nter,[67] who was at work upon the head, wished to give
the duke a proof of his skill: by a few judicious strokes, he
converted the crying into a laughing face. The duke, when he looked at
the child again, was in astonishment: the painter, to show himself
master of the human countenance, restored his first touches; and the
duke, in a few moments, saw the child weeping again. A preceptor may
acquire similar power over the countenance of his pupil if he has
studied the oratorical art. By the art of oratory, we do not mean the
art of misrepresentation, the art of deception; we mean the art of
showing the truth in the strongest light; of exciting virtuous
enthusiasm and generous indignation. Warm, glowing eloquence, is not
inconsistent with accuracy of reasoning and judgment. When we have
expressed our admiration or abhorrence of any action or character, we
should afterwards be ready coolly to explain to our pupils the justice
of our sentiments: by this due mixture and alternation of eloquence
and reasoning, we may cultivate a taste for the moral and sublime, and
yet preserve the character from any tincture of extravagant
enthusiasm. We cannot expect, that the torrent of passion should never
sweep away the land-marks of exact morality; but after its overflowing
impetuosity abates, we should take a calm survey of its effects, and
we should be able to ascertain the boundaries of right and wrong with
geometrical precision.

There is a style of bombast morality affected by some authors, which
must be hurtful to young readers. Generosity and honour, courage and
sentiment, are the striking qualities which seize and enchant the
imagination in romance: these qualities must be joined with justice,
prudence, economy, patience, and many humble virtues, to make a
character really estimable; but these would spoil the effect, perhaps,
of dramatic exhibitions.

Children may with much greater safety see hideous, than gigantic
representations of the passions. Richard the Third excites abhorrence;
but young Charles de Moor, in "The Robbers," commands our sympathy;
even the enormity of his guilt, exempts him from all ordinary modes of
trial; we forget the murderer, and see something like a hero. It is
curious to observe, that the legislature in Germany, and in England,
have found it necessary to interfere as to the representation of
Captain Mac Heath and the Robbers; two characters in which the tragic
and the comic muse have had powerful ef