united so much intelligence and sweetness of disposition, and loveliness of manners and of person. Her charm was that of blended dignity and gentleness. Not long after the commencement of my sister's intimacy with this family, Mira exhibited symptoms of the malady of which, in the course of a few years, herself and her sisters, were the victims; she died at Exeter, after spending two or three years in frequent, but hopeless changes of scene, among her friends in Ireland and the west of England. Bythia, the second daughter, though less lovely in person, and less gentle in disposition than her elder sister, endeared herself to her friends by the affectionate warmth and candour of her disposition. The progress of her fatal illness was more rapid than in the case of her sister:--she died in Dublin in the preceding year; where also Eliza, her younger sister, died soon after. Letitia--Jane's friend, was little inferior, either in intelligence or in loveliness, to Mira. Many of the letters that passed between Jane and Letitia are before me, and although there is not a little of girlish romance in them, they afford proofs enough of great energy of character on the one part, and of much warmth and tenderness of feeling, and originally of thought on the other.

Letitia quickly followed her sister to the grave. She also had been sent, more than once, to the West of England; and died on her way thither, at Basingstoke, Dec. 12, 1806. The death of Letitia S. under the peculiar circumstances which attended it, made a deep impression upon the mind of her friend; and is indeed so fraught with instruction that it may well claim a page in this memoir. Should the following brief narrative meet the eye of the only surviving member of the family, I doubt not he would willingly consent to its being given to the reader.

"The mild and gentle spirit of their mother did not supply to these young women the loss they had sustained in the death of their father. They soon learned to pay too little deference to her wishes and opinions; and finding herself unable, by gentle measures, to control the high spirits of her daughters, she left them, with a faint show of opposition, to follow their own tastes. Her inefficient influence seemed rather to accelerate than retard their abandonment of all the principles--or prejudices, as they were fondly called, of their education. And so eager were they in the work of thinking for themselves,' that a very short time sufficed to establish them in a resolute contempt of every principle they had received from their parents. This tendency of their minds to discard whatever they had been taught in matters of belief, was unhappily aggravated by their witnessing a general laxity of manners, and some flagrant

NEW SERIES, No. 13.

scandals among the religionists whose creed was already the object of their scorn. And such offences are sure to produce the utmost mischief in the minds of young persons whose education, while it has elevated their notions of the requirements of christianity, has failed to affect themselves with the spirit of piety.

"In addition to these unfavourable circumstances on the one side, these young ladies were exposed, on the other, to the most seductive influence from the connections they had lately formed at a distance from home. Many of their new friends were persons at once intelligent, refined in their manners, amiable in their tempers, and perfectly versed in all the specious glozings of Socinianism. And Socinianism, only twenty years ago, was much more specious than it is at present. For within this period the course of controversy has deprived its professors of an advantage--so important to the success of infidel insinuations-that of having itself no defined or avowed principles to defend.

"In the society of persons of this class these intelligent young women quickly imbibed the spirit, and learned the language of universal disbelief; and whatever might have been their early devotional feelings, they became confessedly irreligious in their tastes and habits. This change was but little obvious in the placid temper of Mira. She was, indeed, fascinated with the showy simplicity of this masked deism, and perplexed by its sophistries; but she thought and felt too much to be ever perfectly satisfied with the opinions she had adopted :--her mind had rather been entangled than captivated. During her illness she seemed anxious, in some degree, to retrace her steps; and in the last days of her life she earnestly recommended her sisters to addict themselves, with greater seriousness and humility, to the reading of the Scriptures; and died imploring, with mournful indecision, to be saved in God's own way.'

"Letitia was not at all less forward than her sisters, to renounce what she termed--the errors of her education :'-she was even more determined and dogmatical than some of them in her new professions. This difference of opinion, along with other circumstances, had lessened the intimacy between Letitia and Jane : they maintained, however, to the last, a friendly correspondence; though the subject of religion was, by the desire of the former, banished from their letters.

"After many changes of place, she once more left Colchester, accompanied by her mother, on her way to Devonshire; but was soon compelled to make her last home at an inn on the road; where she lingered more than three months. The disappointment of her strong wish to reach

F

Exeter, awakened her to the knowledge of her immediate danger; and this apprehension was soon succeeded by all the terrors of an affrighted conscience. The conviction of being an offender against the Divine Law, and exposed, without shelter, to its sanctions, took such full possession of her spirit that, for a length of time, she rejected all consolation: and endured an agony of fear, in expectation of dying without the hope of the Gospel. At length, however, her mind admitted freely and joyfully that only hope set before us; and she fully and explicitly renounced the illusions by which she had been betrayed; declaring them to be utterly insufficient to satisfy an awakened conscience, in the prospect of standing before the bar of the Supreme Judge. She lived long enough to display many of the effects of this happy change:--the whole temper of her mind seemed renovated; she became patient, thankful, affectionate, and humble; and triumphed in the profession of her hope:- My hope,' she said, is in Christ -in Christ crucified :-

6

and I would not give up that hope, for all the world.'"--pp. 27--34.

(To be continued.)

Observations on the Causes and Evils of War; its Unlawfulness; and the Means and Certainty of its Extinction: in a series of Letters addressed to a Friend. By Thomas Thrush, late Captain in the Royal Navy; intended as an Apology for withdrawing himself from the Naval Service, 8vo. Wightman, Fleet Street. THIS pamphlet is the first part of a series of letters on War, by a Captain in the Navy, who addressed a communication to the King, on resigning his commission in his Majesty's service, on the alleged ground of the unlawfulness of war. We should be happy to find this doctrine becoming popular in the ear of princes; we are assured, at all events, the time will arrive, when, through the triumph of Christianity, which is the reign of peace, the nations "shall learn war no more; but, on the contrary, shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks." We do not here arbitrate on the decision to which Captain Thrush

came with respect to his own conduct; nor shall we enter on that field of discussion, which this subject might throw open. But we heartily wish success to every effort, which has for its object the restraint and ultimate extinction of war-the direst scourge which the depravity of man has entailed on his species. This will no doubt take place, like the accomplishment of most other prophetic events, by direct human instrumentality; and we hail the appearance of the spirit of peace, which has been manifested in several tracts that have been published, both in England and America, tending to represent war in its proper colours, and ultimately, though we fear not very speedily, to promote the pacification of the world. On this ground' we recommend the pamphlet before us to the public perusal.

The letters contained in this

first part are six in number, and are the following, Introductory; on the alleged Causes of War; on its real Causes; on its Physical Evils ; on its Moral Evils, in two letters.

In the letter on the real causes of war, the author regards the

present systems of classical education," as having a foremost place. There can be little doubt, in unprejudiced minds, that the unqualified admiration which is generally felt by youth, of the heroic qualities, as exhibited in the productions of classical antiquity, have much tended to perpetuate the warlike spirit from generation to generation. It can scarcely be denied, that the direction which is given to these qualities, in those writings, is, in the majority of instances, diametrically opposed to the meek, resigned, and benevolent spirit of Christianity. We think, however, that without losing the advantages of the system of classical education, a reform in the mode of conducting it would tend indefinitely to

polite literature, Christianity may not unaptly be compared to the seed which fell among thorns. As soon as a young man enters one of our classical or fighting seminaries, the small stock of Christian knowledge he carries there, is liable to be choked by classical weeds, and the Christian character is frequently lost in the heroic.

"When it is considered that most of the great statesmen of Europe, during many ages, have been brought up in classical and fighting seminaries; and that a similar education is indispensably necessary for a prince or a legislator, and that many of these have finished their education in camps and fleets, we need no longer wonder at the sanguinary and anti-christian

criminal codes established in most nations; nor can we be surprised at the anomaly of our own code, which disqualifies those who slaughter animals, from sitting as jurors, while it permits those who slaughter men, to sit as legislators. When we further reflect that a large portion of the bishops and superior clergy, have been educated in the same way, and taught from early youth to venerate the lex talionis, rather than the forgiving meekness of Jesus; we need not wonder that they have never advocated the unpopular and anti-classical doctrine of non-resistance, and patient endurance of evils, or that some of them have been the open and avowed advocates of war. We may rather be astonished that they have entertained any respect at all for the Christian code.

"If we bring the matter home to our own country, and examine the orations that are held in the highest estimation, whether in the senate or at the bar, the standard of their excellence is their conformity to classical models. To be admired, an orator must speak and think classically, and should any expression escape him, where scriptural phrases or ideas are introduced, it is considered as an indelible mark of bad taste. I admit that

we have many shining examples of individuals, uniting the meek and pacific spirit of Christianity, with the highest classical attainments; but may we not regard these as exceptions to a very general rule? And can we suppose it probable, that where where our ideas, and our modes of expressing them, are borrowed from Greece or Rome, our minds will not very generally correspond to these ideas? Can we expect that our heads will be Roman, and our hearts Christian? Can we expect that the professed admirers of the heroes of Homer, will be the sincere and humble followers of Jesus? Then may we expect that young men educated in fighting and classical seminaries, will practise forgiveness of insults and injuries.

"The early delusions and anti-chris

tian principles imbibed at these public seminaries, so far from being corrected, or dispelled by reading or adult education, appear to be increased at every stage of knowledge. The historian, the poet, the dramatist, the novelist, as well as the public orator, the statesman, and even the grave divine, alike lead men away from the paths of peace. It is true they generally lament, and often with much eloquence, the dire calamities that war inflicts; but they, for the most part, speak of the men through whose agency these evils are perpetrated, as heroes and patriots."-pp. 25-29.

Some of our readers will think the following passage in the letter, on the real causes of war, somewhat of a curiosity.

"Some of the popular doctrines of religion, particularly those of Calvin, appear to have a tendency to check those feelings of universal philanthropy which Christianity inculcates. If men entertain the belief that a part of their fellowcreatures are labouring under the displeasure of God, and regard them as his enemies, they consider them as the enemies of the elect, or of themselves. Those who contemplate God as wanting in mercy, which Calvinism, however modified, implies, are not likely to practice universal benevolence."-pp. 37, 38.

We

We are not prepared to subscribe to "all and every thing," either in the institutions of Calvin, or "in the Book of Common Prayer." We are disciples of Horace, in reference to human authorities, and on this subject we should choose our motto to be nullius addictus, etc. must confess we felt inclined to smile in our sleeve, at the idea that Calvinism, "however modified," is not likely to lead to benevolence. We were simple enough to imagine that genuine Christians, whether nominally Calvinists or Arminians, must be essentially the same, and that whatever speculative differences may exist between them, their religious feelings and practice must be of one general complexion. It appears that professed Calvinism, in some of its modifications at least, is capable of exciting its adherents to high enterprises of benevolence-be wit

ness Otaheite, Africa, and Hindostan; and on the other hand professed Arminianism in some, at least, of its modifications, is capable of presenting the aspect of a devout and humble Christian, who ascribes his salvation entirely and only to God, as the author of all spiritual human excellence. If a belief be entertained that the

Scriptures are the word of God; and if the same person feel convinced that they reveal at once the doctrine that it is God that "maketh to differ," and the duty of cherishing "universal benevolence," we see no barrier in the way to the practice of the latter. This, however, we suppose, would, by way of distinction, be called Calvinism in some of its modifications. We have met with many such Calvinists, and have not perceived them to be at all fettered in their ideas of man's responsibility, which they appeared most completely to acknowledge, and practically to feel; -and this, we were led to conceive, arose partly from their having sufficient firmness of mind not to allow what they do know to be disturbed by what they do not know; or, in other words, not to suffer plainly revealed duties to be infringed on by their speculations on what may be denominated "secret things," which, though equally revealed, as to their actual existence, are in other respects unknown.

"The most heart-rending scene which my imagination had ever conceived, far

surpassing the most afflicting accounts in

ancient or modern history, now presented itself before our eyes. A great part of the population of Moscow, frightened at our arrival, had concealed themselves in cellars, or secret recesses of their houses. As the fire spread around, we saw them rushing in despair from their various asylums. They uttered no imprecations, they breathed no complaints, but carrying with them their most precious effects, fled before the flames. Others of greater sensibility, and actuated by the genuine feelings of nature, saved only their children, who old people, borne down with grief rather were clasped closely in their arms. Many

than by age, had not sufficient strength to follow their families, and expired near the houses in which they were born.

"Desirous of terminating the recital of this horrid catastrophe, for which history wants expressions, and poetry has no colours, I shall pass over in silence many circumstances revolting to humanity, and merely describe the dreadful confusion which arose in our army, when the fire had reached every part of Moscow, and the whole city was become one immense

flame.

"A long row of carriages was perceived through the thick smoke, loaded with

booty. Being too heavily laden for the exhausted cattle to drag them along, they were obliged to halt at every step, when we heard the execrations of the drivers, who terrified at the surrounding flames, endeavoured to push forward, with dreadful outcries. The soldiers were still armed, diligently employed in forcing open every door. They seemed to fear lest they should leave any house untouched. In spite of the extreme peril which threatened them, the love of plunder induced our soldiers to brave every danger. Stimulated by an irresistible desire of pillage, they precipitated themselves into the flames. They waded in blood, treading upon the dead bodies without remorse, whilst the ruins of the houses, mixed with burning coals, fell thick on their murderous

hands.

The nearer we approached the Majaisk, the more desolate the country appeared. But most horrible was the multitude of dead bodies which, deprived of