The next morning the Emperor was on horseback at four o'clock. The army was buried in profound repose. Thousands were destined before night to lie stiff and cold in the sleep of death. But such thoughts disturbed not the soldier as he sat watching the break of day, and listening earnestly for sounds that might tell him the movements of the foe. Presently his quick ear caught a low continuous murmur from beyond the heights of Pratzen, like the distant tread of marching columns, and he knew that the Allies were gathering their forces against his right wing. At this moment the sun slowly rose, gilding the opposite heights, and revealing their dense mass of moving infantry.

Soult was the first officer that day who waited on his master to receive his final commands. The Emperor paid his general a high and not unmerited compliment: "As for you, marshal," he said, "I have only to observe, act as you always do." 'The Allies' plan of operations was soon perceived. They were intent on outflanking the French, and weakened their centre by drawing off the troops to the left. The advantage afforded by this mistake was at once seen by the marshals who stood around Napoleon, and they eagerly demanded his permission to avail themselves of it. Before he replied, the Emperor turned to Soult, whose troops were stationed at the bottom of the valley, and asked him how long it would take them to reach the summit of Pratzen. "Less than twenty minutes," was the prompt answer. "Then, gentlemen," said Napoleon, "let us wait a little; when your enemy is executing a false movement, never interrupt him." It was eight o'clock in the morning, and, soon after, he gave his impatient officers the expected sigual. Soldiers!" he exclaimed, "the enemy has imprudently exposed himself to your strokes. Finish the campaign by a clap of thunder!” "Vive l'Empereur!" was the answering shout.

The several generals who had command of divisions parted like lightning from his side, and galloped to their respective corps; and Soult, at the head of his strong battalions, was seen a few moments after to emerge from the mists of the valley, and, bathed in the golden sunlight, ascend with an intrepid step the slopes of Pratzen. Gradually the glittering columns streamed

upwards. Then the height was suddenly enveloped in smoke, from whose bosom thunder and lightning belched out like a volcano playing in its fury. Two hosts were in mortal combat. For a couple of terrible hours nothing was heard but the roar of artillery,-nothing seen but the dense smoke which shut in the combatants like a curtain. At last the cloud lifted, the sound of firing grew still, and a victorious shout welcomed the sight of the French standard waving on the top of Pratzen. The enemy's centre was pierced, and the Allied army completely severed. For the purpose of restoring the communication the Russian guards made a desperate assault on Soult's division, and the French infantry were for a moment staggered by the impetuous charge; but Bessière, advancing with the Imperial Guard to the rescue, the Russians at length, after displaying the utmost valour, gave way before the veterans, leaving their artillery and standards to the conquerors.

It was a bloody field; and the fierce and relentless nature of war was never more strikingly displayed than in an incident that marked the close of the strife. It shows us how the soldier, in the excitement of battle, if he displays some of the loftier attributes of humanity in his consummate skill, energy, and resolution, becomes dead to its soft and holy sensibilities; and, in swelling into the hero, ceases in some particulars to be a man. The enemy were worsted; seven thousand in this part of the field fell under the victorious French; and the remainder were attempting to escape by crossing a frozen lake. In a moment the white surface was covered with dark masses of infantry and a few squadrons of cavalry. The ice could barely sustain the enormous weight, when Soult suddenly ordered his cannon to play on it. The fragile platform cracked,-yielded, the whole gave way, and, with a yell that rose above the tumult of battle, two thousand men sunk into a watery grave.

The rout was general. Thirty thousand men lay dead upon the field of battle. Napoleon's loss was twelve thousand. Soult was the hero of the day; and the Emperor said to him, iu the presence of his assembled officers, "Marshal Soult, you are the ablest tactician in Europe." "Sire," replied the other, with a felicity of expression

In the campaigns of 1806, and 1807, Soult served with distinction in Prussia and Poland; and at the battle of Jena contributed to the brilliant issue of the day. In all the subsequent operations in Prussia he greatly distinguished himself, and rendered important services, especially on the field of Eylau. The French were placed in a critical position; thousands lay dead or wounded on the ground, and the Emperor, discouraged by his enormous loss, was about to retreat, when the Marshal exclaimed, "Let us stay where we are, sir, and we shall pass for the conquerors and reap the moral fruits of a victory. I see movements which make me think that the Russians will retreat during the night." Napoleon, who was well acquainted with Soult's sagacity and penetration, yielded to his advice, which the result fully justified; and the Marshal was rewarded by being created Duke of Dalmatia.

Soult's military career was now transferred to Spain, where he was brought into immediate conflict with British commanders. His first mission in the Peninsula was the pursuit of Sir John Moore, whose retreat he greatly harassed, but whose forces he did not venture openly to attack until they reached Corunna. The Emperor, who had entered Spain to superintend the campaign in person, was recalled to Paris by the operations of Austria, and Soult was at this time left in supreme command. It was the design of the English general to reach his ships for the purpose of embarking, and passing round by sea to the South, an intention in which the French marshal vainly sought to intercept him. The decisive trial of strength took place at Corunna on the western coast of Portugal. The English force amounted to less than fifteen thousand men; that under Soult was upwards of twenty thousand. Whilst observing the battle and animating the troops by words of

desperately wounded by a cannon ball, and was borne from the field of his fame. The dying hero saw, however, that the enemy were in flight, that the battle was virtually won, and the great object gained which his genius and daring had proposed. During the night Sir John Moore was buried with his military cloak for a shroud, in the citadel of Corunna, and the next morning the French saw their opponents standing out to sea.

Soult displayed on this occasion a soldier's generosity. Touched by the affecting end of his gallant adversary, he caused a monument to be erected to record his virtues and his bravery. "Sir John Moore," he has written since to Col. Napier, with a manly frankness greatly to his credit, “always made his dispositions most suitable to the circumstances in which he was placed, and by skilfully taking advantage of every opportunity his position gave him of seconding valour by stratagem, he invariably offered a resistance the most energetic and cautious to my movements. He found a glorious death before Corunna, in a combat which will reflect lasting honour on his memory."

After the embarkation of the English troops, the Duke of Dalmatia for some time met with nothing like a systematic opposition in Portugal.

He

took Oporto, capturing immense magazines of powder, a hundred and ninetyseven pieces of artillery, and thirty English vessels wind-bound in the rivers. It was whilst administering the affairs of the territory he had thus conquered, that the foundation was laid of a story which for some time obtained general currency; namely, that Soult was intriguing for an independent crown. Overtures were no doubt made to him by a party inimical to the house of Braganza, and addresses sent in, bearing the signatures of thirty thousand persons.

So far, however, from obtaining the throne of Portugal, if such had been his desire, the Marshal was unable to effect the military subjugation of the country. The undisciplined peasants rose against him, and at length his formidable competitor, Sir Arthur Wellesley, appeared on the scene. Soult was surprised at the passage of the Douro, opposite to Oporto, Sir Arthur accomplishing that celebrated passage

of the river which laid the foundation of his military fame in Europe, and elicited the significant remark from Napoleon, "C'est un bon général." The Marshal at once evacuated the city, sacrificing his artillery and baggage, as the only means of rescuing his army from their danger. From the commencement of this forced retreat, all his operations were marked by talent and decision. His firmness and constancy at the head of his distracted army were heroic. Reduced almost to starvation, his troops at length approached the river Cavodo, when word was brought him that the peasants were destroying the only bridge across it. If they succeeded Soult knew his last hour had come, for by morning the English guns would be thundering in his rear, and he had not one to answer them. His countenance was unmoved by the intelligence, and calling Major Dulong to him, he told him to pick out a hundred grenadiers and twenty-five horsemen, and surprise the guard and seize the passage. "If you succeed," he said, "send me word; if you fail, your silence will be sufficient." A long and painful interval followed, when the sound, "The bridge is won," fell on the ears of the Marshal. The army reached Orense in safety, but barefooted, and without ammunition or a single cannon.

The history of the Peninsular war is far too complicated for us to narrate it. The Duke of Dalmatia was crippled in most of his movements by the jealousy of the King, Joseph, and the quarrelling of rival chiefs. The disastrous battle of Talavera was fought in direct opposition to his advice; though he afterwards effected a junction with Ney and Mortier which enabled him to pursue Sir Arthur Wellesley to the very confines of Spain. Amidst many difficulties he succeeded in maintaining the French authority in the Peninsula until he was recalled to support the throne of his master in Germany, after the fatal expedition to Russia. He was present at the great battle of Bautzen, and at Dresden heard of the defeat of the French army at Vittoria, which placed the whole of the Peninsula at the disposal of Wellington.

Soult was at once selected as the most likely general in the Grand Army to retrieve the fortunes of the war, and despatched for this purpose to Spain. But it was too late to check the vic

torious career of Wellington. The Marshal made the most heroic efforts, and defended his successive positions with unshrinking resolution. For two days he held his entrenched camp at Bayonne, against the Allies; and, obliged at length to relinquish this, he contested the field of Orthés, on the 27th of February, 1814, but was defeated. Issuing a furious proclamation on behalf of Napoleon, the Duke of Dalmatia then made his final and desperate resistance to the triumphant enemy, under the walls of Toulouse. In this terrible battle, the French lost five generals, and more than two thousand men; and the Allies four generals, and four thousand six hundred men. abandoned the city on the night of the 11th, leaving behind him his heavy guns, and sixteen hundred wounded men. At this juncture, the Marshal, receiving certain intelligence that the cause of his Imperial master was irretrievably lost, gave in his submission to the Duke of Angoulême, and handed over to his Royal Highness the command of the army.

Soult

The restored King forgave him his devotion to the Emperor, to whose appreciation of his many great qualities he owed the rapid advance of his fortunes; confirmed him in his rank and dignities; named him to the command of the thirteenth military division; and shortly afterwards entrusted him with the portfolio of the Minstry of War. He was in the occupancy of this office when the Emperor suddenly returned from Elba. The conduct of Soult, at this juncture, had been made the subject of severe, and, we think, not undeserved animadversion. That the charges brought against him by the Bourbons, of having been cognisant of the intended landing of Napoleon on the shores of France; and having used his power, as the King's minister, so to dispose of the Royal troops as to leave the way open to the invader,—were wholly destitute of foundation, we are forced to believe, on the exculpatory arguments the Marshal has himself published, in his "Memoire Justificatif;" and on the express authority of Bonaparte, who said at St. Helena, "Soult did not betray Louis, nor was he privy to my return. For some days he thought that I was mad, and that I must certainly be lost. He really

was not privy to it." We conceive that to

whatever accusations his memory is justly exposed, they may be urged rather by the Imperial than the Legitimist party. For fifteen years he had shared the confidence, and prospered on the favour of an indulgent master; he had been literally made in his service; and we cannot remember these facts, and then read without pain the language of the proclamation, which bore the signature of "Le Maréchal Duc de Dalmatie," the very titles the bounty of Napoleon had conferred on him. "Soldiers!" he says, "that man who has lately abdicated, in the face of Europe, a usurped power, of which he made so fatal a use, Bonaparte, has descended on the French soil, which he ought never to have seen again. What does he desire? Civil war. Whom does he seek? Traitors. Where will he find them? Will it be among the soldiers whom he has deceived and sacrificed a thousand times? Will it be in the bosom of their families, through which his very name sends a shudder?" &c. A few days afterwards Soult was at the court and camp of the Emperor, who rewarded him for his adhesion, by creating him a Peer of France, and appointing him Major-General of the army. The Duke now issued a new proclamation, bearing date the 2d of June, in which he declares, “A new oath unites France to the Emperor. Thus are the destinies of the nation accomplished, and all the efforts of an impious league cannot longer separate the interests of a great people from that of the hero, who, by his brilliant victories, has been the admiration of the universe."

The blot on the memory of the Marshal is not that he sustained and served successive de facto Governments in France; but that he consented to become the mouthpiece of violent Royalist tirades against the master to whom he was indebted for all his public consideration, and evinced ingratitude to his memory after his final fall.

Soult's last field was Waterloo. The beginning of June, he left Paris for Flanders, to direct the operations of the army until Napoleon could arrive to conduct the campaign in person. The Duke's conduct, during this critical period in Napoleon's fortune, was characterised by less vigour and ability than had marked his earlier career.

After the rout of the Imperial Army, he returned to Paris; and, on the capitulation of the capital, retired into seclusion. Being included in the ordinance of the 24th July, he withdrew with his family to Dusseldorf.

It was on this occasion that he issued the "Memoire Justificatif," to which reference has been made; and his extreme anxiety to conciliate Royal favour is conspicuous in every page. Of the King, he writes: "I have received from him nothing but expressions of esteem and confidence, and cannot be ungrateful;" and of the Emperor: "The entire army knows that I never had cause but to complain of this man, and that no man more frankly detested his tyrannies, even whilst serving him with zeal and fidelity."

In May, 1829, Marshal Soult received permission to return to France, and the following year his baton was restored to him. He took little part in public affairs, however, during the reign of Charles X.; but, on the accession of Louis Philippe, gave in his adhesion to the new Government, and accepted a high post in the Ministry. He presided at first over the Department of War, and was afterwards made President of the Council. Since the Revolution of 1848, he lived in great retirement till his death.

In 1838, Marshal Soult was a visitor to England. He came on a peaceful mission, to represent the "Citizen King" of France at the coronation of our Most Gracious Sovereign. Those who witnessed the gay scenes of that epoch will not forget the brilliant equipage of the venerable soldier, or his own noble bearing. He received an enthusiastic welcome from the people, and enjoyed much intimacy with his illustrious antagonist, the Duke of Wellington, with whom on several occasions he appeared in public, to the great delight of all sight-seers. He was abundantiy gratified at his friendly reception amongst all classes.

The Duke of Dalmatia died at Soultberg on the 26th November, 1851.

He was almost the last illustrious relic of the age over which the genius of Napoleon threw so fitful and unstable à splendour. One marshal of the empire yet survives, but in obscurity, and with tarnished fame. With this exception, all the men who

were pillars of the Emperor's throne have followed their master to the grave, leaving behind them nothing but the memory of the destructive struggles and unavailing conquests associated with their names. The world was full of the fame of their valour; and where are its fruits?

We need no other memento to teach us the folly of war. Waged on a scale of unparalleled magnitude, and embellished by a series of unexampled victories, it ended, with its great hero in exile; Europe exhausted and impoverished; and France herself, with lessened territory, crippled resources, a restricted freedom, and no other inheritance to console her for her protracted suffering than a "glorious name." Of what can she boast to-day, in exchange for her squandered treasure, and her blood spilled like water? The same sun that gilded the heights of Austerlitz, shines now upon fairest provinces under martial law, her fortresses filled with illustrious citizens, her constitution trampled under foot, and every form of liberty destroyed by the hands of despotic power.

her

And, still pressing like an incubus on her political life, and burdening her future with mountains of debt, the vast army of France remains. It may adorn a public pageant, or subserve the schemes of dynastic ambition, but cannot foster the institutions of freedom, nor contribute to the political or material development of a great people. Would the true glory of La Belle France at this moment,-her happiness at home, her just influence abroad,-have been less, if Napoleon, his marshals, and his armaments, had never overrun Europe, and set their feet on the necks of kings?

THE LATE BISHOP OF

NORWICH.

THE following narrative shows us how a man can live a useful and Christian life, and pass away from this scene of action full of years, and full of honours, and leave behind him a fame which kings and conquerors might envy. We shall not attempt any high-flown style to present to our readers a flattering picture; but by a simple narrative of facts record the principal doings of a great and a good man.

Edward Stanley, Bishop of Norwich, was born on the 1st of January, 1779. He was a younger son of Sir John Thomas Stanley, the sixth Baronet, of Alderley, in Cheshire, by Margaret, the heiress of Hugh Owen, Esq., of Cenrhos, Anglesea. He was brother to Lord Stanley, of Alderley, who was raised to the peerage in 1839. Besides being Bishop of Norwich, he was Clerk of the Closet to the Queen, President of the Linnæan Society, and a Fellow of the Royal Society.

Dr. Stanley's childhood was strongly marked with characteristics which never deserted him,-a sanguine temper, active mind, quick decision, and a resolute will. He likewise manifested an ardent love of the sea, which, throughout life, formed a singularly prominent feature in his career. In the indefatigable prosecution of his duties, he is said to have regarded the church or diocese under his care as a ship, and himself its commander. The discipline and regularity with which he conducted his duties bore this characteristic in a striking degree; and, judging from his subsequent movements, it may be safely concluded, that he would have been no less distinguished as a naval commander, than as Rector of Alderley, or Bishop of Norwich. His early education appears to have been irregular and defective, and it was only on his entrance of St. John's College, Cambridge, in 1798, that he applied himself to a regular course of study. Here he did not distinguish himself beyond the attainments of an ordinary student; but what he did acquire must be mainly ascribed to his zealous application. He graduated B. A. in 1802, and M. A. in 1805. He took holy orders in 1802, and entered upon the curacy of Windlesham in Surrey. In 1805, his father presented him with the family living of Alderley, in Cheshire. The religious and moral condition of this place, when Dr. Stanley commenced his labours, was most deplorable. The parish had been much neglected by the former rector. The people were dissolute and depraved; the means of education, either secular or religious, were much below their requirements, and the new rector found before him a rough up-hill road. But the introduction of a man of Edward

Stanley's temperament, showed how much might be done to elevate the