"You are come to tell me that the town of Berlin is in revolt: is it not so? I am not surprised, but they will have a terrible example to morrow to cure them of the mania of revolting."

Duroc saw that the Prince of Hatzfeld was in the worst case possible. He was convinced that the only successful advocate in his behalf would be the Princess herself; he obtained permission to introduce her, and went to fetch her. The unfortunate wife on being brought into the pressence of the man who could kill or spare her husband, had only power to throw herself at Napoleon's feet. He raised her immediately and spoke to her with the utmost kindness. Madame de Hatzfeld sobbed convulsively, and could only repeat, as it were, mechanically, Ah, Sire, my husband is innocent!" The Emperor made no answer, but went to his scrutoire and taking from it the Prince's letter, held it towards his wife in silence. She looked at the unfortunate paper, then burst into tears, and striking her forehead with her clasped hands, exclaimed, in consternation, "Oh! yes, it is his writing!"

The Emperor was affected, it appears, by the frankness which in the hour of peril acknowledged the whole truth to him; thus leaving him all the merit of the affair. He would not refuse it; but advancing to the Princess put the fatal letter into her hands, saying, with a graciousness which doubled the value of the favour, "Make what use you please of this paper, which is the only evidence against your husband; when it no longer exists, I shall have no power to condemn him ;" and he pointed to the fire which was blazing in the chimney.

The letter was burnt, and its flame was a bonfire of rejoicing for the deliverance of the Prince: I know not whether he continued grateful, but I hope so for the sake of humanity.

I have since learnt from Duroc how much the Emperor was affected by the candour of the Princess of Hatzfeld. Her profound grief entrusting entirely to his mercy had penetrated to his heart. He had feelings of humanity and affection, whatever may be said to the contrary, and stronger perhaps than may be believed.-vol. v. pp. 152-154.

Amongst the leaders who accompanied the French army to the north of Europe in the great campaign of 1806-1807, Murat held a very conspicuous place. His character for valour is well known, but few are so well acquainted with a strange hobby, which completely suppressed, whenever a paroxysm came on, all the homely suggestions of his common sense. This was his absurd military toilet: he had a little riding-cloak a-la-Polonaise, and his schapskis and his schakos, and his colbacks, and never was such a heap of nondescript, fantastic head-dresses as he had made for his use. The Princess Caroline told Madame Junot, that the price of the plumes for these fine caps alone cost in four months twenty-seven thousand francs.

During the absence of the emperor, it occurred to the family, who remained at home, that it would be wise to determine in time who was to be the successor to Napoleon, in case a cannon-ball took him off in any of the battles, in which he did not fail to expose himself. The empress wished her son, Eugene Beauharnois, to be adopted; and Madame Murat did not fail to set up preten

sions for her branch of the family. Junot, who had been always very distant with her majesty, was sent for by Josephine, who endeavoured to engage him in favour of her son: but Junot was ever staunch in his preference for Murat.

A great deal is said of the promise afforded by a child, Prince Louis, the eldest son of Queen Hortense. This child afterwards died of the croup in Holland. The emperor had been much attached to this boy; and frequently devoted hours of his time to narrations calculated to interest his favourite. A beautiful scene, founded on one of these occasions, is related by the duchess. One day, at St. Cloud, the emperor began to relate the tragic story of the burning of the ship L'Orient. The young prince, who was sitting on the knee of the empress, got down, in the midst of the story, and, placing himself opposite Napoleon, fixed upon him his large blue eyes, which were animated with a strong expression of interest. Napoleon's talent for narration was quite wonderful; and it was not surprising, that, when in the vein, he should have fascinated the young auditor. The story, in this instance, as we have already stated, was that of a naval battle; and the fire of his words, observes the duchess, seemed to bring to the ears of his hearers, the roaring of the waves, the thunder of the cannon, and the groans of the dying. "He placed you," she continues, "on the deck of a vessel, the planks of which, stained with blood, and covered with dead bodies, were already crackling under the action of fire, which sent its thousand tongues, of every diversity of colours, bursting through the hatchways, and climbing in serpentine wreaths along the yards and up the masts. This vessel, which, but a few hours before, rode in her pride, commanding the anchorage of Aboukir, and presenting at her forecastle above five hundred human faces, all full of energy and life, was now a desert; for, whoever of her crew had not been brought down by the enemy's cannon, had hastened to escape a certain horrible death, by throwing himself into the sea to swim ashore. man only remained there, standing with arms crossed upon his large breast, his dress bathed in blood, and his face black with powder and smoke. He looked with deep sorrow upon another man, lying at the foot of the main mast, with both his legs fractured; breathing still, but losing his blood and life, without complaint: nay, thanking God for calling him from this world, and raising his dying eye to the republican banner of France, which still floated over his head. At some paces from him was a boy, about fourteen years of age, dressed in a blue jacket, without any mark of distinction; a small sword was by his side, and two pistols were fixed in his belt. He looked upon the dying man with an expression of despair, blended with resignation, which impressed the conviction that he also had done with life. This vessel was L'Orient, the admiral-ship of the expedition to Egypt; the dying man was her captain, Casabianca; the youth was his son.

"Take this child,' said the captain to the lieutenant, save yourself and him, and leave an old sailor, reduced to the value of a damaged cartouche, to die alone.'

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Keep your distance!' said the young hero, and save yourself: for me-this is my place; I will not leave my father.'

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My son,' said the dying man, casting upon his noble child a look which expressed all the happiness the human heart is capable of conceiving, my son, I command you to go.'

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"At this moment a frightful crash evinced the mastery of the devouring element; the timbers of the deck became burning hot. The lieutenant started forward to seize the youth, who, présenting one of his pistols, threatened to lay him at his feet if he attempted to touch him. It is my duty to stay here, and I will stay,' he exclaimed; 'go you may heaven protect you! but you have no time to lose; then, laying himself down beside his father, and throwing his arms round him, he added, bless me, my father!" "These were the last words the lieutenant heard; he jumped into the sea and swam towards the shore, which was but two hundred toises distant; (For,' said the emperor, Admiral Brueys, stupid fellow! had crippled all his movements by fighting so close inland') but he had not made ten strokes towards it before L'Orient blew up with a tremendous explosion. He was saved by assistance from shore,' added the emperor, and came to head-quarters; and it was he who related to us the sublime filial devotion of the young Casabianca. What have I to do in this world,' said he, in reply to his father's earnest entreaties to him to save himself: 'I shall lose you; and the navy is dishonoured!' He was a noble child; and I am proud to think that he was related to me.'

"Meanwhile, it was curious to observe the countenance of the young Napoleon. He kept his large blue eyes fixed upon the emperor with an expression of anxiety it is impossible to describe; and when his uncle ceased speaking, he came to him, and climbed upon his knee; saying, Are you quite sure that is all true?' "Why do you wish to know?' said the emperor.

"Because I shall pray to God for that little boy and his papa,' replied the young prince.

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The emperor was affected, and tenderly embraced his nephew, saying, You are a brave, good boy;' then, setting him down, his eye followed his playful movements with all a father's solicitude he felt that this child was his hope. The empress was very happy in such moments.

The battle of Friedland, so famous in the annals of French victories, was quite unexpected; and it has been observed that Napoleon showed signs of exhilaration upon obtaining it, such as he scarcely ever displayed on similar occasions before. In one of these fits of jollity, he called for the bread of the people. This food was made of very bad rye flour, and was so indifferently made as to be full of long straws, and, in every respect, was truly a most detest

able material of consumption. "Never mind," said Napoleon, "it is what the soldiers eat:" and from that moment the ryebread of the Russian peasantry became a luxury throughout the army. This war ended in the treaty of Tilsit, which was signed in a chamber built on a raft; and, it is well known, that, when the the emperor Alexander approached to write his signature, in the presence of Napoleon, he grew pale, and trembled. Madame Junot entertained Alexander, in 1814, at her house; and, she states, that, in alluding to the meeting at Tilsit, he said, "I stepped upon the raft, quite determined to sustain my dignity in my deportment towards the man whose treatment of the King of Prussia was, in my opinion, violently unjust. I intended to do much for my unfortunate friend, and much also for my own people; but, scarcely had I seen Napoleon, scarcely had he spoken, before I was overcome." "

Prussia, it is scarcely necessary to state, was a party, and a very unfortunate one, to the treaty of Tilsit. By it she lost four millions and a half of subjects; by it she was obliged to open military roads into the heart of her remaining possessions; and her dominions thus dwindled into a parallelogram of merely one hundred and eighty leagues on the coast of the Baltic, whilst its breadth was no more than forty.

In this volume Madame speaks of the amours of Napoleon; and the earliest overtures respecting the divorce of Josephine are also mentioned here for the first time It concludes with a remarkable account of a fruitless attempt, on the part of Napoleon, to establish a reconciliation between himself and his brother Lucien. The dialogue which ensued places the character of Lucien in an exalted light. They met at Mantua; and the Emperor, unfolding a map of Europe, desired his brother to choose any kingdom he pleased, and that he (Napoleon) would engage, on the honour of a brother, to secure the same to Lucien. The latter told his brother plainly, that his principles were not changed, and that what he was in the curule chair on the 18th Brumaire, that he was at the moment in which he stood beside the Emperor of France. "I do not sell myself," said Lucien with enthusiasm. "Hear me, my brother, listen to me; for this is an important hour to both of us. I will never be your prefect. If you give me a kingdom, I must rule it according to my own notions, and, above all, in conformity with its wants. The people whose chief I may be, shall have no cause to execrate my name. They shall be happy and respected; not slaves, as the Tuscans and all the Italians are. You yourself cannot desire to find in your brother a pliant sycophant, who for a few soft words would sell you the blood of his children; for a people is after all but one large family, whose head will be held responsible by the King of Kings for the welfare of all its members.

The Emperor frowned, and his whole aspect proclaimed extreme dissatisfaction.

Why, then, come to me?" said he, at last, angrily; " for if you are obstinate, so am I, and you know it; at least as obstinate as you can be. Humph! Republic! You are no more thinking of that than I am; and besides, what should you desire it for? You are like Joseph, who bethought himself the other day of writing me an inconceivable letter, coolly desiring I would allow him to enter upon kingly duties. Truly nothing more would be wanting than the re-establishment of the papal tribute." And shrugging his shoulders, he smiled contemptuously.

"And why not," said Lucien, "if it conduced to the national interests? It is an absurdity, I grant; but if it was beneficial to Naples, Joseph would be quite right in insisting upon it."

Napoleon became angry, and asked Lucien why he came to meet him, and precipitately said-" You ought to obey me as a father, the head of your family; and by heaven you shall do as I please!" But Lucien calmly told him that he was no subject of Napoleon's, and would never bow his head to the iron yoke of such a man. After a long and dubious silence, the Emperor sommoned sufficient calmness to say, "You will reflect on all that I have told you, Lucien; night brings counsel. To-morrow I hope to find you more reasonable as to the interests of Europe, at least, if not your own. Good bye, and a good night to you, my brother."

Lucien grasped the hand of his brother and exclaimed, "Good bye, and a good night to you, my brother. Adieu!" "Till tomorrow," exclaimed Napoleon: but Lucien shook his head, fled the room, and entering his carriage, ordered his postillion to get out of Mantua as speedily as possible. The brothers did not meet afterwards until Napoleon encountered adversity. It is well known that Lucien never forgave Napoleon for destroying the republic. He addressed him once, it appears, in the following manner:-" You are determined to destroy the republic!" exclaimed the enraged Lucien; "well, assassinate her, then;-mount your throne over her murdered remains, and those of her children-but mark well what one of those children predicts. This empire, which you are erecting by force, and will maintain by violence, will be overthrown by violence and force, and you yourself will be crushed, thus!" and seizing a screen from the mantel-piece, he crushed it impetuously in his hand, which trembled with rage; then, as if still more distinctly to mark his resentment, he took out his watch, dashed it on the ground, and stamped upon it with the heel of his boot, repeating: "Yes-crushed, ground to powder-thus."

This is one of the most interesting of the volumes which have yet appeared, and it does great credit to the talents and literary skill of the Duchess D'Abrantes.