toast', he felt himself a little revived', and sent down into the kitchen to let me know', that', in about ten minutes', he should be glad if I would step up stairs'.-I believe', said the landlord', he is going to say his prayers', for there was a book laid upon the chair', by his bed side'; and as I shut the door', I saw his son take up a cushion'.

I thought', said the curate', that you gentlemen of the army', Mr. Trim', never said your prayers at all. I heard the poor gentleman say his prayers last night', said the landlady', very devoutly', and with my own ears', or I could not have believed it'. Are you sure of it'? replied the curate'. A soldier', an’t please your reverence', said I', prays as often' (of his own accord') as a parson'; and when he is fighting for his king', and for his own life', and for his honour too', he has the most reason to pray to God of any one in the whole world'. 'Twas well said of thee', Trim', said my uncle Toby',-but when a soldier', said I', an't please your reverence', has been standing for twelve hours together in the trenches', up to his knees in cold water', or engaged', said I', for months together', in long and dangerous marches': harassed', perhaps', in his rear to-day; harassing others to-morrow';-detached here'; countermanded there';resting this night out upon his arms'-beat up in his sleep the next'-benumbed in his joints'-perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on'-he must say his prayers how and when he can'.—I believe', said I'-for I was piqued', quoth the corporal', for the reputation of the army'-I believe', an't please your reverence', said I', that when a soldier gets time to pray', he prays as heartily as a parson', though not with all his fuss and hypocrisy.-Thou shouldest not have said that', Trim', said my uncle Toby,' for God only knows who is a hypocrite', and who is not'. At the great and general review of us all', corporal', at the day of judgment', (and not till then')-it will be seen who have done their duties in this world', and who have not'; and we shall be advanced', Trim', accordingly'. I hope we shall', said Trim'.-It is in the scripture', said my uncle Toby'; and I will show it thee to-morrow': In the mean time', we may depend' upon it', Trim', for our comfort', said my uncle Toby', that God Almighty is so good and just a governour of the world', that', if we shall have but done our duties in it', it will never be inquired into', whether we have done them in a red coat or a black one':-I hope not', said the corporal'.-But go on', Trim', said my uncle Toby', with the story'.

When I went up', continued the corporal', into the Lieutenant's room', (which I did not do till the expiration of the ten

minutes',) he was lying in his bed', with his head raised upon his hand', his elbow upon the pillow', and a clean white cambrick handkerchief beside it'. The youth was just stooping down to take up the cushion upon which I supposed he had been kneeling', the book was laid upon the bed', and', as he rose', in taking up the cushion with one hand', he reached out his other to take the book away at the same time'. Let it remain there', my dear', said the Lieutenant'.

He did not offer to speak to me', till I had walked up close to his bed-side': If you are Captain Shandy's servant', said he', you must present my thanks to your master', with my little boy's thanks along with them', for his courtesy to me':-if he was of Leven's'-said the Lieutenant'.-I told him your honour was-then', said he', I served three campaigns with him in Flanders', and remember him'; but it is most likely', as I had not the honour of any acquaintance with him', that he knows nothing of me'. You will tell him', however', that the person his good nature has laid under obligations to him', is one Le Fever', a Lieutenant in Angus's'-but he knows me not' -said he a second time', musing':-possibly he may my story' -added he'—pray tell the Captain', I was the Ensign at Breda', whose wife was most unfortunately killed with a musketshot', as she lay in my arms in my tent'.-I remember the story', an't please your honour', said I', very well'. Do you so'? said he', wiping his eyes with his handkerchief'-then well may I.-In saying this', he drew a little ring out of his bosom', which seemed tied with a black riband about his neck', and kissed it twice'.-Here', Billy', said he'-the boy flew across the room to the bed-side', and falling down upon his knee', took the ring in his hand', and kissed it too', then kissed his father', and sat down upon the bed and wept.

I wish', said my uncle Toby', with a deep sigh'-I wish', Trim',... I was asleep'.

Your honour', replied the corporal', is too much concerned': Shall I pour your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe'? Do', Trim', said my uncle Toby'.

I remember', said my uncle Toby', sighing again', the story of the ensign and his wife', and particularly well', that he', as well as she', upon some account or other', (I forget what',) was universally pitied by the whole regiment'; but finish the story' 'Tis finished already', said the corporal', for I could stay no longer', so I wished his honour a good night'. Young Le Fever rose from off the bed', and saw me to the bottom of the stairs'; and as we went down together', told me they had come from

Ireland', and were on their route to join the regiment in Flanders'. But', alas'! said the corporal', the Lieutenant's last day's march is over'. Then what is to become of his poor boy'? uncle Toby'.

cried my

Thou hast left this matter short', said my uncle Toby to the corporal', as he was putting him to bed', and I will tell thee in whât', Trim'. In the first place', when thou madest an offer of my services to Le Fever', as sickness and travelling are both expensive', and thou knewest he was but a poor Lieutenant', with a son to subsist', as well as himself', out of his pay', that thou didst not make an offer to him of my purse'; because', had he stood in need', thou knowest', Trim', he had been as welcome to it as myself'. Your honour knows', said the corporal', I had no orders'. True', quoth my uncle Toby'; thou didst very right', Trim', as a sôLDIER', but', certainly', very wrong', as a MAN'.

In the second place', for which', indeed', thou hast the same excuse', continued my uncle Toby', when thou offeredst him whatever was in my house', thou shouldst have offered him my house tôô'. A sick brother officer'.. should have the best quarters', Trim'; and if we had him with us', we could tend and look to him'. Thou art an excellent nurse thyself', Trim'; and what with thy care of him', and the old woman's', and his boy's', and mine together', we might recruit him again at once, and set him upon his legs'.

In a fortnight or three weeks', added my uncle Toby', smiling', he might march'. He will never march', an't please your honour', in this world', said the corporal'. He will march', said my uncle Toby', rising up from the side of the bed', with one shoe off". An't please your honour', said the corporal', he will never march'.. but to his grâve'. He SHALL march', cried my uncle Toby', marching the foot which had a shoe on', though without advancing an inch': he shall march to his regiment'. He cannot stand it', said the corporal'. He shall be supported', said my uncle Toby'. He'll drop at last', said the corporal', and what will become of his boy? He shall Nor drop', said my uncle Toby', firmly'. A well o'day'! do what we can for him', said Trim', maintaining his point': the poor soul will die'. He shall NOT die', by H-n', cried my uncle Toby'.

The Accusing Spirit', which flew up to Heaven's chancery with the oath', blushed as he gave it in'; and the Recording Angel', as he wrote it down', dropped a tear upon the word', and blotted it out forever'.

My uncle Toby went to his bureau', put his purse into his pocket', and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician', he went to bed and fell asleep'.

The sun looked bright the morning after', to every eye in the village but Le Fever's and his afflicted son's'; the hand of death pressed heavy upon his eyelids', and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle', when my uncle Toby', who had got up an hour before his wonted time', entered the Lieutenant's room', and', without preface or apology', sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side'; and independent of all modes and customs', opened the curtain', in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it', and asked him how he did-how he had rested in the night'-what was his complaint-where was his pain-and what he could do to help him? And without giving him time to answer any one of these inquiries', went on and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting for him', with the corporal', the night before'.

You shall go home directly', Le Fever', said my uncle Toby', to my house-and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter' and we'll have an apothecary'-and the corporal shall be your nurse', and I'll be your servant', Le Fever'.

There was a frankness in my uncle Toby'-not the effect of familiarity', but the cause of it'—which let you at once into his soul', and showed you the goodness of his nature': to this', there was something in his looks', and voice', and manner', superadded', which always beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him'; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father', the son had insensibly pressed up close to his knees', and had taken hold of the breast of his coat', and was pulling it towards him'. The blood and spirit of Le Fever', which were waxing cold and slow within him', and were retreating to their last citadel', the heart', rallied back'-the film forsook his eyes for a moment'he looked up wistfully in my uncle Toby's face'-then cast a look upon his boy'.

Nature instantly ebbed again—the film returned to its place' -the pulse fluttered'-stopped-went on'-throbbed'-stopped

again-moved'-stopped-shall I go on'?—No'.

29*

SECTION VI.

Advantages of a Civilized, over a Savage, State.-SPURZHEIM.

It has been asked', whether intelligence or ignorance is the more conducive to happiness. A few observations will prove', that education is highly calculated to promote civilization'; and', also', where well conducted', to improve both the body and the mind'. What a difference do we perceive in the conduct of various nations', by observing them through the different periods of their improvement'! The history of every nation in its barbarous state', is sullied with accounts of assassinations', parricides', incest', and violation of the most sacred oaths. The selfish passions appear then to wield an overwhelming power'; and all enjoyments spring from the gratification of the lower propensities'.

In periods of ignorance', too', every nation confines moral virtue to itself', and considers the rest of mankind as destined to be its prey'. Legislation, corresponding with the national character', is sanguinary, and capital punishment', frequent, Nay, it falls not on criminals alone', but', also', on their relatives', and on whole districts'. Their religion is founded in terrour'; their gods are endowed with all the lower feelings and affections, such as selfishness', jealousy', anger', and fondness of extravagant actions and expiatory sacrifices'. If they hope for immortality', the scenes of happiness which they expect', are conformable to their actual feelings'; such as triumphing over their enemies', and the gratification of low passions and sensual pleasures. Their leading tendency of mind', is atrocity; and most of their actions', are but a series of horrid crimes'.

I doubt whether they who consider the savage state so worthy of commendation', would be disposed to give up the comforts of civilization', and be satisfied with the food, clothing', habitations', and accommodations of barbarians`;—whether they would prefer nuts', acorns', roots, insects', and other loathsome animals', to the preparations of a skilful cookery';whether they would be better pleased with clothes made of the skins of animals', of leaves', or of grass', than with woollen', cotton', linen', or silk habiliments';-whether they would like to exchange our comfortable rooms for a hollow tree', the cavity of a rock', a den under ground', or a hut of reeds', or of turf and branches of trees';-whether', in short', they would seriously think the rough attempts of savages at painting and sculpture', equal to the statues of Phidias', and the paintings of Raphael'.