SE CUR' ED, obtained.
HES' I TA TED, paused.
MIS' ER A BLE, wretched.
SUP' PLI ANT, petitioner; beggar.
PECUL' IAR, singular; remarkable.
IN DIC' A TIVE, showing; intimating.
SO LIC' IT ED, asked; requested.
COS TUME', mode of dress.
VIG' OR OUS, stout; strong.
SYN' O NYM, a word meaning the same as some other word.
IN' FA MY, utter disgrace.
[Headnote 1: TAL' LEY RAND, a distinguished French statesman, was born Feb. 13th, 1754. He died May 20th, 1838.]
BENEDICT ARNOLD.
1. There was a day when Talleyrand[Headnote 1] arrived in Havre, direct from Paris. It was the darkest hour of the French Revolution. Pursued by the blood-hounds of the Reign of Terror, stripped of every wreck of property or power, Talleyrand secured a passage to America, in a ship about to sail. He was a beggar and a wanderer in a strange land, to earn his bread by daily labor.
2. "Is there an American staying at your house?" he asked the landlord of the hotel. "I am bound to cross the water, and should like a letter to a person of influence in the New World." The landlord hesitated a moment, then replied: "There is a gentleman up-stairs, either from America or Britain; but whether an American or an Englishman, I can not tell."
3. He pointed the way, and Talleyrand, who, in his life, was Bishop, Prince, and Prime Minister, ascended the stairs. A miserable suppliant, he stood before the stranger's door, knocked, and entered. In the far corner of the dimly-lighted room, sat a man of some fifty years, his arms folded, and his head bowed on his breast. From a window directly opposite, a faint light rested on his forehead.
4. His eyes looked from beneath the downcast brows, and gazed on Talleyrand's face with a peculiar and searching expression. His face was striking in outline,—the mouth and chin indicative of an iron will. His form, vigorous, even with the snows of fifty winters, was clad in a dark, but rich and distinguished costume.
5. Talleyrand advanced, stated that he was a fugitive; and, under the impression that the gentleman before him was an American, he solicited his kind and generous offices. He related his history in eloquent French and broken English.
6. "I am a wanderer, and an exile. I am forced to flee to the New World, without a friend or home. You are an American! Give me, then, I beseech you, a letter of yours, so that I may be able to earn my bread. I am willing to toil in any manner; the scenes of Paris have seized me with such horror, that a life of labor would be a paradise to a career of luxury in France. You will give me a letter to one of your friends? A gentleman like yourself has, doubtless, many friends."
7. The strange gentleman rose. With a look that Talleyrand never forgot, he retreated to the door of the next chamber,—his eyes looking still from beneath his darkened brow. He spoke as he retreated backward,—his voice was full of meaning. "I am the only man born in the New World, who can raise his hand to God and say, I have not a friend, not one, in all America!" Talleyrand never forgot the overwhelming sadness of that look which accompanied these words.