ircumstances; the presence of Louise at Paris would have prevented the
treason and defection of many of his soldiers, and he should still have
been at the head of a formidable army, with which he could have forced
his enemies to quit France and sign an honourable peace. De B. expressed
his regret that peace had not been made at Chatillon. "I never could put
any confidence," said Napoleon, "in the good faith of our enemies. Every
day they made fresh demands, imposed fresh conditions; they did not wish
to have peace--and then--I had declared publicly to all France that I
would not submit to humiliating terms, although the enemy were on the
heights of Montmartre." De B. remarked that France within the Rhine would
be one of the finest kingdoms in the world; on which Napoleon, after a
pause, said--"I abdicate; but I yield nothing." He ran rapidly over the
characters of his principal officers, but dwelt on that of Macdonald.
"Macdonald," said he, "is a brave and faithful soldier; it is only during
these late events that I have fully appreciated his Worth; his connexion
with Moreau prejudiced me against him: but I did him injustice, and I
regret much that I did not know him better." Napoleon paused; then after
a minute's silence--"See," said he, "what our life is! In the action at
Arcis-sur-Aube I fought with desperation, and asked nothing but to die
for my country. My clothes were torn to pieces by musket balls--but alas!
not one could touch my person! A death which I should owe to an act of
despair would be cowardly; suicide does not suit my principles nor the
rank I have holden in the world. I am a man condemned to live." He sighed
almost to sobbing;--then, after several minutes' silence, he said with a
bitter smile--"After all they say, a living camp-boy is worth more than a
dead emperor,"--and immediately retired into the palace. It was the last
time De Bausset ever saw his master.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

* * * * *

APRIL FOOLS.

This day, beyond all contradiction,
This day is all thine own, Queen Fiction!
And thou art building castles boundless
Of groundless joys, and griefs as groundless;
Assuring beauties that the border
Of their new dress is out of order;
And schoolboys that their shoes want tying;
And babies that their dolls are dying.
Lend me, lend me, some disguise;
I will tell prodigious lie