came to life again, and, with good nursing, got quite well in a short time. He often jocularly said to me afterwards, "Well, you see the man that is born to be hanged will never be drowned." After this episode, I return to my narration of affairs in general. The progress of the battle of Mojaisk has been so much spoken of, that I will say but little of it. Our victory was complete. However, the Russian army turned back towards Moscow in great order. We followed at their heels, firmly believing that there must yet be a hot engagement, and advancing therefore with great precaution. Our advanced guard was incessantly engaged with the rear-guard of the Russians; but it never came to a serious fight, for the latter continuously retreated; and at length even this conflict ceased, as the Russians, instead of falling back upon Moscow itself, abandoned the city to the enemy, and took a southern direction. The fatigues and difficulties which we had struggled through on the march were now, as we were so near to Moscow, to be no more thought of. The glad expectation of finding all things there, steeled our courage and our strength; and if either relaxed, we did but call out to each other the name of the so ardently desired city, which produced an almost magical effect upon us. At length, when we had crossed the woody eminence named the Holy Hill, which lies close to Moscow, the great majestic city stood before us bright in the morning sunshine. We looked down into it as into a new world ;-a loud cry of exultation ran through our rankswe pressed each other's hands-we congratulated each other-the tumult of joy was all-pervading. Even the Emperor from his exalted point of view surveyed with indubitable joy the city lying before us, with her countless cupolas and towers, which extending, after the manner of the Chinese, in wide, extravagant divisions, were connected together by chains, presenting to us an entirely novel and strange ap pearance. Asia and Europe seemed here to meet,- -a new quarter of the world opened to us,—and our breasts beat high in joy and pride on having at length attained this goal of our vast exertions and hardships. The army halted, the advanced guard entered the city, while the guards pitched their tents before the gates; and the Emperor anticipated that next day the magistrates would make their appearance, to deliver up the keys of the place. Since that, however, did not happen, the guards occupied the city, and the troops of the line followed the retiring enemy along the road to Taratino. How great was our amazement when we, as if threading a city of the dead, found it completely emptied of human beings !-thus making an impressive contrast with the condition in which we discovered everything within it. The shops, the dwellings, the places of general resort were as well arranged and well filled as is the case in other great towns, presenting everything that can charm the sight or induce cupidity. There was also a great quantity of provisions, particularly of colonial produce; but since there were no peculiar regulations in the army in this respect, they fell into the hands of a few individuals, who established victualling stores themselves, and carried gluttony to the highest excess, whilst the soldiers at the gates, destitute of all things, were feeding on horse-flesh. They had, however, an incredible superabundance of gaudy, useless objects; and precious articles, such as Persian shawls, magnificent furs, gold and silver vessels, all dragged away by the soldiers, lay in confused heaps together, and were offered with urgency for a morsel of bread. Handsome sofas and chairs were to be seen in the open streets (upon which the reeling soldiers threw themselves in their soiled uniforms), shoved against casks of wine, rum, and brandy. I had quartered myself with many of my companions in an empty palace, which we soon furnished with the necessaries of life, partly through some lucky chances, partly by means of money, which we had more of than we wanted, and thus had established, as we then believed, our first preparatory arrangements for the winter season, when suddenly fire broke out in many quarters of the city at once. We believed at first that it had been caused by the carelessness of our soldiers, which alarmed us exceedingly, the Emperor having given strict orders to preserve the city as much as possible. However, after the most careful examination by officers appointed to inquire, they ascertained that the army was entirely innocent of the misfortune,-nay, that at the very outset fire had been observed to issue from a house until then closed up; some also insisted upon having seen wild-looking Russians with long iron rakes stirring up the fire, and endeavouring to spread it. We were in great consternation, although it seemed as if by our united efforts we should master the fire; and certainly on the 15th of September there was an evident diminution of it, so that Marshal Mortier reported to the Emperor that it was extinguished; but it broke out again in the night with renewed vigour, and attained to such a height on the following day, that it enveloped the Kremlin on all sides in an ocean of flames. Then only, as is well known, Napoleon quitted that antique (to the Russian's sacred) structure, and took up his quarters in the imperial palace of Petrowsky, a league distant from the city. The fire raged three days with indescribable fierceness in unhappy Moscow, decreased on the 19th, and was extinguished on the 20th. Scarcely one third part of the town was left uninjured by the raging flames. Through the efforts of the guard, however, the Kremlin was safe, to which the Emperor returned on the 20th. What a scene offered itself to his eyes! Every species of discipline and of obedience had ceased; pillage, which earlier had been carried on only here and there, and as it were underhand, was now openly practised, and spread like an overwhelming torrent over the whole city, while no description can give a true idea of the hurry and confusion among the heavilyladen soldiers. One saw the most highly-prized productions of Europe and Asia scattered about, or lying around in heaped-up masses, mingled with rolls of lead from the demolished roofs of houses. The streets were filled, the thoroughfares stopped up. The Emperor evinced deep depression at the desolation which presented itself on his entrance; his attendants remarked a restlessness and an irritation in him such as they had never before seen, such as suited so little with the severe decision of his character, and the impress of his exterior. Moreover, there was the uncertainty of what was to be the end of all this. It is known how artfully at that time the negotiations between the Emperor and Alexander were impeded, or broken off by the Russian generals, and in particular how well they were able to cajole Murat, that man so open to flattery, by demonstrations of astonishment and respect, so that the grand object of obtaining favourable conditions from Russia was lost sight of entirely. It is not my aim to write a political history of those times, but only so far to mention it as may serve for a clue to the important, extraordinary events of one individual life; and I therefore may return to my own experiences during the conflagration, the fearful picture of which and its dread accessories, so far as I witnessed them, can never be effaced from my memory: Thus were we, on the night of the 14th of September, driven out of our above-mentioned palace by the fire, which, on our awakening, encompassed us on all sides, and flying to the German suburb, a quarter till then uninjured, the guards, who were quartered there, received us in a comrade-like manner. Here we endeavoured to keep the soldiers of the regiment as much as possible together; but, as I have before pointed out, every trace of discipline had disappeared, and each man followed his own will, and his own peculiar gratification. When the fire relaxed, we looked about in the city for a new dwellingplace, and discovered one in the cellars of a burned-down palace, near one of the public promenades. We found, to our great surprise, the place inhabited, and truly by an old long-bearded Russian, whom we did not chase away, but considered him as our landlord, and left him undisturbed. Here, with the ready indifference of soldiers in the field, we settled ourselves comfortably, agreeably even; for we were speedily supplied with all that was needful towards housekeeping. What we were soon the most in want of was tobacco, and I commissioned my sergeant Lippe, now quite cured of his wound, to procure me some. After a long, useless search, he discovered, also in a cellar, an old Russian, to whom he held out a five-franc piece, repeating the word, tobacco. At first the old Scythian shook his head with great indifference, and then stood like an inanimate guardian before an arched cellar, provided with an iron grate. At the sight of a second five-franc piece life returned to him; he traversed the vault, carefully closing the grate behind him, and came back with a good handful of long Turkey tobacco. It was now Lippe's turn to shake his head, and intimate to the old man that he must have more. At length, after the bargain was struck, my sergeant saw himself in possession of a whole cask of that glorious weed, which he brought to me in triumph, and a part of which was one day to do me signal service. As I said, our housekeeping was on an excellent footing; our people knew how to get at everything which could best serve our table in that desolated city; and, while they roasted and boiled, we surveyed the defaced, dilapidated Moscow, as likewise the rescued Kremlin, without any forebodings of our terrific future, and safe, as it appeared to us, under the particular protection, and in the immediate vicinity of the Emperor. On the 18th of October I received orders to bring back a detachment of the 8th regiment, to which I belonged, and which had remained behind at Mojaisk. I therefore left Moscow, and undertook to conduct with me a German family who had been residing there, but who now wished to return to Germany. This family consisted of a mother, two children, and a waiting maid. They sat in a large, handsome travelling-carriage, drawn by four horses, and laden with all the property the lady had been enabled to save, on which account the poor woman was in no small anxiety as to the progress of her journey. This carriage was followed by my own, a magnificent English state carriage, containing, besides my other property, the most beautiful and costly furs, which I had bought for a song. This carriage was out of one of the first repositories in Moscow. Even in that abandoned miserable city everything could yet be had for gold, which was often exchanged for articles having a thousand times its value. This carriage I had with me a long time; it was even conveyed over the Beresina, which might be accounted a fable. It was a sickwaggon for our wounded; and at length I only left it behind at Wilna, because the horses, staggering with hunger, were no longer able to drag it along. We arrived without accident at Mojaisk, where, after a cordial separation from my protegée, I reported myself to the commander of the division, Lieutenant-General Schulz, with whom I was personally acquainted, and by him most kindly received. I had much to relate, also much to hear, of the immeasurable distress which began to predominate everywhere, Mojaisk as yet forming an exception; for, through the arrangements made by General Allix, the harvest had been saved and housed; our soldiers threshed, ground, and baked excellent bread. General Schulz himself was on the footing of a prince. To the sumptuosness of a palace he had added all the movable luxuries which can be thought of. We hoped to spend the whole winter here in safety and quiet, and, after our great privations, agreeably too, in the full comfort of our earlier lives. But what perils, what woes had we not soon afterwards to encounter!-woes such as, since that period, have never been encountered in such full measure, many of them never even singly experienced. Calamity, need, and disquietudes never indeed vanish entirely out of human life, but show themselves, now here, now there, under various forms; however, in times like the present, they are necessarily more transient, since hardly can all those circumstances again concur which made our sufferings at that time not only fearful in themselves, but also of such long duration. BALLAD. BY WILLIAM JONES. WHO loves thee not, Agnes !-sweet maiden, whose brow The smile of thy features, the light of thy glance! Who loves thee not, Agnes! so gentle and good! ENNOBLED ACTRESSES. BY MRS. MATHEWS. "In comedies, the duties of the various situations of life are held out to view, and, as it were, reflected from a mirror. The office of parents and the proper conduct of children are faithfully delineated, and, what to young men may be advantageous, the vices of profligate characters exhibited in their true colours.. No Christian need be deterred from attending them."-LUTHER. "What entertainment, what pleasure so rational as that afforded by a wellwritten and well-acted play,-whence the mind may receive at once its fill of improvement and delight ?"-DR. JOHNSON. BIOGRAPHY, when honest, is like what Coleridge said of wine: "it invents nothing, it only tattles." In the progress of women of unquestioned lives, those whose early steps have been evenly and well directed, and their onward paths those of pleasantness and peace, there are no "moving accidents," which can furnish forth a narrative calculated to amuse the wonderseeking public. Indeed, it is the privilege, as it should be the pride, of the gentler sex, for the most part to glide noiselessly through the world, in silent prosecution of their appointed duties, their virtues appreciated-but not proclaimed-by those to whose well-being and happiness they contribute. In the story of such lives, the narrator, inapt to "invent," finds it extremely difficult to "tattle." Thus many amiable, excellent beings, both in public and private life, leave no memorial, but are perished as "though they ne'er had been," while, happily, there be some few that have left a name behind them that their praises may be reported. In the latter portion must be ranked the COUNTESS OF CRAVEN. MISS LOUISA BRUNTON, daughter of a respected gentleman, for many years proprietor of the Norwich Theatre, was not, we believe, originally intended for the stage, although her uncommon graces of person, exceeding loveliness of countenance, with many polite acquirements, eminently qualified her for a profession where extraordinary beauty of form and face are deemed essential,—indeed, can only be dispensed with in the case of extraordinary talent, though homeliness is still a drawback. The cause of Miss Brunton's coming upon the stage may be explained in the following manner. When Mrs. Siddons, in her early career, took leave of the Bath theatre for a metropolitan engagement, she alleged three existing reasons for withdrawing from the patrons and friends she then had for a more lucrative position, and, in imitation of the virtuous matron Cornelia, who when asked to produce her jewels, exhibited her children, Mrs. Siddons drew forward her little gems, (a son and two daughters,) before her admiring audience, who generously and feelingly acknowledged the excellence and sufficiency of this threefold plea. Mr. Brunton might, in like manner, have adduced many |