The continued bombardment, besides demolishing every house in Silistria, had reduced the fort of Arab tabia to such a mere heap of ruins, that it could not have held out for four-and-twenty hours longer. Yet so discomfited were the enemy by their last repulse, that on the following day they raised the siege and beat a precipitate retreat. Mussa Pacha, the gallant defender, was unfortunately killed by the fragment of a shell, almost the last that was fired against the devoted town.

This reverse at Silistria, coupled with the adverse issue of negotiations with Vienna, led to the evacuation of the Principalities by the Russian forces, who shortly after hastily abandoned Bucharest, and retreated, exhausted, dispirited, and demoralized, upon the line of the Pruth, retaining, however, the strongholds of Matchin, Isaktchi, and Tultcha; so that, in fact, the possession of the Lower Danube is in their hands, the communication of Austria with the Black Sea is interrupted, and the navigation closed.

Though, as a contemporary has observed:

The cumbrous machine of the Russian army has broken down when brought into active working, and the inexhaustible resources, the worldfamed diplomacy, and the troops to be counted by millions, are not likely to protect their owner from bankruptcy and defeat. On the other hand, the Western Powers have as yet struck no successful blow; a spell seems to hang over all their efforts; and even though Sebastopol and Helsingfors may fall, it is likely that the humiliation of the Czar will be chiefly due to the failure of his own movements, the depreciation of Russian currency, the stoppage of trade in Riga and Odessa, and the distress which must visit every class from the failure of their accustomed support. Yet what has been gained during the war is immense. Whether individual plans have been successful or fruitless whether the predictions and prophecies have been fulfilled or falsified-yet a comparison between the position which Russia held twelve months ago, and that which she holds now, is enough to show that the year has not been spent in vain. Russia may be unassailable, but she may perish in her

assaults on others.

We have now brought our summary down to the departure of the Anglo-French expedition from Varna; from that period the record of the war becomes the history of the day.

On the 4th September, 600 vessels sailed from Varna, bearing the combined army of

same time intelligence was received by the commanders of a signal victory obtained by Schamyl at Tiflis, over the Russians under Prince Bebutoff. They lost on this occasion many men and horses, seven guns, 3000 tents, all their ammunition, baggage, provisions, and retreated in some disorder from Kutais and Kars to Tiflis.

On the 14th September, 58,000 men were safely landed at Eupatoria, about forty-five miles N.W. of Sebastopol. They subsequently advanced some distance inland without meeting with any opposition.

The place of debarkation had many advantages. It is a small town, containing only 4000 inhabitants, weakly defended by a garrison of about 12,000 men, and in no condition to resist an invasion such as this. The commanders had intended in the first place to have thrown up entrenchments sufficiently strong to secure the place; but having experienced no resistance, the troops marched at once towards their destination. In this march they proceeded for about eleven miles, along a slip of land, having on the left the salt lake, Sasik, and the sea on their right. The coast is unfavorable for constructing a place of arms; one therefore was established nearer Sebastopol.

The country traversed is fertile, and well supplied with water by three rivers, the Alma, the Katcha, and the Balbek. On the left, or southern bank of the latter stream, the first obstacles encountered were the outworks recently thrown up by the Russians, and an old star fort. Having surmounted these, the allies found themselves in possession of the high ground commanding the rear of the defences on the northern shore of the inlet, and they were scarcely adapted to resist a strong

attack.

As the Black Sea expedition was departing from Varna for the Crimea, the Baltic fleet, or the greater part of it, received orders to "bear up" for England, all further intention of striking a decisive blow in the North having for the present season been given up.

It will have been seen from this brief and necessarily imperfect sketch, that the war thus undertaken by Russia was purely an aggressive war; was preceded by wanton provocation and by territorial encroachment; that the occupation and assumed protectorate of the Principalities by the Czar is at an end; that his claim to the protection of the members of the Greek Church in Turkey is at least suspended: and that England and France retain possession of the Black Sea,

Amiable revolutionist, ever young, smiling, and

obliging, De Remusat is rather a great literary

name than that of a distinguished politician or statesman. He is especially a man of distinction in saloons and in academies; always ready to be enthusiastic in the cause of that which is worthy, that which is noble; redolent of those sweet and charming things which the French wit and the taste of our fathers bequeathed us, considering it proper and useful that governments that infringed, no matter in how small an amount, upon free discussion, should be duly lectured; willingly neglecting all the great interests of the country, merely that his abstract theories might triumph, yet never mixing himself up with the crowd of common agitators and banqueters; in one word, playing the part of a deputy only in an ingenuous and polite language, with honesty and white gloves!

The antithesis is worthy of Bilboquet. It reminds us of a story told of Louis XVIII., who never wore gloves, whilst the Duke of Orleans (afterwards Louis Philippe) was never without his hands being covered. The two were one day closeted, discussing the manner in which the young princes of the Orleans family should be educated. Louis was for private tutors, the duke for public universities; and as the discussion grew warm, the king pulling the duke's gloves by the tips, succeeded in drawing them off and placing them on the table, whereupon the duke put them on again without interrupting the conversation, while the king set himself to work just as steadily to remove them. The ancien régime did not wear gloves indoors, the fashion was introduced from England. Talking of the princes of the Orleans family, we are told that the Duke d'Aumale is engaged upon a history of the Condés, whose curious and important archives he in

herited.

Louis Philippe and his son, the young Duke of Orleans, appear, from specimens of their correspondence given by Dr Véron, to have been fond of introducing a few words of English, just as many English affect to interlard their correspondence and conversation with French. Some of these little sentences are characteristic specimens of the AngloFranc language. We have, for example, Louis Philippe writing á propos of the Spanish marriages, "If so, then tel it be so.' And in the same letter we have "pugnant with evil." We do not select these; they are the only two. The young Duke of Orleans is made to write " tout lemonde est very good

Most likely the mistakes are

Louis Philippe, we are told by the same authority, never read a French newspaper. The political appreciation by the English papers of his government alone excited his curiosity, and often aroused his indignation. "What would it be," said one of his ministers to him one day, "if you were to read the French papers?"

The Citizen King appears to have been very absent at times. M. Martin du Nord was presenting one day, at Eu, a batch of justices and solicitor-generals who had been recently appointed, and came to be sworn in. Among them was M. de Montfort, first cousin to M. Laplagne, minister of finances, who had been appointed solicitor-general at Nimes. On advancing towards the king-"Well," inquired Louis Philippe, "how is the cold ?"

M. de Montfort, astonished at the interest taken by the king in his health, answered that it was nothing. "Eh! eh!" said the king, "I was frightened it might degenerate into whooping cough." Louis Philippe thought that he was speaking to Blache, the medical attendant on the princes, and was anxious about a slight cold which the Count de Paris was laboring under. Louis Philippe used often to repeat the words of Henry IV.: "Justice will be done to me only after my death."

Dr. Véron writes in a spirit of just appreciation of the relations of the Bourgeoisie with a first Bourgeois king:

In our opinion the Bourgeoisie is, in politics, far too restless, too capricious an element, and too easily intimidated or duped, for any government to find in it an intelligible, a durable, or a firm support. The bourgeois of Paris is, in the nineteenth century, just what he has always been; it mind; quick in detecting errors, and ever ready is always the same Gallic, penetrating, bantering to blame the faults or the follies of princes. The mind of the bourgeois of Paris is upon this point endowed with singular intuition; he foresees, he predicts, and he seldom deceives himself.

In my childhood, in the midst of the gossipnot of saloons, but of the counter-I often heard

it said at my father's, that Josephine was a providence, a protecting fairy to Napoleon, and as often was it prophesied that the divorce with Josephine would soon be the signal and the cause of incessant adversities.

During my youth, under the Restoration, the observing, judicious mind of the bourgeois of Paris, Louis XVIII., his common sense, and his prudence, discerned with just appreciation the qualities of revolution under his rule; but it was at the same and affirmed, without fear, that there could be no time predicted openly many years before 1830,

that the chivalrous, adventurous, distrustful, passionate character of Charles X., if he succeeded to the throne, would most assuredly make him lose his crown.

Neither did the bourgeois of Paris deceive himself, when he saw in the Princess Adelaide a courageous and skilful counsellor for Louis Philippe. By a combination of circumstances almost unexampled, her brother became an exile two months after her death.

It is that every thing is known, every thing is repeated in Paris; curiosity is there especially directed to the private life of princes. Their tastes, their inclinations, even their most familiar habits are studied and spied into. Upon these data the bourgeois of Paris composes, draws, lays down all the outlines, all the sinuosities, all the prominent features of the characters of those who are called upon to reign, and practical moralist as he is, he concludes from these studies to what follies, and to what faults, those whom their birth or their situation arms with supreme power, will allow themselves to be carried away.

The bourgeois of Paris is less clear sighted in 'respect to his own defects, he closes his eyes to his own evil inclinations, his capriciousness, his puerile vanity, his unreasonable exactions, as well as to all his other weaknesses.

The bourgeois of Paris, in his limited power, gives himself up to follies which become the pretext and the occasion of revolutionary days; he cries, half in fun, Vive la Charte! he shouts, still laughing, Vive la Réforme! And next day he is surprised that, answering to his call, the populace, whose brutal hand breaks every thing that it touches when it is aroused, is ready to upset all things, overthrow throne, government, and society, in the brief space of three days. Then the bourgeois of Paris becomes anxious, begins to despair, and swears at each successive revolution that he never will be caught again.

From the time of the Fronde, the bourgeois of Paris has only been the victim or the dupe of deep rascality, or of skilful ambition. Sometimes the bourgeois of Paris has allowed the camisole de force to be put on him, as in the days of la Terreur, by a Robespierre or by a Murat; sometimes he has allowed himself to be duped as by a Cardinal de Retz or a Thiers. He allowed himself to be persuaded, under the Restoration, that all his liberties were to be taken from him.

And he began to shout Vive la Charte! Under Louis Philippe, he allowed himself to be persuaded that he was living under a tyrant, and then he cried Vive la Réforme! Louis Philippe believed that his policy was repudiated, and his crown lost, when passing, the morning of the 24th of February, amid the ranks of the national guard, he no longer found in the bourgeois of Paris in uniform, gun on his shoulder, sword by his side, that enthusiasm, that devotion, which had for eighteen years upheld him on the throne. Yet power was with Louis Philippe especially modest and bourgeois. He honored and esteemed before all things family ties; he wore a round hat, and carried an umbrella; he occupied the least possible space; he took the least assuming, the least

offensive title. The king called himself King of the French; the power called itself Liberty, Public Order.

Tallemant des Réaux relates that a Spaniard, seeing the King Louis XIII. take off his hat to several persons in the court of the Louvre, said to the Archbishop of Rouen, who was by his side: "What! does your king take off his hat to his subjects?" "Yes," replied the archbishop, "he is very civil." "Oh! the king, my master, knows much better how to keep his place: be only takes off his hat to the consecrated host, and that very much against his will."

What would this Spaniard have said had he seen King Louis Philippe taking off his hat, shaking hands with the people, and singing la Marseillaise. Such condescensions availed him, with so capricious a nation, as little as the bonhommie of Louis XVI., or the chivalry of Charles X., availed his predeces

sors.

M. Casimir Périer said, upon the occasion of General Lobau superseding La Fayette as commandant of the national guard: Since we have a king citizen, we do not want a citizen king."

A characteristic anecdote is told of this Geue:al Lobau. The Count de Montalivet went at two o'clock in the morning to the General, who was in bed.

"General," said the count, "La Fayette has given in his resignation; will you accept the command of the national guard of Paris?"

"On no account."

"But we expect an insurrection to-morrow."

"Then I accept; but let me sleep now!" And now for the heroine of the fourth volume-Rachel.

It would be difficult to imagine anything more affected or fatuous than the manner in which the first appearance of this renowned actress is related. The idea of seeking for shade and solitude in a public theatre is essentially badaud-thoroughly Parisian-the apology for condescending to look towards the boards is purely Veronic. But the sight

of this clever and accomplished young actress awakened what he calls "confused memories" in the mind of this know-all-and-everything of the capital of the civilized world. "By dint of interrogating my memory," he tells us, "I realized the semblance of that

singular physiognomy playing the part of la Vendéene at the Théâtre du Gymnase; I remembered, also, a young girl, poorly dressed, coarsely shod, who, when questioned

in my presence, in the corridors of the theatre, as to what she was doing, replied to my great astonishment, in the most serious manner possible, 'Je poursuis mes études.' I detected in Mademoiselle Rachel this singular physiognomy of the Gymnase; and, that young girl, so poorly dressed, who was pursuing her studies."

There is a singular want of generosity in this reminiscence of Rachel's early days. The reputation of one whom he professes to admire so much, and to love so warmly, ought to have been dear to the publicist as the apple of his eye. But it is a trifle to the revelations which follow:

Deeply are those to be pitied who in the arts do not know how either to detest or to admire: pictures, statues, monuments, singers, or players, I detest or I admire. The young Rachel astonished me; her talent roused all my passions. I hastened away to my friend Merle, whose tastes and literary impulses were like my own, to induce him to attend the early performances of her whom I already called my little prodigy. "That child," I said to him, "when the twelve or fifteen hundred select, who constitute public opinion in Paris, shall have heard her and judged her, will be the glory and fortune of the Comédie Française."

This was the very year that Dr. Véron had left the Opera, and his active mind had nothing to busy itself with for the moment but the success of the young tragedian. According to his own account of the new monomania, it led him before asking his friends how they were when he met them, to say, "Have you seen her in Horace,' or in Andromaque? Many whom I thus addressed did not know whom I was speaking about. This used to put me in a passion. I reproached them for their ignorance, and was not even sparing of abuse. The pleasures and the joys of my summer of 1838 were," he adds, afterwards insured; my emotions as an habitue of the Théâtre Française would more than compensate me for the pleasures of the fields, the incidents and surprises of travel!”

66

At length, in the month of October, the young tragedian played nine times: the poorest receipt (Monime in "Mithridate") was 3669 francs 90 centimes. The receipts exceeded 6000 francs when she played Hermione; "it was a complete victory, an astounding triumph." "Racine and Corneille," says the enthusiastic publicist, were revived among us as in the great age of Louis XIV.; a passionate popularity encompassed the young tragedian and the old tragedy." of her obligations to Dr. Véron. He it was It is to be hoped that Rachel is duly sensible who first discovered her genius; he it was who first proclaimed it to his friend Merle and to the world at large; and he it was who chivalrously supported her débuts amidst canicular heats, and at the sacrifice of the fields and incidents of travel. that all were not so clear-sighted as Dr. It appears

Véron :

When still very young, Mademoiselle Rachel, already on the lists of the Conservatoire, solicited private lessons from an artist, justly esteemed and of known ability-M. Provost, secretary to the Comédie Française. At the sight of this poor girl, frail and delicate he said, "Child, go and sell flowers." Young Hermione took her revenge in after times for this contemptuous estimate of her rescurces made by an artist and bad prophet. The theatre was crowded, all the boxes were Rachel was playing Hermione. Enthusiastically filled with fashionable people. Mademoiselle applauded, called back with frenzy, she hastened, while the curtain was down, to fill her Greek tunic with the flowers that had been thrown on the stage; thus loaded she went up to the man who had counselled her to sell flowers, and kneeling with the most enchanting coquetry, "I have followed sell flowers. Will you buy some of me?" The your advice, M. Provost," she said; "I learned professor raised the young artist with a smile and expressed his satisfaction at having been so completely deceived.

The reputation of Mademoiselle Rachel soon extended from the arena of competent judges, and from the "fine flower" of the aristocracy to the mass of the public. Rachel in her earlier days added a success of youth and attractive beauty to her naturally

Nothing was spoken of, both in great and small publications, but of the luminous and charming star, casting its flood of light over