ering with cold, they gave no assistance, neither shewed any signs of compassion to those who, sinking from weakness, expired around them."

"Many of these miserable creatures, dying from exhaustion, struggled hard in the agonies of death. Some of them in the most affecting manner bade adieu to their brethren and companions in arms; others with their last sigh pronounced the name of their mother, and of the country which gave them birth. The rigour of the cold benumbed their stiffened limbs, and soon reached their vitals. Stretched on the road, we could only see the heaps of snow that covered them, and that formed undulations in our route like those in a grave-yard. Flocks of ravens, abandoning the plains to take shelter in the neighboring woods, croaked ominously as they flew over our heads; and troops of dogs, which had followed us from Moscow, and lived solely on our bloody remains, howled around us, as if desirous of hastening the moment when we were to become their prey."

At the retreat of the French from Liadoui in Lithuania, the town, as seems to have been the common practice in this savage war, was set on fire. "Amongst the burning houses were three large barns filled with poor soldiers, chiefly wounded. They could not escape from two of these, without passing through the one in front, which was on fire; the most active saved themselves by leaping out of the windows, but all those who were sick or crippled, not having strength to move, saw the flames advancing rapidly to devour them. Touched by their shrieks, some, who were least hardened, endeavored in vain to save them: we could only see them half buried under the burning rafters. Through whirlwinds of smoke, they entreated their comrades to shorten their sufferings by depriving them of life, and from motives of humanity, we thought it our duty to comply with their

wishes. As there were some who, notwithstanding, still survived, we heard them with feeble voices crying, 'Fire on us! fire on us! at the head! at the head! do not miss!' These heart-rending cries did not cease till the whole were consumed.”

Before the French had completed the passage of the river Berezina, the Russians made a furious attack upon their rear-guard. "In the heat of the engagement many balls fell on the miserable crowd, that for three days had been pressing round the bridge, and even some shells burst in the midst of them. Terror and despair then took possession of every heart anxious for self-preservation; women and children, who had escaped so many disasters, seemed to have been preserved to experience a death still more deplorable. Leaving their carriages, they ran to embrace the knees of the first person they met, and implored him with tears to take them to the other side. The sick and wounded, seated on the trunk of a tree, or supported on crutches, looked eagerly for some friend that could assist them; but their cries were lost in the air, every one thought only of his own safety."

"On seeing the enemy, those who had not crossed, mingling with the Poles, rushed towards the bridge; artillery, baggage, cavalry, and infantry, all endeavored to pass first. The strong threw into the water the weak, who impeded their advance, and trampled under foot the sick and wounded whom they found in their way. Many hundreds were crushed under the wheels of the artillery: others, who had hoped to save themselves by swimming, were frozen in the river, or perished by slipping from the ice. Thousands and thousands of hopeless victims, notwithstanding these sorrowful examples, threw themselves into the Berezina, where they nearly all perished in convulsions of grief and despair.

"The division of Girard succeeded by force of arms in overcoming all the obstacles that retarded their march, and, scaling the mountain of dead bodies that obstructed the road, gained the opposite shore, where the Russians would soon have followed them if they had not immediately set fire to the bridge.

"Many of those, who were left on the other bank with the prospect of the most horrible death, attempted to cross the bridge through the flames, but midway they threw themselves into the river to avoid being burnt. At length, the Russians having made themeslves masters of the field of battle, our troops retired; the passage of the river ceased, and the most tremendous uproar was succeeded by a death-like silence."

Let those, who have been accustomed to merge the sufferings of individuals in those vague and indefinite views, which we take of suffering when contemplated in the mass, notice the following passage.-"The road was covered with soldiers, who no longer retained the human form, and whom the enemy disdained to take prisoners. Every day furnished scenes too painful to relate. Some had lost their hearing, others their speech, and many, by excessive cold and hunger, were reduced to such a state of stupid phrenzy, that they roasted the dead bodies for food, and even gnawed their own hands and arms. Some, who were too weak to lift a piece of wood, or to roll a stone towards the fire, sat down upon their dead companions, and with an unmoved countenance, gazed upon the burning logs. When they were consumed, these livid spectres, unable to get up, fell by those on whom they had been seated. Many, in a state of mental alienation, in order to warm themselves, plunged their bare feet into the fire; some, with a convulsive laugh, threw themselves into the flames, and uttering shocking cries, perished in the most horrible

contortions; others, in a state of equal madness, followed their example, and shared the same fate!"

But some will say perhaps, that these battles and this retreat were extraordinary, out of the common course, something unheard of before; and that they give an exaggerated and erroneous idea of the miseries attendant upon war. But so far as we are able to learn, this suggestion does not appear to be sustained by the facts of history. From the earliest periods of the human race there have been wars and series of wars, continued for years and almost for generations, that have been marked from beginning to end with inexpressible sufferings and with the most dreadful atrocities; such as the second Punic war, the war which terminated in the destruction of Jerusalem, the recent war of the Greek Revolution, the wars civil and foreign of the French Revolution, the recent wars in Spanish South America, some of the wars between Russia and Turkey and Russia and Poland, the early Revolutionary wars of the Dutch Republic, the wars of the invasion of Spain by Bonaparte, the so called Thirty Year's War, which involved almost all Europe, and was signalized by the death of Gustavus Adolphus. In the dreadful war last mentioned, the city of Magdeburg in Prussia was taken by assault by the imperial commander, Count de Tilly. And here are some of the results. "Before noon, all the works were carried, and the town was in the hands of the enemy. Two gates were now opened by the besiegers for the entrance of the army, and Tilly marched part of his infantry into the town. He immediately occupied the principal streets, and, with pointed cannon, drove the citizens into their dwellings, there to await their destiny. They were not long held in suspense; a word from Tilly decided the fate of Magdeburg.

"Even a more humane general would have vainly

attempted to restrain such soldiers; but Tilly never once made the attempt. The silence of their general left the soldiery masters of the lives of the citizens, and they broke, without restraint, into the houses to gratify every brutal appetite. The prayers of innocence excited some compassion in the hearts of the Germans, but none in the rude breasts of Pappenheim's Walloons. Scarcely had the massacre commenced, when the other gates were thrown open, and the cavalry, with the fearful hordes of the Croats, poured in upon the devoted town.

"And now began a scene of carnage, which history has no language, poetry no pencil to pourtray. Neither the innocence of childhood, nor the helplessness of old age; neither youth, sex, rank, nor beauty, could disarm the fury of the conquerors. Wives were dishonored in the arms of their husbands, daughters at the feet of their parents; and the defenceless sex exposed to the double sacrifice of virtue and life. No condition, however obscure, or however sacred, could afford protection from the rapacity of the enemy. Fifty-three women were found beheaded in a single church. The Croats amused themselves with throwing children into the flames; Pappenheim's Walloons with stabbing infants at their mothers' breast. Some officers of the League, horror struck at this dreadful scene, ventured to remind Tilly that he had it in his power to stop the carnage. 'Return in an hour,' was his answer, and I shall see what is to be done; the soldier must have some recompense for his danger and toils.' These horrors lasted without abatement, till at last the smoke and flames stopped the course of the plunderers. To increase the confusion, and break the resistance of the inhabitants, the Imperialists had, in the commencement of the assault, fired the town in several places. A tempest now arose, which spread the flames with frightful rapidity through