LOSSES OF PRUSSIA. BY THE PEACE OF TILSIT, SIGNED ON THE 9TH OF JUNE, 1807, THE KING OF PRUSSIA IS OBLIGED Note 2. During the time of the 30 years war, the whole Army of the House of Brandenburg consisted of no more than 2000 men; and Gustavus Adolphus, with only 2000 men, forced the Elector George Wilhelm to fight for the Liberty of Germany. Note 3. In the seven years war, Frederick the Great gloriously resisted the united efforts of France, Austria, Russia, &c. and raised Prussia to the highest pitch of glory,-to the very first leading Power in Europe. Note 4. At the beginning of the present century Frederick Wilhelm, at the head of an army of upwards of 250,000 men, ranked with the very first Powers of Europe; in the year 1807, in the short space of seven months, this very army is entirely annihilated, and the Kingdom of Pressia degraded to the lowest state of political insignificancy. Note 5. Frederick the Great, on his accession, found a treasure of eight million 700,000 dollars; which he increased to the astonishing sum of sixty millions. Note 6. After the Peace of Tilsit, the remaining part of the dilapidated Prussian Monarchy is left in a most ruinous condition, ready to sink under a load of enormous debts, and reduced to poverty and general distress. After a second examination of the several Articles of the Peace at Tilsit, the Author of this Survey is sensible of having committed an error: the greatest part of West Prussia and the Net District, remains a Prussian Province; of course it is to be deducted again from the sum total of the loss at the bottom of this table. The exact area cannot accurately be ascertained at present. THE CRIMINAL. [Concluded from Puge 71.] THE deeds of this man in a short time spread mankind and turned its terrible edge against him. to curse but himself alone. Vice had accomplished its lesson on the unhappy wretch; his sound natural judgment at last triumphed over the sad deception. Now he felt how low he was fallen; a more settled melancholy succeeded in the place of wild despair. He wished with tears to recal the past, for he was now positive, that he would lead quite a different life. He began to hope that he might still be honest, because he felt he could be so. At the highest pitch of his iniquity he was perhaps nearer the good, than he was before his first transgression. alarm through the whole province. The high-self. He forgave all nature, and found nobody ways were rendered unsafe; frequent house. breaking by night distressed the citizen; the name of the landlord of the sun became the terror of the country people; justice made strict search for him, and set a reward on his head. He was fortunate enough to frustrate every attempt on his liberty, and sufficiently artful to avail himself of the fears of 'he superstitious peasant for his own safety. His associats had spread a rumour, that he was a sorcerer, and had made a league with the devil. The district in which he played his part, was still less then, than at the present day, to be accounted among the civilized in Germany. The report was credited, and his person protected. Nobody seemed inclined to engage with the dangerous fellow whom the devil patronized. He had now followed this unhappy line of life a year, when it began to grow insupportable to him. The band, at whose head he had placed himself, had not fulfilled his brilliant expectation. Overpowered with wine, he had then suffered himself to be won by a dazzling outside, now he discovered with horror how abominably he had been deceived. Hunger and want succeeded in the place of that superfluity with which they had inveigled him; very often was he compelled to risk his own life for a single meal, and even that was barely sufficient to keep soul and body together. The shadow of that brotherly harmony vanished. Envy, suspicion, and jealousy kept this infernal band in perpetual dissention. Justice had offered a reward to any one, who would deliver him up alive, and should he be an accomplice, a solemn promise of pardon besides a powerful inducement for the dregs of mankind. The integrity of those who had betrayed both God and man was but a poor security for his life. Sleep from this moment fled his eye-lids; constant fear of death preyed upon his rest; the ghastly spectre of suspicion haunted him wherever he fied; tortured him, when awake; couched on his pillow, when he went to sleep; and terrified him in horrid dreams. His conscience, which long had been dumb, at the same time regained the power of speech, and the canker-worm of repentance, which had been asleep, awoke at this general storin in his breast. All his hatred feil now from Just about this time the seven years war broke out, and the recruiting was carried on with great spirit. From this circumstance the unhappy wretch entertained hopes, and wrote a letter to his sovereign, an extract of which I shall here insert. "If your princely favour does not shrink back at the idea of descending to me, if offenders of my nation do not lie beyond the limits of your mercy, grant me, I beseech you, most gracious sovereign, a hearing. I am a murderer and a thief. The law has condemned me to death, justice pursues me; and I offer to present myself voluntarily, but at the same time I lay before you a strange supplication. I detest life, and fear not to die, but awful to me are the thoughts of death without having lived. I would wish to live, in order to compensate for a part of the past; I would wish to live, in order to conciliate myself with the state, which I have injured. My execution will prove an example for the world, but no recompense for my crimes. I have an abhorrence for vice, and feel an ardent desire for virtue. I have displayed abilities, which have rendered me the terror of my country, I hope I still retain some to be useful to it. "I am conscious that I require what unprecedented. My life is forfeited, it does not become me to enter on stipulations with justice, But I do not appear before you in fetters and chains, still I am free-and my fear has the smallest share in my prayer. "It is mercy for which I entreat you. A claim on justice, if I even had one, I would not persume to adduce. However, I may still be allow ed to remind my judges of one circumstance. The era of my crimes commences with the sentence which for ever deprived me of honour. Had equity been then less denied me, I should now perhaps have no need of mercy. "Let mercy take place of law, my sovereign. It is in your gracious power to dispense with the laws in my behalf; confer upon me my life. It shall from the present moment be devoted to your service. If you can, let me know your inost gracious will from the public papers, and I shall on your princely word present myself in the capital. If you have determined oth rwise with me, let justice do its duty, I must do mine." This petition remained unanswered, as like wise a second and a third, in which the supplicant begged for the place of a dragoon in the prince's service. His hope of a pardon totally extinguished, he formed therefore the resolution of flying out of the country, and of dying as a gallant soldier in the service of the king of Prussia of news, and was particularly fond of talking Meanwhile the landlord stopped before the justices; the ludicrous spectacle had attracted the notice of the mob, and assembled them in flocks about him A general murmur arises, they point alternately at the steed and rider, till at last the wantonness of the people ended in downright riot. The horse at which every one pointed, unfortunately happened to be a stolen one; he imagined that the horse had been advertised and was known. The unexpected hospitality of the justice confirms him in his suspicions. Now he is fully persuaded that the imposture of his passport is detected, and that the invitation is only a snare to catch him alive and without resis'ance A bad conscience makes him a blockhead; he puts spurs to his horse, and gallops off without returning an answer. This sudden flight is the signal for pursuit. A general hue and cry is raised, "stop thief!" and every one fled after him. The life and de th of the rider is at stake, he has already got the start of his pursuers, they pant breathless after him, he is near his delivery- --but a heavy hand presses invisibly against him, the hour of his fate is ran, the inexorable Nemesis detains her debtor. The street to which he had trusted himself has no outlet; he is obliged to turn upon his pur suers. He escaped happily from his band, and began his journey. The way led him through a small country town, where he meant to pass the night. || A short time before, stricter mandates had been issued throughout the whole country for the vigorous examination of travellers, because the sovereign, prince of the empire, had taken part in the war. Such orders had also been enjoined to the examiner of this town, who was sitting on a bench before the gate as the landlord of the Sun rode up to it. The equipage of this man exhibited something comic, and at the same time frightfu, and wid. The Rosinante on which he rude, and the burlesque choice of his garments, where his tas'e had probably been less consulted than the chronology of his robberies, made a The noise of this affair, in the mean time, had wonderful contrast with a face on which was dis- put the whole town in commotion, crowds gather played so many violent affections, like mangled on crowds, every street is barricadoed, a host of carcases on a field of battle. The examiner foes advanc› against him. He takes out a pistol, stopped short at the sight of this strange wanderer. the populace fall back; he determines to open He had grown gray at the gate, and a forty years himself a way by force through the crowd. "I'll experience had rendered him an infallible physi-blow out that man's brains," cries he, "who is ognomist for all vagabonds. The keen eye of this scrutinizing interrogator did not even here mistake his man. He immediately shut the gate, and laying hold of the reins, demanded of the rider his passport. Wolf was prepared for something of this kind, and carried really a passport with him, which he had lately taken from a merchant, whom he had robbed. But this single testimony was not sufficient to remove suspicions confirmed by a forty years experience, or to provoke the oracle at the gate to a revocation. The examiner credited his own eyes more than this paper, and Wolf was compelled to follow him to the justice. The justice of the place examined the pas-port and declared it to be good. He was a great lover fool-hardy enough to stop me." Fear commands a general pause; -a resolute journeyman smith at last lays hold of his arm from behind, seizes the finger with which, frantic with despair, he was just going to draw the trigger, and thrust it out of joint The pistol falls, the defenceless wretch is torn from his horse, and dragged back in triumph to the justices. "Who are you, fellow?" asked the judge in a somewhat harsh tone of voice. "A man who is resolved to answer no questions, until they are more civilly asked." "Who are you then?" "For what I passed myself. I have travelled through Germany, but such rude impertinence as I have met with here is to be found no where." "Your hasty flight renders you very suspicious. Why did you fly?" "Then you run the danger of being whipped over the frontiers as a vagrant, or if they deal "Because I was weary of being the laughing. graciously with you, they will force you to enlist.” stock of your populace." He was for some moments silent, and appeared to have a severe conflict with himself; then he "You threatened to fire on them." "My pistol was not loaded, you may examine turned boldly towards the judge. it, you will find no ball in it." "Why do you carry secret weapons with you?" || "Because I have thing of value with me, and because I have been warned of a certain landlord of the Sun, who is said to infest this part of the country." "Your answers say a great deal for your boldness, but nothing for your exculpation. I allow you till to-morrow to tell me the truth." "I will remain by the answers I have given." "Lead him to the tower." "To the tower?-your worship, I hope there is still justice in the land. I shall require satisfaction." "I shall give it you as soon as you can justify yourself." The next morning the justice considered that the stranger might perhaps be innocent, that the authoritative manner of speaking would have but little influence on his obstinacy, and that it would be better to treat him with decency and moderation. He assembled the jury of the place, and Ordered the prisoner to be brought before them. "Pardon me, Sir, if in the first moment of my passion I yesterday spoke a little harshly to you." "With pleasure, if you address me in this manner." "Our laws are severe, and your affair made a noise, I cannot set you at liberty without infringing my duty. Appearances are against you, I wish you could say something to me by which they might be confuted." "But if I knew nothing?" "Then I must state the case to government, and you remain so long in custody." "And then?" "Can I be a quarter of an hour alone with you?" The jury looked at one another in a doubtful manner, but retired on a commanding wink from their superior. "Now what is your request?" "Your behaviour of yesterday, Sir, would never have brought me to a confession, for I set force at defiance. The delicacy with which you have treated me this day has inspired me with confi. dence and respect towards you. I believe that you are a man of honour." "What have you to say to me?" "I see that you are a man of honour. I have long wished for such a man as you. Allow me your right hand." "What is the use of all this?" "Thy head is grey and reverend, you have lived long in the world, have had perhaps sorrows enough of your own is it not s? and are be come more inclined to pity the misery of your fellow-creatures?" "Sir, what is the meaning of this?" "You are now on the brink of eternity, soon will you yourself stand in need of mercy from God; you will not refuse it to men-have you no idea of what I am going to say? With whom do you suppose you speak?" "What is all this? you frighten me." "Have you still no idea.-Write to your prince in what state you found me, and that I was myself from free choice my betrayer; may God hereafter be merciful to him as he will presently be to me; entreat his pity in my behalf, father, and let a tear fall on your report.—I am the landlord of the Sun." THE WAY TO BECOME A MARSHAL. A TRUE STORY. THE state numbered the Count Von B among the most meritorious of its members He was equally respected by the court and his fellowciviz as in general. In a long and eventful war, in which two civilized nations not only disregarded || at times all the principles of civilization but even of humanity itself, he risked for his country his life, his property, and all that he possessed. He was the only general whom the enemy alike feared and esteemed, before whom he fled, and whom he, nevertheless, loved. The same man who in the field fought with lion-like courage, who smiled with undaunted brow at wounds and danger, was always a mild conqueror after the battle; he maintained the most rigid discipline, attacking none but armed warriors, and protecting the citizen and the peasant. This magnanimity often rendered the short interval of repose after a victory more serviceable to his party than the victory itself. He now began to grow old, high in fame and rank, and possessing wealth and the leisure to enjoy it. Enjoying the rank of field-marshal, and a considerable salary, he passed the greatest part of the year on his estate in the country, spending but a very few months in the noisy capital. It was only on particular occasions that his sovereign applied to him for his advice, but he had always the satisfaction of seeing that it was followed. All the courtiers testified the highest respect for him; by all the good he was beloved, and from the soldiery he received the endearing appellation of father. But he was still more happy in the circle of his family. It was, indeed, but small, for he was the father of only two daughters and one son. The former were the wives of virtuous men, and the latter, who had already attained the rank of colonel, had come by an advantageous marriage into the possession of considerable property, and an estate contiguous to that of his father, whose example he incessantly emulated, and not without success. Never was father more tenderly attached to his son; never did son treat his father with greater respect. The young Count once added a whole wing to his mansion, and in this wing he constructed a very beautiful saloon. The walls of the latter required to be decorated with paintings, and for the subjects of them the Colonel selected the principal events of the glorious life of his father. These scenes, as he rightly judged, would far surpass the most costly tapestry that he could procure, and would be more honourable than the completest genealogy. To execute this idea, he employed the most celebrated painters in the country, and their labours were the more successful, because they were convinced that they were. not exerting their talents merely for a pecuniary reward, but on a subject worthy of immortality. On one side the Count was seen throwing a standard with his own hands into the midst of the enemy's cavalry, that by this truly Roman stratagem, he might animate the wavering ranks of his own troops to a new attack. In another place he was represented at the storming of a besieged town, forgetting that he was the general, sharing the dangers of the meanest soldiers, and inflaming their ardour by his example. In a third piece, he was seen rescuing his sovereign from the hands of a hostile corps by whom he had, while hunting, been surprised and taken prisoner. Another represented him in another battle, sinking wounded from his borse, and at the same moment pointing with his hand to the enemy, as if to say: "Push forward, and give yourselves no concern about me.” Again he was No. XXII. Vol. III. seen assisting to sign the peace by which his exhausted country was again restored to peace and prosperity. Carefully as all ostentation was avoided, yet wherever the spectator turned his eye, he observed some glorious scene from the life of the heroic veteran. This plan the Colonel kept a profound secret, and a few days after the saloon was finished, he gave a grand entertainment in it to a numerous company. It is scarcely possible to conceive the surprize of the old Count, at his entrance, when he beheld so many testimonies of his merits, and when the novelty of the thing itself, the congratulations of all the company, and a mixed emotion of modesty and delight quite overpowered him. It was some minutes before his feelings allowed him the power of utterance, when with a look of affection he thus addressed his son: "You did right to keep this intention of yours a secret from me, if you were bent on executing it, I should otherwise have prevented what now it is too late to hinder. To reprove you for it now would certainly be regarded a mere farce; and I therefore consider this series of paintings as a tribute of filial respect, not as food for my vanity. But, but" continued he, shaking his head with an equivocal smile. "What do you mean to say, father?" "That this painted biography partakes of all the errors of those which are written without the knowledge and consent of the heroes of them. Too often this or the other circumstance is omitted, and yet perhaps this very circumstance which is thus omitted is the principle trait of the whole. In this instance too-," Here he paused, and as he uttered the last words, the air of paternal affection was changed into a half satirical smile. He was requested to finish what he was going to say, and concluded as follows: "In this instance, too, if the short compass of my life is to be thus represented, one very heroic action is wanting; an action so important in its result, that were it not for that, we should not perhaps this day be so cheerfully assembled, or at least not under the same circumstances as at present. Remind me, my son, of this subject to-morrow at tea; it would indeed be a pity were it to be lost." The Marshal was again urged on all sides to favour the whole company with a relation of the anecdote, but he persisted with a smile in his refusal. Finding their intreaties unavailing, they sat down to table, and the preceding conversation was, or seemed to be soon forgotten. The young Count Von B had, however, treasured up every syllable his father had uttered, and did not forget at the appointed time to remind him of his promise. "'Tis no more than I expected,” replied the Field-marshal smiling, "and U |