changed three times in that terrible night-new flames broke always forth in that direction, where the existing gale was calculated to direct them on the Kremlin. These horrors were increased by the chance of explosion. There was, though as yet unknown to the French, a magazine of powder in the Kremlin; besides that, a park of artillery, with its ammunition, was drawn up under the emperor's window. Morning came, and with it a dreadful scene. During the whole night the metropolis had glared with an untimely and unnatural light. It was now covered with a thick and suffocating atmosphere of almost palpable smoke. The flames defied the efforts of the French soldiery; and it is said that the fountains of the city had been rendered inaccessible, the water-pipes cut, and the fire-engines destroyed or carried off.

Then came the reports of fireballs having been found burning in deserted houses; of men and women, that, like demons, had been seen openly spreading flames, and who were said to be furnished with combustibles for rendering their dreadful work more secure. Several wretches, against whom such acts had been charged, were seized upon, and, probably without much inquiry, were shot on the spot. While it was almost impossible to keep the roof of the Kremlin clear of the burning brands which showered down the wind, Napoleon watched from the windows the course of the fire which devoured his fair conquest, and the exclamation burst from him: These are indeed Scythians !'

The equinoctial gales rose higher and higher upon the third night, and extended the flames, with which there was no longer any human power of contending. At the dead hour of midnight, the Kremlin itself was found to be on fire. A soldier of the Russian police, charged with

being the incendiary, was turned over to the summary vengeance of the Imperial Guard. Bonaparte was then, at length, persuaded by the entreaties of all around him, to relinquish his quarters in the Kremlin, to which, as the visible mark of his conquest, he had seemed to cling with the tenacity of a lion holding a fragment of his prey. He encountered both difficulty and danger in retiring from the palace, and before he could gain the city-gate, he had to traverse, with his suite, streets arched with fire, and in which the very air they breathed was suffocating. At length he gained the open country, and took up his abode in a palace of the Czar's, called Petrowsky, about a French league from the city. As he looked back on the fire, which, under the influence of the autumnal wind, swelled and surged round the Kremlin, like an infernal ocean around a sable Pandemonium, he could not suppress the ominous expression: This bodes us great misfortune!'

The fire continued to triumph unopposed, and consumed in a few days what it had cost centuries to raise. 'Palaces and temples,' says a Russian author, monuments of art, and miracles of luxury, the remains of ages which had passed away, and those which had been the creation of yesterday; the tombs of ancestors, and the nurserycradles of the present generation, were indiscriminately destroyed. Nothing was left of Moscow save the remembrance of the city, and the deep resolution to avenge its fall.'

The fire raged till the 19th with unabated violence, and then began to slacken for want of fuel. It is said fourfifths of this great city were laid in ruins.

THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY.

1.

Old stories tell how Hercules

A dragon slew at Lerna,

With seven heads and fourteen eyes,
To see and well discern-a :

But he had a club, this dragon to drub,
Or he ne'er had done it, I warrant ye:
But More of More-hall, with nothing at all,
He slew the dragon of Wantley.

2.

This dragon had two furious wings,
Each one upon each shoulder;
With a sting in his tail as long as a flail,

Which made him bolder and bolder.

He had long claws, and in his jaws
Four-and-forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff,
Which did him round environ.

3.

Have you not heard how the Trojan horse
Held seventy men in his belly?
This dragon was not quite so big,
But very near, I'll tell ye;
Devoured he poor children three,

That could not with him grapple ;
And at one sup he ate them up,
As one would eat an apple.

4.

All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat ;

Some say he ate up trees,

And that the forests sure he would

Devour up by degrees :

For houses and churches were to him geese and turkeys;

He ate all and left none behind,

But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack, Which on the hills you will find.

5.

Hard by a furious knight there dwelt;
Men, women, girls, and boys,
Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging,

And made a hideous noise,

O save us all, More of More-hall,

Thou peerless knight of these woods;

Do but slay this dragon, who won't leave us a rag on, We'll give thee all our goods.

6.

This being done, he did engage
To hew the dragon down;
But first he went new armour to

Bespeak at Sheffield town;

With spikes all about, not within but without,

Of steel so sharp and strong,

Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er,
Some five or six inches long.

Had

7.

you but seen him in this dress, How fierce he looked, and how big, You would have thought him for to be

Some Egyptian porcupig:

He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all,

Each cow, each horse, and each hog:

For fear they did flee, for they took him to be
Some strange, outlandish hedgehog.

8.

To see this fight all people then

Got up on trees and houses,

On churches some, and chimneys too;

But these put on their trousers,

Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
To make him strong and mighty,
He drank, by the tale, six pots of ale,
And a quart of aqua-vitæ.

9.

It is not strength that always wins,
For wit doth strength excel;
Which made our cunning champion

Creep down into a well,

Where he did think this dragon would drink,

And so he did in truth;

And as he stooped low, he rose up and cried, Boh!
And kicked him in the mouth.

10.

'Oh,' quoth the dragon with a deep sigh,
And turned six times together,
Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing,

Out of his throat of leather:
'More of More-hall, O thou rascal,

Would I had seen thee never;

With the thing at thy foot thou hast pricked my throat, And I'm quite undone for ever.