The state of my wounds rendered it impera- stray ball. Though a Duke of the Empire, tive that I should take some precautions for a Grand Marshal and a favorite, he had my own safety, and having no time to mount, fallen into a melancholy and jealous mood, I threw myself into the centre of the square and said to Marmont-"My friend, the formed by the 37th regiment of light infantry. This regiment at that time ill-organized, Emperor is insatiable in his love of conflict; though since become very effective, aban- but we shall rest here-it is our destiny.' doned itself to panic and fled. At the same On the same day he received his mortal time my staff and escort got away from the wound, dying on the morrow" in atrocious point at which the enemy's charge was tak- torment." Napoleon when he had lost ing place. The unhappy regiment in retreat Duroc "was surrounded only by his flatmistook them for the Prussians, and fired terers, and theirs was the only counsel he upon them. Hurried along by the movement, cared to receive." The victory of Bautzen my very soul was grieved by the error which I saw had been committed; our poor officers came after that of Lutzen, to enhance the were being slain by our own hands; yet I deception that possessed his mind; yet both fancied that the Prussians must be mixed up battles were without result. Europe was with them." rising against its conqueror; but his armies, magnified by immense additional levies, inspired him with unlimited courage, Accordingly, not being so hot-headed as Nelson at Trafalgar-Marmont took himself out of the way, with his hat, under his arm, and when, during the armistice, Metterthat the enemy might not recognize the white plumes of a Marshal. The next attack was vigorously repulsed, and Lutzen was a decided victory. "I am once more the master of Europe!" said Napoleon to Duroc in the evening. The road to Dresden was open. Marmont advanced along it. The Russian Emperor and the Prussian King, who, within forty-eight hours had established their headquarters there, retired with precipitation, and the French made a triumphant entry. During the period preceding this event, which seemed to revive the lustre of the Imperial arms, Marmont had been in constant communication with Napoleon. The Emperor's instructions were, as usual, minute and decisive. He left little discretionary power in the hands of his confidential military agent-for such, in effect, was the Marshal. Every thing was initiated by him, every thing was directly subject to his control. nich pointed to the prodigious combination against him, he answered-" Ah, well, the more numerous you are, the more certainly and the more easily I shall beat you?" Prince Metternich quitted him after a conversation which lasted ten hours, having lost all hope of entering into any negotiations which could possibly end in peace. On his part, Napoleon abandoned himself to the idea that Austria would remain neutral—for his last words were, as Metternich went out at the door, "Well, then, you will not make war upon me?" As a last resource, the Congress of Prague was convened, but vainly. The French Plenipotentiaries declared themselves to be without instructions. At midnight, on the 12th of August, 1813, the last day of the armistice, the Allies declared that hostilities would commence on the 16th. On the 12th the Plenipotentirries received their powers, but too late. This proceeding, Marmont declares, was highly characteristic of the Emperor: The Seventeenth Book of the "Memoirs " contains the history of the campaign, from the passage of the Elbe at Priesnitz, to the "Napoleon, during the latter years of Battle of Dresden, and the minor engage- his reign, preferred losing all to ceding any ments of Possendorf, Falkenheim and Zurn- thing. In this respect his character had wald. Duroc and Moreau disappear from undergone a great modification. He was no the scene. The armistice of Pleiswig and longer the young hero of Italy, who had the Congress of Prague were followed by known how to renounce the immediate hope fresh impulse given to the war by the ego signed himself to the abandonment of a of taking Mantua, and who had even retistic confidence of the Emperor and the re-hundred and fifty siege guns, then in the sentful contumacy of the Allied Powers. trenches, that he might march, give battle The Prussians, says Marmont, fought with to the enemy in the field, and return to rereal hatred against the French. After the sume the execution of his project. If, in day at Reisenbach, Duroc was killed by a 1813, Napoleon had made peace (which he a might have done with honor after his victo- found him an excellent, unpretending comries at Lutzen and Bautzen), he might have panion. He lavished much friendliness upon received considerable advantages to himself, me. I repaid this good will by the patience while he satisfied the public opinion of with which, day after day, 1 listened to his France. He would have recompensed his stories about his kingdom. He often spoke country for the efforts it had made to sus- to me of the affection entertained by his tain him. * * He might, in two or three subjects towards him. There was a sort of years, have recommenced the struggle with laughable candor in his language, betraying forces more complete and more imposing a profound conviction that he was necessary than ever;-but his passion dragged him to the happiness of the Neapolitans. Among on. His superior intellect undoubtedly sug- other things, he told me that, when he was gested to him the value of a temporizing about to quit Naples (his idea of departure policy; but a fire burned in his heart, a being a secret), he took a walk with the blind instinct led him This queen, and, hearing the popular acclamainstinct, more powerful than reason, domi- tions around him, said to her, Ah, poor neered over his understanding." people they are ignorant of the misfortune they are about to suffer. They know not that I am going away!' I listened smiling; but he, while he related the incident, seemed he had caused." still touched by a sense of the public sorrows on. * * "Moreover, he had an insidious counsellor, says Marmont. This was the Duke of Bassano, who repeated continually these words" Europe is waiting, and impatient to know whether the Emperor will sacrifice Dantzig." Thus caressing the pride and encouraging the pretensions of his master, the Duke of Bassano urged him forward in the cause which led" to the fall of Napoleon and the destruction of the Empire." Marmont, not daring to oppose his policy, contented himself with discussing and blaming his military plans. The dissatisfied soldiers in the army before Dresden mutilated their hands that they might be incapable of further service. This practice, according to the Major-General of the Emperor's staff, had become almost an epidemic. In order to counteract it, Napoleon directed that two men out of each division, upon being convicted of the offence, should be shot in the presence of their comrades, and issued a secret order that every act should, in future, be punishable with death. This is a remarkable illustration of the discipline which it was found necessary to enforce in the ranks of the Grand Army. From the date of the occupation of Dresden all went wrong in the Council Chamber of the Emperor :-he suffered many repulses in the field, and, as usual, blamed his lieutenants. To Marmont he said, when the Allies seemed ready to displace him in the theatre of war,- "The game is getting confused; it is only I that can restore it to order." Upon which the commentator remarks, "Alas! It was he who had lost himself in this labyrinth." The golden-coated horseman flattered himself with the idea that he was a father to his people." Napoleon, the patron of airs of a moral philosopher, especially when these little kings, sometimes assumed the he conversed in private with Marmont. “He drew a distinction between a man of honor and a conscientious man, giving his preference to the former, because, he said, we know what to expect from a man who is bound simply and purely by his words and his engagements, while in the other case we depend on his opinions and feelings, which may vary. best.' 'He does that which he thinks he ought to do, or which he supposes is law, the Emperor of Austria, has done that 'Thus,' he added, my father-inwhich he believes conducive to the interest of his people. He is an honest man, a concientious man, but not a man of honor. You, for example, if the enemy had invaded France and stood upon the heights of Montthat the welfare of your country commands martre, you believe, perhaps with reason, you to desert me, and you do it; you may be a good Frenchman, a brave man, a conscientious man, but you are not a man of honor." Then, a man of honor is not an honorable man. "It may be imagined [adds Marmont] what an impression these words made upon me-an impression that has never been effaced from my memory." The terrible two days at Leipsic partially restored Napoleon to a sense of his position. Marmont describes King Murat as no less Marmont, his arm still crippled by his absurdly egotistical than King Joseph: Spanish wounds, received a shot through his "I met Murat daily and familiarly. I hand and a contusion on his left arm. One * ball had struck his hat, another had lodged thing to your fire, and still less to your in his clothes, and four horses were killed, or bayonet charge. You will perceive disabled, under him. His staff fell thickly the advantage of this. The enemy, accus around him as he rode. From Liepsic to tomed to count upon three ranks, will estimate our strength at one-third more than it the Elster, to Weissenfels, to Hanau, to is." Mayence, the French army fought its way. Our return to the soil of the Empire seemed to put an end to our sufferings; but, in reality, only suspended them for a moment. We were destined, still later, to be overtaken by many a stroke of disaster and many a stroke of misery.' petulant complaints. ous reserve. * * So ends the Eighteenth Book of the Mar- "I was ten hours under the fire of the mont Memoirs. The correspondence ap- enemy. Never at any period of my pended to it proves that the Marshal's plans life, did I serve you more devotedly than on of the campaign differed in some material this occasion. There is not a soldier in the points from those of Napoleon. As he had sixteenth corps who will not attest it; yet declined to become the Emperor's brother-in- your Majesty does not deign to mention me in your recital of the events of this glorious law, so he now refused to become, without day. Sire, next to the humiliation, and the a protest, his associate in insane expedi- still greater danger, of being under the comtions; but Napoleon was desperate. Vigor- mand of such a person as the Prince of ous, unwearied, perpetually hopeful, he Moskowa, I can imagine nothing worse than hurled his armies from place to place, as if to see myself completely passed over amidst circumstances like these." convinced that success was his, by a right more indefeasible than that of any hereditary Elba is in sight. There are not many king of men. "Issue this order to every stages to be traversed between Leipsic and column," he wrote, "They must never Fontainebleau. Marmont already feels the pause to rest upon the spot where they have Empire drifting from beneath the feet of a seen the sun go down." Night and day triumphant soldiery. The Emperor, he were devoted to the war. No degree of thinks, was unjust to him; he is now rigorcelerity could satisfy his impatience; no ously just to the Emperor. And it is withprecision could appease his hunger for news out hesitation that he imputes to the defifrom the several divisions. "You send me cient strategy and mental aberrations of officers who are mere children, who know Napoleon the calamities of 1813. nothing, and who can communicate verbally doubt, when Waterloo closes the cloudy and no information whatever. Send me men." fiery scene, Marmont will throw a last asperBefore the closing battle of the campaign, sion on the fame of his mighty commander. Napoleon issued the most exact instructions Few Frenchmen seem to have realized so unto his generals. To Marmont he wrote: mistakeably as he the sense of disgust and fatigue excited by the restless and devouring pride of the self-elected Cæsar. "Arrange your troops in two lines instead of three. A third rank adds scarcely any No NAPOLEON'S STAR.-" One day, at Fontaine- took him by the hand, opened the window, and bleau, Fesch was disputing harshly, as was his led him on to the balcony. Look up there,' usual custom, indeed. The Emperor grew he said, do you see any thing?" 'No,' angry, and told him that he, a libertine, an in- replied Fesch, I see nothing.' "Well, then, fidel, had good grounds for assuming such an learn to hold your tongue,' the Emperor went hypocritical manner, &c. "It is possible,' on; I can see my star; it is that which guides said Fesch, but that does not prevent you me. No longer dare to compare your weak and from committing injustice; you are devoid of imperfect faculties to my superior organizareason, justice, and pretexts; you are the most tion.""-Marmont's Memoirs. unjust of men.' At the end, the Emperor From The Literary Gazzette. favorable belongings, grows up into the Little Barefoot. By Berthold Auerbach. perfect woman, nobly planned." It is [Barfuessele.] Stuttgart: Cotta. obvious that the sustained exhibition and ONE of the most noteworthy characteris-gradual development of a character require tics of the present age is its tendency to self-powers far more unusual than those needed examination. It is self-conscious, introspec- for the successful representation of its aptive, continually feeling its own pulse. Its pearance at a particular period of life; and anxiety to know all about itself has created the reader of the story may see cause to be a new branch of science statistics; and a thankful that the vivid painter of rural new branch of literature-the social novel. manners and customs is at the same time The press, the pulpit, the platform, are con- the metaphysician who has written a life of tinually engaged in telling it what it ought Spinoza. Whether indebted to his philosoto think about itself. The very historian of phical training or not, Herr Auerbach is the past is expected to connect his subject never for an instant oblivious of his keywith the present, by means of that ingenious note, which is struck in this wise in the invention, the historical parallel. Every initiatory chapter: writer of eminence must deliver his witness "Down a path between gardens, early on touching the tendencies of the times; well and good if he can felicitate the march of boy and girl from six to seven years old, are a misty autumn morning, two children, a intellect and enlarge upon the demerits of going hand in hand towards the village. the dark ages; if not the world is just as The girl, evidently the older of the two, well pleased to lament over the decay of faith carries a slate, books and copy-books under and feeling with all the gusto of a malade her arm; the boy has the same in a bag of imaginaire. It is indeed a common weakness gray linen, hanging open over his shoulders. of mankind to make the most of trifling ail- almost to the forehead, and bringing out the The girl has a cap of white drill, reaching ments and the least possible of serious disor- prominent arch of the brow; the boy has ders; hence, perhaps, the eagerness with nothing on his head. Only one step is to be which a generation in the enjoyment of un- heard, for the boy wears stout shoes, but the exampled material prosperity, turns to pic-girl is barefoot. Wherever the path allows, tures of poverty it has slightly felt, and of the children walk together, but where the mental struggles it has hardly experienced. hedges are too close, the girl always walks One great reason of the popularity of 'Herr Auerbach, which seems gradually extending to this country, is his mastery over each of these subjects of description, and his ability to combine both in the same book. He draws the life of the poor with marvellous fidelity, but the living objects of his delineations are far from belonging to the class that is said to whistle for want of thought. Little Barefoot is always thinking of something, or, if she ever ceases, Herr Auerbach himself comes forward and occupies us with two or three pages of cogitation, until his active little heroine is rested, and ready to trudge forward once again on her serious and shoeless journey. first. "A white vapor lies upon the sallow foliage of the bushes, and the haws and spindleberries, but more especially the hips, bristling on their bare stalks, have all a silvery appearance. As the children come along, the sparrows in the bushes set up a chirp and fly away in restless little troops and settle again and fix upon an apple tree in a garden, at a short distance, once more to take flight where their alighting brings down many a rustling leaf. A magpie darts from the path into a field, to the great wild pear tree where the ravens are cowering in silence; she must have told them something, for they rise on the wing and circle round the tree, one old while the lower boughs afford the others one alighting on the giddy topmost twig, good places for a view. Doubtless it con"Little Barefoot" is in fact a book of cerns them to know why the children with minute details of the outer life on the one the school-books have taken the cross way, hand, and of the evolution of character on and are going out to the village, nay, one of the other, and it is difficult to determine them flies forward like a scout, and perches which object occupies the first place in the on a pollard willow by the pool. The chilauthor's design. Little Barefoot herself, as have reached the high-road by the alders dren, however, go quietly forward till they will easily be supposed, is an orphan girl, about the pond; they cross it, and go to a who, from small beginnings, and amid un- | humble-looking house on the other side. The house is shut up, the children stand at the door and knock gently. The girl cries courageously, Father! Mother and Father! Mother!' are repeated by the boy in a more timid tone. The girl grasps the frosted latch and presses it gently; the boards creak, she listens, but nothing ensues; and now she ventures to move the latch quickly up and down; the sound dies away in the dreary space within, and no human voice answers the boy, who, with his mouth at a cranny, is again crying Father! Mother! He gazes inquiringly at his sister; while he has been looking down his breath has frozen on the door." dried is really a sin that I should be able to weep craft to see how fast Maranne spun. She herself once said, I think my John helps me to spin,' and yet she complained that she could not think of him that winter so much as had been her wont. She reproached herself on that account with being a bad mother, and complained of feeling as if her son's features were gradually becoming indistinct, as if she were forgetting all that he had done, his laughing, singing, and crying, his climbing trees and jumping over ditches. It were terrible,' she would say, if all this were to die away and nobody know any more of it,' and she would then, with visible constraint, tell Amrei everything to the least The tone of the book never varies from particular, and Amrei felt fearfully uncomfortable to hear all this said over and over that of this introduction; the latched door again of a dead man, as if he were still remains fast, the hazy pallor of the autum-alive. And again Maranne complained, It nal morning broods over these pages to their conclusion, though this is intended to be a happy one; the feet of the sister and the head of the brother remain their weakest parts respectively throughout, and, whenever the orphan pair are in a strait, the girl always goes first. Both characters are drawn with infinite skill, and it is difficult to say whether the delineation of the active self-reliance of the one, or of the feeble shiftlessness of the other, evinces the profounder knowledge of the human heart. The chief interest is, of course, concentrated apon Little Barefoot's resolute battle with the external hardships of her lot, and the slow development of her mental powersslow, at least, till an apparently hopeless attachment comes to transfigure her whole existence. There are, however, many other characters drawn with force and truth. At one period of her life, for example, Little Barefoot lives with Black Maranne, a single woman of very independent and peculiar character. The great fact in her life is the absence of her son John, who has been away more than thirty years, whose return she continually awaits with feverish expectancy, but whom Little Barefoot, in common with the whole village, knows to be dead. No one, however, dare say a word, and Little Barefoot is compelled to listen in silence to the mother's hopes and fears for the dead: "Amrei felt as if a hand were upon her throat, the spectral dead seemed everlastingly before her; the secret rested on her lips, she might utter it, and then the roof would fall in, and there would be an end of every thing.' After this we think Herr Auerbach may safely entrust his claims to the arbitration of a jury of mothers. There is one English writer of whom his works remind us somewhat forcibly-Miss Martineau. There is the same shrewd, solid, somewhat hard common sense; the same active and genuine benevolence; the same insight into character and the springs of action; the same fidelity of description and power of producing a picture from the combination of minute details. It is due to him, however, to say that his them, offer no traces of the dogmatic tone stories, so far as we are acquainted with "Amrei [i. e., Anna Maria, Little Barefoot's Christian name] was herself often afraid in the long silent winter nights when that occasionally renders the English lady's she sat and heard nothing but the drowsy books what the Latins euphemistically clucking of the fowls and the dreamy bleat- termed less agreeable. ing of the kid, and it really was like witch |