created by approaching poverty and helplessness. Or they might enable them to reserve some portion of their stipends, by permitting their appearance without a style of dress which, while it excites undue pretension in the wearer, exposes her to privileged satire, and ensures that indigence which it renders more painful. Perhaps, too, these decayed governesses, when not wholly superannuated, might be rendered useful to other benevolent institutions. Let us suppose a range of almshouses built for the reception of a certain number; a few of the female orphans now assembled under public protection might be distributed among them; and presuming that only one girl was allotted to each decayed governess, that girl would probably grow up in surer habits of industry, decency, and piety, than in the throng of children whose contamination is a proverb. Her maintenance would be cheaper, and would add a degree of comfort and support to the person whose little tenement she shared. therefore, the strong must ever prevail over the weak: indeed, some natu ralists have asserted, that such is the state of man in savage life; but whether this be really the case, or not, there is certainly no good reason why so horrible a practice should be tolerated by man in a social and civilized state. An ingenious writer has observed, that "man is more distinguished from the animal world by devotion than by reason, as several brute creatures discover in their actions something like a faint glimmering of reason, though they betray in no single circumstance of their behaviour any thing that bears the least affinity to devotion." And how happy were it for mankind, if to this glorious distinction could be added that of being exempt from what would then be properly termed, the brutal and inhumán practice of destroying each other. Happily, Sir, for the inhabitants of these favoured isles, however they may have suffered, in common with other countries, from the effects of war, they know nothing of its practical miseries: and long, very long, may they continue in this happy ignorance. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." To enumerate the long and disgusting catalogue of evils which are the constant and never-failing attendants on a scene of actual warfare, would be to include every calamity to which the human race is subject, and every sin that degrades and vilifies mankind. To form an idea of such miseries, they must be seen and felt; no tongue can describe, no pencil depict them; no imagery of the most ardent and glow To the Editor of the European Magazine. ing imagination, but must fall short SIR, 66 HERE are few sensations more THE agreeable to the mind than those which naturally occur to it on the recollection of dangers or calamities of any kind that are past. Quæ fuit durum pati, meminisse dulce est." It is therefore reasonable that we should occasionally reflect on past misfortunes, in order to be the more sensible of our present felicity. On this principle, there is, perhaps, no subject upon which we might bestow our reflection to greater advantage, than that of war; and certainly no time more appropriate for so doing, than that of profound peace. A state of warfare is natural to the brute creation, who, not having reason for their guide, can have no just notions of right or wrong, and with whom, of the dreadful reality. We must follow the route of an army, and witness the sufferings and privations of the soldier; we must accompany him to "th'imminent deadly breach;" observe his manly efforts to discharge his duty, when even sinking under exhaustion; hear his dying groans; and, lastly, behold his blood-stained corse on the field and when we have done all this, we shall barely have entered the portal which leads to this temple of destruction. The sufferings and fate of the soldier, however lamentable, are not those which have the strongest claim upon our commiseration. He is well aware, when he enters the profession of arrus, that he becomes liable to hardships, wounds, and death; in the midst of carnage, he is only labouring in his vocation, and he is animated in his perilous pursuit, by the hope of a joyful victory. "Momento cita mors venit aut victoria leta." But, Sir, what can atone for the wanton destruction of whole towns and villages, and the cold-blooded slaughter of their unoffending inhabitants What can compensate the distracted father for the ravished innocence of his child? Who shall restore to the industrious peasant the hard-earned fruits of his labour, or shelter his houseless head, amidst the smoking ashes of his humble dwelling-These are not the fanciful visions of a romantic or perturbed imagination-not an overcharged or highly-coloured description, but a slight and imperfect adumbration of real scenes, to which the writer of this letter has been but too often the unwilling and reluctant witness. The poet who wrote, "One murder makes a villain, millions a hero," was not the only great and good man that entertained this opinion. The celebrated author of the "Night Thoughts" has expressed the same sentiment in the following lines of his "Love of Fame the universal Passion." "One to destroy is murder by the law, And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe. To murder thousands takes a specious name, War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame." respon And Doctor Glynn, in his beautiful poem "The Day of Judgment," thus forcibly points out the dreadful sibility which awaits those ambitious madmen, who, from motives of vain glory or self-aggrandisement, do not besitate to carry the baleful scourge of war into the peaceful cottage of the harmless and industrious husbandman, or to desolate and lay waste those fields which have been cultivated by his labour. "Behold the mighty murderers of mankind, They who in sport whole nations slew, or they Who to the tottering pinnacle of power Waded through seas of blood! how will detestable practice, and to wipe off this foul stigma from the human character; on For still they breathe destruction, still go Artificers of death, still monarchs dream From universal ruin, Blast the design, Great God of hosts! nor let thy creatures fall Unpitied victims at Ambition's shrine. Let us hope, however, that the nations have not been smitten in vain -that princes have been taught in the school of adversity this useful lesson, that it is their interest, as it ought to be their inclination, to be at peace with each other-and that the period is at length arrived, when (in civilized Europe at least) nation shall no longer war against nation. I am aware, that the idea of a general peace, which should be durable, is considered by many as chimerical; and I may be tauntingly told, that the theory is too sublime to be ever reduced to practice. I confess, however, I see nothing extravagant in the hypothesis, that a system might be established, which, in the words of an eminent statesman, might infuse into the law which governs the civilized world a spirit which would at least diminish the frequency, or cir cumscribe the calamities of war, and meliorate the social and beneficent rela tions of peace. A system, in a word, whose leading principle should be the noblest of all ambitions, that of promoting peace on earth, and good will to man. It is at all events pleasing, and may possibly be not altogether useless, to indulge in such a speculation. Let us suppose, then, that a General European Congress were established, at which the several nations should be represented by an experienced and enlightened statesman chosen from each nation for the purpose. The members should be constituted by their office the guardians and protectors of the Law of Nations, and they might even be empowered to make new laws, and to repeal or alter old ones. This congress should assemble once in three years, or oftener if it should be deemed necessary, and the place of assembly should be alternately the capital of each represented state. At these general sessions, all differences of whatever nature, whether commercial or other wise, should be discussed and determined, and every decision of the congress, voted by two-thirds of its members, should be held as obligatory and conclusive by the parties concerned. Really, Sir, it does not strike me, that there is any thing Utopian in such a project, nor can I discover any reason why it should not be productive of good. By the natural rule of reason ing from analogy, we ought to form our judgment of things unexperienced by what we have experienced; and if we see, in our own representative government, the frequently jarring in terests of the different component parts of a great empire quietly adjusted, with out having recourse to violent measures, is it unreasonable "parvis componere magna" to draw the inference, that the conflicting interests of nations might be also reconciled without the dire necessity of an appeal to arms? At all events, the experiment would be worth trying, and never was there a more favourable moment for it than the present. The alliance which has been concluded between the great powers on the continent, and acceded to by our own government, was, no doubt, formed in the spirit of peace, and the Sovereigns who it is said are shortly to meet together, are unques tionably actuated by the desire of adopting such measures as may pro mote the stability and permanence of that peace which has been so happily concluded by their united exertions. May their efforts be crowned with suc cess, and may their decisions tend to the general, and, if possible, equal, be nent of the different nations they repreR. A.. D. sent. nat," the company were going to express their approbation aloud, but they were prevented by the presence of the minister. This did not escape him, and seemed to embarrass him for moment. When the reading was finished, every one went away except Fouche. After some general remarks upon the plan and the characters of the piece, he added, "in respect to that verse, I utterly despise it."-Raynouard did not answer, but Fouche walked up and down with long strides, and said, after a. pause, "the political part of your tragedy is very weak; you stand upon the tower of Notre Dame instead of penetrating into the interior. In poli tics every thing has a different point of view. Circumstances-you do not know the effect of circumstances."Raynouard interrupted him by repeating the verse, “Le jugement d'un Roi n'est qu'un assassinat,' and Fouche left the room. FRENCH TRANSLATION. The French translator of Franklin's Correspondence has made a true French blunder. Franklin somewhere says, 66 People imagined that an American was a kind of Yahoo." Upon this the translator makes the following note: "Yahoo. It must be an animal. It is affirmed that it is the Opossum; but ! have not been able to find the word Yahoo in any dictionary of Natural History"!!!-This reminds us of an anecdote also founded on one of Swift's admirable works:-A gentleman saw a person poring over an atlas, and seemingly disconcerted by some want of success." Can't you find what you want," said he, “or can I assist you?” "I don't know (was the reply), for I have been looking two hours through all latitudes and longitudes, and cannot discover this cursed Lilliput any where !" To the Editor of the European Magazine. SIR, HE following letter I received from a young man, whom I attended in jail, in consequence of his having attempted his own life by inflicting upon himself a wound in the throat, of which he died a few days after committing the rash action. I send you this transcript of it, the original being so blotted with the tears of his dying mother, as to be almost illegible to any one but to me, who had read it previ ously to her getting possession of it. If you think it may be useful, it is much at your service for insertion in your Miscellany. I am, Sir, Your obedient servant, L-shire, May 16, 1818. REVEREND SIR, W. F. T. I AM disposed to think you will pay some attention to the subject of this letter, when I tell you that it is written in my death-hour, and that I have Dot another hour to live; - the confession which it contains, and the remorse of conscience which has produced it, may perhaps be of use to some equally heedless youth as myself: who, without the least consideration of the misery which he occasions to an anxious father and heaps up for himself, rejects the generous care and pru deat advice of him whom he ought to love and venerate in grateful affection and duty, and surrenders his own best consolations to the caprice of an inexperienced judgment, and the vicious impressions of evil association. Alas! had my ill-requited parent been alive, how gladly would I have sent to him this acknowledgement of my errors; and what a peaceful moment would my passage from this world to the next have been, had I been blest with the assurance of his forgiveness. But, Sir, imagine to yourself the wretched extremity to which I have brought myself, when I feel that I am dying under the ban of a broken-hearted father's curse, and in utter despair of pardon from my Goo. I would make some amends for the injury which I have done to society, by leaving my example upon record as a beacon to its younger members, that may warn them of the certain retribution which must sooner or later overtake the disobedient child in this world, with agonies of reflection that give to Europ. Mag. Fol. LXXIII. May 1818, ९ the sting of Death a pang more full of anguish than the separation of soul and body. I now write to you from a prison, in which I have been immured for the murder of my kindest friend in a duel. It is true I have done no more than hundreds have done before me. I have immolated a husband and a father upon 3 E the vengeance of his Maker by hurling back upon that Maker's omnipotence his gracious grant of life, after having polluted it with every crime that could render it a curse to others and to himself? I cannot stop to meditate upon the tremendous question-I see by my watch that I have only a few more minutes to exist, for I have fixed on the next stroke of the prison-clock as the last that will mark the hour to my liv. ing ear. Can you believe it, Sir? I was the son of a Clergyman-I was the darling of my father-I was the beloved of my mother-I was the promise, the fairest hope of their parental care-l was respected, esteemed, nay, courted, by the friends of both; for my poor abused father gave me an excellent education, even to the inconvenient extent of mortgaging my widowed mother's jointure to defray the expenses of my ac quirements? and that mother was widowed by my paracidal band! And thou, too, beauteous emblem of pious simplicity-thou, Emma!-thou, who couldst pledge to me thy young, and artless heart-thou didst assure me that I was once worthy of thy love; but thou hast escaped my snares. The Providence of Heaven removed thee from my libertine grasp. I must be hated by thee, yet I have not whelmed thine innocence in the vortex of my crimes! Thou art now in a foreign land with the guardian of thy youthful years-Where is thy last letter? I will read it once more. No, no, 'tis a useless pang; I will not read it-'tis time I were no more. I cannot pray, or I would invoke all God's choicest blessings on thee. Farewell, my Emma! Mine art thou? Devil that I am; how dare I call thee mine? Angel as thou art!-I give thee to thy God! He is alone worthy of thee; for thou art His in mind, and heart, and soul! And thou shalt be a ministering spirit of His Throne, when I am the companion of kindred demous! But whither am I wandering-Sir, I would have thought of Heaven; but I am myself a Hell! You must contect my dreadful tale, and it shall be brief. I think I have told you I was the son of a clergyman. I lived until I was twenty under the auspices of his tender care. Then -O what a rush of frightful, thoughts press upon my brain-then, Sir, I entered the army. Among my brother-officers, I singled out one who was the confident of my every wish. He was brave, joyous, unrestrained-tod manly to be restricted by such dronish maxims of religion and moral truth as those that were stored in my bosom. He laughed at being told his pleasures were false-his enjoyments transient. He revelled in all the gratifications of sense. "I live," said he, to make the most of life; the next ball may stretch" me on the field; then why anticipate the blow? My good fellow, you may be a saint-I am a sinner; and so I save myself all the reluctant scruples of your struggles, between a desire to taste the joy, and a superstitious fear of its forbidden banquet." It was by such remonstrances that be at length subdued my apprehensions. I took the goblet of licentiousness from his hand, and drained it to the dregs. I escaped the wounds which mingled him among the slain-I saw him fall-I heard his last groan; but I called to mind that I had gained a step by succeeding to his command. Peace put a stop to my military career. I returned to my father's house; but, ah! how altered now the tranquil scene! By my repeated drafts upon his resources, I had diminished his comforts. He expostulated-1 retorted. I no longer regarded him as an authorised monitor, and scorned to brook his earnest yet mild representations of my unfilial re turn for all his anxieties and liberal supplies. My companion in arms bad perfected his work before he fell-He had rooted out of my breast all consciousness of duty. I was old enough, he would often say to me, to think and act for myself. I soon adopted the senti ment-1 persisted in so doing. Evil was now my good; and with what alacrity I followed its suggestion let the sequel speak. I was now on a lieutenant's half pay. I was cramped in my purse, but I was too mucir a man of pleasure to contract my expenses. Heft my paternal house without deigning to take leaves of the authors of my being-1 had infused the most deadly poison in their balfemplied cup of life-filled it to the brim with woe-I planted the most piercing thorns in every path of their declining course-nay, Sir, 1 rejected their embrace, when I left them for the metropolis; whither I was invited by a woman to whom my military friend bad introduced me, as I passed through that centre of gaiety and delight, in our march to join our regiment. In her arms |