THE laws of all civilised nations, if not the eternal rule of right itself, have agreed to rate murder at the head of the various offences which moralists and jurists are alike accustomed to treat as crimes. Looking at the matter from the point of view whence jurists are taught to regard it, there is no just reason why this decision should be gainsaid. Life once taken away, can never be restored; and hence the state which assumes, or is supposed to assume, that every member of the community either is or may hereafter become useful to itself, watches over the lives of its subjects with a jealousy and a care such as are not called into operation by its anxiety to render secure either their good name their property. In like manner the moralist, if he confine his attention exclusively to the consequences of an offence as they bear only upon the party injured, has good ground for coinciding with the jurist. From the effects of any other wrong, be they ever so harassing and painful at the moment, a man may recover; but a blow once struck which deprives him of life, renders void his place in society, and sends him to his account, as Hamlet has it,

"With all his imperfections on his
head."

or

We have nothing to object to this reasoning. The fiction of the jurist (for a fiction we must admit it to be, without calling in the authority of Mr. Malthus to support us) is an amiable one, and the principle which has been rested upon it works well; for where there is but imperfect security to life-as in Ireland, and in the southern and western States of the American Union-civilisation cannot make head, except partially. So also the moralist, in the narrow view which he takes of the subject, sees clearly; but his view of the subject is a narrow one. To judge of the comparative heinousness of offences, it is necessary to take into

account, not only the extent of evil which each works to its victim, but the sort of influence which they severally exercise on the moral nature of the perpetrators, as well in their commission as in the steps which lead to it. The murder which it was our business to describe in a former Number, brought, for example, the guilty career of a very bad man to a climax. It shewed that in him the last spark of humanity had become extinct; but the same thing cannot be predicated of all murders. Godwin, in his tale of Caleb Williams, has contrived to throw a great deal of interest round the character of a man whom he, nevertheless, stains with the crime of homicide, and with other offences against which our spirits rebel; and though the philosophy of the work be bad throughout, there is, nevertheless, truth in it so far that, the author's manner of working out his catastrophe contradicts but one circumstance (though that is an important one) in the results of our experience of every-day life. A gen-. tleman grossly maltreated in a ballroom, however morbidly sensitive of insult, would hardly follow the person who had struck him into the street, and stab him in the dark. The very sensibility of character which Godwin attributes to Mr. Meadows would have withheld him from this; for he who has been publicly outraged can be satisfied with public reparation alone; and public reparation for such offences was to be procured a century ago only by what was called "an airing in the Park," that is, by a duel. Nevertheless, Godwin is right in treating a morbidly sensitive temper as a source, and a very fruitful source, of crime. Such a temper, unwisely dealt with, that is, indulged, instead of being restrained, and soothed, or humoured, when it ought to have been rebuked, ends not unfrequently in madness in which case, be the outrage committed what it may, the moral

guilt attached to the perpetrator must be sought for rather in the previous habits of his life than in the particular act which crowns them. However, it were foreign to the purpose of these essays to follow our subject either into the dark cells of old Bedlam, or into the more humanised retreats at Hanwell. Our business is with criminals, with persons both morally and legally responsible for their proceedings, who ruin themselves, and injure others, through the lack of that self-control to learn which is the business of all alike, be their constitutional temperament what it may. A case of this kind occurred in London in the year 1760; of which, because of the remarkable extent to which it illustrates cur theory of morals, we shall here give an account.

In the early winter of 1758, as a gentleman connected with the Foreign Office sat at supper with his wife, a rap came to the hall-door, and a servant entered soon afterwards with a letter in his hand, stating that the individual from whom he had received it waited in the passage below. The letter having been partially read, the gentleman of the house desired that the bearer might be shewn up; and there was presently introduced a young man of very striking appearance, whose dress indicated that he had just come off a journey, and had not found an opportunity of making his toilet. He might be about three or four-and-twenty years of age. His hair was light-brown, and hung over his shoulders and back in curls. He was of a fair but sallow complexion, with deep-set blue eyes; and there was an expression of considerable intelligence in a countenance, of which, however, the predominant expression was pride. He stood stiff and erect near the door where he had halted, and looked down upon the family party with a glance which might betoken either reserve or superciliousness; but which the casual observer would be pretty sure to interpret unfavourably. The gentleman to whom he brought the letter, appeared, however, not thus to read his guest's countenance; on the contrary, he addressed him in German, begged him to join their meal, rose, and handed him a chair, and

exhibited in other respects an inclination to treat him hospitably. The young man, however, declined these civilities; and answered vaguely and generally to such questions as were put to him. "He had not yet provided himself with a lodging. He did not exactly know where to look for one. He had left the bulk of

his baggage in the ship which brought him over; all, indeed, except a sac de nuit, which the waterman whom he had hired at the Customhouse Wharf had carried for him from Whitehall Stairs to his excellency's apartments. He would not trouble his excellency to send a servant with him. He had no doubt but that the waterman would be able to recommend to him a respectable tavern where he might pass the night."

"His excellency," as the stranger persisted in calling a respectable, and to a certain extent, an influential clerk in one of the public offices, looked a little surprised, but did not farther press his civilities. But he rang the bell, and desiring his servant to conduct the gentleman to a house in the neighbourhood where he knew he could lodge comfortably, he begged that he might be favoured with a call on the morrow; and stated his hour of breakfast, urging the foreigner to take part in it. As soon as the young man withdrew, the lady of the house, as was natural, proceeded to inquire about him; and her husband, having first of all read his letter carefully to an end, gave her the following ac

count:

"The youth who has just left us is called Francis David Stirn. He is a native of Hesse Cassel, the son of a Calvinist minister, and the brother of the highly respectable superintendant of Hersfeldt, with whom, as you are aware, I contracted an intimacy when I accompanied Lord Sandwich on his mission of peace to Aix-la-Chapelle. He has been sent to England in the hope that I may be able to put him in the way of working his way forward in life, though it must be confessed that his excellent brother does not describe him as one whom it will be an easy matter to serve. It seems that the youth has contrived to quarrel with every human being that was likely

to be of use to him. His talents are excellent; he is not the slave of any vice; and lacks neither industry nor ambition; but his temper is unfortunately so wayward and perverse, that it is the hardest thing in the world to keep on terms with him. He fancies slights and insults where none are intended, and resents them on the instant. Did it not strike you that his manner to myself was scarcely so civil as it might have been ?"

"I thought him odd and awkward; but I concluded, that being a foreigner, and, as it seemed, ignorant of our language, he was merely shy."

"No such thing. He is not ignorant of our language; and now that I have read his brother's letter through, it would scarcely surprise me to find that the circumstance of my addressing him in German rather than in English may have given offence. If I be correct in this suspicion, how will it be possible for me or any body else to promote his fortunes ?"

"Well, but do tell me something more about him. I declare that what you have said excites my strongest interest. What is his previous history ?"

"I have but the outlines of it here, and they are extravagant enough. He received his early education in the gymnasium of Hesse Cassel, whence, being intended for the ministry, he proceeded to the university of Bremen. His progress there was so rapid in all the branches of a liberal education, that before he attained the age of twenty he delivered more than one probationary discourse, and received the warm commendations of the senate. In consequence of the reputation which atfached to him, one Mr. Haller, a burgomaster in the place, engaged him to act as tutor in his family; and but for the unhappy temper of which I have spoken, he would have done extremely well. Unfortunately, however, the youth chose to discover and to resent slights where none were intended; and the consequence was, an abrupt dismissal from his office.

"I forgot to tell you that his father died before he went to Bremen. He had, therefore, no home to return to, except his brother's house, who

seems to have borne with him marvellously, and to have endeavouredin my opinion, unwisely-to soften down the obliquities in the young man's disposition by a too careful anxiety to humour him in all things. He was accordingly sent to Hintelin, where he went on with his classical studies, adding thereto an acquaintance with modern languages, as well as with the ordinary accomplishments of a gentleman, such as music, danc ing, and fencing. And the letter in my hand states that hopes were entertained of his doing well, when the French broke in upon the principality and overran it, reducing, by the weight of the contributions which they imposed, all classes of the inhabitants to indigence. Under these circumstances, the superintendant could no longer afford to maintain his brother, and has, therefore, sent him to England, hoping that, for the sake of the friendship that is between us, I may use my influence to obtain for the young man some means of honourable subsistence in England."

"And you will try to fulfil his wish, won't you?"

66

Certainly," was the answer; though I confess without any very sanguine expectations as to the result; for respectable situations are not to be had for the asking, and if they were, who can permanently serve a man who seems to have no control over himself in any thing?"

It is worthy of remark, that his excellency's lady, whose name, for obvious reasons, it is unnecessary to give, happened to be many years younger than her husband. She was of a somewhat romantic turn, and, having no children to give occupation to her thoughts and her time, was apt to let the former run wild in a world of fancy, and to feel the latter hang heavy on her hands. To a woman of such a temperament, the introduction of a stranger, decidedly handsome, and about whom an atmosphere of mystery appeared to hang, constituted an event of no trivial importance. She felt her interests in favour of the youth awakened to a painful degree, and when he failed to make his appearance at breakfast next morning, she gave her husband no rest till he found him out and brought him back with him to dinner. Nothing could

exceed the excellent tone of the stranger's breeding on that occasion. His shyness or suspicion melted by degrees beneath the cordial kindness of his host and hostess; and when they parted after supper, it seemed to be with a sentiment of mutual regard, which would soon ripen into friendship.

Next day came, but brought with it no Francis Stirn. Again his excellency was charged to seek out the truant and lead him back, but this time he failed of his purpose. A letter was accordingly written, in which the young man was informed that a place would always be reserved for him at the table of his friends, and that they would be glad if he would come and fill it as often as he had no better engagement. No answer was returned, neither did Stirn call during that day; but, on the day following, a few minutes before the family dinner-hour, he was announced. It happened that his excellency and his lady were engaged to dine abroad, and that no preparations were made for the usual meal at home. They received their guest, however, with great cordiality, explained how the case stood, and entreated him to return on the morrow, when they should certainly dine at home. He burst into a paroxysm of rage; charged them with insulting him by sending an invitation which they did not desire that he should accept; upbraided the husband with seeking to keep him as a sort of hanger-on about himself, instead of finding for him employment by which he might earn his own bread; and threw in their teeth that they did not care how or where a stranger might find a lodging, though he had been recommended to them by one whose friendship they professed highly to value. "But he would not be their plaything, nor that of any other Englishman, however rich or proud. He would find employment for himself, or starve in the street."

So saying, he turned upon his heel and walked out of the room and out of the house, before either lady or gentleman could so far recover from their surprise as to offer any opposition to his departure.

Though the explosion occurred abruptly, and confounded the objects

of it for a moment, both lady and gentleman, being aware of the youth's infirmity, determined not, because of the folly which they had witnessed, to cast him off; indeed, his excellency, but for the engagement which had so preposterously led to the outbreak, would have followed him on the instant, and endeavoured to argue him into a more rational frame of mind. Unfortunately, however, it was impossible for him to seek out his wayward protégé before the morrow; and when he called at the lodging of the latter, he learned, to his chagrin and surprise, that it was vacant. Stirn had come back about four o'clock the previous afternoon; settled his account, which was not a heavy one; removed his little baggage, to which no addition from the Customhouse Wharf had ever been made; and was gone, the landlady could not tell whither. Now, then, there was both mortification and grief in a family which had never meant but well towards the stranger; yet they served no purpose, for he neither returned to them, nor did all their inquiries-and they were many and urgent-suffice to discover the place of his retreat.

Meanwhile the wayward youth was becoming practically acquainted with the fact, that he who nurses an over-sensitive temper is his own worst enemy. He had fled into the

heart of the City, where, in an obscure street running out of Holborn towards Fleet Street, he found a mean lodging, and sustained life by eating sparingly at cook-shops and cheap coffee-houses.

All his economy, however-and it was rigid could not spread his scanty stock of thalers over more than a given space of time; and he was beginning to consider whether it would be best to make away with himself at once or to die of starvation, when, one morning, in the coffee-house which he frequented, he overheard a conversation between two persons, which induced him, after his scanty breakfast was concluded, to turn his steps towards Cross Street, Hatton Garden. He had ascertained that a Mr. Crawford, the master of a thriving school, was in want of an assistant; and he offered himself for the situation. A reference as to his respectability was,