him into a dungeon. He was juridically asked, whether he preferred being thirty-six times flogged through the regiment, or to suffer twelve balls to pass through his brain? In vain did

he assert the freedom of the will, and affirm that he preferred neither the one nor the other; he was obliged to make a choice; and in virtue of that gift of God which is called liberty, he concluded in favour of flogging. He was twice brought to the halberds, where he each time received five hundred lashes, which flayed him from the hips to the nape of the neck, and laid the muscles and nerves all bare.

As they were pro

ceeding to the third course, Candide, unable to endure more, requested for God's sake, that they would have the goodness to blow out his brains. His petition was favourably received; but as he was kneeling blindfold, the king of the Bulgarians happening to come to the parade, enquired concerning his crime. As this king was a man of great genius, he comprehended, from the story told him, that Candide was a young metaphysician, ignorant of the world, and he granted his pardon; a clemency which has been and will be recorded in every newspaper, every history, and every age. A skilful surgeon in three weeks cured Candide by use of the emollients which Dioscorides prescribes. The skin again began to cover his back, and he was able to walk, when

the king of the Bulgarians gave battle to the king

of the Abarians.

Nothing

armies.

Nothing could be so charming, so dazzling, so well disciplined, so well appointed as the two The trumpets, drums, hautboys, fifes, and cannon, formed a concert of such harmony as hell itself never equalled. To begin, the artillery laid low about six thousand men on each ide. The musquetry next dispatched between nine and ten thousand; and the bayonet, in its turn, was the adequate cause of the death of as many more. The whole amount was at least thirty thousand souls. Candide, who treinbled like a philosopher, hid himself as well as he could during this heroic butchery. At length while the two kings ordered Te Deum to be sung in their two camps, he thought proper to depart, and reason elsewhere of causes and effects. He passed over mountains of the dying and the dead. The first village he came to belonged to the Abarians it was reeking with smoke, having been burnt by the Bulgarians, according to the law of nations. Here stood old men, maimed by the enemy, gazing on their murdered wives with their dead children extended on their bleeding bosoms. There lay virgins, giving up the ghost, with their wombs ripped open, after having appeased the natural appetites of certain heroes. Others, half roasted, called aloud for some one to come and dispatch them entirely. Here the brains of men were scattered, here their arms, here their legs, and here their mangled trunks. Candide fled with all his might to another village, that belonged to the Bulgarians,

U

Bulgarians, which the heroes of Abaria had treated in much the same manner. At length, marching over limbs still trembling, hearts still palpitating, and fires yet unextinguished, he luckily escaped from the theatre of war and glory.

VOLTAIRE. Candide, cb. ii. and iii.

WAS it Mackay's regiment, quoth my uncle Toby, where the poor grenadier was so unmer. cifully whipped at Bruges about the ducats?-0 Christ! he was innocent! cried Trim, with a deep sigh And he was whipped, may it please your honour, almost to death's door.-They had better have shot him outright, as he begged, and he had gone directly to heaven, for he was as innocent as your honour.-I thank thee, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby.-I never think of his, continued Trim, and my poor brother Tom's misfortunes, for we were all three school-fellows, but I cry like a coward.-Tears are no proof of cowardice, Trim; I drop them oftimes myself, cried my uncle Toby-I know your honour does, replied Trim, and so am not ashamed of it myself—But to think, may it please your honour, continued Trim, a tear stealing into a corner of his eye as he spoke to think of two virtuous lads, with hearts as warm in their bodies, and aş honest as God could make them-the children of honest people, going forth with gallant spirits to seek their fortunes in the world-and fall into such evils! Poor Tom! to be tortured upon a rack

for

for nothing but marrying a Jew's widow who sold sausages-honest dick Johnson's soul to be scourged out of his body, for the ducats another man put in his knapsack !-O!-these are misfortunes, cried Trim, pulling out his handkerchief, these are misfortunes,may it please your honour, worth lying down and crying over.

FEATURES OF WAR.

IT has for some time been a generally received opinion, that a military man is not to enquire. whether a war be just or unjust; he is to execute his orders. All princes who are disposed to become tyrants must probably approve of this method, and be willing to establish it. But is it not a dangerous one? Since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his army to attack and destroy, not only an unoffending neighbour nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound to obey.

MANY are of opinion, (and there is reason for the opinion) that no two things can be more incongruous and dissimilar than a civil and a military life. A civil habit is considered as improper and cumbersome by him who would be ready for

the

i