made of victory. France has never taken a captive, of whom she has not made a friend; England, on the contrary, has never taken a prisoner, whom she has not, by outrage and ill treatment, converted to the most implacable enemy.

"The prisoners taken by France, on quitting a country, the friend of humanity, have celebrated in every region the kindness and generosity of their conquerors (p. 162); but the prisoners taken by England, have quitted the jails and the pontons, only to fill the two worlds with cries of vengeance and indignation."

To our treatment of prisoners of war, he attributes the hostility manifested against us since 1814, by Russia, Spain, Portugal, America, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, the Saxons, Neapolitans, Genoese, the Septinsular Greeks, and even the Venetians. The reader need

scarcely be told that of all this catalogue of nations, the French, and the Dutch, their free and faithful allies, were alone subjected to confinement beyond the time necessarily occupied in arranging an exchange of prisoners; and that even the sick, the aged, or the infirm, as soon as they were known to be so, were gratuitously and kindly sent over to their native country, without any conditions whatever. Let us bear this fact in mind, and contrast it with the instance of the blind sailor which we shall hereafter relate.

"It is impossible to suppose," says Monsieur Dupin, "that the English government had ever

conceived the horrible idea of destroying the health and constitution of their prisoners of war, even of the French, by subjecting them to privations and treatment calculated to overwhelm and exhaust nature." This shameful charge which he makes in the most direct manner, he affects not to believe, but adds, "that by our treatment of these unfortunate people, the British government shewed itself as deaf to the voice of pity as to the counsels of a wise philanthropy." Lamenting that gentlemen of independent fortune were not appointed by the British government, inspectors of the depots of French prisoners, he forgets that that office was undertaken gratuitously in France by British officers, who even spared a portion of their own pittance to alleviate the bitter and unexampled sufferings of their countrymen, and that Napoleon himself rejected our proposal of appointing inspectors. See Precis, vol. xi. p. 204.

He forgets that the kind interference of British officers was checked, and finally forbidden, by his government, when it found that the sufferings which our men had endured had been alleviated by their countrymen; and that in consequence, they had no longer any temptation to enlist in the French army or navy. He forgets that there is a wide difference between the ponton fitted for the reception of prisoners, and a hulk for the confinement of convicts. He does not know, that our sailors and soldiers would gladly have exchanged

the roofless churches, bullock's liver, rotten straw, and wet pavement, for pontons like ours, where surgeons attended the sick, and every comfort was provided for them. The complaint of the privation of fresh air during the long winter nights, is absurd; since it depended on the prisoners themselves to open the ports. Those, however, who know the French, know that they are not very scrupulous in the articles of ventilation and cleanliness; and that but for the vigilance and strict habits of British officers, the French prisoners would have rotted in their own filth.

The confinement to the ships was unavoidable; and the sufferings of the prisoners were aggravated by their incorrigible love of gaming, and every vice degrading to our nature. The French prisoners were ingenious mechanics, and sold some of the most beautiful articles that can be manufactured of ivory and bone, of straw and of wood; but the intercourse between them and the English was interdicted, not because they injured our manufactures, but because they inundated our country with every incentive to vices of the most detestable nature.-See Quarterly Review, No. 43. Nov. 1819.

We were in the habit, during the war, of visiting the depots of prisoners at the different seaports, and can say with confidence, that they were rendered, by the care of the officers who had charge of them, as comfortable in every respect as circumstances would admit.

Ever willing to do justice to the virtues of our enemies, we are happy to relate some among numerous acts of kindness and hospitality, shewn by individuals to our unfortunate countrymen while in captivity.

The moment the Minerve was taken, Captain Brenton was ordered to prepare for a march into the interior. He had no means of procuring money for bills, either for himself or his officers, and was obliged to offer his watch for sale, but the sum tendered was too small to be accepted; at length a stranger appeared, and demanded to see the watch; he did not want to purchase it he said, but offered to receive it as a pledge for the sum of twenty-five louis. The offer was thankfully accepted, and the stranger went away, but soon after returned, exclaiming,* "Monsieur, ma conscience me pique, Je suis indigné de la caution, qui m'a fait prendre une gage d'un brave officer, essuyant le sort de la guerre!! here take your watch, and give me a note of hand for the money!!" This being arranged, the stranger departed a second time, and again returned, observing that his conscience still troubled him; and "I have been considering," said he, "how I can best relieve it. I am, Sir, a merchant of L'Orient, my name is Dubois; I am returning home, and having examined my purse, I find I have just

* "Sir, my conscience wounds me; I am shocked at the unworthy caution of taking a pledge from a brave officer, suffering the fortune of war."

twenty-five louis more than I shall require for my journey; here," said he, as he destroyed the first note of hand," add them to the others, and give me a note for the whole!!" On such an incident it would be superfluous to comment: we mention it as a tribute of gratitude to the generous Dubois; and sincerely hope, that such an example, in future wars, will find many imitators on both sides of the water.

The house of Peregaux, the banker at Paris, shewed equal readiness in relieving the wants of the prisoners. They sent a clerk to meet Captain Brenton at St. Denis, with three hundred louis, and an order for four hundred more, on his arrival at the place of his destination; promising at the same time, that any bills drawn by the Captain, should be immediately honoured,

When the prisoners marched through St. Lo, the General Delgorgue paid them the kindest attention; extended his hospitality to as many of the officers as his table would hold. The others, with the young gentlemen, were billetted amongst the inhabitants, who, we believe, without any exception, made a point of calling their relatives together, and making a feast, as far as their means would go, for the prisoner who had become their inmate; and in no case would any of them, although bourgeois or shopkeepers, receive the smallest remuneration.

Many other instances of kindness and attention were shewn to the sufferers, as they passed on