by a
few officers and soldiers of the police. They were organized, and each
had his post allotted to him, in order that pillage, fire, and
devastation might commence every where at once.

CHAP. IV.

That very day (September the 14th), Napoleon, being at length persuaded
that Kutusoff had not thrown himself on his right flank, rejoined his
advanced guard. He mounted his horse a few leagues from Moscow. He
marched slowly and cautiously, sending scouts before him to examine the
woods and the ravines, and to ascend all the eminences to look out for
the enemy's army. A battle was expected: the ground favoured the
opinion: works were begun, but had all been abandoned, and we
experienced not the slightest resistance.

At length the last eminence only remained to be passed: it is contiguous
to Moscow, which it commands. It is called _the Hill of Salvation_,
because, on its summit, the inhabitants, at sight of their holy city,
cross and prostrate themselves. Our scouts had soon gained the top of
this hill. It was two o'clock: the sun caused this great city to glisten
with a thousand colours. Struck with astonishment at the sight, they
paused, exclaiming, "Moscow! Moscow!" Every one quickened his pace; the
troops hurried on in disorder; and the whole army, clapping their hands,
repeated with transport, "Moscow! Moscow!" just as sailors shout "Land!
land!" at the conclusion of a long and toilsome voyage.

At the sight of this gilded city, of this brilliant knot uniting Asia
and Europe, of this magnificent emporium of the luxury, the manners, and
the arts of the two fairest divisions of the globe, we stood still in
proud contemplation. What a glorious day had now arrived! It would
furnish the grandest, the most brilliant recollection of our whole
lives. We felt that at this moment all our actions would engage the
attention of the astonished universe; and that every one of our
movements, however trivial, would be recorded by history.

On this immense and imposing theatre we marched, accompanied, as it
were, by the acclamations of all nations: proud of exalting our grateful
age above all other ages, we already beheld it great from our greatness,
and completely irradiated by our glory.

At our return, already so ardently wished for, with what almost
respectful consideration, with what enthusiasm should we be received by
our wives, our countrymen, and even by our parents! We should form,
during the rest of our lives, a