the others (for one warrant covered the whole of us) are named six successive times. Had there been no other irregularity, the defective construction of this precept should have been sufficient reason for an immediate release. But, with the British government, "might is right;" and no justice is granted to the obnoxious, feeble bondsman notwithstanding the greatest inordinate practice.

I remain, dear sir,

Yours, &c. &c.

Το

LETTER X.

ASHGROVE, near Oatlands, V. D. L.
January, 1841.

My Dear Sir: I closed my last with some remarks concerning the instrument that bore the title of a warrant, and had the honor of taking twenty-three political prisoners from Canada to Europe. It only required reading, to be ridiculed, even by the comparatively illiterate. In fact, not only ridiculed, but also condemned, as placing unbounded authority in a petty master of a lumber ship, to deal with us as his disposition might dictate; and heaven is a witness, that his conduct bore no shade of humanity.

He, accompanied by the Liverpool owner, called upon us, and apologised for the publications relative to the mutiny. To show their regard, Mr. Frost, would undertake to forward, free, any letters we might wish

to send to America; as a packet, with which he had some connection, was about to sail for Boston. We accepted his proffer, and put in his hand a large number, which he sent on board the Pennsylvania and St. Andrews, two packets that went down in the channel; and with them, all our letters.

Christmas, the great English feast day came, and brought to us the double rations usually issued in all their prisons; but we cared but little for their extras, for we had obtained the permission of making up a sort of mess, or pudding, from the relics of our sea stock. Flour, supplied by J. G. Parker, was mixed into dough, with pure water, then incorporated with a portion, still remaining, of the dried fruit sent me while yet at Kingston, by a kind sister. This simple lump boiled, constituted our excellent Christmas dinner; and we partook of it with as hearty a relish as we would have done, of the choicest at home.

I mention this trifling incident, because it gave rise to a conversation upon the subject of England's paupers, to which I listened with silent horror. While we were engaged with our "plum pudding," a gentleman who was always a privileged visiter, came in, and remarked, that he was happy to find us so well employed.

"But," said he, "you find your dinner, no doubt, a coarse one; and, perhaps, the poorest, in your country, would feel themselves poor, indeed, if they were not able to provide a better, any day in the year. But let me assure you, that there are millions, in this land, who never know what a full dinner is, even of the coarsest food-who seldom taste of meat-and, during the winter months, never partake of but one meal per day; and that, perhaps, but a half one. In the course of my duty, I have visited families who

had not tasted food for days; and knew not where to turn for any. A famine is now raging in Manchester, that must very soon result in riot, blood-shed, and murder, unless proper means are resorted to, to alleviate the prevalent misery and destitution. In fact, the paupers of our whole land, are in a state but little better than starvation. There are none, perhaps, who witness so much of human wretchedness, as the Clergyman, if he holds himself bound to attend the couch of sickness, and administer the consolations of religion to the dying, in their last moments. And, alas! what a harrassing task it is, to fulfil the duties of such a station! How often must his heart be torn by the scenes of anguish he beholds in the sheds of the starving poor! He finds it impossible to lead the mind of the expiring, to the consideration of a future state, when his children, (mere shadows of humanity,) are mourning about him for bread. How often must he rob his own dear ones of half their wants, to administer a slight comfort to the victim of aristocratic avarice; and even then, incur the charge of dealing out with a cold handed charity. The oppression of the many, for the aggrandizement of the few, is what has branded England with infamy. It is want! cold, meager, maddening, want! that causes so many of England's subjects yearly to overleap the barrier to crime, and become thieves, incendiaries, robbers, and murderers. It is hunger! cruel, infuriating hunger! that fills our jails, penitentiaries, and hulks, to overflowing, and has peopled, with abandoned outcasts, the penal colonies to which you are sentenced. I have more pity for that man, who suffers the extreme penalty of the law for highway robbery, if it was but to supply his needy offspring with food, than for him who rolls, in his splendid equipage, to a sudden end of horror.

"When I see the gaudy trappings of rank, and splendor of riches, contrasted with the poor, forlorn beggar, in his tattered garments, and bare feet, with his gray locks streaming in the winds of winter, and his fleshless, trembling limbs, scarce bearing him up against the blasts, I cannot close my eyes upon the fact, that these are sure indications of a state of society, that must be changed for anarchy and blood-shed. If France has suffered much on account of her high-handed oppression, will not England suffer a thousand times more? But her measure is not yet full.

"Liverpool is more free from the wretched victims of inanition, than, perhaps, any other considerable city of the United Kingdom, yet our jails, (two extensive edifices,) do not afford room for near the whole number of petty criminals. This building, alone, contains upwards of three hundred adult males, and two hundred females; one half of whom had no other incentive for the commission of crime, than ostensibly to supply themselves and families with food. Two hundred boys occupy a portion, also; many of whom are under the age of eight, committed invariably for theft; and in five out of six cases, they have been inducted into the practices, by their own parents, frequently with a view to their entrance here. These little villains would surprise you, by their agility in getting possession of property, and their ingenuity in secreting it; their acuteness is indeed worthy a better cause.

"Such tales are scarcely to be credited, but they are true; and misery and crime will still, as they have been for past years, be on the increase, until our impolitic government devises some means to provide comfort and less dependance for her six millions of paupers. Man must be supplied with food, necessary clothing, and a proper share of intelligence, before crime will decrease.

"Our nation is daily adding to her stores of knowledge, science, art, and individual wealth; but the upper grade, alone, profit by them. Though the means of knowledge are as abundant as the bread stuffs the soil produces, yet they are to the poor, still more difficult to command. Has not England, in her small circle, more truly wretched than all the remainder of Europe? Has she not more infamy and crime gazetted in one year, than America in ten? Then why say that she is the most honored and wealthy nation in the world? In this right merrie Ould Englande--the land of matchless beauty-of uncommon production-renowned for hilarity, pleasure, generosity, charity, and philanthropy—the richest, most powerful, intelligent, and FREE in the universe-there are thousands dying yearly, from inanition-thousands rendered cripples, and truly hideous in appearance, by being, while too young, driven, in a starving condition, to labor incessantly, for twelve or fourteen hours per day, at the mills or factories, in a painful attitude, to which they inevitably fall victims at a premature agemillions, who know not what it is to use a single article of com

fort-thousands, whose countenances, from continued destitution, settle down into a melancholy dejectedness; and whose spirits know no hilarity or pleasure-whose wants have never been relieved by the high sounding charitable, generous, sympathetic, or philanthropic gentry of the age! Millions, who are in the midst of riches, but dare not partake, and die, famished, in the sight of tuns of bread stuffs. It is true, England is powerful, because des potic! But freedom is desccrated by being coupled with her present institutions, which all tend to oppress the many, and pamper the few.

"I would not wish to be understood as saying that there are none whose necessities are relieved by private charity, or charitable institutions; for there are millions who do yearly receive the miserable pittance of eight or twelve pence per week, during the winter. But what is such a sum, in comparison to the wants of a human being, in a country where bread is so dear? I will not say that the 'abominable corn laws' produce all the misery prevailing here, but I cannot but admit, that they conduce largely toward it. Perhaps you do not know their operation; I will, therefore, briefly explain it: wheat now, including the duty, ranges near $2 22 per bushel; and such is rendered continual by the sliding scale of rates, which rises, as wheat falls in value, and falls as wheat rises. Now, the great evil is, that this duty does not find its way into the treasury, but into the pockets of the great landlord.

"I say, the millions are starved, to gratify the few. Sir Robert Peel says, 'it is the constitutional policy of England, to maintain the aristocracy and magistracy, as essential parts of the community;' and that 'the present evils are beyond Parliamentary enactment.' Official and newspaper reports of the day, say that, at least one half the deaths taking place among the lower class, are caused by a want of proper nutriment!! Can we wonder, then, that mobs, riots, and chartist meetings are so common? Nay, I am-only astonished that bloodshed and murder are not more frequent! That every pauper is not a thief, robber, or incendiary; for at least one half the applicants, at the numerous workhouses, and charity and philanthropic institutions, are turned away unrelieved.