Go.'

wilt give the coup de boutoir; and then if Grouchy
arrives the day is ours.
Ney went, and gave the coup de boutoir; but
Grouchy never came.

12,000 men of Milhaud and Kellermann; thou wilt much acrimony, and with justice in the wait until my old grumblers have found thee; thou main. As for the déroute of the English being stopped at the village of Waterloo, the tears of the duke as he was chassé from one square to another-these and other points stated we leave to be judged by military authorities, having here no call to contra dict them. But what may be said honestly with regard to the author, without stopping to question his details, is, that his feeling is manly, and not unkindly towards his ene my; and that it is pleasant to find Frenchmen at last begin to write in this way. He is beaten, and wants to have his revenge : every generous spirit they say wishes the same: and the sentiment is what is called "all fair."

"From this you should take the road to Genappes and Brussels across the farm of Belle Alliance, where Blucher and Wellington met after the battle; and following the road, you presently come to the last point to which Napoleon advanced, and where he saw that it was not Grouchy but Blucher who was coming up, like Desaix at Marengo, to gain a lost battle. Fifty yards off the right you stand in the very spot occupied by the square into which Napoleon flung himself, and where he did all he could to die. Each English volley carried away whole ranks round about him; and at the head of each new rank as it formed, Napoleon placed himself: his brother Jerome from behind endeavoring in vain to draw him back, while a brave Corsican officer, General Campi, came forward with equal coolness each time, and placed himself and his horse between the Emperor and the enemy's batteries. At last, after three quarters of an hour of carnage, Napoleon turned round to his brother: "It appears,' said he, that death will have none of us as yet. Jerome, take the command of the army. I am sorry to have known thee so late.' With this, giving his hand

to his brother, he mounted a horse that was brought him, passed like a miracle through the enemy's ranks, and arriving at Genappes, tried for a moment to rally the army. Seeing his efforts were vain, he got on horseback again, and arrived at Laon on the night of the 19-20th.

66

beats the English, let him reflect that the But suppose Dumas has his revenge and English will want their chance again: and that we may go on murdering each other. for ever and ever unless we stop somewhere: and why not now as well as on a future day? Promising mutually (and ob, what a comfort would it be to hear Waterloo no longer talked of after dinner!) not to boast any more of the victory on this side of the water, and not to threaten revenge for it on the other.

Here we have another instance of absurd warlike spirit.

satisfaction.

Five-and-twenty years have passed away since "The court of Berlin never allows an opportuthat epoch, and it is only now that France begins nity to escape of showing its envious and antito comprehend that for the liberty of Europe this revolutionary hatred of France. France on her defeat was necessary: though still profoundly en-side takes Waterloo to heart; so that, with a little raged and humiliated that she should have been good will on the part of the ministers of either marked out as the victim. In looking too, round this field where so many Spartans fell for her; the country, matters may be arranged to every body's Orange pyramid in the midst of it, the tombs of "For ourselves, who have faith in the future, we Gordon and the Hanoverians round about; you would propose to King Louis Philippe, instead of look in vain for a stone, a cross, or an inscription that ridiculous pancarte which is used as the arms to recall our country. It is because, one day, God of revolutionary France, to emblazon the escutwill call her to resume the work of universal deli-cheon of our country in the following way: verance commenced by Bonaparte and interrupted by Napoleon, and then, the work done, we will turn the head of the Nassau Lion towards Europe, and all will be said."

If in future ages, when the French nation have played the part of liberators of the world (which it seems they will play whether the world asks them or not), it will be any accommodation to France, that the tail of the Lion of Nassau should be turned towards that country, according to Dumas's notable plan, there can be no harm in indulging her in so very harmless a fancy. Conqueror never surely put forward a less selfish wish than this. Meanwhile the English reader will be pleased, we think, with M. Dumas's lively and picturesque description of the ground of this famous field: which is written too, as we believe, with not too

"In the first quarter, the Gallic cock with which we took Rome and Delphi.

"In the second, Napoleon's eagle with which we took Cairo, Berlin, Vienna, Madrid, and Mos

COW.

“In the third, Charlemagne's bees with which we took Saxony, Spain, and Lombardy.

"In the fourth, the fleur-de-lys of Saint Louis with which we took Jerusalem, Mansourah, Tunis, Milan, Florence, Naples, and Algiers.

"Then we should take a motto, which we would try to keep better than William of Holland did his "Deus dedit, Deus dabit, and we should just have the finest escutcheon in the world."

You rob a man of his purse: you are seized by a posse of constables whom the man calls, and obliged to give up the purse, being transported or whipped very likely for your pains. 'Rome, Delphi, Jerusalem,

"And if we arrived before the hour?"
"The conductor would be punished.'
"And if after?'

"He would be punished in like manner.' "Upon my word the arrangement is satisfactory." "Every thing is satisfactory in Prussia.'

Vienna,' and the rest, are so many instances of the system: but though religion is always commendable, it is surely in this instance misapplied; nor has the footpad who cries "Money or your life," much right to say Deus dedit as he pockets the coin. Let M. Dumas, a man of the pen, ex- "I bowed in token of assent, for I would not for pose the vainglories of these hectoring the world have contradicted a gentleman whose practitioners of the sword, and correct them political convictions seemed to be so firm. My as one with his great authority might do and emboldened by that, and by his polite and approbation seemed to give him great pleasure, correcting in future editions such incendia-succinct manner of answering my former ques

ry passages as that quoted above, and of which the commencement, a manifest provocation to the Prussians, might provoke woes unnumbered," were the latter to take the hint.

As soon as he enters the Prussian territory, our author looks about him with a very cautious air, and smartly reprehends the well-known tyranny of "his Majesty Frederick William."

"We arrived in the coach-yard just as the horses were put to. There were lucky places in the interior, which I took, and was putting my ticket into my pocket, when my friend M. Poulain told me in the first place to read it.

"For the convenience of travellers, it is written in German and French. I found that I had the fourth place in the coach, and that I was forbidden to change places with my neighbor, even with the consent of the latter. This discipline altogether military, acquainted me, even more than did the infernal jargon of the postilion, that we were about to enter the possessions of his Majesty Frederick William.

“I embraced M. Poulain, and at the appointed hour we set off.

"As I had a corner place, the tyranny of his Majesty the King of Prussia did not appear altogether insupportable, and I must confess that I fell as profoundly asleep as if we had been travelling in the freest country in the world. At about three o'clock, however, that is to say, just at daybreak, I was awakenend by the stoppage of the carriage.

"I thought at first some accident must have happened; that we were either on a bank or in the mud; and put my head out of window. I was mistaken regarding the accident, nothing of the kind had happened. We were standing alone upon the finest road possible.

"I took my billet out of my pocket. I read it once more carefully through: and having ascertained that I was not forbidden to address my neighbor, I asked him how long we had been stationary.

"About twenty minutes,' he said. "And may I, without indiscretion,' I rejoined, 'take the liberty to ask why we are stopping?' "We are waiting.'

tions, I was encouraged to put some new ones.

"I beg pardon, sir,' continued I, 'but will you favor me by stating at what hour the conductor ought to arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle.'

"At thirty-five minutes past five.' "But suppose his watch goes slow?' "Watches never go slow in Prussia.' "Have the goodness to explain that circumstance to me if you please.' "It is very simple.'

""Let us see?"

"The conductor has before him, in his place, a clock locked up in a case, and that is regulated by the clock at the Diligence office. He knows at what hour he ought to arrive at this or that town, and presses or delays his postilions accordingly, so that he may arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle exactly at thirty-five minutes past five.'

"I am sorry to be so exceedingly troublesome, sir; but your politeness is such that I must venture on one question more.' "Well, sir?""

"Well, sir, with all these precautions, how happens it that we are forced to wait now?"

"It is most probably because the conductor did as you did, fell asleep; and the postilion profited of this, and went quicker.'

"Oh that's it, is it? Well then I think I will take advantage of the delay and get out of the coach.'

"People never get out of the coach in Prus

sia.'

"That's hard, certainly. I wanted to look at yonder castle on your side of the road.' "That is the castle of Emmaburg.' "What was the castle of Emmaburg?' "The place where the nocturnal adventure took place between Eginhard and Emma.'

"Indeed! will you have the kindness to change places with me, and let me look at the castle from your side?'

"I would with pleasure, but we are not allowed to change places in Prussia.'

"Peste! I had forgotten that,' said I.

"Ces tiaples de Franzés, il être trés pavards,' said, without unclosing his eyes, a fat German, who sat gravely in a corner opposite to me, and who had not opened his lips since we left Liége.

"What was that you said, sir?' said I, turn

"Oh, we are waiting: and what are we wait-ing briskly round towards him, and not over well

ing for ??

We are waiting for the time.' "What time?'

"The time when we have the right to arrive.'
"There is then a fixed hour for arriving?"
"Every thing is fixed in Prussia.'

satisfied with his observation.

"Che ne tis rien, ché tors.'

"You do very well to sleep, sir. But I recommend you not to dream out loud: do you understand me? Or if you do dream, dream in your native language.'

rage as he has before exhibited his wit, a fat German placed expressly in a corner wakes just at the proper moment and says, lètre trés pavards le Franzés. Vous DITES MONSIEUR? says Alexander with a scowl, turning round vivement towards the German: and so, his points being made, the postilion cries Vorwarts, and off they go. It is just like the Porte Saint Martin. If the postilion did not cry forwards, or Buridan did

ment, the whole scene would have been spoiled. Of course, then, Buridan is warned by the call-boy, and is waiting at the slips, to rush on at the required moment.

We have given this story at full length, not because it is true, which it certainly is not; or because if it were true, the truth would be worth knowing: but as a specimen of the art of book-making, which could never have been produced by any less experienced workman than the great dramatist Alexander Dumas. The reader won't fail to see, how that pretty little drama is arranged, and the personages kept up. Mark the easy air which the great traveller as-not appear with his dagger at that very mosumes in putting his questions; the cool, sneering politeness, which, as a member of the Great Nation, he is authorized to assume when interrogating a subject of "his Majesty Frederick William." What point No reader will have been so simple, we there is in those brief cutting questions! imagine, as to fancy this story contains a what meekness in the poor German's re-single word of truth in it; or that Dumas plies! All the world is on the laugh, while held the dialogue which he has written; or the great Frenchman is playing his man off; that the German really did cry out, ce and every now and then he turns round to Franzé, &c. quiet old Germans do not his audience with a knowing wink and a speak French in their sleep, or for the purgrin, bidding us be delighted with the ab-pose of insulting great fierce swaggering surdities of this fellow. He wonders that Frenchmen who sit with them in coaches: there should be a fixed hour for a coach to above all, Germans do not say che affre and arrive. Why should there? Coaches do il être. French Germans do: that is, Brunot arrive at fixed hours in France. There net and Levassor speak on the stage so, they are contented with a dirty diligence when called upon to represent Blum or (as our friend, the Naturforscher, called it Fritz in the play; just as they say, “yase" in the last number of this Review), and, and "godem" by way of English. Nay, so after travelling three miles an hour, to ar- ignorant are the French generally of the rive some time or other. As coaches do not German language, that unless the character arrive at stated hours in France, why should were called Blum or Fritz, and said che affre, they in any other countries? If four miles and so on, no one would know that the peran hour are good enough for a Frenchman, sonage was a German at all. They are acought they not to satisfy a German forsooth? customed to have them in that way: but This is point one. A very similar joke was let not M. Dumas fancy that Germans say in the Débats newspaper in September; che affre in their own country, any more than wherein, speaking of German railroads and that Kean (whose life he wrote in his traengineers, the Débats said, “ at least, with - gedy, which he says was very popular in out depreciating the German engineers in Germany) was banished to Botany Bay by the least, they will concede that about rail-the Prince Regent for making love to his roads our engineers must naturally know Royal Highness's mistress. more than they do." To be sure there is They say, and with some reason, that we ten times as much railroad in Germany as have obtained for ourselves the hatred of in France; but are the French writers Europe, by our contemptuous assumption called upon to know this fact? or if known, of superiority in our frequent travels: but to depreciate their own institutions in con- is it truth, or is it mere national prejudice ? sequence? No, no : and so M. Dumas does | It has seemed to us, that the French away well to grin and sneer at the German. from home are even more proud of country See how he follows the fellow up with than we: certainly more loud in their askilling sarcasms! You arrive at a certain sertions of superiority; and with a pride hour, do you? and what is this hour, cette far more ferocious in its demeanor. There heure, this absurd hour, at which the dili- can, however, be no harm for any young gence comes in? He is prepared to find British traveller who may be about to make something comic even in that. Then he is his first tour filled with prejudices, and facetious about the timekeeper: a thing what is called patriotism, to read well the that must be ridiculous, because, as we pre- above dialogue, and draw a moral theresume, a French conductor does not use | from. Let him remark how Dumas, wishone. And, finally, in order to give the ing to have a most majestic air, in reality Frenchman an opportunity to show his cou- cuts a most ridiculous figure: let him allow

how mean the Frenchman's affectations of leave to say that this statement is a pure superiority are, his contempt for Jordan as fib: a fib like the coach-conversation; a compared with "Abana and Pharphar," and fib like the adventure at Liege, where Duhis scorn for the usages of the country mas says they would give him nothing to which he is entering, for its coaches, its eat because they mistook him for a Flamanners, and men: and, having remarked mand; a fib like the history of the two Engthat all these airs which the Frenchman lishmen whom he meets at Bonn, and whom gives himself result from stupid conceit on he leaves drunk amidst fourteen empty bothis part, that he often brags of superiority tles of Johannisberger and Champagne, and in cases where he is manifestly inferior, whom he finds on board the steamer on a and is proud merely of ignorance and dul-future day, where he causes them to drink ness (which are, after all, not matters to be proud of): perhaps having considered these points in the Frenchman's conduct, the young Briton will take care to shape his own so as to avoid certain similar failings in which, abroad, his countrymen are said to fall.

where Sand was executed; and comes provided from Frankfort with a letter of recommendation to a gentleman by the name of Widemann, who can give him a great deal of information on the subject.

fourteen bottles more. The story is too long to extract, but such is the gist of it. One of the Englishmen he calls Lord B—, the other Sir Patrick Warden. He describes them as always on the river between Mayence and Cologne, always intoxicated, and drinking dozens of Johannisberger. It is From Aix-la-Chapelle the adventurous always in novels that Johannisberger is traveller goes to Cologne, and thence actu- drunk in this way; it is only great French ally all the way up the Rhine to Strasburg: dramatists that fall in with these tipsy ec. visiting Coblentz, Mayence, Frankfort, Man-centric Anglais: the wonder is that he did heim, and Baden. That he has not much not set them boxing after their wine, as all to say regarding these places may be sup- French Englishmen do. posed; for not more than two or three At Manheim there were historical souvehours were devoted to each city, and with nirs which were of no small interest to the all the "preparatory studies" possible, two French dramatist, and he records at great or three hours will hardly enable a man to length the history of Sand. He visits the find any thing new in places which are ex-house where Kotzbue was killed; the field plored by hundreds of thousands of travellers every season. Hence, as he has to fill two volumes with an account of his five days' journey, he is compelled to resort to history and romance wherewith to fill his pages now giving a description of the French armies on the Rhine, now amplifying a legend from the guide-book: and though, as may be supposed, he Frenchifies the tales, whatever they may be, we are bound to say that his manner of relating them is lively, brilliant, and amusing; and that the hours pass by no means disagreeably as we listen to the energetic, fanciful, violent French chronicler. For the telling of legends, as already shown in the notice of M. Dumas's book about Crimes in a former part of this Review, the dramatic turn of the traveller's mind is by no means dis advantageous: but in all the descriptions of common life, on which he occasionally condescends to speak, one is forced to receive his assertions with a great deal of caution: nay, if the truth must be told, to disbelieve every one of them.

What a delighted dramatist must Alexander Dumas have been! This M. Widemann, Doctor of Medicine, living at Heidelberg, was no other than the hereditary executioner of Baden! His father cut off Sand's head; the son has never been called upon to execute his office on any criminal, but showed Alexander Dumas the very sword with which Sand had been killed; there were spots of rust upon the blade where the poor enthusiast's blood had fallen on it.

young man

"M. Widemann was a handsome of thirty or two-and-thirty years of age. His hair was black, his complexion dark, and his whiskers were cut so as to surround his whole lace. He presented himself with perfect ease and elegance, and asked 'What had procured him the unexpected honor of my visit?"

"I confess that for the moment I had not a word to say in answer. I contented myself by We have given one specimen in the Dili-holding out the letter of M. D- which he gence dialogue, and could extract many others as equally apocryphal. For in stance, there is a long story to bear out a discovery made by M. Dumas that there is no such thing as bread in Germany. Now with all respect for genius, we must take

read, and then asked, bowing again, In what he could be useful to me? I am at your orders,' said he, 'to give you all the information in my power. Unluckily,' he continned, with a slight ironical accent, I am not a very curious executioner, having as yet executed no one. But, you must not, sir, be angry with me on that account:

it is not my fault, it is the fault of these good Germans who do nothing deserving of death, and of our excellent Grand Duke, who pardons as much as he can.'

"Sir,' said I, it is M. le Docteur Widemann that I am come to see; the son of the man, who in accomplishing his terrible duty on poor Sand, still exhibited towards the unhappy young man a respect which might have compromised those who showed it.'

"There was little merit in that, sir. Every man loved and pitied Sand; and certainly if my father had thought any sacrifice on his part could have saved the criminal, he would have cut off his right hand rather than have executed the sentence. But Sand was condemned, and it was necessary

that he should suffer.' .

have been otherwise met.

"And what is this one thing row,' said M. Widemann, with the same sarcastic smile that I

except to satisfy the curiosity of strangers who are good enough to honor with a visit the poor house of the executioner of Heidelberg.'

"I saw that the moment was come for me to take my leave, and giving M. Widemann the promise he demanded, I saluted and left him.

"It was the first time that in half an hour's conversation I was ever so completely floored (roulé): not having found during the whole time, a single chance to take my revenge.

"Nevertheless I kept my promise to M. Widemann: and no doubt our common prayer was efficacious, for I have not heard that since my visit he has had occasion to take the rust off his sword." of M. Alexandre Dumas it is not for us to With regard to the efficacy of the prayers Thank you, sir,' answered I, for speak. But we may question the taste of your politeness in receiving a visit which might the individual who could go so far for the There purpose of viewing so disgusting a relic; is one thing more, which must be in your posses- who could insult this unhappy gentleman sion, and which I would like to see, though in truth (as the executioner appears to be), for the I scarcely know how to ask for it.' satisfaction of acuriosity which was neither more nor less than brutal; and who can talk with a sneer of praying to the Almighty that the poor executioner's hand might be kept from blood. It is a serious thing, O Dumas, to talk even in Melodramas or Impressions de Voyage about praying and killing. Even in fifth acts of plays there may be too much poetic murdering ; whereby (to carry out the Alexandre-Dumatic metaphor) the brightness of the imagination is stained. car la rouille comme on le sait reparaît presque toujours aux endroits que le sang a taché.

had before remarked in him.

"Pardon me,' said I, but you do not encourage ine to make my demand.'

·

He at once changed his expression. Pray excuse me,' said he, what is it you desire to see? I shall have great pleasure in showing it to you.' "The sword with which Sand was beheaded.' "A deep blush passed over M. Widemann's face as I spoke but shaking his head as if to shake the blush away, he said,

I

"I will show it you, sir, but you will find it in bad condition. Thanks be to God, it has not been used for twelve years, and for my part this will be the first time I ever shall have touched it. Had known that I was about to have the honor of your However, to do the dramatist justice, he visit I would have had it cleaned: but you know, sir, is by no means so bloody-minded now as he better than any one, that this visit was quite unex- was in earlier youth: and he has grown pected by me.' With these words he quitted the more moral too, and decent, so that ladies, room, leaving me much more embarrassed than he skipping such Borgian temptations as are could be himself. However, I had taken the fool-noted in a former part of this Review, may, ish part and resolved to play it out.

"In a moment M. Widemann returned, holding a large sword without a sheath. It was broader at the end than towards the hilt. The blade was hollow, and contained a certain quantity of quicksilver, which in precipitating itself from the handle to the point gave a much greater force to the blow. On several parts of the blade there was a good deal of rust, for, as is known, the rust almost always reappears upon the places where blood has

stained.

"Here is the sword that you asked to see, sir.' "I must make you new apologies for my indiscretion, and thank you once more for your complaisance,' answered I.

"Well sir, if you consider you owe me any thing for my complaisance, will you let me fix one condition upon it?'

"And what is that, sir?' "That is, that you will pray God as I do, sir, that I may never have occasion to touch this sword,

on the whole, find it possible to read him, When time shall have further softened an emphatic bullying manner, which leads him at present to employ the largest and fiercest words in place of simple and conciliating ones; and he shall cease to set down as armed castles all the peaceful windmills of every-day life; it is probable that we shall be indebted to him for much amusing reading. Some we have had already, as our readers know. For he has both humor and eloquence, and in spite of his hectoring manner his heart is both manly and kind. And so schooled down as we trust he will not fail to be, we may look forward to his writing a couple of thousand volumes, even more interesting than those which he has at present produced.