Then I must be endowed with the power of Pisistratus, John replied, before I can aspire to emulate his forbearance: you must also allow Sir David Owen the plea of drunkenness and of course the loss of reason. If under these circumstances I had the power of condemning him to death as an atonement for his insolence, certainly I should not exercise that power, as it could be no proof of an honourable spirit to revenge myself upon a defenceless man? and when my word was to decide for life or death, I should conceive no choice was left to me but to forgive. I can honour Pisistratus very highly for his royal magnanimity, but I suspect, my dear grandfather, I must wait till I am a king before I can save myself from the imputation of cowardice by quoting his example. If I could suppose myself too great to be dishonoured by an insult, I hope I should be too generous to be gratified by revenging it. Grandson, said the old man, (vainly endeavouring to repress his feelings) I perceive you are too subtle to be caught by sophistry. You distinguish rightly: the instance I adduced does not apply to the case in question. Here is your letter; take it, but recollect that your honour is not yet called upon to notice its contents. Mere malice only merits your contempt; reserve your spirit for a worthier cause, and may providence in its mercy grant you length of days! for if you, who seem born to give the brightest lustre to a name of no mean note, should in the blossom of your virtues prematurely fall, and I survive to mourn the extinction of my hopes, and the loss of one so infinitely dear, what will it avail me that the last sun, which went down in my horizon, threw a gleam of light, that glittered as it sunk to rise no more? A signal now given by Cecilia summoned our young hero into his mother’s chamber. A life passed without pleasure was now about to close in a death without pain. Though the power of speech was lost, her actions indicated that she possessed her senses to the last. In her expiring moments she had grasped the hand of her son so fast in her’s, that it would have required a stronger effort than he was disposed to make for disengaging it from her hold, and it was not till several sad minutes had gone by, when the convulsive nerve relaxed, and the maternal pressure was no longer felt. John now withdrew from this melancholy scene, and, retiring to his chamber, devoted himself for a while to solitary sorrow.