VEGETABLE DIET DEFENDED. A PAMPHLET has appeared by a Dr W. A. Alcott, of Boston, in the U. S. It is hardly enough to call it a defence of vegetable diet; the writer goes the length not merely of strongly insisting on the importance and value of it, but almost, if not wholly, denounces the use of animal food. The style of the Doctor is peculiar. Some of his Americanisms almost puzzle us to decide on their exact meaning; but not to dwell on trifles, we owe it to him to say his little book is written with a kindly feeling which gives it a claim to respectful consideration. He brings together a body of evidence in support of his theory. He shows that in some cases the advantages of flesh eating are illusory; that a stimulus is given for a time, which eventually fails, and leaves the balance of strength and enjoyment on the side of the man who is content with vegetable fare In many circumstances of difficulty and danger he maintains that vegetable food has preserved life. says:

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"It is now pretty generally known that Howard, the philanthropist, was, for about forty years, a vegetable eater, subsisting for much of this time on bread and tea, and that he went through every form of exposure to disease, contagious and non-contagious, perfectly unharmed. And had it not been for other physical errors than those which pertain to diet, I know of no reason why his life might not have been preserved many years longer-perhaps to this time.

"The Rev. Josiah Brewer, now a missionary in Smyrna, has been very much exposed to disease, and, like Mr Howard, to the plague itself; and yet I am not aware that he has ever had a single sick day as the consequence of his exposure. I do not know with certainty that he abstains entirely from flesh meat, but he is said to be rigidly temperate in other respects.

"Those who have read Rush's 'Inquirien' and other writings, are aware that he was very much exposed to the yellow fever in Philadelphia, during the years in which it prevailed there. Now there is great reason from the disease, in part at least, to his great for believing that he owed his exemption temperance.

"Mr James, a teacher in Siberia, in Africa, had abstained for a few years from animal food, prior to his going out to Africa. Immediately after his arrival there, and during the sickly season, one of his companions who went out with him died of the fever. Mr

James was attacked slightly, but recovered. "Another vegetable-eater-the Rev. Mr Crocker-went out to a sickly part of Africa some years since, and has remained at his station thus far in perfect health, while many of his friends have sickened or died.

"General Thomas Sheldon, a vegetableeater, has spent several years in the most sickly parts of the southern United States, with an entire immunity from disease; and he gives it as his opinion that it is no matter where we are so that our dietetic and other habits are correct.

"Mr G. McElroy, of Kentucky, spent several months of the most sickly season in the most unhealthy parts of Africa, in the year 1835, and yet enjoyed the best of health the whole time. While there, and on his passage home, he abstained wholly from animal food, living on rice and other farinaceous vegetables and fruits."

Ancient history and modern experience he boldly arrays on his side of the question :

"The Jews of Palestine, two thousand years ago, lived chiefly on vegetable food. Flesh, of certain kinds, was indeed admissible by their law; but, except at their feasts, and on special occasions, they ate chiefly bread, milk, honey, and fruits.

"Laurence says that the Greeks and Rocity, manliness, and bravery, appear to have mans, in the periods of their greatest simplilived almost entirely on plain vegetable preparations."

"The Irish of modern days, as well as the Scotch, are confined almost wholly to vegetable food. So are the Italians, the Germans, and many other nations of modern Europe. Yet, where shall we look for finer specimens of bodily health, strength, and vigour, than in these countries? The females especially -where shall we look for their equals? The men even-the Scotch and Irish for example English, who use more animal food ?" -are they weaker than their brethren, the

Nor does he stop here; the Doctor proceeds to show the moral evil resulting from the slaughter of animals, and would have the commandment, "Thou shalt do no murder," regarded as applicable to depriving the brute creation of existence!

living creatures unnecessary pain, we are The tenderness which would spare all disposed to applaud; but we cannot help thinking that if man have a right to exist himself, he has a right to take the lives of

the inferior animals. The good Doctor is eloquent against the pain inflicted on the victims; but he does not show how this can be avoided. If all mankind were with one accord to refuse to eat flesh, he does not tell how the millions of animals which would soon over-run the land, are to be provided for, so that they could live and rejoice in living. Shockingly, we are free to admit, as man frequently abuses his high charge, we are by no means convinced that it would be better for the brute creation if he were away, or his habits wholly changed. To say nothing of the fury with which some would tear others to pieces, we would ask on what are they to feed? If told 'on vegetables," taking it for granted that there would be plenty for them as well as for man, largely increased as his consumption would be in the case supposed, we would request Dr Alcott to look at some of these vegetables through a microscope, and then perhaps he will find them teeming with life, and discover myriads of living creatures, the denizens of that green world, who may be as capable, for aught he can know, of feeling pain as an ox or a sheep, and if so, how can animal destruction be spared?

While we deprecate as hateful and odious anything like contempt for the sufferings of the brute creation, we still hold that were animals left to themselves their

wars with each other, the horrors of famine to which they would be exposed at particular seasons, and the state of miserable helplessness which must be their doom in old age, are evils which, were they capable of reasoning on the subject, we should expect they would deem more dreadful than even the butcher's knife and all the horrors of the slaughter house. In spite of his weaknesses and vices he is of some use, and has not inaptly been called the "Constable of nature."

LAST MOMENTS OF REMARKABLE

CHARACTERS.-No. IX.
THE GREAT CONDE.

THE Prince of Condé, whose courage and success on the field of battle continue to be the pride of his country, passed a strangely chequered life. At Rocroi he became a renowned conquerer at an age when others only venture to aspire. Alternately the idol of the Parisians and the object of there bitterest hatred, the prop mainly depended upon to support the throne, and the denounced traitor, he experienced greater changes than it falls to the lot of most mortals to know. His course materially changed when he drew near the close of life. Though constantly exposed to the greatest dangers, he had for many years been indifferent to religious matters. He did not make him

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self the opponent of the Catholic faith, but from the doubts which arose in his mind he neglected its observance. In this state of mind he reached his sixty-fourth year, when he was called to the death-bed of his sister, the Duchess de Longueville. had not led a most virtuous life, but after being long notorious for her gallantries, in her latter days her penitence and faith made her in the eyes of those about her such a model of piety, that dying they regarded as a saint soaring to heaven rather than a weak sinner sinking into the grave. Her admonitions, when she approached life's goal, made a deep impression on his mind, and her happy departure from the world completed his conversions.

The change in his opinions is said to have produced but little alteration in his habits, as in him philosophy and benevolence had to a great extent done this work of religion.

His health was declining when his grand-daughter, the Duchess de Bourbon, was attacked by the small pox. Condé visited her at Fontainbleau. The air of the sick chamber, added to grief and anxiety, was thought to have tended to shorten his days. He rapidly declined. Louis Joseph de Bourbon thus brings his story to a close :

his approaching dissolution announced by "The prince daily grew worse; he heard one of the physicians, whom he had requested to speak openly, and without fear, and from that moment devoted himself to the duties of a good father and a pious Christian. He sent for his son and his nephew; the Duchess d'Enghien wished that the Duke de Bourbon might likewise be present, but he would not consent; alleging that he was an only son, that his days were precious, and that he ought not to be exposed to the contagion of bad air.' He dictated his will with his accustomed presence of mind. After having satisfied the duties of friend, Condé made a separate bequest o the father, the master, the prince, and the fifty thousand crowns to Gourville. That faithful follower, however, when he had the act legally registered, omitted the legacy to friendly manner, reproached him for this himself; and when the prince, in the most omission, Gourville replied: "That he was overpaid by the excess of his master's kindness, and that he wished for no other benefit than the good will of the princes, his children.' Condé remembered the poor in his will; neither did he forget the provinces which had suffered by the civil war, though he had before befriended them; and he left fifty thousand crowns to build a parochial church, at Chantilly. Having dictated his his weakness not allowing him, he dictated last will, he wished to write to the king, but a letter, in which, after making protestations of constant attachment to his majesty, he earnestly solicited Louis to permit his nephew, the Prince de Conti, to return to

court. The prince desired this letter should not be delivered till he should be dead: he then finished settling his affairs, and requested his son, whose tenderness and virtues he well knew, to supply any omission he might have made.

"Toward eleven o'clock at night he dozed in his chair about two hours; when he awoke, he asked for his confessor; but, as father Deschamps had not then arrived, he confessed to father Bergier. That jesuit, as is usual, exhorted him to pardon his enemies: "Ah!' said the great Condé, why speak of pardon; you know I never retained the slightest resentment against any man.'

"Before he could receive the last sacraments, the Catholic religion required that he should make a public apology for the scandal his past infidelity had occasioned. Being too much exhausted to utter this apology himself, his confessor, at his desire, delivered it in the terms that were conformable to custom and Christian humility. He then received the last unction, and his piety was not disturbed by the loud sorrows of his afflicted family.

"Almost immediately after this awful ceremony had taken place, the Duke d'Enghien arrived from Versailles, with the pleasing information that the king, out of respect to the great Condé, pardoned the Prince de Conti. The prince still continued alive to pleasurable emotion, and satisfaction beamed on his dying countenance. He told his son he could not have brought him more pleasing intelligence, and asked for the letter which he had dictated, that his grateful acknowledgments might be added.

"His worldly and Christian duties being now fulfilled, the prince yielded without restraint to paternal tenderness; he soothed and conversed an hour with his son, to whom he had always been tenderly attached; he then asked for the Duchess d'Enghien, and, causing everybody to retire, exhorted the duke and his consort to always live in that harmony by which they had hitherto been united. After giving them advice, founded on the experience of an eventful life, he embraced his children with that touching effusion of sensibility which never dies in the virtuous and feeling heart; they kneeled at his feet, drowned in tears, and asked his blessing, which he bestowed.

"When the prince said, 'My son, you will soon have no father,' the Duke d'Enghien, who was at his feet, overcome with tenderness and grief, swooned away; on his recovery he threw himself in his father's arms, and conjured the prince 'to forgive him any offence he might have committed.' You have been as good a son,' replied Condé, 'as I have endeavoured to be a father.' He then recommended his household to the duke

they requested to see the prince for the last time. Condé did not shrink from the desolating spectacle; he suffered them to come; he was no doubt moved by the grief, consternation, and despair which his numerous attendants displayed, but nothing could shake the stoic fortitude of his soul.

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The fatal moment slowly approached; he asked how long he might possibly survive?' and was told,' that God alone could decide.'

He was resigned, recited some prayers, and consoled his afflicted children; his soul was now absorbed in his family and his God. At this awful crisis the Prince de Conti arrived, and the great Condé had the happiness to see him before he died; he begged him to approach, and, embracing his nephew and son, exhorted them always to live united, and to be faithful to God and the king. Those around him, fearing that his sensibility would hasten his dissolution, turned his attention to religion; he dismissed his family, and conversed with father Deschamps, his confessor; but his children entreated to be again admitted, and he could not deny them. He gave directions concerning the manner of his burial to the Duke d'Enghien, renewed his paternal advice, embraced him for the last time, and then begged him to retire, as he felt his strength began to fail. From that moment he only thought of his salvation; he gave the noblest examples of piety and repentance, preserved his understanding to the last moment, and expired on Monday, December 11, at seven in the morning!

"The Duke d'Enghien, who had retired into an adjoining apartment, alarmed by the movement he heard, wished to enter his father's room; he was, however, at first prevented, and conveyed to his apartments, but it was found impossible to retain him; he forced his way to the chamber, knelt at the bedside of his father, whose face was covered with a handkerchief, and exclaimed, while tears flowed in torrents, 'Oh God! is that my father? This is all, then, that remains of that great man!' It was with difficulty they could force him from the excruciating spectacle, which became more heartrending by the presence of the Duchess d'Enghien and the Prince de Conti.".

"From the tomb of Rufus was taken a ring, with a ruby of large size and great value; and that nothing might escape the vengeance of these vile miscreants, the noble monuments "of kings and awful fathers of mankind" were broken and mu. tilated, and many of the statues suffered decollation, and every other indignity which could be devised by an infuriated banditti of fanatical enthusiasts.

"It is said, that one of the grenadiers in Waller's army, having been educated in a school founded by Bishop Wykeham, placed himself a voluntary sentinel to protect the beautiful mausoleum of that great man, which happily escaped untouched.

"The fragments of broken glass being collected, now form the great west win dow, which" sheds a dim religious light" through this promiscuous association of pieces'

REMARKABLE EPITAPH IN THE CATHEDRAL

unhappy Hebrews have been pursued for adhering, in their melancholy wanderings, to the religion of their forefathers. "Good men (in the words of a contemporary author), “sincere Christians, as they professed to be, deriving all their hopes of mercy, happiness, and immortality, from the revered book which described the Jews as the chosen people of God, sought to honour that God by the most heartless persecution of his favoured race." In the first of the tales, called the Edict,' we find a Jewish colony named Eshcol, for a long period established in Spain. We are introduced to a family which, with one wanderer, a homicide, presents several characters of great merit, and the situations in which they are placed, including the lover of a beautiful maiden, when the Edict of Ferdinand and Isabella, banishing from Spain those who refuse to become Christians, appears, are deeply affecting. They are painted with the tender eloquence of Florian, and the descriptions are bold and striking, but occasionally redundant. The weakness which violates probability to save a favourite character is unknown to the fair authoress. Like old Renault, "shed blood enough," seems to be her motto, and all for whom she has called forth our sympathies fall beneath the sword of the destroying angel.

The "Escape" relates, as already intimated, to the same intolerant spirit, but the result is different. Its scenes are agreeably varied, and the expedients of a devoted wife to save a beloved husband are successfully pictured. They are ingenious (we must not inquire too nicely into their practicability), but in the end unfortunate. After some well-managed incidents, we find both condemned by the Inquisition in Portugal. The writer must now speak for herself :

cloudless and lovely, as it had been the last "The 1st of November, 1755, dawned forty days. Never had there been a season more gorgeous in its sunny splendour, more brilliant in the intense azure of its arching heaven, than the present. Scarcely any rain had fallen for many months, and the heat had at first been intolerable, but, within the last six weeks, a freshness and coolness had infused the atmosphere, and revived the

earth.

"As it was not a regular auto da fè (Alvar and his wife being the only victims), the awful ceremony of burning was to take place in the square, of which the buildings of the Inquisition formed one side. Mass had been performed before day-break, in the chapel of the Inquisition, at which the victims were compelled to be present; and about halfpast seven the dread procession left the Inquisition gates. The soldiers and minor serin the centre of which were the stakes, and vitors marched first, forming a hollow square, huge fagots piled around. Then came the sacred cross, covered with a black veil, and