have been who gather'd lies
Of all those heathen deities,—
Such fabled legends have inwrought
Through limbec of their own bad thought;
And thence in minds yet free from ill
With all impurities instil.
Haply the ends which such await
Are mirror'd in this traitor's fate.
Ye watch Christ's little ones, oh, see
Ye make not this high ministry
The snare of youth, the woe of age;
For 'tis an Angel's privilege.
