swear,' replied this great man, 'that I have saved the republic!' Gentlemen, I swear that you have saved the commonwealth."

He flattered the masses by words like these. The phrase, “French people," employed in some document, was objected to. He said, "I adopt it, I defend it, I proclaim it, for the reason which makes it obnoxious. Yes, it is because the name of the people is not sufficiently respected in France-because it is obscured with the rust of prejudice-because it presents an idea at which pride takes alarm and vanity revolts-because it is mentioned with contempt in the drawing rooms of the aristocrats ;it is for this very reason that I would wish-it is for this very reason that we ought to make it a duty, not only to adopt, but to elevate it, to ennoble it, and render it henceforth respectable in the eyes of ministers and dear to every heart. Privileges must have an end; but the people are eternal."

Here are two or three specimens of his dry sarcasm. A deputy moved to lay aside a motion to postpone till further inquiry the execution of some criminals. He silenced him by saying: "Were you going to be hung, sir, would you propose the adjournment of an investigation that might result in saving your life?" While the national forces were capturing forts and towns beyond the frontiers, a stickler for old forms insisted upon retaining in some decree the ancient title, "King of France and Navarre." "Would it not be well," said Mirabeau, " to add-‘And other places?" He cut short a dispute about the wording of a clause in the Constitution, thus:-"I will observe, that it would not be amiss for the National Assembly of France to speak French, and even indite in French the laws which it proposes."

We select a couple of specimens of his audacity and self-reliance. A pamphlet, charging him with designs hostile to the integrity of the Assembly, was distributed through the hall. Seizing a copy, amidst execrations, he stepped to the tribune to reply to it, thundering out as he went up the steps, "I will be borne from this place triumphant, or a corpse!" A law in regard to emigrants was under discussion. His speech against it was interrupted by exclamations. Shaking the tribune with his gesticulation, he said: "The popularity which I have aspired to, and which I have enjoyed, is not a feeble reed. It is deep in the earth that I mean to infix its roots. It shall rest upon the enduring basis of reason and liberty. Make this law if you dare. I swear never to obey it." One of his opponents was borne in triumph into the hall on the shoulders of the populace. the same time, a pamphlet was distributed on the benches, accusing Mirabeau of treason. "And me, too," exclaimed he from the tribune, “me, too, they would, some days since, have borne in triumph; and now they cry through the streets, The great conspiracy of Count Mirabeau.' I needed not this lesson to know, that there is but a step from the Capitol to the Tarpeian rock. But," stamping it under his feet, "I alone am named in this pamphlet. Let the Assembly pass to the order of the day!" Denouncing the crime and folly of repudiating the public debt, he said: National repudiation to avoid taxation, is the most onerous of imposts. It bankrupts national honor."

6

But, enough of these specimen-bricks of so stately an edifice.

At

Turning from the orator to contemplate the man, we see much to condemn and little to appland. The flatterers of Mirabeau can call him neither a good statesman nor a bad statesman. He was no statesman at all; but simply a bold agitator in turbulent times. Notwithstanding his lofty orations, the most charitable observer can find in the motives that influ

enced his course during the revolution, only a mixed feeling of hatred of despotism, hatred of the class that had oppressed and degraded him, and hatred of institutions that had permitted or inflicted his wrongs. And this hatred was scarcely relieved by a corresponding love of liberty, equality and justice;-it was a hatred of one set of objects, imperfectly mingled with a love of their opposites. This made him more eager to demolish existing institutions, than careful in selecting substitutes to supply the places thus made vacant. The feelings which prompted both this eagerness in tearing down, and this carelessness in building up, sprang from a very natural but a very impure source. He had been crushed under the heel of a proud noblesse; he had been hunted through Europe by the ministers of a regal government. He would have vengeance on his oppressors, by trampling down the aristocracy and degrading the throne.

Human nature might have forgiven him this, had he not turned traitor to his avowed principles by betraying the cause he had championed. The searching eye of calumny has been able to find only three or four instances of venality among all the authors and promoters of the revolution; and its most celebrated orator is one of these. When Robespierre and his colleagues had all the revenues of France at their control, they allowed themselves a monthly salary, which was to cover all their personal expenses, of only 360 francs ($67) each. The chiefs of the Reign of Terror, with hearts sealed to the cry of pity, were above the reach of corruption. With arms dipped to the elbows in the richest blood of Paris, they never dabbled in private bribes, or abstracted a franc from the public coffers. But Mirabeau, long pinched with poverty, he had become sordid. Given to pleasure, he required immense sums to gratify his appetites and maintain his ostentatious displays. A life of debauchery and strife had so rotted his heart, that he had not sufficient virtue remaining to resist a bribe. Months before his death, he had entered into an obligation to sell his principles and his party into the hands of the king, for so much gold and such office in the government as he might select. We hardly know which party to this base bargain is most deserving of pity-the fallen prince, or the degraded deputy. Both must have been reduced to the last straits before they could have joined hands over such a contract. Mirabeau had received part of his price, and had secretly commenced his work, when death released him from the completion of the compact. Had he lived, he must have failed in arresting the march of the revolution, and would no doubt have fallen an early victim to the Reign of Terror. His treachery not having been yet disclosed, his death was mourned as a public calamity, his body was deposited with solemn pomp in the Pantheon, and a nation sprinkled his tomb with unaffected tears.

Three years afterwards, during which the blade of the guillotine had dripped with the blood of Louis, Marie Antoinette, Phillippe Egalite, Vergniaud, Mayor Bailly, Madame Roland, Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, and Robespierre, the remains of the great orator of the Assembly were expelled from the Pantheon; his ashes strewn upon the winds by hands that had once and again borne him in triumph from the tribune; his bust burnt in the Place de Greve amid the shoutings of the populace that had so often applauded his eloquence; and his head-the head of Mirabeau! was thrown into the cemetery of Clamart, the common receptacle of the scaffold, there to moulder undistinguished among the mutilated trunks and skulls of the Reign of Terror! Such was that Great Leveller, the French Revolution!

THE LOST STANDARD:

AN INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ.

(TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF WILHELM SMETS.)

[Napoleon was crowned at Fontainebleau, December 2, 1804; on the same day, in the following year, was fought the celebrated battle of Austerlitz.]

AGAIN, oh sun! thy course brings round the coronation day,

'Mid blood-red clouds thy beams appear, in blood they fade away;
A year ago, thy setting closed far otherwise than now,
When Corsica's bold soldier placed the crown upon his brow;
Yet now, as then, the thunders roll, with deep and solemn sound,
The pealing trumpet wildly rings, the drum-beat echoes round,
The clarion summons to the chase, where mortals are the prey,
And where three mighty hosts contend, peals death's stern reveille.
From thunder-clouds on every side the lightnings start by fits,
On this, the coronation day-the day of Austerlitz!

How sank thy shield, oh! Hapsburg, then, thy proudly 'scutchion'd shield,
Beneath the foeman's vengeful stroke, on that ensanguin'd field!
How lay, oh! Czar, in crowded heaps, thy bravest warriors slain,
When, sweeping from the open'd ranks, the death-shot pour'd like hail.
Still onward rush'd thy legions, France, amid the battle's roar,
And in the van, troop after troop thy chainless eagles bore.
There, clad in garb of gray, behold the genius of the fight,
An image of pale death he seems, upon his charger white;
Around him now, the carnage o'er, the ranks are gather'd nigh,
And ev'ry soldier seeks the glance of that keen falcon eye.
He sees them round him, girt about with corpses of the foe,
Around whose ghastly forms there floats a winding-sheet of snow;
And proud and high, from every band, the Eagle banner's tossed,
That all may meet the monarch's glance, nor show one standard lost:
Not one? With gloomy brow advances swift, the man in vestment gray,
Sorrow and wrath his features speak, that words could ill portray:
All voiceless as the hush of death, the stalwart hand stood still,
While ev'ry bosom felt a pang, and ev'ry pulse a thrill;
"Where is your Eagle banner, men, that late my own hand gave?
What! die ye not of very shame-why seek ye not your grave?"
Thus from his lips, while flash'd his eye, the gather'd fury rush'd,-
"The Eagle-yes, your Eagle, men"-and all again was hush'd.
The ranks unclose-two veterans scarr'd, advancing from the band,
With martial step, in silent grief, before the monarch stand;
The cross of honor seems to say- the forehead brown'd 'neath many a sun,
We gain'd the field of Arcola-the "Pyramids" we won.

No arms does either now present-weapons they carry none;
Yet glorious trophies do they bear, and thus outspeaketh one:
"The ensign fell amid the fray-thus was our Eagle lost,
Then we, like raging lions, rush'd amid the hostile host,

And man to man, and breast to breast, we mingled in the fray,
That so we might our loss repair, and wash this stain away;
And these two Russian standards, sire, which we have won to-day,
We beg, in place of that we lost, before our chief to lay."

"Now, Emperor, thou thyself shalt say, if ever it can be,
That thou our Eagle wilt replace, and grant us pardon free,
For we have sworn we will not live, if we must hear our name
Forever coupled, on thy lips, with epithets of shame."
"Be patient, then," the monarch cried, and hurried swiftly by,
Yet ere he left, there fell, 'tis said, a tear-drop from his eye.
Beneath the Invalides' proud dome the Russian banners rest,
And in Saint Ivan's lofty halls the Eagle droops his crest;
Yet, as the rolling year again brought round that battle day,
Before their chief that army pass'd in all their bright array:
Another Eagle then was borne before that legion brave,
Who knew, altho' their flag was lost, their honor'd name to save.

W. B.

SKETCHES OF LALLY'S CAMPAIGN IN MEXICO.

(Concluded.)

THE Ohio Regiment of Col. Brough, with three additional companies, (Simmons' battalion,) together with Lieut. Pratt's battery, were left to guard the train. The remainder, consisting of a battalion of the Pennsylvanians, under Col. Wynkoop; the Indiana regiment, under Col. Gorman; Captain Heintzleman's battalion of six companies of infantry; the veteran battalion of Major Lally; four companies of mounted men, under Walker; five pieces of artillery, under Captain Taylor and Lieut. Field, both of the Third Artillery; and several others, volunteers and followers of the army; amounting, in all, to three thousand picked men, moved from San Antonio at about ten o'clock on the ninth day of October, with drums beating and colors waving, in all "the pride and circumstance of glorious war.'

Their movements were not unnoticed. Frequently, as the eye scanned the road to Huamantla, men on horseback could be seen, watching the busy preparations with eager gaze. As the last regiment shouldered their muskets, and hurried after the men who had preceded them, as if satisfied of our number and force, they galloped away.

At about one o'clock the city of Huamantla (pronounced Whawmantla) was descried. It is situated about ten or fifteen miles from San Antonio, and is reached by a road which thence branches off to the right of the national highway. The road is lined on either side with thick groves of maguay, which much obstructs the view. The column was halted at about three miles distant, and preparations made for assault.

At this moment two thousand regular cavalry were seen hurrying over the hills towards the city, and large parties of other horsemen rapidly concentrating from every quarter. Several of these passed very near the advance. Walker, who was in command here, and who was doubtless ignorant of the habitual impetuosity of Lane's advance when actually engaged with the enemy, and who feared, perhaps, that an opportunity for doing service would escape, could no longer restrain his own impatience and the impetuosity of the men. He had under his command more than one hundred and fifty of perhaps the best mounted force in the world, and believed himself impregnable. Elated and confident, he charged upon a small party which was passing before the moment of the intended combined assault, and, long before he could recover, had driven them to the gates of the city. Unfortunately, he did not stop there, but, flushed with success, and urged by the spirit and intrepidity of his men, he followed the enemy into the very heart of the city. Some have said, in excuse for Captain Walker, that he recognized, in this party, the staff and person of General Santa Anna. At all events, the entry into the city was premature and impolitic.

It was the intention of the commander-in-chief, that the city should be first approached by the infantry, on the right and left flanks, and accordingly, that part of the force was divided into three bodies. Colonel Gorman was directed to enter on the west side, with his regiment, while Wynkoop, with the artillery, should penetrate from the east. Lally's

brigade were held in reserve. The rapid entry of Walker occasioned some little precipitation in the movements of the troops, and some confusion. He had no sooner succeeded in dispersing the party, which was his original object, than they were reinforced by those large bodies whom we have seen hurrying towards the city from all quarters. Lieut. B. F. McDonald, of the 3d Artillery, was dispatched by Lane to acquaint Walker of the perils of his situation. The messenger arrived too late; Walker was already engaged in a desperate hand to hand struggle with them, upon the main plaza. Surrounded by more than three thousand of the enemy, who, by the mere force of numbers, had detached the various sections of his little band, with unparalleled intrepidity he disputed every inch of ground. His orders could not reach all his men, yet, posted at the head of a lane through which the enemy were pouring in upon his little troop, he exhibited to them a noble example of triumphant heroism. The wars of ancient Rome seemed revived upon that bloody field, and thus contending, single-handed, against fearful odds, he might well be deemed worthy to rank beside her sublimest warriors. After about three quarters of an hour, loud huzzas, which reached the plaza, from the west, announced the rapid approach of Gorman's regiment, and the rest of the American infantry. The Mexicans retired in precipitation ; but at the very moment when speedy relief was thus at hand, the gallant captain fell, pierced by three mortal wounds. "YIELD NOT AN INCH !NOT ONE INCH!" he cried, and sank lifeless in the arms of his comrades.

In the meanwhile, Wynkoop had entered on the east, and Lally, after a short detour with his corps de reserve, in pursuit of the retreating enemy, also gained the scene of the recent terrible conflict. The plaza was heaped with the slain. One hundred and fifty of the enemy were killed; the American loss was only thirteen killed and eleven wounded. Two field pieces and two officers of rank, Col. La Vega and Major Iturbide, were taken prisoners; the latter surrendered to Lieut. Anderson, of the Georgia volunteers. Lieut. Claiborne, of the rifles, and Captain Fitzhammond, of the same regiment, are entitled to the honor of capturing the guns. There fell also into the hands of the victors, a large quantity of ammunition, several thousand stands of arms, and a number of excellent horses.

At about four o'clock the column evacuated the city and returned towards camp. Several stores having been broken open and pillaged during the mêlee, this was not easy of accomplishment. Two-thirds of the command were mounted upon the captured horses; quite a large number were intoxicated, and had arrayed themselves in parts of the gaudy uniform of the Mexican lancers, and excited much merriment by their uncouth gestures and appearance. So carelessly was the evacuation conducted, that little is hazarded in the remark, that a few hundred men, posted behind the thick maguays which line the sides of the narrow alleys leading from Huamantla, could, on the night of the victory, have taken ample revenge for the bloodshed and enormous loss of property which this victory occasioned to Mexico.

None but the dragoons reached camp that night. They carried with them the said news of Walker's death. To the men of his own company the intelligence was of course most distressing; for it was his high encomium to be most loved where he was best known. Modest and unassuming when off duty; in the moment of the fearful charge, his shrill, clear voice, could be heard high above the clamor, in tones at once musical