sword laid thereon. The General's horse was led in the train, by him that was once his servant.

While my mind recognized the firing of cannon, with the sound of drums and other instruments of music, thought I, where is the man? What part of the procession did he form? What was there in all such honors to compensate the poor man for the loss of his life? Thought I, if the man should look down from Heaven (were it possible) he would despise such honors; was he to look from hell, surely he would despise so mean a price for the worth of his soul. Why honor him, whose body is in one place, and his soul in another?

I considered the multitude that had fallen in the field of battle: some were killed instantly; whilst others were left to linger out a day, a week or a month, and perhaps more time than that, without the least hopes of recovery. There, thought I, is a youth, the son of a tender Father, and the child of an affectionate Mother, who has made him the object of her hope; whilst she has watched. over him in his tender years, her love has been jealous for his best good; but where is he now? Perhaps his body is blown in pieces by the engines of war, his once component parts, or limbs, (which once made up a son, a brother or a friend) can hardly be selected from among the disconnected remains of others who have fallen victims with him

self to the common fate of war! What shall be done to compensate the Father or a Mother? Shall the empty sound of honor supply the place of a child, and compensate a brother or a sister for the loss of so near a friend. Again There is one who is the companion of a poor female, who has given herself to him for life; it is in him she has reposed her all-perhaps, with a number of children, she was dependant on him for her daily bread and for a shelter from the natural inclemencies of life; but where is he now? If his body is not almost obliterated from the face of the earth, perhaps he may not be in the condition of the others, but in a worse situation. Perhaps he is wounded in such a manner as to render him unable to receive the least support from food as his nature requires, so that in addition to his wounds he must still languish out his days by starvation in a common house of misery. Dreadful reflection! -Otherwise he may be denied the covert of a hospitable roof to shelter him from the inclemency of the weather-fallen in the wilderness or on the plain-his wounds aggravated by the chilling blasts of night, or by the incessant sun-beams by day. If he is capable of receiving, he may have no one to administer the least relief by bringing him a morsel of food, or a cup of cool water, which he may eagerly crave in the last expiring moments. He has fallen in a distant country, remote from friends and unpitied by

human eye; and shall the empty sound of honor compensate him in his extreme state of suffering? What shall be a balm for his dreadful sensations which may accompany his tho'ts to a small spot of ground that encircles his wife, his children and his connexions and friends dwelling in a far country? Shall titles and human dignity compensate him for these heart rending sensations, which if possible must be more aggravating to his mind than the wounds which confine him to the fatal spot. How empty must the applause of the world sound to the poor dying man! What shall compensate the companion of his bosom for the loss of her husband? And who shall be to his children in the place of a natural Father in all the misfortunes of life, and protect them in a tender age from the frowns of an inconstant world?

Again there is one fallen who was commander and chief of the carnaged field, but he has fallen! and his blood is mingled with that of his horse, and with the blood of the common soldier. He has led his thousands to combat against them of his fellow men, who never did him nor his party a penny's worth of injury. He has led his thousands to the field of cruelty, where they were dwindled to a fragment in the course of a few minutes; but perhaps he is sharing the fate of those already mentioned, or his soul may be in a world of Spirits. The question is, what must be his reward?

When I meditated on the principle of war, I viewed it as a scene of pride, of wretchedness and misery, as diametrically opposite to every possible good, a waste to morality and virtue, the sacrifice of peace, property, health and life. Some thought I, contend for a defensive war. But, if a defensive war is right, then why blame the savages for their cruelty, for they are only fighting in defence of their country, as they are the rightful owners of all the soil. But shall we not fight for liberty? What way can a man sell his liberty sooner than to engage in a war? What can he possibly lose more than to lose his property his life, his health and friends. Surely if the maxim is true, that self defence is right, then let it commence at home; let every man refuse to bear the sword, and no man will be injured.

The more I thought on the subject, the more sensibly I was convinced that it was wrong, and accordingly I became determined in a short time to leave the army and retire to private life. My mind was so wrought, that I had lost in a little time all the military ambition that I ever possessed. The honors of the world—the very thought of them became a burden to me. I entertained in my mind that the honor of a sceptre would be but misery for me; I viewed myself in the dust and that, as the only place that could afford me any comfort. I was not only convinced of the impropriety of war, but a sense of my

síns lay heavy upon me, the world had lost all its beauty, and I had lost all taste for society. I chose retirement, and frequently walked out of the camp and did not return until nine o'clock at evening.

During my meditations, my mind would call to remembrance my past life which I viewed with regret. Sometimes I concluded that there could be no mercy for such a being as I was. My mind became so impressed that sleep departed from me, and I was left to meditate on my unpleasant situation. As I was at one time several nights without sleep, I thought to gain sleep by the use of opium; and having taken it once to no effect, I doubled the quantity, but to no more purpose than before. I then added one third more to the quantity which I had taken, but it had no more effect upon me, than if I had not taken any thing. I then desisted, fearing that a sudden consequence might ensue. It seemed as if it was impossible for any thing to lock up my thoughts, or shut out the disagreeable sensations of my mind.

It happened as I was sitting in my room one day, I discovered the New Testament (so called,) laying upon the table. I took it up, resolved to read it through; but was opposed by my mate officer, who quartered with me. Firstly he only laughed at me for reading such a book; and when laughing would not persuade, he once knocked it out of my hand. When I saw that he not only disliked, but