egiment. His dress was
travel-stained and splashed, and he looked like one off a long journey.
He knew me at once, and accosted me by name, as he presented a letter
from General d'Auvergne.

"You've had a smart ride," said I, as I surveyed his flushed face and
disordered uniform.

"Yes, Captain,--from the Oder. Our division is full twelve leagues from
this. I left on yesterday morning; for the general was particular that
the charger should not suffer on the way,--as if a beast like that would
mind double the distance."

By this time I had opened the letter, which merely contained the
following few lines:--

Encampment on the Oder, Nov. 21, 1806.

My dear Burke,--Every new arrival here has brought me some
fresh intelligence of you, and of your conduct at Jena; nor
can I say with what pride I have heard that the Emperor has
included you among the list of the _decores_. This is the
day I often prophesied for you, and the true and only
refutation against the calumnies of the false-hearted and
the envious. I send you a Polish charger for your gala
review. Accept him from me; and believe that you have no
warmer friend, nor more affectionate, than yours,

D'Auvergne, Lieut-General.

Before I had finished reading the letter, my eyes grew so dimmed I
could scarcely trace the letters. Each word of kindness, every token of
praise, now cut me to the heart. How agonizing are the congratulations
of friends on those events in life where our own conscience bears
reproach against us! how poignant the self-accusation that is elicited
by undeserved eulogy! How would _he_ think of my conduct? By what means
should I convince _him_ that no alternative remained to me? I turned
away, lest the honest soldier should witness my trouble; and as I
approached the window, I beheld in the courtyard beneath the beautiful
charger which, with the full trappings of a hussar saddle, stood proudly
flapping his deep flanks with his long silken tail. With what a thrill
I surveyed him! How my heart leaped, as I fancied myself borne along on
the full tide of battle, each plunge he gave responsive to the stroke of
my sword-arm! For an instant I forgot all that had happened, and gazed
on his magnificent crest and splendid shape with an ecstasy of delight.

"Ay," said the dragoon, whose eyes were riveted in the same quarter,
"there's not a marshal of France so well mounted; and he knows