best way to treat such an absurd and outrageous ambition. To amuse myself with his earnestness, for such had it become, on the subject, I affected not to be indifferent to his allusions, and assumed all the delicate reserve of devoted admiration Many an hour have I lightened by watching the fidgety uneasiness the young count felt at my folly; for now instead of jesting, as before, he tried to reason me out of this insane ambition, and convince me that such pretensions were utter madness.

I was slowly convalescing, about five weeks after the amputation of my leg, when Polakzi entered my room one morning with an open letter in his hand. His cheek was flushed, and his air and manner greatly excited.

"Would you believe it, Tiernay,” said he, "Stadion writes me word from Vienna, that Napoleon has asked for the hand of the young Archduchess in marriage, and that the Emperor has

consented?"

"And am I not considered in this negotiation?" asked I, scarcely sup pressing a laugh.

"This is no time nor theme for jest," said he, passionately; "nor is it easy to keep one's temper at such a moment. A Hapsburgher Princess married to a low Corsican adventurer! to the

"Come, Polakzi," cried I, "these are not words for me to listen to; and having heard them, I may be tempted to say, that the honour comes all of the other side; and that he who holds all Europe at his feet ennobles the dynasty from which he selects his empress."

"I deny it fairly and fully deny it!" cried the passionate youth. "And every noble of this land would rather see the provinces of the empire torn from us, than a Princess of the Imperial House degraded to such an alliance!"

"Is the throne of France, then, so low?" said I, calmly.

"Not when the rightful Sovereign is seated on it," said he. "But are

we, the subjects of a legitimate monarchy, to accept as equals the lucky accidents of your Revolution? By what claim is a soldier of fortune the peer of King or Kaiser? I, for one, will never more serve a cause so degraded; and the day on which such humiliation is our lot shall be the last of my soldiering;" and so saying, he

rushed passionately from the room, and disappeared.

I mention this little incident here, not as in any way connecting itself with my own fortunes, but as illustrating what I afterwards discovered to be the universal feeling entertained towards this alliance. Low as Austria then was-beaten in every battle-her vast treasury confiscated-her capital in the hands of an enemy-her very existence as an empire threatened; the thought of this insult for such they deemed it-to the Imperial House, seemed to make the burden unendurable; and many who would have sacrificed territory and power for a peace, would have scorned to accept it at such a price as this.

I suppose the secret history of the transaction will never be disclosed; but living as I did, at the time, under the same roof with the royal family, I inclined to think that their counsels were of a divided nature; that while the Emperor and the younger Archdukes gave a favourable ear to the project, the Empress and the Archduke Charles as steadily opposed it. gossip of the day spoke of dreadful scenes between the members of the Imperial House, and some have since asserted that the breaches of affection that were then made never were reconciled in after life.

The

With these events of state or private history I have no concern. My position and my nationality, of course, excluded me from confidential intercourse with those capable of giving correct information; nor can I record anything beyond the mere current rumours of the time. This much, however, I could remark, that all whom conviction, policy, or, perhaps, bribery, inclined to the alliance, were taken into court favour, and replaced in the offices of the household, those whose opinions were adverse. A total change, in fact, took place in the persons of the Royal suite, and the Hungarian nobles, many of whom filled the "Hautes Charges," as they are called, now made way for Bohemian grandées, who were understood to entertain more favourable sentiments towards France. Whether in utter despair of the cause for which they had suffered so long and so much, or that they were willing to accept this alliance with the oldest dynasty of Europe as a compromise, I am unable to say; but so was it. Many of the

emigré nobility of France, the unflinching, implacable enemies of Buonaparte, consented to bury their ancient grudges, and were now seen accepting place and office in the Austrian household. This was a most artful flattery of the Austrians, and was peculiarly agreeable to Napoleon, who longed to legalise his position by a reconciliation with the old followers of the Bourbons, and who dreaded their schemes and plots far more than he feared all the turbulent violence of the "Faubourg." In one day, no fewer than three French nobles were appointed to places of trust in the household, and a special courier was sent off to Gratz to convey the appointment of maid of honour to a young French lady who lived there in exile.

Each of my countrymen on arriving came to visit me. They had all known my father by name, if not personally, and most graciously acknowledged me as one of themselves, a flattery they sincerely believed above all price.

I had heard much of the overweening vanity and conceit of the Legitimatists, but the reality far exceeded all my notions of them. There was no pretence, no affectation whatever about them. They implicitly believed that in "accepting the Corsican," as the phrase went, they were displaying a condescension and self-negation unparalleled in history. The tone of supe. riority thus assumed, of course made them seem supremely ridiculous to my eyes-I, who had sacrificed heavily enough for the Empire, and yet felt myself amply rewarded. But apart from these exaggerated ideas of themselves, they were most amiable, gentle mannered, and agreeable.

The ladies and gentlemen of what was called the "Service," associated all together, dining at the same table, and spending each evening in a handsome suite appropriated to themselves. Hither some one or other of the Imperial family occasionally came to play his whist, or chat away an hour in pleasant gossip; these distinguished visiters never disturbing in the slightest degree the easy tone of the society, nor exacting any extraordinary marks of notice or attention.

The most frequent guest was the Arch duke Louis, whose gaiety of temperament and easy humour induced him to pass nearly every evening with us. He was fond of cards, but liked

VOL. XXXVIII.-NO. CCXXVIII.

to talk away over his game, and make play merely subsidiary to the pleasure of conversation. As I was but an indifferent "whister," but a most admirable auditor, I was always selected to make one of his party.

It was on one of the evenings when we were so engaged, and the Archduke had been displaying a more than ordinary flow of good spirits and merriment, a sudden lull in the approving laughter, and a general subsidence of every murmur, attracted my attention. I turned my head to see what had occurred, and perceived that all the company had risen, and were standing with eyes directed to the open door.

"The Archduchess, your Imperial Highness!" whispered an aide-de-camp to the Prince, and he immediately rose from the table, an example speedily followed by the others. I grasped my chair with one hand, and with my sword in the other, tried to stand up, an effort which hitherto I had never accomplished without aid. It was all in vain-my debility utterly denied the attempt. I tried again, but overcome by pain and weakness, I was compelled to abandon the effort, and sink down on my seat, faint and trembling. By this time the company had formed into a circle, leaving the Archduke Louis alone in the middle of the room; I, to my increasing shame and confusion, being seated exactly behind where the Prince stood.

There was a hope for me still; the Archduchess might pass on through the rooms without my being noticed. And this seemed likely enough, since she was merely proceeding to the apartments of the Empress, and not to delay with us. This expectation was soon destined to be extinguished; for, leaning on the arm of one of her ladies, the young Princess came straight over to where Prince Louis stood. She said something in a low voice, and he turned immediately to offer her a chair; and there was I seated, very pale, and very much shocked at my apparent rude.

ness.

Although I had been presented before to the young Archduchess, she had not seen me in the uniform of the Corps de Guides (in which I now served as colonel), and never recognised me. She therefore stared steadily at me, and turned towards her brother as if for explanation.

"Don't you know him?" said the Archduke, laughing; "it's Colonel de

2 Z

Tiernay, and if he cannot stand up, you certainly should be the last to find fault with him. Pray sit quiet, Tiernay," added he, pressing me down on my seat; "and if you won't look so terrified, my sister will remember you."

"We must both be more altered than I ever expect if I cease to remember M. de Tiernay," said the Archduchess, with a most courteous smile. Then leaning

on the back of a chair, she bent forward and inquired after my health. There was something so strange in the situation: a young, handsome girl condescending to a tone of freedom and intimacy with one she had seen but a couple of times, and from whom the difference of condition separated her by a gulf wide as the great ocean, that I felt a nervous tremor I could not account for. Perhaps, with the tact that Royalty possesses as its own prerogative, or, perhaps, with mere womanly intuition, she saw how the interview agitated me, and, to change the topic, she suddenly said

"I must present you to one of my ladies, Colonel de Tiernay, a countrywoman of your own. She already has heard from me the story of your noble devotion, and now only has to learn your name. Remember you are to sit still."

As she said this, she turned, and drawing her arm within that of a young lady behind her, led her forward.

"It is to this gentleman I owe my life, Mademoiselle D'Estelles."

I heard no more, nor did she either; for, faltering, she uttered a low, faint sigh, and fell into the arms of those behind her.

"What's this, Tiernay!-how is all this?" whispered Prince Louis; "are you acquainted with Mademoiselle ?" But I forgot everything; the presence in which I stood, the agony of a wounded leg and all, and with a violent effort sprung from my seat.

Before I could approach her, however, she had risen from the chair, and

in a voice broken and interrupted, said:

"You are so changed, M. de Tiernay-so much changed-that the shock overpowered me. We became ac quainted in the Tyrol, Madame," said she to the Princess, "where Monsieur was a prisoner."

What observation the Princess made in reply I could not hear, but I saw that Laura blushed deeply. To hide her awkwardness perhaps it was, that she hurriedly entered into some account of our former intercourse, and I could observe that some allusion to the Prince de Condé dropped from her.

"How strange, how wonderful is all that you tell me!" said the Princess, who bent forward and whispered some words to Prince Louis; and then, taking Laura's arm, she moved on, saying in a low voice to me, "Au revoir, Monsieur," as she passed.

"You are to come and drink tea in the Archduchess's apartments, Tiernay," said Prince Louis; "you'll meet your old friend, Mademoiselle D'Estelles, and of course you have a hundred recollections to exchange with each other."

The Prince insisted on my accepting his arm, and, as he assisted me along, informed me that old Madame D'Ac greville was dead about a year, leaving her niece an immense fortune—at least a claim to one-only wanting the sanction of the Emperor Napoleon to become valid; for it was one of the estreated but not confiscated estates of La Vendée. Every word that dropped from the Prince extinguished some hope within me. More beautiful than ever, her rank recognised, and in possession of a vast fortune, what chance had I, a poor soldier of fortune, of success?

"Don't sigh, Tiernay," said the Prince, laughing; "you've lost a leg for us, and we must lend you a hand in return;" and with this we entered the salon of the Archduchess.

I HAVE been very frank with my readers in these memoirs of my life. If I have dwelt somewhat vain-gloriously on passing moments of success, it must be owned that I have not spared my vanity and self-conceit, when either betrayed me into any excess of folly.

I have neither blinked my humble beginnings, nor have I sought to attribute to my own merits those happy accidents which made me what I am. I claim nothing but the humble character-a Soldier of Fortune. It was my intention to have told the reader somewhat more

than these twenty odd years of my life embrace. Probably, too, my subsequent career, if less marked by adventure, was more pregnant with true views of the world and sounder lessons of conduct; but I have discovered to my surprise that these revelations have extended over a wider surface than I ever destined them to occupy, and already I tremble for the loss of that gracious attention that has been vouchsafed me hitherto. I will not trust myself to say how much regret this abstinence has cost me ;-enough if I avow that in jotting down the past I have lived my youth over again, and in tracing old memories, old scenes, and old impressions, the smouldering fire of my heart has shot up a transient flame so bright as to throw a glow even over the chill of my old age.

It is, after all, no small privilege to have lived and borne one's part in stirring times; to have breasted the ocean of life when the winds were up and the waves ran high; to have mingled, however humbly, in eventful scenes, and had one's share in the mighty deeds that were to become history afterwards. It is assuredly in such trials that humanity comes out best, and that the character of man displays all its worthiest and noblest attributes. Amid such scenes I began my life, and, in the midst of similar ones, if my prophetic foresight deceive me not, I am like to end it.

Having said this much of and for myself, I am sure the reader will pardon me if I am not equally communicative with respect to another, and if I pass over the remainder of that interval which I spent at Komorn. Even were love-making-which assuredly it is not as interesting to the spectator as to those engaged, I should scruple to recount events which delicacy should throw a veil over; nor am I induced,

even by the example of the wittiest periodical writer of the age, to make a "feuilleton" of my own marriage. Enough that I say, despite my shattered form, my want of fortune, my unattested pretension to rank or station, Mademoiselle D'Estelles accepted me, and the Emperor most graciously confirmed her claims to wealth, thus making me one of the richest and the very happiest among the Soldiers of Fortune.

The Pere Delamoy, now superior of a convent at Pisa, came to Komorn to perform the ceremony; and if he could not altogether pardon those who had uprooted the ancient monarchy of France, yet did not conceal his gratitude to him who had restored the Church and rebuilt the altar.

There may be some who deem this closing abrupt, and who would wish for even a word about the bride, her bouquet, and her blushes. I cannot afford to gratify so laudable a curiosity, at the same time that a lurking vanity induces me to say, that any one wishing to know more about the "personnel" of my wife or myself, has but to look at David's picture, or the engraving made from it, of the Emperor's marriage. There they will find, in the left hand corner, partly concealed behind the Grand Duke de Berg, an officer of the Guides, supporting on his arm a young and very beautiful girl, herself a bride. If the young lady's looks are turned with more interest on her companion than upon the gorgeous spectacle, remember that she is but a few weeks married. If the soldier carry himself with less of martial vigour or grace, pray bear in mind that cork legs had not attained the perfection to which later skill has brought them.

I have the scene stronger before me than painting can depict, and my eyes fill as I now behold it in my memory!

THE biographer of Chalmers has added two volumes to his work since we gave to our readers an account of the first. The arrangement of the subject, originally contemplated, was a division of Dr. Chalmers's biography into three periods. "The first from his birth, in 1780, to the close of his ministry in Kilmany in 1815; the second from the commencement of his ministry at Glasgow to the termination of his professorship at St. Andrew's in 1828; the third from the time of his appointment to the chair of Theology at Edinburgh to his death in 1847." And Dr. Hanna imagined that he could include the account of each of these periods within a single volume. His materials have proved more abundant than he had at first calculated, and he has been compelled to extend the work to a volume more than he had originally purposed. No reader of the book will regret this. It is one the interest of which increases with every page. There is a calm and subdued eloquence in Dr. Hanna's style which, more than that of any writer we know, impresses us with the feeling of his entire earnestness in every word he writes. We feel that we know Chalmers more and more as the work advances. He has grown not alone on our admiration, but on our affections. We believe him to have been the greatest and the best man of his age. Is this to say that we assent to all his views? Surely not; but it is to say, that whatever we can learn of him satisfies us that he was a true and single-hearted man; we can read no part of his works without feeling that they are filled with the spirit of truth. It is impossible, we think, for any fair-minded man, whatever may be his views as to questions of episcopacy and presbyterianism, not to regard Chalmers as a man doing more for our common Christianity than any other man of our time; and effecting what he has done by the energies of his own powerful mind, with little of human aid. We know of no man who so often brings to our mind the apostleship of Paul-affectionate, earnest, single-minded, prudent, with a belief in good that never waver

that

ed. We know of no man who has done so much to bring some of the more abstruse doctrines of Christianity within the compass of the understanding; and the more that is rescued from mysticism, inadequate as the intellect is to deal with what is properly spiritual, the more is the intellect itself raised, and something is thus gained for the cause of good by improving for its service the ministerial faculties of our nature. There is a feeling of freshness in the good sense of Chalmers. In this he reminds us of Paley and of Whately, though nothing can be more unlike than his style is to either of those writers. But in all these there is the appearance and, no doubt, the reality of their great power being derived from looking at things straightforward, and as they are in themselves; making them, as far as is possible, to stand out face to face before the mind. In Paley, and in the other writer whose name we have mentioned, the style is of almost scientific precision; not a word more or less than the occasion demands. Chalmers's style is, on the contrary, diffuse, and it would appear to us, from this cause, commanding less attention from his hearers than the justness and originality of his views deserve. We presume that the difference of style, as far as it does not depend on differences in the conformation of the respective minds of the writers, is to be referred to the fact that Chalmers's style was formed from his habit of addressing country congregations and half edu cated classes of students, and that the expansion of every thought into which he was led, for the purpose of rendering it intelligible to such auditors, led to a diffuseness which would have been fatal to effect if occurring in the writings of a man of less power.

In our review of the earlier part of Dr. Hanna's work, we had brought down the narrative of Dr. Chalmers's life to the period of his sister's Barbara's death. The next year was marked by the death of an uncle. In this case it was the ripe ear that had been gathered. The old man, who had appeared in his usual health through the