a patriotism they would not imitate; and in the beginning of the year
1792, regardless of existing treaties, broke in upon the unguarded
frontiers of Poland, threatening with all the horrors of a merciless
war the properties, lives, and liberties of the people.

The family of Sobieski had ever been foremost in the ranks of their
country; and at the present crisis its venerable head did not hang
behind the youngest warrior in preparations for the field.

On the evening of an anniversary of the birthday of his grandson, the
palatine rode abroad with a party of friends, who had been
celebrating the festival with their presence. The countess (his
daughter) and Thaddeus were left alone in the saloon. She sighed as
she gazed on her son, who stood at some distance, fitting to his
youthful thigh a variety of sabres, which his servant a little time
before had laid upon the table. She observed with anxiety the
eagerness of his motion, and the ardor that was flashing from his
eyes.

"Thaddeus," said she, "lay down that sword; I wish to speak with
you." Thaddeus looked gayly up. "My dear Thaddeus!" cried his mother,
and tears started to her eyes. The blush of enthusiasm faded from his
face; he threw the sabre from him, and drew near the countess.

"Why, my dear mother, do you distress yourself? When I am in battle,
shall I not have my grandfather near me, and be as much under the
protection of God as at this moment?"

"Yes, my child," answered she, "God will protect you. He is the
protector of the orphan, and you are fatherless." The countess