what it was to have scarcely any human friend on whom she could depend for advancing her sons in the career of worldy distinction; and who, with her young family around her, had experienced all the anxieties of being driven from her native country, and cast upon a world of strangers-to her there must have appeared but an uncertain foundation for confidence in the sudden and unprecedented exaltation of her sons. And then, "if reverses should come!"-who can wonder, with this experience so deeply impressed upon her memory, that her imagination should have been haunted with apprehensions, which in their mode of exhibition appeared to those who were but superficial observers, something like the manifestations of an amusing kind of mental aberration. Under these impressions she is said to have replied to those who remonstrated with her for her parsimony,- "Who knows but I may one day have to provide bread for all these kings!"

But this peculiarity of Madame Letitia's can the more easily be forgiven, when it is remembered how faithful and unceasing were the efforts she employed for serving the interests of her sons; and especially how liberal were her offers of assistance when the tide of fortune had set against them. When all her sons except one were seated on thrones, she was unceasing in her applications to the most powerful of them, on behalf of Lucien. On being one day told by Napoleon, that she loved Lucien more than she did the rest of her family,The child,' she replied, 'of whom I am the most fond, is always the one that happens to be the most unfortunate.' To the truth of this assertion Napoleon, a few years after, bore ready and ample testimony."

Having alluded to Madame Letitia's prominent failing, it would be unjust not to add, that she took delight in offices of kindness. Often called on to solicit her son to confer a favour, or repair an injury, she was happy whenever her exertions were crowned with success, and would herself hasten to announce to the parties the result of her application on their behalf.

"On being informed by Josephine of the arrest of the Duke d'Enghien, she flew to the Tuileries, where she made use of all the authority over the First Consul which a mother might be supposed to possess, and even threw herself on her knees, imploring mercy for the unfortunate prince. She was highly dissatisfied with Napoleon's treatment of the Pope at Fontainebleau, and would say to her brother, Cardinal Fesch, "Your nephew, by pursuing this course, will ruin himself, and us too. He should stop where he is: by grasping too much, he will lose all. I have my alarms for the whole family, and think it right to provide against a rainy day!"*

After Napoleon had been banished to Elba, his mother with a few attendants followed him, and took up her residence there; but on his escape she removed to Rome, where the remainder of her life was spent. From the earliest period of his reverses, the mother's heart, with all its warmest affections, became especially centred in the son. She had often reproved him for his pride and ambition in the days of his prosperity, and at that time she was perhaps the only friend in existence from whose lips he heard the truth; but from the time of his overthrow at Waterloo, to the day of his *Court and Camp of Buonaparte.

death, her true woman's heart never swerved from this one object of all her deepest and most absorbing interests. Again and again she offered him all that she possessed in the world, to assist in the re-establishment of his affairs. "For me," said Napoleon, in his last exile, when memories of the past so often filled his mind, "my mother would without a murmur have doomed herself to live on brown bread. Loftiness of sentiment still reigned paramount in her breast; pride and noble ambition were not yet subdued by avarice."

"Of all that Napoleon had said at St. Helena respecting his mother, Count Las Cases, on his return to Europe, witnessed the literal fulfiment. No sooner had he detailed the story of the ex-emperor's situation, than the answer returned by the courier was, that her whole fortune was at her son's disposal. In October, 1818, she addressed an affecting appeal to the allied sovereigns, assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle, on his behalf: 'Sires,' said she, 'I am a mother, and my son's life is dearer to me than my own. In the name of Him whose essence is goodness, and of whom your imperial and royal majesties are the image, I entreat you to put a period to his misery, and to restore him to liberty. For this, I implore God and I implore you, who are his vicegerents on earth. Reasons of state have their limits; and posterity, which gives immortality, adores above all things the generosity of conquerors.' Again, in 1819, Napoleon having expressed his determination not to permit the visits of an English physician, and his desire to have the company of a Catholic priest, his mother cheerfully defrayed the expenses of sending to St. Helena a mission, both physical and spiritual, of

persons selected by her brother Cardinal Fesch, with the approbation of the Pope." *

This remarkable woman lived until nearly her eightieth year, still retaining much of her beauty of person, and extraordinary vigour of mind. Those who have studied her admirable contour of features, in that beautiful work of art, her bust, by Canova, will not readily forget the purity and dignity by which they are characterized; and those who study the development of feeling and affection, when associated with the sterner and grander attributes of human nature, will regard it as no mean tribute to the dignity of women, to have been loved and honoured as Napoleon Buonaparte loved and reverenced his mother.

*Court and Camp of Buonaparte.

XI.

THE MOTHER OF COWPER.

THE vidence of what can be done, and of what has been accomplished by maternal influence, would scarcely appear under the most striking aspect, without some evidence on the other hand of how much the character and destiny of even highly gifted men may suffer from the want of a mother's influence, and perhaps still more from the abuse of it.

It is a melancholy thing to contemplate this want under any circumstances, but especially so where the naturally sensitive or morbid tendency of the character renders it shrinking and averse from the interference of man; and yet where it is far removed, by the severing of maternal ties, from the more tender sympathy, and hence more acceptable interference of woman.

Such must always be the case to some extent when a boy is deprived of this natural outlet for his feelings by the death of his mother. A girl can much more readily find other friends and confidants. From whatever quarter tenderness and sympathy approach her, she will learn, from the very necessity of her own being, not only to receive them with a cordial wel