As republicans, it becomes the more incumbent on us to bear testimony against the extravagances of those who are classed under the same denomination; and to renounce the latitudinarian doctrine, that a king can be rightfully put to death, whenever a dominant party of his subjects may adjudge him to die. There is little danger that the spirit of republican liberty become too feeble; much, that it become too bold and ferocious. We owe this protest to ourselves, but still more to our fathers, who achieved the work of our revolution, undefaced by those atrocities for which revolutions are wont to be execrated. In this exemption consists its most distinguishing and elevating peculiarity. The multitude regard the termination of the struggle; but the sage the temper with which it was maintained. We feel there is little in common between ourselves and the Independents of England. The "stamp-act," here, occasioned as much disaffection to the reigning monarch as the " ship-money," there; but none would have had it bring him to the block.

It is now time to conclude these strictures. Let any who may be tempted to accuse them of asperity, reflect how strenuous an effort, on the other side, has lately been made, abroad and at home; and how mischievous to every community is the erecting of defective human models for imitation! If Milton have benefited the freedom of the press, and done good service in any way to the cause of civil and religious emancipation, let it be acknowledged and recorded to his honour. But let the deductions from those services be equally stated; let him not become the object of exclusive and inordinate panegyric; especially here, where no motive exists for rhapsody or reservation. In England, where the same parties that divided the state while he lived, are yet continued under different names, we can account for extravagant or fallacious representation; but with us is no interest, to prevent our impartiality. Yet the aberrations of a master-spirit are of all others the most misleading; and Milton, like his own archangel, draws after him a third part of the morning stars. The time is long passed, when men bowed to the work of their own hands; but the more insidious, because more intellectual idolatry, which enshrines a favorite name in the inmost soul, is yet a besetting sin of society. The apotheosis of heroes has grown obsolete; but deify to a venerated literary champion, and consecrate opinions because associated with his name, which had been abhorrent in the abstract, is a prevalent infirmity of the best minds. Let those, who call Milton " master," ponder the tendency of his lessons. He anticipated the past Jacobinism of France, and the present Radicalism of England. He profaned the sanctity of his muse by suffering her to sing pæans to Cromwell, a profligate in youth, a tyrant in age, and a fanatic throughout. He justified

the sanguinary execution of Charles I. He would have remanded the female sex to the condition they held in the regions of Paganism. He would have substituted Decades for the christian Sabbath. Eloquence, upon such topics, should be looked upon but as a splendid sin. We cannot but deplore the selection of such a man, however exalted by genius or enlightened by learning, for an example of the perfection of our nature; and deprecate the publication of the "Treatise on Christian Doctrine," if it lead to the subversion of christian practice.

DEAR W

LETTER FROM AN AMERICAN IN EUROPE.

Göttingen.

ONE of the most striking features in the German character is a quiet and equable disposition. This is also accompanied by a mechanical self-accommodation to the various and conflicting circumstances of daily occurrence. Every man, woman, and child seems to have fallen "just in the niche they were ordained to fill;" and all the operations of society proceed with an evenness and noiselessness, which would be inconceivable to the bustlers of New York or Boston. In obedience to a law as uniform and silent as that which governs the motions of the planets, a fixed hour brings the German artisan or trader to his shop, the professor to his study, the student, pipe in mouth, to the window-sill, to gaze upon vacancy. With the return of a Sabbath or a festival, a certain change takes place in the dress and place of resort. Political, and commercial, and literary vicissitudes produce no sensible fluctuations on the surface of character; and where these are powerless, we cannot expect that such ordinary events as marriages and deaths should very strongly affect the feelings. Still the parade of sensibility, as might be anticipated, supplies after some sort the absence of the reality. It is not uncommon to conclude a pathetic newspaper account of the decease of husband or father (which is here generally inserted as an advertisement, signed by the nearest surviving relatives) by a notice that business is continued as usual, and a request for further favours from customers. The following, from a Brunswick paper, is no unfair specimen of the usual style of these advertisements:

Godfrey Zimmermann, leather-breeches maker, departed this life last evening, at seven minutes past eight, in the 53d year of his age. His disorder was the gout in the stomach, with which he had been afflicted for more than five months, and which he bore with truly Christian patience and fortitude. His mourning widow and orphan children,

oppressed with the weight of their loss, beg for the silent sympathy of their friends, whom they inform, that the business of the deceased will be conducted as usual, and request the continuance of that kind patronage, which has ever been thankfully received.

WILHELMINA ZIMMERMANN,
(Maiden-name Munster)

ADOLPH ZIMMERMANN,
KARL ZIMMERMANN.

The word "silent" may need explanation; without the intimation it conveys, the relatives and friends would feel bound to send letters of condolence, and the postage of many letters would be expensive to the bereaved family.

A man died in Göttingen a few weeks since in the vigor of life. The day after the funeral, I saw the widow with two or three of her female friends in the garden where I live, hiding her anguish under a calm, and even very cheerful countenance. Indeed they all seem fully to realize, that "all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; " accordingly they sing when at church, and cry bitterly at a funeral or at parting with a friend, because this is the proper scene for singing and weeping; but the next hour finds them in another act of the play, and they are buying, or selling, or smoking with their usual serenity. Even the soldiers, a name synonymous in other countries with ardour and impetuosity, are here the mere machines which modern warriors admire as the beau idéal of military discipline. Their firmness is renowned, but I have never heard them commended for quickness and alacrity. Madame de Staël has most justly ridiculed their pedantic system of tactics, which makes them contentedly acquiesce in a defeat, if it is only effected according to rule.

I have heard a circumstance related, which may be mentioned in this connexion. A vessel in its passage down the Elbe ran afoul of one of the floating mills, that are numerous on that river. The shock was so violent, that the floating mill instantly parted from its moorings, and drifted rapidly towards the bank. It seemed impossible to prevent its striking, and that must have been attended by the total ruin of the machinery. Had the people on board been Americans or English, it can be imagined what confusion, and bellowing, and bustle would have followed. None of this from these noiseless Germans. Not a word was spoken. Each one knew the only means that could save their boat. These were taken in silence, and the machinery was saved.

To this quiet disposition, the students at the universities form the sole exception. These young men roar and brawl in the streets and over their jugs of beer; they seek quarrels, and fight them out; and never does the first sun of a new year arise (the season when the poor police-guard must run the gauntlet of academic persecution) without shining on broken windows and other evi

dences of the uproar of the night. But when they return to their own homes, they drop quietly into the various situations for which they are fitted, and the din and riot of the university is only remembered as a feverish dream.

I know not whether it be attributable to this easy disposition, or to the peculiarity of their climate, but this people is assuredly the least cleanly I ever saw. This is particularly true of the lowest order, but is not inapplicable to the highest. Neatness principally regards our persons, our habitations, and our food. In the first the Germans fall even behind the Italians, in the second behind the French, and in all three behind the English. Even in the best houses in Dresden and Frankfort, the knife and fork are never wiped during dinner, however numerous the dishes, and you must put your fingers into the sugar-bowl; while in France and Italy there is here and there a place, where English travellers have introduced better customs.

The inns, in Europe more than in this country, furnish a pretty just criterion of a neighbourhood; and in the villages and small towns in Germany, such abodes of filth, and flies, and darkness! It were purgatory enough for an epicure to be obliged to sojourn, only for a short time, among their " golden lions and "red horses." In matter of food, he is safest who calls only for bread and beer; often he could not get any thing else if he would. He is fortunate if his sour brown bread have not a fair proportion of sand; and the beer, for ingredients, colour, and taste, is different from any liquor known in New England. If the luckless traveller is constrained to lodge in a place without city walls and conveniences, he must fain content him with Hottentot accommodation. Fortunately the cities are frequent, and in them there is less that is revolting. But even in Jena, Heidelberg, Worms, and elsewhere, we are glad to seize on historical and literary recollections, to escape from the less agreeable circumstances that press on our immediate observation.

The villages are in general insufferably dirty. Oftentimes the only road through the closely crammed hovels serves at once, by a happy economy, as a passage for the inhabitants, and a channel for a brook. If there be pond or puddle in the neighbourhood of a village, the children are sure to be paddling in it. This custom is, however, by no means confined to the rustic urchins. I see almost every day the future burghers of Göttingen washing themselves in the gutter, wading in it, and spattering each other with the water. It appears to be something innate; they take to the gutter as naturally as the ducks.

One walk through the market, where the peasant women sit with their baskets full of the various articles destined to be eaten and drunk, would furnish many particulars which we should be

glad to forget. Even as to ordinary neatness of dress and person, I cannot easily credit all I have heard, nor could you all I have seen. But these are no very inviting topics, and I know you will pardon my not entering into further details.

Something much more agreeable is the universal taste for music. Instrumental music, in particular, is carried to very high pertection. Piano-fortes and organs are to be found even in the houses of common mechanics, who can hardly command the comforts of life. Nor do females alone perform on them. One of my first acquaintances was a theological professor, who has a fine instrument in his study. They are also in the rooms of many students. The German military bands are the finest in Europe. Since the occupation of Naples by the Austrians, one of the most favorite amusements of these light-hearted people has been going to hear a choice band of Bohemians, attached to the garrison, who play every Thursday evening.

Some may doubt, whether it be a cause or a consequence of this taste, that in every village school, the two grand requisites in a teacher are, that he be able to instruct in reading and psalmsinging. So every body knows how to sing. The students often make the streets ring with their boisterous music. Even the children intermix regular songs with their holiday sports; and I have often been pleased with listening to a joyous concert from a party of mechanics, going home from their day's work in the city to some of the neighbouring villages.

It is a custom in some parts of the country, at the festivals of Michaelmas and Easter, for the instructer, followed by his scholars dressed in their neatest clothing, to go from house to house, and sing some piece of music before each in the public street. The occupants of the house are of course expected to put something into the box of the party. In the little city of Chemnitz, not far from Dresden, I have heard some very pleasing music from such a choir. The boys were of various ages, and in addition to the charm of their clear youthful voices, gave proof of having been well instructed. There is something remarkable in this national coincidence of taste. Write me in your next how much of this you believe to be factitious, how much to be natural. Ever yours.