APPENDIX.
If by heroism, be understood that generous virtue of the soul by which man renders himself in a manner superior to his feeble nature, and approaches the divinity: if the hero be the offspring of the love which reigns between that divinity and the human heart;[1] then must this sublime title exclusively belong to those faithful imitators of our Saviour, who, in despight of sufferings, privations, and fatigues, and at the risk of their own existence, devote their lives to the happiness and prosperity of their fellow creatures.[2] Agreeably to this sentiment, Alexander, Tamerlane, and the victorious Frederick, were no other than evil geniuses born to desolate the earth. Posterity, that impartial judge of human actions, will certainly preserve their names; but will tremble lest their spirits should be re-animated, and should again produce the melancholy catastrophes which past ages have witnessed. The superb mausolea, pyramids, and obelisks, with which their ashes are covered, cannot be regarded as memorials, of gratitude and love. Sepulchres, bathed in innocent blood, and agitated by the rattling of the chains that once oppressed vanquished nations, banish the tender and pacific ideas which beneficence
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