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men was universally extolled; but it required years of exertion and severity before Lord Wellington brought the British army to its present state of discipline. The moral discipline of an army has never perhaps been understood by any General except the great Gustavus. Even in its best state, with all the alleviations of courtesy and honour, with all the correctives of morality and religion, war is so great an evil, that to engage in it without a clear necessity is a crime of the blackest dye. When the necessity is clear, (and such, assuredly, I hold it to have been in our struggle with Buonaparte,) it then becomes a crime to shrink from it. What I have said of the Prussians relates solely to their conduct in an allied country; and I must also say that the Prussian officers with whom I had the good fortune to associate, were men who in every respect did honour to their profession and to their country. But that the general conduct of their troops in Belgium had excited a strong feeling of disgust and indignation we had abundant and indisputable testimony. In France they had old wrongs to revenge,_and forgiveness of injuries is not among the virtues which are taught in camps. The annexed anecdotes are reprinted from one of our newspapers, and ought to be preserved. A Prussian Officer, on his arrival at Paris, particularly requested to be billetted on the house of a lady inhabiting the Faubourg St Germain. His request was complied with, and on his arriving at the lady's hotel he was shown into a small but comfortable sittingroom, with a handsome bedchamber adjoining it. With these rooms he appeared greatly dissatisfied, and desired that the lady should give up to him her apartment, (on the first floor) which was very spacious, and very elegantly furnished. To this the lady made the strongest objections; but the Officer insisted, and she was under the necessity of retiring to the second floor. He afterwards sent a message to her by one of her servants, saying that he destined the second floor for his Aide-de-Camp, etc. etc. This occasioned more violent remonstrances from the lady, but they were totally unavailing, and unattended to by the Officer, whose ouly answer was, “ obeissez a mes ordres.” He then called for the cook, and told him he must prepare a handsome dinner for six persons, and desired the lady's butler to take care that the best wines the cellar contained should be forthcoming. After dinner he desired the hostess should be sent for:-she obeyed the summous. The Officer then addressed her, and said, “ No doubt, Madam, but you consider my conduct as indecorous and brutal in the extreme.” “I must confess,” replied she, “ that I did not expect such treatment from an officer; as, in general, military men are ever disposed to show every degreee of deference and respect to our sex.” * You think me then a most perfect barbariano answer me frankly.” “If you really, then, desire my undisguised opinion of the subject, I must say, that I think your conduct truly barbarous.” “Madam, I am entirely of your opinion; but I only wished to give you a specimen of the behaviour and conduct of your son, during six months that he resided in my house, after the entry of the French army into the Prussian capital. I do not, however, mean to follow a bad example. You will resume, therefore, your apartment to-morrow, and I will seek lodgings at some public hotel.” The lady then retired, extolling the generous conduct of the Prussian officer, and deprecating that of her son.
Note 21, page 533, col. 1.
Sir Thomas Brown writes upon this subject with his usual feeling.
“We applaud not,” says he, a the judgment of Machiavel, that Christianity makes men cowards, or that, with the considence of but half dying, the despised virtues of patience and humility have abased the spirits of men, which Pagan principles exalted; but rather regulated the wildness of audacities in the attempts, grounds, and eternal sequels of death, wherein men of the boldest spirit are often prodigiously temerarious. Nor can we extenuate the valour of ancient martyrs, who contemned death in the uncomfortable scene of their lives, and in their decrepit martyrdoms did probably lose not many months of their days, or parted with life when it was scarce worth living. For (beside that long time past holds no consideration unto a slender time to come) they had no small disadvantage from the constitution of old age, which naturally makes men fearful, and complexionally superannuated from the bold and courageous thoughts of youth and fervent years. But the contempt of death from corporal animosity promoteth not our felicity. They may sit in the Orchestra and noblest seats of Heaven, who have
freedom. Who tosses the bird into the air after his wings are clipped: So far from restoring it to the power of flight, it will but disable it more."—Travels, 3, 139.
Note 24, page 536, col. 2.
the lark Poured forth her lyric strain.
The epithet lyric, as applied to the lark, is borrowed from one of Donne's poems. I mention this more particularly for the purpose of repairing an accidental omission in the notes to Roderick;-it is the duty of every poet to acknowledge all his obligations of this kind to his predecessors.
Note 25, page 538, col. 2.
Public crimes Draw on their proper punishment below.
I will insert here a passage from one of Lord Brooke's poems. Few writers have ever given proofs of profounder thought than this friend of Sir Philip Sidney. Had his powers of language been equal to his strength of intellect, I scarcely know the author whom he would not have surpassed.
21. Some love no equals, some superiors scorn, One seeks more worlds, and this will Helen have; This covets gold, with divers faces borne, These humours reign, and lead men to their grave; whereby for bayes and little wages, we Ruin ourselves to raise up tyranny.
-2. And as when winds among themselves do jar, Seas there are tost, and wave with wave must fight; So when power's restless humours bring forth War, There people bear the faults and wounds of Might; The error and diseases of the head Descending still until the limbs be dead.
Yet are not people's errors ever free
From guilt of wounds they saffer by the war;
Rise of itself: God's plagues still grounded are
A Treatise of Warres.
The extract which follows, from the same author, bears as directly upon the effects of the military system as if it had been written with a reference to Buonaparte's government. The thoughtful reader will perceive its intrinsic value, through its difficult language aud uncouth versification:-the fool and the coxcomb may scoff if they like. 59. Let us then thus conclude, that only they whose end in this world is the world to come, Whose hearts' desire is that their desires may Measure themselves by Truth's eternal doom, Can in the War find nothing that they prize, Who in the world would not be great or wise.
69. with these, I say, War, Conquest, Honour, Fame, Stand (as the world) neglected or forsaken, Like Error's cobwebs, in whose curious frame She only joys and mourns, takes and is taken ; In which these dying, that to God live thus, Endure our conquests, would not conquer us.
61. Where all states else that stand on power, not grace, And gage desire by no such spiritual measure, Make it their end to reign in every place, To war for honour, for revenge, and pleasure;
Thinking the strong should keep the weak in awe, And every inequality give law.
62. These serve the world to rule her by her arts, Raise mortal trophies upon mortal passion; Their wealth, strength, glory, growing from those bearis which to their ends they ruin and disfashion; The more remote from God the less remorse; Which still gives Honour power, Occasion force.
63. These make the Sword their judge of wrong and right, Their story Fame, their laws but Power and wit: Their endless mine all vanities of Might, Rewards and Pains the m And in this sphere, this wil None prosper lighly but the perfect Devils. A Treatise of Warre.
Note 26, page 538, col. 2.
* Let no ignorance,” says Lord Brooke, a seem to excuse mankind; since the light of truth is still near us, the tempter and accuser at such continual war within us, the laws that guide so good for them that obey, and the first shape of every sin so ugly, as whosoever does but what he knows, or forbears what he doubts, shall easily follow nature unto grace.”
a God left not the world without information from the beginning; so that wherever we find ignorance, it must be charged to the account of man, as having rejected, and not to that of his Maker, as having denied, the necessary means of instruction.”—Hoane's Considerations on the Life of St John the Baptist.
Note 27, page 539, col. 1. Napoleon. It is amusing to look back upon the flattery which was offered to Buonaparte. Some poems of Mme Fanny de Beauharnois exhibit rich specimens of this kind: she praises him for
la douce humanità Quile dévore, de sa flamme.
Of the battle of Austerlitz she says,
Dans ce jour mémorable on dut finir la guerre,
Subsequent events give to some of these adulatory strains an interest which they would else have wanted. Napoléon, objet denos hommages, Et Josephine, objet non moins aimé, couple que l'Eternel l'un pour l'autre a formé, vous éte, aes plus beaux ouvrages, In some stanzas called Les Trois Bateaux, upon the vessels in which Alexander and Buonaparte held their conferences before the Peace of Tilsit, the following prophecy is introduced, with a felicity worthy of the Edinburgh Review: Tremble, tremble, fière Albion : Guide par d'heureuses étoiles, ces généreux hateaux, exempts d'ambition, vont triompher par tout de les cent mille voiles. The Grand Napoleon is the Enfant chori de Mars et d'Apollon, Qu'aucun revers ne peut abattre. Here follows part of an Arabic poem by Michael Salbag, addressed to Buonaparte on his marriage with Marie Louise, and printed with translations in French prose and German verse, in the first volume of the Fundgruben des Orients. « August Prince, whom Heaven has given us for Sovereign, and who holdest among the greatest monarchs of thy age the same rank which the diadem holds upon the head of Kings, «Thou hast reached the summit of happiness, and by thine invincible courage hast attained a glory which the mind of man can scarcely comprehend. a Thou hast imprinted upon the front of time the remembrance of thine innunerable exploits in characters of light, one of which alone suffices with its brilliant rays to enlighten the whole universe. « Who can resist him who is never abandoned by the assistance of Ileaven, who has Victory for his tuide, and whose course is directed by God himself? • In every age Fortune produces a hero who is the pearl of his time; amidst all these extraordinary men thou shinest like an inestimable diamond in a necklace of precious stones. «The least of thy subjects, in whatever country he may be, is the object of universal homage, and enjoys thy glory, the splendour of which is reflected upon him. « All virtues are united in thee, but the justice which regulates all thy actions would alone suffice to iminortalize thy name. - - - - - - « Perhaps the English will now understand at last that it is folly to oppose themselves to the wisdom of thy designs, and to strive against thy fortune.” • A figure of Liberty, which during the days of Jacobinism was erected at Aix in Provence, was demolished during the night about the time when Buonaparte assumed the empire. Among the squibs to which this gave occasion, was the following question and
TO EDITH MAY SOUTHEY.
I. Edith ! ten years are number'd, since the day, Which ushers in the cheerful month of May, To us by thy dear birth, my daughter dear, Was blest. Thou therefore didst the name partake Of that sweet month, the sweetest of the year; But fitlier was it given thee for the sake Of a good man, thy father's friend sincere, Who at the font made answer in thy name. Thy love and reverence rightly may he claim, For closely hath he been with me allied In friendship's holy bonds, from that first hour When in our youth we met on Tejo’s side;
Bonds which, defying now all Fortune's power, Time hath not loosend, nor will Death divide.
ii. A child more welcome, by indulgent Heaven Never to parents' tears and prayers was given! For scarcely eight months at thy happy birth ilad pass'd, since of thy sister we were leftOur first-born and our only babe, bereft. Too fair a flower was she for this rude earth! The features of her beauteous infancy Ilave faded from me, like a passing cloud, Or like the glories of an evening sky: And seldom hath my tongue pronounced her name Since she was summon'd to a happier sphere. But that dear love, so deeply wounded then, 1 in my soul with silent faith sincere Devoutly cherish till we meet again.
iii. I saw thee first with trembling thankfulness, 0 daughter of my hopes and of my fears! Press'd on thy senseless cheek a troubled kiss, And breathed my blessing over thee with tears. But memory did not long our bliss alloy; For gentle nature, who had given relief, Wean'd with new love the chastend heart from grief, And the sweet season minister'd to joy.
W. How I have doted on thine infant smiles At morning when thine eyes unclos'd on mine; How, as the months in swift succession roll'd, I mark'd thy human faculties unfold, And watch'd the dawning of the light divine; And with what artifice of playful guiles Won from thy lips with still-repeated wiles Kiss after kiss, a reckoning often told,— Something 1 ween thou know'st; for thou hast seen Thy sisters in their turn such fondness prove, And felt how childhood in its winning years The attempered soul to tenderness can move. This thou canst tell; but not the hopes and fears With which a parent's heart doth overflow, The thoughts and cares inwoven with that love, Its nature and its depth, thou dost not, canst not know.
Wi. The years which since thy birth have pass'd away May well to thy young retrospect appear A measureless extent:-like yesterday To me, so soon they fill'd their short career. To thee discourse of reason have they brought, With sense of time and change; and something too Of this precarious state of things have taught, Where Man abideth never in one stay; And of mortality a mournful thought. And I have seen thine eyes suffused in grief, When I have said that with autumnal grey The touch of eld hath mark'd thy father's head; That even the longest day of life is brief, And mine is falling fast into the yellow leaf.
Wii. Thy happy nature from the painful thought With instinct turns, and scarcely canst thou bear
To hear me name the Grave: Thou knowest not
Wiii. Thus wilt thou feel in thy maturer mind: When grief shall be thy portion, thou wilt find Safe consolation in such thoughts as these, L A present refuge in aftliction's hour. And if indulgent Heaven thy lot should bless With all imaginable happiness, Here shalt thou have, my child, beyond all power Of chance, thy holiest, surest, best delight. Take therefore now thy Father's latest lay,+ Perhaps his last;-and treasure in thine heart The feelings that its musing strains convey. A song it is of life's declining day, Yet meet for youth. Wain passions to excite, No strains of morbid sentiment I sing, Nor tell of idle loves with ill-spent breath; A reverent offering to the Grave I bring, And twine a garland for the brow of Death.
One of my friends observed to me in a letter, that many stories which are said to be founded on fact, have in reality been foundered on it. This is the case if there be any gross violation committed, or ignorance betrayed, of historical manners in the prominent parts of a narrative wherein the writer affects to observe them : or when the ground-work is taken from some part of history so popular and well known that any mixture of fiction disturbs the sense of truth. Still more so, if the subject be in itself so momentous that any alloy of invention must of necessity debase it; but most of all in themes drawn from scripture, whether from the more familiar, or the more awful portions; for when what is true is sacred, whatever may be added to it is so surely felt to be false, that it appears profane. Founded on fact the Poem is, which is here committed to the world : but whatever may be its defects, it is liable to none of these objections. The story is so singular, so simple, awl withal so complete, that it must have been injured by any alteration. How faithfully is has been followed, the reader may perceive if he chuses to consult the abridged translation of Dobrizhoffer's History of the Abipones; and for those who may be gratified with what Pinkerton has well called the lively singularity of the old man's Latin, the passage from the original is here subjoined: * Ad Australes fluvii Empalado ripas Hispanorum turma Herbe Paraquaricae conficiendae operain dabat. Deficientibus jam arboribus, e quibus illa folia rescinduntur, exploratores tres emiserant, qui trans illud flumen arbores desideratas investigarent. Forte in tugurium, agrumque frumento Turcico consitum incidere, ex quo hanc sylvam barbarorum contuberniis scatere perperam arguebant. Hec notitia tanto omnes perculit metu, ut suspenso, ad quem conducti fuerant, labore suis aliquamdiu in tuguriis laterent, ut limax intra concham. Diu noctuque hostilis aggressio formidabatur. Ad liberandos se hoc terrore cursor ad S. Joachimi oppidum missus, qui, ut barbaros istic habitantes perquiramus, inventosque ad nostram transferamus coloniam flagitavit. Sine tergiversatione operam addixi mean. Licet trium hebdomadum itinere defunctus Nato servatori sacra die ex Mbaebera domum redierim, S. Joannis apostoli festo iter mox aggressus sum cum quadraginta Indorum meorum comitatu. Fluviis ob continuatum dies complures imbrem turgentibus profectio perardua nobis exstitit. Accepto ex Hispanorum tugurio viarum duce, trajectoque slumine Empalado sylvas omnes ad fluvii Mondag miri ripas usque attentis oculis pervagati, tertio demum die, humano, quod deteximus, vestigio nos ducente aediculam attigimus, ubi mater vetula, cum filio vicesimum, filiague quintum decimum annum agente annis abhinc multis degebat. Quibus in latebris Indi alii versarentur, a me rogata mater, neminem mortalium praeter se, binasque proles, his in sylvis superesse, omnes, qui per hanc viciniam habitaverant, variolarum dira peste dudum extinctos fuisse, respondit. De dicti veritate ancipitem me dum observaret filius: tuto, ait, sidem adhibueris matri mea ista affirmanti : namdue ipsus ego uxorem mihi quaesiturus remotissimas etiam sylvas identidem percursavi, quin tamen vel hominis umbram reperirem uspiam. En! naturae instinctu adolescens barbarus, conjugium cum sorore sibi neutiquam licere, intellexit. Is multis post mensibus meo in oppido, nullos preter se homines illis in sylvis degere, iterum, iterumque ingenue mihi asseveravit. Idem confirmarunt Hispani, a quibus evocatus sum, ultra biennium in conquirenda herba dein per illas sylvas occupati, non mediocri cum quaestu. « Vetulam matrem congruis argumentis hortatus sum ad meum utoppidum, siquidem luberet, commigraret ocyus, se, suosque meliori fortuna illic usuros, pollicitus. Lubenter invitationi mea, obtemperaturam se, respondit; rem unican migrationi suae obstare. Sunt mihi, ait, tres, quos coram vides, apri a prima aetate mansuefacti; nos quoquo euntes caniculi more sequuntur. Hi, si campum aridum videant, vel extra sylvarum umbram a sole ardenti videantur, peribunt confestim, timeo. Hanc solicitudinem, quaeso, animo ejicias tuo, reposui; cordi milli fore chara animalcula, nil dubites. Sole aestuante umbram, ubi ubi demum, captabimus. Neque lacunae, amnes, paludes, ubi refrigerentur tua haec corcula, usquam deerunt. Talibus delinita promissis se nobiscuin ituram, spopondit. Et vero postridie iter ingressi, calendis Januarii incolumes oppidum attigimus, licet per viam binae fulminibus, imbribusque horrendis foetae tempestates nobis incubuerint, actigris rugitu assiduo totam per noctem mimitans nobis iterum, iterumque propinquarit. Hispanos, queis matrem duabus cum prolibus per transennam exhibui, nihildue omnino Indorum sylvestrium in totalate vicinia superesse,' significavi, timoris sui et puduit, et poenituit. Autumaverant equidem sylvas Empalado, et Mondag fluminibus interjectas barbarorum habitationibus, per
inde ut formicis, undique scatere. Jam de forma, habitudine, vivendi ratione, quam in matre, eiusque prolibus observaveram, dicendum obiter aliquid. Ab ineunte aetate in Mondag litoribus, culicum, serpentum, aliorumque animalculorum noxiorum frequentia oppido infectis consedere. Palmarum ramis tuguriolumn definiebatur. Aqua semper lutulenta potum; arborum fructus, alces, damulae, cuniculi, aves variae, frumentum turcicum, radices arboris mandio dapem; tela ex foliis caraquata contexta vestitum, lectumque praebuere. Mel, quod exesis in arboribus passim prostat, inter cupedias numerabatur. Tabacao, quam peti vocant Quaranii, fumum ex arundine, cui ligneum vasculum carabi instar praefixum, diu noctuque hauserat vetula; filius tabace folia in pulverem redacta ore mandere nunquam desiit. Concha ad lapidem exacuta pro cultro utebantur, interdun arundine fissa. Adolescens matris. sororisque nutricius bina ferri frustilla, cultri olim confracti reliquias, pollicem lata, et pollice nil longiora. liguo, ceu manubrio inserta, cera, filoque circumligata cingulo gestabat suo. Hoe instrumento sagittas scitissime elaborare, decipulas e ligno ad capiendas alces facere, arbores, ubi mellis indicium viderat, perfodere, aliaque id genus praestare solebat. Cum argilla, e qua ollae conficiuntur, musquam esset, carnibus assis, non coctis vescebantur per omnem vitam. Herbae Paraquarica, folia non nisi frigida perfudere, cum was, quo aquam recepto more calefacerent, non haberent. Ignem per assrictum celerem duorum lignellorum norunt promptissime elicere, omnium Americanorum more, quod alio loco exponam uberius. Ad restinguendam sitim aqua palustri, semperque, ni ab Austro frigido refrigeretur tantisper, tepida utebantur, cui adferendr, asservandaeque ingentes cucurbitae pro cantharis serviunt. Ut, quam curta illis domi fuerit suppeller, porro videas, de eorum vestitu facienda est mentio. • Juveni lacerna è caraquata filis concinnata escapu
lis ad genua utrinque defluebat; ventre funiculis precincto, e quibus cucurbitam tabacae pulveribus, quos mandit, plenam suspendit. Rete crassioribus e filis matri lectus noctu, interdiu vestis fuit unica. « Puellae pariter breve reticulum, in quo noctibus cubabat, per diem vestitus instar fuerat. Cum nimis diaphana mihi videretur, ut verecundiae consultum irem in Indorum, Hispanorumque praesentia, linteuin gossipinum, quo lotas manus tergimus, illius nuditati tegendae destinavi. Puella linteum, quod illi Indi mei porrexerant, iterum, iterumque complicatum papyri instar, capiti imposuit suo, ceu clypeum contra solis aestus; verum admonita ab Indisillo se involvit. Juveni quoque, ne verecundos offenderet oculos, perizonata linea, quibus in itineribus contra culicum morsus caput obvolveram meum, invito obtrusi. Prius celsissimas arbores simii velocitate scandebat, ut fructus ab apris | tribus devorandos, inde decerperet. Caligis, veluti come pedibus impeditus vix gressum figere potuit. Tanta rerum penuria, frugalitate tanta cum in solitudine victitarent semper, ac anachoretarum veterum rigores, asperitatesque experirentur, sorte sua contentissimos, tranquillo animo, corporeque morborum mescios illos suspexi. Ex quo palam fit, naturam paucis contentam esse; erubescant illi, quibus saturandis, ornandisque totus orbis vix sufficit. Ex ultimis terræ finibus, ex oceani, sylvarum, camporum, montium, tellurisque gremio, ex elementis omnibus, et unde non a vide Petuntur subsidia, quae ad comendum corpus, adoblectaudum