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reached the spot of his nativity. The home of his ancestors was in the possession of others, a new and lordly race. Strange eyes looked upon him, where the voice of his parents was wont to welcome his returning steps with delight. He could not endure the grief in which none participated, and this solitude among scenes which his childhood loved. He sought to shake off at once his sorrows and his loneliness, and enlisted as a volunteer in the Protestant army. He flattered himself that religion dictated the measure: yet sometimes, in a sleepless hour, the monition of his distant benefactor would come mournfully, "He that taketh the sword shall perish by the sword." His first exploit in arms was at