ately he must attack the Austrians. The messenger went upon his knees to prevent him; but in vain. He thought ine already master of France, Belgium, and Holland, and that he must make his peace, and not adhere to demi-mesures. Like a madman, he attacked the Austrians with his canaille, and ruined me. For at that time there was a negociation going on between Austria and me, stipulating that the former should remain neuter, which would have been finally concluded, and I should have reigned undisturbed. But as soon as Murat attacked the Austrians, the emperor immediately conceived that he was acting by my directions, and indeed it will be difficult to make posterity believe to the contrary. Metternich said, 'Oh, the Emperor Napoleon is the same as ever. A man of iron. The trip to Elba has not changed him. Nothing will ever alter him; all or nothing for him.' Austria joined the coalition, and I was lost. Murat was unconscious that my conduct was regulated by circumstances and adapted to them. He was like a man gazing at the scenes shifting at the opera, without ever thinking of the machinery behind, by which the whole is moved. He never however thought that his secession in the first instance would have been so injurious to me, or he would not have joined the allies. He concluded that I should be obliged to give up Italy and some other countries, but never contemplated my total ruin." covering roads, and would not do more than if he had only thirty thousand. He did not know how to profit either by the number of his troops, or by their positions. Very calm and cool in the field, he was more collected and better able to command in the heat of an action than to make dispositions prior to it. He was often seen smoking his pipe in battle. Moreau was not naturally a man of a bad heart; Un bon vivant, mais il n'avait pas beaucoup de caractère. He was led away by his wife and another intriguing Creole. His having joined Pichegru and Georges in the conspiracy, and subsequently having closed his life fighting against his country, will ever disgrace his memory. As a general, Moreau was infinitely inferior to Desaix, or to Kleber, or even to Soult. Of all the generals I ever had under me, Desaix and Kleber possessed the greatest talents; especially Desaix, as Kleber only loved glory, inasmuch as it was the means of procuring him riches and pleasures, whereas Desaix loved glory for itself and despised every thing else. Desaix was wholly wrapt up in war and glory. To him riches and pleasure were valueless, nor did he give them a moment's thought. He was a little black-looking man, about an inch shorter than I am, always badly dressed, sometimes even ragged, and despising comfort and convenience. When in Egypt, I made him a present of a complete field-equipage several times, but he always lost it. Wrapt up in a cloak, Desaix threw himself under a gun, and slept as contentedly as if he were in a palace. For him luxury had no charms. Upright and honest in all his proceedings, he was called by the Arabs, the just sultan. He He was intended by nature for a great general. Kleber and Desaix were a loss irreparable to France. Had Kleber lived, your army in Egypt would have perished. Had that imbecile Menou attacked you on your landing with twenty thousand men, as he might have done, instead of the division Lanusse, your army would have been only a meal for them. Your army was seventeen or eighteen thousand strong. without cavalry." There are many sketches of Murat, but this is the best. It was Mr. O' Meara who communicated to Napoleon the intelligence of Murat's death. "He heard it," says he, "with calmness, and immediately demanded if he had perished on the field of battle." afterwards remarked that the conduct of the Calabrese towards Murat was mercy compared with the treatment which he was experiencing. The following are descriptions of some of his generals and ministers. "Moreau," said he, " was an excellent general of division, but not fit to command a large army. With a hundred thousand men, Moreau would divide his army in different positions, He I asked his opinion of Clarke. replied, "he is not a man of talent, but he is laborious and useful in the bureau. He is, moreover, incorruptible, and saving of the public money, which he never has appropriated to his own use. He is an excellent redacteur. He is not a soldier, however, nor do I believe that he ever saw a shot fired in his life. He is infatuated with his nobility. He pretends that he is descended from the ancient kings of Scotland, or Ireland, and constantly vaunts of his noble descent. A good clerk. I sent him to Florence as ambassador, where he employed himself in nothing but turning over the old musty records of the place, in search of proofs of the nobility of my family, for you must know that they come from Florence. He plagued me with letters upon this subject, which caused me to write to him to attend to the business for which he had been sent to Florence, and not to trouble his head or mine with his nonsense about nobility; that I was the first of my family. Notwithstanding this, he still continued his inquiries. When I returned from Elba, he offered his services to me, but I sent him word that I would not employ any traitors, and ordered him to his estates." I asked if he thought that Clarke would have served him faithfully. "Yes," replied the emperor," as long as I was the strongest, like a great many others." The characters of Fouché and Talleyrand are strongly and unfavourably drawn. The following anecdote, if not probable, is at least amusing. "Madame Talleyrand was a very fine woman, English or East Indian, but sotte and grossly ignorant. I sometimes asked Denon, whose works I suppose you have read, to breakfast with me, as I took a pleasure in his conversation, and conversed very freely with him. Now all the intriguers and speculators paid their court to Denon, with a view of inducing him to mention their projects or themselves in the course of his conversation with me, thinking that even being mentioned by such a man as Denon, for whom I had a great esteem, might materially serve 53 ATHENEUM VOL. 11. them. Talleyrand, who was a great speculator, invited Denon to dinner. When he went home to his wife, he said, my dear, I have invited Denon to dine. He is a great traveller, and you must say something handsome to him about his travels, as he may be useful to us with the emperor.' His wife being extremely ignorant, and probably never having read any other book of travels than that of Robinson Crusoe, concluded that Denon could be nobody else than Robinson. Wishing to be very civil to him, she, before a large company, asked him divers questions about his man Friday! Denon, astonished, did not know what to think at first, but at length discovered by her questions that she really imagined him to be Robinson Crusoe. His astonishment and that of the company cannot be described, nor the peals of laughter which it excited in Paris, as the story flew like wildfire through the city, and even Talleyrand himself was ashamed of it. "At one time I had appointed Talleyrand," said he, "to proceed on a mission to Warsaw, in order to arrange and organize the best method of accomplishing the separation of Poland from Russia. He had several conferences with me respecting this mission, which was a great surprise to the ministers, as Talleyrand had no official character at the time. Having married one of his relations to the Duchess of Courland, Talleyrand was very anxious to receive the appointment, in order to revive the claims of the Duchess's family. However, some money transactions of his were discovered at Vienna, which convinced me that he was carrying on the old game and determined me not to employ him on the intended mission. I had designed at one time to have made him a cardinal, with which he refused to comply. Madame Grand threw herself twice upon her knees before me, in order to obtain permission to marry him, which I refused; but through the intreaties of Josephine, she succeeded on the second application. I afterwards forbade her the court, when I discovered the Genoa affair, of which I told you before. Latterly," continued he, "Talleyrand sunk into contempt." The following is his description of Carnot. "A man laborious and sincere, but liable to the influence of intrigues and easily deceived. He had directed the operations of war, without having merited the eulogiums which were pronounced upon him, as he had neither the experience, nor the habitude of war. When minister of war, he shewed but little talent, and had many quarrels with the ministers of finance and the treasury; in all of which he was wrong. He left the ministry, convinced that he could not fulfil his station for want of money. He afterwards voted against the establishment of the empire, but as his conduct was always upright, he never gave any umbrage to the government. During the prosperity of the empire, he never asked for any thing; but after the misfortunes of Russia, he demanded employment, and got the command of Antwerp, where he acquitted himself very well. After Napoleon's return from Elba, he was minister of the interior; and the emperor had every reason to be satisfied with his conduct. He was faithful, a man of truth and probity, and laborious in his exertions. After the abdication, he was named one of the provisional government, but he was joué by the intriguers by whom he was surrounded. He had passed for an original amongst his companions when he was young. He hated the nobles, and on that account had several quarrels with Robespierre, who latterly protected many of them. He was member of the committee of public safety along with Robespierre, Couthon, St. Just, and the other butchers, and was the only one who was not denounced. He afterwards demanded to be included in the denunciation, and to be tried for his conduct, as well as the others, which was refused; but his having made the demand to share the fate of the rest, gained him great credit." The last character which we can afford to take out of these volumes, is that of his Majesty of Prussia. I asked him, if the king of Prussia was a man of talent. "Who," said he, "the king of Prussia?" He burst into a fit of laughter. "He a man of talent! The greatest blockhead on earth. Un ignorantaccio che non ha nè talente, nè informazione. A Don Quixote in appearance. I know him well. He cannot hold a conversation for five minutes." "When," continued Napoleon, "I was at Tilsit, with the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia, I was the most ignorant of the three in military affairs. These two sovereigns, especially the King of Prussia, were completely au fait, as to the number of buttons there ought to be in the front of a jacket, how many behind, and the manner in which the skirts ought to be cut. Not a tailor in the army knew better than King Frederic, how many measures of cloth it took to make a jacket. In fact," continued he, laughing, "I was nobody in comparison with them. They continually tormented me with questions about matters belonging to tailors, of which I was entirely ignorant, though in or der not to affront them, I answered just as gravely as if the fate of an army depended upon the cut of a jacket. When I went to see the King of Prussia, instead of a library, I found he had a large room, like an arsenal, furnished with shelves and pegs, in which were placed fifty or sixty jackets of various modes. Every day he changed his fashion, and put on a different one. He was a tall, dry looking fellow, and would give a good idea of Don Quixote. He attached more importance to the cut of a dragoon or a hussar uniform, than was necessary for the salvation of a kingdom. At Jena, his army performed the finest and most showy manoeuvres possible, but I soon put a stop to their coglionerie, and taught them, that to fight, and to execute dazzling manoeuvres and wear splendid uniforms, were very different affairs. If," added he, "the French army had been commanded by a tailor the King of Prussia would certainly have gained the day, from his superior knowledge in that art; but as victories depend more upon the skill of the gen eral commanding the troops, than upon that of the tailor who makes their jackets, he consequently failed." It is a curious fact, and one mortifying enough to human greatness, that Napoleon declared, that the happiest days he ever passed were when he was but a private man, "living in a lodging near Paris." Being asked by Mr. O'Meara, what was his happiest point of time after his accession to the throne he instantly replied, "the march from Cannes to Paris." This our readers will doubtless recollect, was after the expedition from Elba. He declares, that he had no idea of departing from Elba, at first; and that, on the contrary, he would have contentedly remained there, had it not been for the numberless violations of the treaty of Fontainbleau by the allies; amongst the most prominent of which he enumerates the following. He says, it was stipulated that all the members of his family should be permitted to follow him, and that this was violated by the almost instant seizure of his wife and child; that they were to have had the duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, of which they were deprived; that prince Eugene was to have had a principality in Italy, which was never given; that his mother and brothers were to receive pensions, which were withheld; that his own private prop erty, and the savings which he had made on the civil list, were to be preserved to him, but on the contrary they were seized; that the private property of his family was to be held sacred, but it was confiscated; that the dotations assigned to the army, on the Mont Napoleon, were to be preserved, but they were suppressed; that 100,000 francs, which were to be paid as pensions, to persons pointed out by him, were never paid; and last, that assassins were sent to Elba to murder him. It must by no means be understood, that Napoleon uttered sweeping and indiscriminate censures upon those Englishmen who were opposed to him; even in acknowledging a repulse at Acre from Sir Sidney Smith, he speaks of him in terms of commendation, and says, "he liked his character."-Of Lord Cornwallis his sentiments are quite enthusiastic-of Sir John Moore he said, that he was "a brave soldier, an excellent officer, and a man of talent, and that the few mistakes he made were probably inseparable from the difficulties by which he was surrounded."-Mr. Fox, he said, was so great and so good a man, that every member of his family seemed to have taken a tinge from his virtues.-Speaking of Admiral Sir Pulteney Malcolm he said "his countenance bespeaks his heart, and I am sure he is a good man; I never yet beheld a man of whom I so immediately formed a good opinion as of that fine, soldier-like old manthere is the face of an Englishman— a countenance, pleasing, open, intelligent, frank, sincere."-Of Sir George Cockburn also, who appears to have done his duty strictly, but like a gentleman, he spoke in terms of commendation -On the subjects both of his elevation and his fall, he is extremely minute and interesting. Our readers may recollect two reports, which in this country certainly gained considerable currency; one, that Napoleon owed much of his rise to Barras; and the other, that he at one time in his early life offered his services to England. Both of these he declares to be 66 romans," and says, he did not know Barras till long after the siege of Toulon, where he was chiefly indebted to Gasparin, the deputy for Orange, who protected him against the ignorantacci sent down by the Convention; he goes on to say, that Paoli always anticipated his elevation, and when he was a boy used frequently to pat him on the head and say, You are one of Plutarch's men. On the subject of his fall, in answer to a question from Mr.O'Meara, whether he did not consider Baron Stein as mainly instrumental to it? he said immediately-" No-none but myself ever did me any harm; I was, I may say, the only enemy to myself; my own projects--that expedition to Moscow, and the accidents which happened there, were the causes of my fall. I may, however, say, that those who made no opposition to me, who read ily agreed with me, entered into all my views, and submitted with facility, were my greatest enemies; because, by the facility of conquest they afforded, they encouraged me to go too far." How happy would it be for the world if kings reflected upon this in time! In his exile, Napoleon seems to have solaced himself much with the idea that Marie Louise was strongly attached to him, and he was repeatedly recurring to the mention of the King of Rome. I ventured, said Mr. O'Meara, upon another occasion, to express my surprise to Napoleon, that the Empress Marie Louise had not made some exertion in his behalf. "I believe," replied the Emperor," that Marie Louise is just as much a state prisoner as I am myself, except that more attention is paid to decorum in the restraints imposed upon her. I have always had occasion to praise the conduct of my good Louise, and I believe that it is totally out of her power to assist me ; moreover, she is young and timorous. It was, perhaps, a misfortune to me, that I had not married a sister of the Emperor Alexander, as proposed to me by Alexander himself, at Erfurth. But there were inconveniencies in that union, arising from her religion. I did not like to allow a Russian priest to be the confessor of my wife, as I considered that he would have been a spy in the Thuilleries for Alexander. It has been said, that my union with Marie Louise was made a stipulation in the treaty of peace with Austria, which is not true. I should have spurned the idea. It was first proposed by the Emperor Francis himself, and by Metternich to Narbonne. BRACEBRIDGE-HAEL. BY GEOFFREY CRAYON, GENT. THE public often appears an ungenerous, at all times a suspicious patron, warm as a child in the first burst of its enthusiasm, and still displaying its infantine temper in its capricious mode of treating old favourites. But after all, its ungraciousness is more in semblance than in reality—its stock of favour and compliment has been already exhausted-and, too sincere to keep a reserve of admiration, it feels itself quite unable to meet a renewed demand. Hence, if the early publications of an author have met with eminent success, his later ones are sure to meet with rebuffs in seeming. The reader cannot abandon himself to admiration exclusively comparisons are forced on him; and if he have too much good nature to set about comparing the author with his brethren, he cannot avoid comparing him with himself-his present with his past productions. This is not likely to be in favour of the latter, since predilection for old favourites is only to be overcome by a very palpable degree of improvement. If subsequent publications meet with such a reception from the mere reader, what must they expect from the critic? from him, who cannot utter his dicta in ejaculations and monosyllables, but must lay down his pros and cons at length in dreadful legibility. From him the twice-told tale of unqualified admiration will not be suffered-"he is nothing, if not critical," and the new qualities put forth by the authors in review, must be the burden of his strain. Unfortunately, however, as a writer proceeds, he developes more defects than beauties-the defects thicken upon us, as he grows more confident and careless-while the beauties get threadbare by degrees, and become trite and mawkish by being harped upon. Hence criticism often seems to indulge in ungenerous "after-thought," and to recal spitefully the meed of praise it formerly bestowed, while, in truth, it is but censorious from necessity, and "severe from too much love." Besides, we may take liberties with an old and established friend,and abuse him good-naturedly to his face, while we leave our esteem and good opinion of him unspoken-as sentiments he might safely reckon upon, though never a word concerning them were uttered. After this, without mentioning the |