results of the information he obtained are reserved for a future occasion, he is yet unwilling to omit the present opportunity of stating a few of the most prominent facts; because they have an immediate connection with that simultaneous desire for reform and improvement, now so unanimously felt throughout the whole European commonwealth.

The high sense of religion, turn for deep thinking and simplicity of manners, by which the second and third classes of society are distinguished in Germany, have been already illustrated by several writers; but by none so ably as Madame de Stael, in her admirable work entitled De L'Allemagne: for, to the exact veracity of her assertions, and the solidity of her reasonings, with the exception of some trifling inaccuracies, all those who have any knowledge of the country, including the natives themselves, bear ample testimony. Whoever reflects on those qualities, and the amazing intellectual advances made by Germany during the last century; when he recollects, at the same time, that an ardent love of freedom was the marked characteristic, and has invariably, however studiously repressed, appeared to be the instinctive passion of the people; cannot wonder that after having witnessed the innumerable abuses eradicated by the late struggle for public liberty in France, the Germans should now pant for a removal of those evils, civil and political, which still continue to impede their own happiness and prosperity.

Owing to the fatal direction taken by the politics of France, when that country was given up to the inexorable sway of sanguinary demagogues and unprincipled factions in the early part of the Revolution, and by which the hopes anticipated from the event, were blasted for a time at least; a long series of uninterrupted warfare and reciprocal aggression, suspended the progress of liberal principles to the north of the Rhine. But they were revived on the restoration of peace in 1814, and greatly augmented, when, notwithstanding their unheard of sufferings, and endless sacrifices, the people saw, that instead of performing often repeated promises, and establishing a social system, more conducive to the interests of the Germanic confederation, and consonant to the improved spirit of an enlightened age; the congress assembled at Vienna, for the avowed purpose of consolidating the peace and happiness of nations, seemed only to think of aggrandizement and partition, transfer and spoliation!'

That a discontent truly national should have grown out of the determinations taken at Aachen, and repeated at Carlsbad, is not surprizing: but that this discontent should have singled out Kotzebue for its first victim is by no means so intelligible. He was no doubt the literary agent of a foreign power which had little right to intrude its opinions, and none to push its practical agency into the German empire: but, for that very reason, there could be nothing contagious in the sentiments of this M. Kotzebue; and it was better to learn those of his employers in a form which invited hostile attack,

than

than to receive them in the unanswerable and irresistible shape of private instructions to the obedient German courts. A mound of public opinion could be opposed to the advice of the journalist: but, when the sovereign has to speak, the command is issued. Least of all should those, who object to a censorship, employ the dagger to prevent and repress the publication of any opinions whatsoever. It is a dangerous error to believe that assassination can in any circumstances be permanently useful to a good cause. This crime revolts the most beautiful feelings of our nature, and drives the generosities and the humanities into a vindictive enlistment under the opposite banners. Thus that very portion of public opinion, which alone cannot be treated harshly, is suddenly transferred to the wrong scale; the tenderly organized, and the conscientiously principled, withdraw their countenance; and, when a coarser audience only remains to look on, the ardour of those youths is presently chilled who have the noblest sensibilities, the fairest intentions, and the most heroic spirit. Bishop Lowth may have praised, and Sir William Jones may have translated, the song of Harmodius, but the boy-assassin rendered no service to Athens. Not the Hipparchus whom he slew, but the Hippias whom he left, was the tyrant; and this tyranny was greatly embittered by the mistrust which succeeded to the conspiracy. Cicero may have suggested originally the death of Cæsar, and have offered to write the Apology of Brutus: but this most celebrated of assassinations ruined the popularity of the senatorial party, provoked a vindictive proscription, and finally occasioned the institution of the very despotism which it was intended to prevent. When Domitian fell by the Christian stab of Stephen, he had already put to death the two Flavii, for the sake of whose accession Apollonius had instigated this act of violence, and rung the knell of preparation in every church between Ephesus and Rome. In modern times, the Jesuits stimulated several regicides, which ultimately occasioned the dissolution and banishment of the order, without contributing any where to exalt its ascendancy. The assassination of the Duke of Buckingham by Felton, in 1628, so admirably narrated in Hume, bears a closer resemblance to the deed of Sand, than any of these prior instances; and it was welcomed by the English poets as well as by the English people. Yet this rash interruption of the course of nature lost Rochelle to the Protestant cause in France, and enfeebled at home the pretences for discontent which were brought forwards in the ensuing parliament. What purpose, too, was answered by the recent murder of Mr. Perceval?- Klopstock, in his Beyden Græber, justly obL 2

serves

serves that Charlotte Corday died in vain for her country: yet, if any example peculiarly acted on Sand, it was this, to which Wieland's Dialogue, intitled " Brutus and Corday," had given singular celebrity in Germany. Inattentive to the whole history of assassination, which, wherever it has accomplished its physical purpose, has failed to effect its moral object, young Sand appears to have imagined that an individual more or less can turn the scale of a great cause; or that patronage can any where be at a loss for sophists of the principles which it is disposed to reward. Alas! what are the heroes of popularity?-bubbles on the billow swollen by the wind, but not the force which upheaves and impels the stormy ocean. General causes, which influence multitudes of men, are the real pre-disposers of events.

'While at Jena, Sand was not only a witness to, but a participator in the literary feud to which the violent comments of Kotzebue gave rise. Having with many other students then present fought for the best interests of Germany, he dreaded nothing so much, as the probability of that writer's principles and doctrines tending to mislead both the Princes of Europe and the public; by which the dearly earned triumphs gained during the preceding contests would be bartered for perpetual bondage. As the unshaken and ardent friend of truth, it was therefore natural for Sand to look with indignation on that part of the imperial counsellor's writings, which reviled and calumniated those teachers and professors, whom he knew to be irreproachable both in morals and character; nor, when the subject happened to be discussed by his companions, did he hesitate to express the abhorrence in which he held the foreign stipendiary and political apostate," as Kotzebue was now designated. This extraordinary young man was thus led on from one reflection to another, until his enthusiastic imagination led him to suppose, that the sacrifice of a mercenary journalist would contribute to the liberation of the whole German people from oppression. To such a pitch of impetuous energy was he carried on some occasions, that Sand would often conclude a long comment on the dangerous consequences of tolerating any writer, who had thus set the liberties of his country at nought, by observing, it became an imperative duty, and even a virtue to punish them; adding with an air of the greatest apparent composure, that having after long reflection overcome the dreadful contest between his love of country, and sense of religion, he was himself prepared to strike the blow, often exclaiming in a tone of hysterical exultation

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori!

From the characteristic mildness of his nature, these proofs of a perturbed spirit were considered as the offspring of momentary anger; for little did his hearers imagine their amiable and enlightened companion had already determined to put the bloody purpose into almost immediate execution!

'Having

Having concluded his course of study, he left Jena early on the 9th of March of the present year, (1819,) it is supposed on foot, and very scantily supplied with money, without taking leave of any one, or communicating his intentions. He merely assumed the old German costume, and reached Manheim on the morning of the 23d, having remained one day at the Swan Inn, Frankfort, and passed several more with a friend in the same city. Taking up his abode at a hotel called the Vineyard, in Manheim, he announced himself as a student from Erlangen, adding that his name was Henricks. Soon after his arrival Sand inquired where M. Von Kotzebue lived, and also asked for a preacher named Karbach, who, he said, knew his family. Unalterable in the resolution he had formed, and doubtless satisfied that he was about to perform a meritorious and holy act of duty, Sand presented himself at Kotzebue's door twice on the morning of his arrival, stating that he had letters to deliver from Weimar, where the mother of Kotzebue still lives, though at the advanced age of eighty-two. As the Counsellor was in the habit of devoting his mornings to literary pursuits, and going out at twelve o'clock, the stranger could not gain admission. Being told to return in the evening, the usual time of receiving visitors, Sand withdrew to the inn, and dined very heartily at the public table: here he met with a village curate, with whom he passed above two hours in the most cheerful and animated conversation. Taking leave of his companion a little before five o'clock, he proceeded towards the scene of action, and although he joined several ladies, who were also going to visit Madame Kotzebue, it did not disconcert him in the least, or tend in any manner to alter his design. Having rung the bell, the door was immediately opened, upon which Sand bowing, suffered the ladies to enter before him, and they were accordingly shewn into the drawing-room. Remaining in the hall till his name was announced, the servant soon returned, and led the stranger into an adjoining apartment, where, he said, the Counsellor would come in a few moments. When the company arrived, M. Kotzebue was seated with his family, and after the usual compliments had been exchanged, it is confidently reported, that while holding his youngest son, then scarcely two months old, up in his arms, he observed in a tone of great emotion, and turning to the ladies, "I was exactly the age of this child when my father died!"

It is supposed that Sand employed the short interval of being left alone, in preparing to strike the meditated blow, for scarcely had the unsuspecting victim entered the apartment, when the infuriated antagonist, with irresistible dexterity, plunged a long poignard into his body: the blow was directed with such force, that the weapon penetrated the fourth rib on the left side, inflicting a mortal wound on the heart. The unfortunate sufferer most probably attempted to disarm his assailant, and after a momentary struggle, in which the agonies of death must have given additional strength to the dying man, both fell to the ground: here Sand was soon enabled to recover the use of his arms; and to prevent L 3 the

the possibility of failure in his sanguinary purpose, three more wounds were inflicted by the minister of vengeance; one of these, perforating the breast, entered the lungs.

Upon hearing the fall, followed by the groans of M. Kotzebue, a servant hurried to the fatal spot, and found his master extended on the floor, weltering in his blood; while the wretched perpetrator knelt by with the dagger in his hand, coolly contemplating the prostrate victim! The cries of the servant having at length alarmed the ladies, they rushed into the room, and with frantic screams beheld the horrid spectacle! The Counsellor had by this time lost much blood, and was breathing his last; Sand continuing to grasp the reeking weapon, and unmoved by what was passing around, stedfastly gazed on the bleeding corse. Some of the affrighted party now called from the windows for help and a surgeon, while Emily, the eldest daughter of M. Kotzebue, aided by his valet de chambre, succeeded in removing the dead body of her father into another apartment.

Whilst the family and visitors manifested such consternation and woe, the perpetrator seemed alone calm and collected, quietly to await his doom; but ere the wished for succour arrived, he rose and descended the stair-case, exclaiming in a loud voice, "The traitor has fallen!" On his reaching the outer door, the street was already thronged with a large concourse of people; rushing violently through the crowd, he threw a hasty and indig nant glance back at the windows, where several voices still cried Murder! Then raising the poignard in one hand, while a written paper was observed in the other, he vociferated, "I am the murderer! but it is thus that all traitors should die!" Even at this awful moment, so impressive were his gestures and language, that no one present attempted either to seize or disarm him. Imme diately after this terrific exclamation, the enthusiast knelt down with an air of great calmness and solemnity, first looking towards the house in which the bloody deed had just been perpetrated, he clasped his hands, and raising his eyes to heaven said, "I thank thee, O God! for having permitted me, successfully, to fulfil this act of justice!" From such expressions as these, and the following sentence inscribed on the paper which be held up, "Deathblow for Augustus Von Kotzebue, in the name of virtue!" the suspicion of his derangement was fully confirmed; a circumstance that did not fail to excite public astonishment, at his being so quietly suffered to retain the dagger; for no sooner had the last invocation terminated, than tearing open the clothes that covered his breast, he repeatedly plunged the weapon into his own bosom, causing several deep wounds; he immediately fell to the ground, and remained until the magistracy, who were by this time apprized of the tragical event, gave directions for his removal to the public hospital, where his wounds were carefully bound up.'

The subsequent fortunes of this enthusiast are known. He has in a great degree recovered from the suicidal wounds, but his voice has nearly been extinguished by the injury of his lungs;