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to Louis the Sixteenth, his intention has been to make people forget how devoted he and his father have been to the emperor Napoleon when powerful, &c. Walter Scott has written for the English government, from sources furnished by the government which followed that of the emperor Napoleon. The abbé de Montgaillard is an avowed enemy of the revolution and of Napoleon: the memoirs of Fouché are apocryphal, adjudged to be such by the courts of justice. Tribeaudeau, convention-man and Thermidorian, strives to attribute to Napoleon steps the most retrograde, which the terror of the convention and the semi-royal terror that followed upon the 9th of Thermidor, had caused revolutionary France to make. Napoleon found France in a delirium; he endeavored to preserve her from the anarchy of 1793, and from the counter-revolution; he floated with France in the middle of the wrecks of all parties, seeking to avoid all the rocks, making himself the slave of no party, in order to avoid making himself the enemy of all the others; obeying that, which in his conscience he believed to be the wants and wishes of France, which desired equality and liberty compatible with civilization. She felt, like himself, that these benefits (which we see nowhere but in this new world), would be enjoyed only with a general peace-at the end of that interminable war which had necessitated his dictatorship, never of a tyrannical character, but called by the foreign enemies and men of a superficial mind, the imperial despotism. That Napoleon had well understood the national will, is sufficiently proved to posterity by his miraculous return from Elba. But the English cabinet has always opposed the cessation of this despotism in fanning the war, which obliged Napoleon to adopt all possible forms to reconcile the governments of continental Europe with France. All that Napoleon has done, his nobility, which was not feudal, his family relations, his legions of honor, his new kingdoms &c., he was obliged to do; the English have always forced him to do that which he has done, so that he might place himself in apparent harmony with all the governments which he had conquered, and which he wished

to wrest from the seductions of England. The struggle has been long; England has derived advantage from the character of the emperor Alexander, who gave way;* from that of the emperor of Austria; and the oligarchy of Vienna, of Moscow, coalesced themselves with that of London. They triumphed at last over Napoleon, over France, in sacrificing the future interests of the peoples, and the reigning houses of Europe, who had ended in accommodating themselves to the constitutions in which the peoples and the kings would have found their advantages. Some hundred aristocratic families alone would have experienced some loss for the moment; and they would have found a just indemnity in the favor of their prince, in the public welfare, which would have been the result of an order of things, ordained by the degree of civilization to which we have attained. The good people of Germany have been misled, and England, at the moment of succumbing to the continental system, rose again by throwing down her enemy through the hands of the nations and kings that ought to have considered Napoleon and France (as things then stood) as the saviours, the moderators of the destinies of Europe, longing for legal equality, constitutional liberty, religious freedom, and a permanent peace, independent of the hordes of the north and the Gothic prejudices of the nobles and priests of the middle ages. Napoleon had taken the words to destroy the things he often said to me: I stand in need of yet ten years to give complete liberty. He was the scholar of Plato and the philosophers, and yet he frequently repeated: 'I do not what I wish, but that which I can do; these English force me to live from day to day. He stood in need of ten years of general peace. But I perceive that my answer is becoming a book,-I write to you without preparation, as I would speak to you. I send you, as to myself, the only documents which I acknowledge as true,the biographical articles published in Europe are dictated by ignorance or passion."

All the letters written by Joseph to the same correspondent, contain the repeated expressions of the same views

The original is: Alexandre, qui s'est fatigué.
The original las, qui avaient fini par s'accorder. Probably the writer of the letter meant auraiesi.
Aux termes où elle (la France)

en était,

Napoléon avait pris les mots pour détruire les choses.

Ces Anglais me forcent à vivre au jour le jour.

and the reiterated statements of Napoleon's words regarding the necessity of doing things which were not in his "system," because the English forced him thus to act. The sad necessity in which he considered himself placed, to vivre au jour le jour, seems to have been frequently expressed in these very words by him to his older brother. The reader will recollect the emperor's words when urged by the Poles, after the defeat of the Prussians, in 1806, to re-establish the independence of Poland. "I am no god," he said, "I am not doing that which I would, but only that which I can do." Joseph told us once that several times, when the emperor had severely and even passionately rated some persons, he would say, when alone with his brother, "I must thus, always wear a mask. If I do not show myself farouche, on such occasions, everything would go wrong." Another time Joseph told us that at dinner, the conversation had turned on the subject of ambition and glory. Joseph had stoutly maintained that he cared nothing for all this, and that true happiness consisted in the peaceful enjoyment of life, remote from the anxieties of ambition. "What is it to me, Joseph had observed, that people mention my name after I am gone?" Napoleon took umbrage at this, and after the company had dispersed, informed his brother that he did not desire him to repeat such discourse. All that Joseph had said might be very well for a philosopher, but that Napoleon's duty was to conquer victories, and that, in accordance he must develop the most ambitious spirit. "I want men to consider it their highest glory to die on the battle-field," he said. At some future period your views may obtain a proper place."

These things are mentioned here, simply as facts. The historian and statesman must weigh and probe them, as, indeed, they must do with this entire letter, which at any rate is a remarkable document, even if it be taken in its narrowest possible limits; namely, as the expression of those views with which the brother of Napoleon, who had been the recipient of the emperor's confidence, desired to impress an individual with whom Joseph was pleased to correspond.

To examine and criticise this letter,

would require a work of commentaries on the whole career of the emperor. Nothing of the kind can be possibly expected here. We close our paper, adding but one remark on an expression of Joseph's, which, even in an off-hand letter, seems to be surprising. The writer says: Napoleon was the scholar of Plato and the philosophers (était élère de Platon et des philosophes). We do not understand this sentence, even if it were meant in the most hyperbolical sense. A scholar of Plato? Of what work of Plato? Of his Republic? Napoleon took, as is known, every occasion of expressing his bond fide detestation and hatred of the "idéologues," as he called, in a bunch, all philosophers; and Plato, assuredly was idéologue, if any one was. In one of his letters to Joseph, then king of Naples, and which is published in the very collection from which the foregoing translation has been made, he distinctly and very positively enjoins his brother, to discountenance all hommes de lettres. gens d'esprit, and philosophers; telling him that they are nothing but coquettes. Napoleon was so positive on this point, that he may be said to have established a sort of school in this sense. who has lived any time in France can have helped observing what a deeprooted contempt for legistes (lawyers), philosophers, and orators, pervades the army and all true Napoleonists. common dinner conversation with an officer is almost sure to bring it out. It was so at the time of Napoleon, and has ever since been so. The complaints of the arrogance of the army were universal in the reign of Napoleon. It had become an intolerable military aristocracy. Napoleon ended with falling into an idolatry of power, and considering the profession of the soldier le plus noble de tous les métiers, as he calls it in one of his letters; he forgot or he had never a true perception of the simple fact, that of all the mighty things, the mightiest, the sovereigns of the earth, are Will, Love, and Thought.* He acknowledged the first. Did he acknowledge the two others of the triumvirate?

No one

A

Louis the Fourteenth was, at least in the shrewdness of perceiving the power of the sword and the pen, his s"perior. He took great care to conciliate the latter.

Since this article was written, the author has met with the following passage in Mr. Crowe's "History of the Reigns of Louis XVIII. and Charles X.," London 1854: Bat the more perfectly France became organized and disciplined for war and domination, the more unfit

CAN

THE OLD SCULPTOR AND HIS PUPIL.

MAN we wonder Donatello's eyes were dim with blissful tears,
When, a thing of perfect beauty, stood the dream of earlier years,
Crowning all his wildest longings-stifling e'en his lightest fears?

Waking wild ideal yearnings, weary years the dream had lain
Gath'ring ever strength and beauty in the artist's haunted brain,
Till excess of wondrous sweetness made it almost seem like pain.

And, at last, its fit expression in some outward type it sought-
Beauty thrilling all the pulses, lonely days and nights he wrought,
And full well the Inner Vision had the pallid marble caught.

Calm it stood a statued image of the young impassioned saint,
On whose mortal beauty lingered not the shade of mortal taint,-
To whose mortal eyes heaven's vision seemed no longer dim and faint.

And the passing shadows flitting lightly o'er the earnest face,
On each youthful, godlike feature left a strangely living trace,

'Till it seemed St. George was standing in the passive marble's place.

Yet, methinks, o'er something nobler might those wayward shadows glide,
On a beauty, higher, rarer, well contented might they bide,
When another, rapt, before it, stood by Donatello's side.

He was one among his pupils, scarce to manhood-summer grown,

All his flowers in Fame's bright chaplet were, as yet, but buds unblown;
Yet the master felt their blooming would be brighter than his own.

For there seemed around his forehead and within his eye to glow
Visions far more deep and wondrous than e'er sculptor's hand might know;
All too grand for outward semblance were thy visions, Angelo!

And behind the noblest figure, born beneath thy potent hand,
Still in wondrous, mocking beauty, shall a something nobler stand:—
Shadowy, as the forms upspringing 'neath some dread magician's wand.

Then upon that lofty forehead, Care's rude fingers had not wrought,—
Not as yet his iron sternness had those proud, dark features caught;-
Dreaming boy was he who stood there, rapt in deep and silent thought.—

"Nay-what think'st thou ?" said the master, "seems it not almost divine?" In his eye the glow of genius seemed with clearer light to shine,As he answered, "Only one thing does it lack,-this work of thine."

did it become to establish its influence peaceably and permanently over that Europe which it had conquered. For, thanked be Providence and civilization, there are no rights which have been so modified and curtailed as those of conquest. Of old the victor might make of the vanquished his slave, and partition his territory to new holders. But the days of exterminating a people, of enslaving or dispossessing them, are past. The race and the soil remain, and the victors must devise some means of satisfying the wants, and even the pride of the vanquished; for the rule of brute intimidation is far too ineffectual and costly. Had the French Revolution achieved wide conquest, however turbulent and irregular its rule, in foreign countries, it would at least have found friends amongst the classes it emancipated, and by degrees it would have succeeded in the formation of allied States, republics like itself. But a military chief and an embryo emperor, commanding the French soldiers, and through them master of the State, saw or would see nothing in other nations but monarch like himself. With these alone he would negotiate-these alone conciliate or court. Napoleon, from character as well as position, was fitted to enact this part of the mere crowned head. His early experience made him acquainted with all that was abhorrent and impuissant in Democracy. He thus learnt to ignore the existence of a people altogether. His political optics were so formed as exclusively to discern princes and courts and armies. He neither knew what the word people meant, nor the worth nor the power which it implied.

"One thing lacks it!"-did not matchless stand that form of youthful grace?
Could more firm and high endeavor leave round lips of marble trace?
Could more pure and saint-like passion light that pale and upturned face?—

Ne'er a fault could he discover there, to mar its perfect claim,
Though anew he searched and pondered often as again there came,-
Grown each year a heavier burden, tales of Buonarotti's fame.

And, in sooth, a heavy burden it had grown to be that day,
When he knelt beside the pallet where the pale old sculptor lay-
Waiting patiently the moment death should bear his soul away.

Patient yet, within his spirit seemed some vexing thought to bide,
For amid his dying murmurs,-"What lacks it?" faint he sighed,
"Only speech!" said Buonarotti.-With a smile the old man died.
"Only speech!" O mighty spirit! who through time didst nobly send,
Thoughts whose grandeur lower natures rather guess than comprehend,-
With what earthly mould or being e'er may perfect utterance blend!

All our loftiest thoughts and visions seem, for want of language, lost;-
Longingly we read the story of the tongues of flame which crossed,
Lips of fervid Gallileans on the day of Pentecost.

All the Holy Spirit tells us we may never hope to teach,-
Little of the heart's affection lips or eyes can ever reach;-

More than Donatello's statue do our stammering tongues need speech.

PROFESSOR PHANTILLO.

A ROMANOE OF THE WATER OURE.

CHAPTER I.

PROFESSOR PHANTILLO was, and I

presume still is, an astrologer. His advertisements, which ornamented the newspapers a year ago, told the public in what esteem he was held by the kings and potentates of the old world, who consulted him on all important occasions with astonishing success. Why this favorite of royalty should wish to establish himself in the shire-town of Bearbrook in New England-or why his august disciples should suffer him to come, if he did-were questions to which the advertisements aforementioned afforded no response.

The particular service rendered by this illustrious stranger to my uncle, Major Wherrey, being rather paternal than astrological in its character, need be preceded by no inquiry concerning the claims of that occult science which yet fods many dupes in the midst of our basted enlightenment.

Now, ny sticle, Major Wherrey, was a

very thin gentleman, with queer little eyes and still droller mouth-not at all like the engraving of the picture in possession of the Bearbrook High Art Association, which serves (or should serve) as frontispiece to the history. A constitutional shyness-or, as he chose to call it, an elegant fastidiousness-prevented my uncle from relishing the society of ladies; so that his forty-second birthday found him in celibacy, and chambered in the city of New York.

Of the particular nature of the festivities that distinguished this annual commemoration, I am unfortunately ignorant -never having been invited to assist thereat; and, as the present narrative has only to do with facts, I decline consulting my fancy, or even the doctrine of probabilities, for a sketch of the occasion.

It is sufficient to conclude the introductory chapter (which, in my opinion, should be devoted to telling the reader who people are-whether they figure immediately or not) with a statement to the following effect. The morning

succeeding the Major's party found him prostrate and headachy upon a sofa, endeavoring to extract some comfort from the columns of a weekly journal.

"The very thing, by Jove!" exclaimed my uncle, as he read an advertisement headed "Granville County Water-Cure." "The very thing! I'll go immediately!"

CHAPTER II.

A WRITER Who is concise and intelligible in the first chapter, has surely earned the right to a little episodical description in the second-of which allowed title advantage is thus taken.

A water-cure! Who does not remember the mixture of surprise and incredulity, with which he first heard the name! What sexagenarian invalid does not recall the glow caused by the first reading of Bulwer's panegyric upon the new remedial agent! An unhappy man he was, if his literary cravings happened to take him to the Medical Reviews after having perused this delicious publication. In their conservative pages, he found the professors of the new art placed in the same category with the proprietors of all-healing sarsaparillas or vegetable pills.

The short dream of a perfect restoration to all bodily and mental vigor-that fair palace of perpetual health-that the brilliant novelist had conjured up, was suddenly assailed by the harsh words "humbug," "self-delusion," "quackery," and such other vituperative missives as the professional batteries afforded.

Yet, in spite of the extravagant laudation of enthusiasts, and the vigorous attacks of opponents, the establishments for the practice of the new system have steadily increased among us; till the discovery of Preissnitz, with certain nodifications, is almost universally allowed to be of service in many cases of chronic disorder.

It is hardly just, however, to attribute the number and thriving condition of the Hydropathic institutions by which we are surrounded, to the wonders wrought by the simple agency of water. A great part of their success is doubtless owing to the love of that easy, independent intercourse with one another, which crowds Saratoga and Newport, and has made the "boarding-house" an American institution. There is always an excuse for passing a few weeks at a Water

Cure, which must be inconveniently stretched to apply to Fabiari's, or the Mountain House at Catskill. To the former we are driven, not by inclination, but misfortune. A gentleman's business connections have no cause to complain -a lady's household duties may with propriety be left to take care of themselves when the great necessity of health demand their absence.

There are other circumstances that make these establishments a favorite retreat for a large class of our restless population. The moderate cost of such a sojourn in some pleasant part of the country, in comparison with a visit to the Lakes or Niagara-the complete absolution from the daily penance of dressing-and, above all, the perfect equality in the state and position of each occupant-are, to the great mass of migratory citizens, very positive advantages.

"Why, the fact is," says young Wilkinson (he who lost so heavily a few years ago, by the failure of a noted firm in this city), "the fact is, that at Newport, where I formerly passed the season, I should now be positively nobody! There are plenty of fellows whose kids and broadcloth, not to speak of turnouts, it would be impossible for me to equal, whereas, by going through the water cure, I can flourish and flirt in dressing-gown and slippers, and get up quite as pleasant an understanding with a damsel in a calico morning-gown, with hair damp and dishevelled by frequent ablutions, as if we were mutually booted and laced to the most orthodox pattern."

The recent visit of my uncle to one of the most famous of these establishments, has given me a particularity of information concerning the details of watercure life, that, under other circumstances could only be attained by a personal residence. It has always been the habit of Major Wherrey to keep a daily diary to the end, that should be by some unforseen event blaze into notoriety, there may not be wanting the materials for a biography sufficiently copious to satisfy his warmest admirer. A great amount of blotted manuscript was recently presented me by the good gentleman, accompanied by the same friendly permission with which people who have been restored to health by some elixir or cordial, conclude their certificatesnamely, that they might be put to any use likely to benefit the proprietor.

From these inky fountains, the stream of this narrative derives its source

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