ure if I could not have heard a sentence of death with more equanimity
than the terrible announcement that I was to drag out existence maimed and
crippled. To endure the helplessness of age with the warm blood and daring
passions of youth, and, worse than all, to forego a career that was
already opening with such glorious prospects of distinction.

Nothing could be more kindly considerate than the mode of communicating
this sad announcement; nor was there omitted any thing which could
alleviate the bitterness of the tidings. The undying gratitude of the
Imperial family; their heartfelt sorrow for my suffering; the pains they
had taken to communicate the whole story of my adventure to the Emperor
Napoleon himself, were all insisted on; while the personal visits of the
Archdukes, and even the Emperor himself, at my sick bed, were told to me
with every flattery such acts of condescension could convey. Let me not be
thought ungrateful, if all these seemed but a sorry payment for the
terrible sacrifice I was to suffer; and that the glittering crosses which
were already sent to me in recognition, and which now sparkled on my bed,
appeared a poor price for my shattered and wasted limb; and I vowed to
myself that to be once more strong and in health I'd change fortunes with
the humblest soldier in the grand army.

After all, it is the doubtful alone can break down the mind and waste the
courage. To the brave man, the inevitable is always the endurable. Some
hours of solitude and reflection brought this conviction to my heart, and
I recalled the rash refusal I had already given to submit to the
amputation, and sent word to the doctors that I was ready. My mind once
made up, a thousand ingenious suggestions poured in their consolations.
Instead of incurring my misfortune as I had done, my mischance might have
originated in some commonplace or inglorious accident. In lieu of the
proud recognitions I had earned, I might have now the mere sympathy of
some fellow-sufferer in an hospital; and instead of the "Cross of St.
Stephen," and the "valor medal" of Austria, my reward might have been the
few sous per day allotted to an invalided soldier.

As it was, each post from Vienna brought me nothing but flattering
recognitions; and one morning a large sealed letter from Duroc conveyed
the Emperor's own approval of my conduct, with the cross of commander of
the Legion of Honor. A whole life of arduous services might have failed to
win suc