to read the vote which is placed in their hands, quoted, or without justification in sound logic there is not from Turkey to Timbuctoo a viler or in Christian morality, originated, in praise or more terrible despotism than that, under of Napoleon, and therefore, inferentially, in which every man in New York gives his vote censure of Britain. Having made all proper for every public officer, from the president to and necessary use of this opportunity, we those precious policemen of whom there are shall, as we had already proposed to ourselves, at this very moment two in the state prison quit our discursive author, to take him up as for midnight burglary-for breaking into we want him, from time to time, as we prothe house of one of those citizens whom they gress in our own commentary upon the were both paid and sworn to protect! We state least logical, the most unjust, and, excepting this deliberately, solemnly, not upon hearsay, for the purpose of public detection, the most but upon the evidence of our own senses; and entirely useless pages that we ever perused. we say further, let all who can "read the vote Proceed we now, therefore, to take up the which is put into their hands," read also Mr. career of Napoleon at its real starting point. Abbott's republican praises lavished upon as Desiring, as far as possible, to avoid the vile a tyrant as ever prostituted a magnificent discursive course pursued by Napoleon's genius, and we dare venture to say that noth- newest biographer, we have proposed to dising more will be wanted to opening a brave miss, with mere allusion made in the fewest prospect for a Yankee Napoleon-if Yankee- possible words, all those passages in Napoledom can but produce one. on's strange and eventful life, which do not afford us ground for such critical remarks as may tend to effect our main purpose that, namely, of showing that, in despite of his admitted and indisputable genius, and the exaggeration of it by fulsome flatterers of divers dates, and various degrees of literary incompetency, he was to all intents and purposes a selfish and unprincipled man, a public enemy at once so highly gifted, so perverse and so incorrigible, that England in resisting him, subduing him, and, finally, making him a strictly watched captive, deserved the thanks of the whole civilized world, and performed a duty which she could not have neglected without gross injustice to all the weaker powers of Europe, and equally gross ingratitude to that God who has made her so pre-eminent in arms, in arts, in commerce, and in laws, in external influence, and in internal peace.

We had intended a page or two back to take a temporary leave of Mr. Abbott, and to commence our own commentary in our own fashion; but we felt that we ought not to lose the opportunity which our discursive author afforded us, of once and for all, protesting against the attribution to Napoleon of the virtues diametrically opposed to those very vices which debased his vast genius, disgraced himself, and cursed mankind. Let our readers be firmly persuaded of this, that if we speak strongly and sternly either of the egregious papers which have challenged us into the lists, or of the great but cruel and crafty genius, Napoleon Bonaparte, we have not written and we will not write one line, nay, not even one word which we are not prepared to verify to the very letter, either by Napoleon's own words, or by those of the most servile and the most sycophantic of his eulogists. There are literary as well as some physical disorders which are, as the vulgar have it, "catching," and we have so far caught one vice from the Abbott's pages, that we have by that most unjust page been detained for a brief space from the proper matter of our own. Our readers, however, will readily perceive that dealing with a writer at once so discursive and so dexterously invidious as the New York biographer, it behoved us to mark, sternly and emphatically, "in season and out of season," our dissent from all that Mr. Abbott has (without acknowledgment)

Merely referring, therefore, to Napoleon's brief but bitter season of poverty and humili. ation as a mere subaltern, now with mere garrison duty, and anon without any employment at all; we need scarcely be much more prolix as to his first really eminent achievement: the siege of Toulon. One of the Corsican deputies, who was also one of the ruffians who voted for the murder of the unfortunate Louis XVI, a man named Salicetti, had at one time been on rather intimate terms with Napoleon in their native island, but, apparently, on both personal and political grounds, they had become fierce and ɛeem

that even his grandiloquent powers could scarcely show Napoleon thus availing himself of the influence of a regicide, whom he had denounced as a "villain" without also exposing that which our biographer takes so much pains to conceal-viz: that, in his selffsh determination to achieve his own ends, Napoleon knew how to exemplify and practise the "meanness that soars, and pride that licks the dust; and that from flattering a "villain" to fusilading a prince of the blood, all means were equal to him, provided they sufficed to the attainment of his ends. We would recommend Mr. Abbott, either to strike out all that he has said about Salicetti, or to give that man credit (and Napoleon proportionate shame) as the patron by whose aid Napoleon obtained the, as we shall presently show, invaluable opportunity of distinguish ing himself at the siege of Toulon.

ingly, implacable enemies. Napoleon, especi-ence of one whom he had formerly called a "vilally, had spoken of Salicetti in terms equally lain," and who had since by his regicide vote, contemptuous and rancorous. But Sali- abundantly proved himself to be one? Did cetti had become a somewhat influential our luminous and truth-telling biographer fear Jacobin member of the Convention, and Napoleon, anxious for employment, seems to have understood the art of fawning in adversity, as well as, subsequently, he manifested the taste for trampling when in prosperity, and it seems pretty clear that he owed his first real step in public life, his employment at the siege of Toulon, to the influence and recommendation of that very Salicetti whom he had frequently spoken of as one of the meanest and most dastardly of mankind. Mr. Abbott relates much that took place between Buonaparte and Salicetti in Corsica. He tells us that, when the latter was denounced by the Jacobins and in a position of consderable peril, and had found shelter in the house of their mutual acquaintance, Madame Perinou, Napoleon, then on furlough in Corsica found out his retreat, and, in conversation with Madame Perinou, spoke of Salicetti as being "a villain," for having sought Although the revolutionary butchers had her protection, and thus endangered her. murdered their king, and although the sanMr. Abbott occupies very considerable space guinary scenes which immediately preceded in giving us the details of this affair, and, and followed that foul murder, had greatly throughout, shews, as usual, the strongest and necessarily aggravated that horrible state possible leaning to his great Idol. He tells of the public morals of which we spoke in the us that Salicetti had, some years previously, preceding chapter; although many who in caused Napoleon to be arrested and sent to their hearts detested their tyrants, yet from Paris, on a charge of having expressed him- sheer cowardice, affected the greatest enthuself too strongly against the then, ruling siasm in their cause, and although still more powers. Mr. Abbott's narrative here, as else mourned in secret the curse that had fallen where, is destitute of dates and of reference to upon their beautiful land, and sought their his authorities, and we are strongly inclined own safety in a profound silence upon the to disbelieve the story, as relates to Salicetti's political events of the day, there were not denunciation of Napoleon, and the arrest of the wanting, even in that awful time of sin and latter and his trial at Paris, on account of that terror, brave spirits who dared not only to denunciation. But setting that aside as matter declare their loathing and detestation for their of comparatively little importance, we would ask terocious oppressors, but also to combat them how it happens that Mr. Abbott has not chosen openly and to the death. Though, as comto say one word about his highminded hero pared to the misguided and ferocious rabble, having subsequently deigned, when in poverty the truly loyal and brave were but a mere and, well as he had already merited employ- handful, yet so generous was their enthusiment, almost despairing of obtaining it, how asm, and so high their courage, that if, preis it, we would ask, that he has said nothing vious to the murder of the king, any really about his highminded hero having obtained able and devoted general had gathered these that employment at Toulon, which was his brave spirits together into one consolidated first real step in public life, by fawning upon force, we are of opinion, the king and his a" villain," or if not actually fawning upon him family and friends, might have been saved, at the least accepting his influence, the influ-and France spared the indelible disgrace of

cious mob government, which threatened to be a curse to the whole civilized world, no less by the impunity which had hitherto attended its vile example, than by the increasing boid

showing itself a nation of butchers, and of solemnly proclaiming itself a nation of Atheists. To Lafayette and still more, to Dumourier, the glorious opportunity of thus saving the sovereign from death, and the people from dis-ness of its vices. Great Britain, ever the seat grace, was more than once providentially of real freedom, and ever the refuge of the offered. But Lafayette, notwithstanding all the high-sounding praises which the so-called republicans of New York are so fond of bestowing upon him, was, in fact, an officer fit enough to head a charge of a single regiment, but by no means fit for anything in the shape of an extensive command; and, moreover, there are several incidents in his career which suggest to us very painful doubts of his ever having been very earnest, if even he ever was quite sincere, in his wish to save the king. Dumourier had all the abilities requisite to the task of saving both the king and the nation, but it is pretty plain, we think, that he was far less inclined to do that, than to play the precise part which was subsequently played by Napoleon. That he actually wished the king's death we will not venture positively to affirm, but that he did wish his deposition as a very indispensable preliminary to his own dictatorship, under whatever title, we have no shadow of doubt; and had he not prematurely developed his hostility towards the Revolutionary ruffians, whose army he was commanding, it seems highly probable that he, instead of Napoleon, would have quelled the mob and established his own anthority. But these, the only two men who could possibly have gathered the scattered Royalists together to useful purpose being unequal to the task, or from motives of their own, unwilling to undertake it, those who were still not only faithful to the cause of Royalty in their hearts, but, also, brave enough to peril life and property, for that cause, were isolated, scattered, utterly incapable of saving their king while he yet lived, or of avenging him when he had been atrociously murdered. It was natural under such circumstances, that while the aged and infirm left France in order to save their lives, and such portable property as they could snatch from the general wreck, the youth and the mature manhood of the Royalists also emigrated, but only for the purpose of joining the army of those European sovereigns who seemed at length determined to put an end to that fero

oppressed, and the helpless, as it had been the first to afford shelter to those of the Royalists who only fled for safety, was also the first to afford encouragement to those emigrants who fled, not merely to save themselves, but also to return and save their country. In conjunction with Spain, England fitted out a fleet having on board an army of thirteen to fifteen thousand men, a very considerable portion of whom were Royalist Frenchmen, and with admirable judgment, dispatched this formidable force to Toulon, which, as our readers are aware, is a seaport on the Mediterranean, and was at that time one of the very strongest, and most amply munitioned, arsenals in all Europe. We say, that admirable judgment was shown in the selection of Toulon as the object of this expedition, and a very few words will suffice to show that our sentence is fully justified. Exceedingly strong as the place was, as a fortress, it had the stong recommendation of having within its walls more Royalists, probably, than could have been found in any other town in France, with a population which various accounts differently estimate at from twenty thousand to thirty thousand inhabitants. Previous to the sailing of the united English and Spanish fleet, an active correspondence was kept up between the emigrants in England and the Royalists of Toulon, and between these latter and the Royalists in the south of France, whence many thousands hastened to Toulon, and gave such preponderance to the Royalist power there, that when the combined Spanish and English force arrived, the city, its strong fortifications, its abundant munitions of war, and provisions, and all the shipping that lay in its harbour, were at once surrendered. What more natural than that the Royalists who had gathered together in Toulon should look upon the British and Spanish as friends and deliverers?

There is a sense of insecurity in the beginning fairly roused, and then we seem as if we could of all change; we dread movement until we are never know rest again.

THE PAGOTA-A VENETIAN STORY.* sponded the pilot; "and in that respect, also

(FROM THE FRENCH.)

CHAPTER VII.

it is exactly the same here. Let me be assured that the evil spirits unchained by the foul wind will neither trouble my sight nor my heart, and I will conduct you wherever you wish to go in safety. But there is the difficulty. If the demons who are suffered to roam free in a wind like this should pay me a visit, I should lose heart, and everything would be lost."

THE Albanian and the Dalmatian knew not what to do. The Venetian Archipelago is full of dangerous passages, and the good faith of this old pilot could hardly be called in question. Digia, struck with consternation, "Vive!" cried the engineer. “I knew very interrogated ner mother with a look, and the well we should go to-night. Here, listen to latter observed, with much inquietude, the me for a moment, my brave fellow, and drink signs of intelligence which were in course of another glass of wine. I am a native of a being exchanged between her husband and province in France, called La Vendée. There the Croat. As for the Frenchman, he seemed was once, in a little port of my country, a fully occupied with the dessert, and kept eat- stranger who wished to embark in stormy ing almonds with all the eagerness of a school-weather, and cross the arm of the sea whicy boy. At last it was time for him to come to lies between the island of Ré and the mainthe apples, and then he selected the largest, land. It was evening, and multitudes of light. and asked for a plate. Digia gave him one, and he then pretended to observe for the first time the intense sadness which was depicted on her countenance. He laid down the knife with which he had been about to divide the apple, and asked of Digia, "What's the matter with you, poor child? You seem agitated."

"If we do not go away to night," responded the Pagota, "I am afraid that I shall never again see Venice."

"Who talk of not going away to-night?" replied the engineer. "Oh, I recollect," he immediately added, "this honest pilot believes that there is danger, and that we shall not be able to cross the strait. Seat yourself, my brave fellow, and drink first a glass of wine. If we offered you twice the ordinary price to conduct us across the channel, what should you think then of the contrary winds and of the reefs?" Reflect a moment on the matter."

"I regret to be obliged to refuse you, mon signor," replied the pilot, "especially since we sailors earn so little. But the sea is our mistress, and we cannot command the winds." "Diable!" said the Frenchman; "since the glass of wine and the double pay have not been able to calm the waves, I see that the case is serious. And how long do you suppose these contrary winds will last?"

"Three days and three nights, your excellency, at the least, and that, too, without any interruption."

"Then it is just as it is sometimes in our canal of Brazza," said the Dalmatian.

"Exactly," answered the pilot; "the isle of Brazza forms a strait with the mainland exactly similar to this of Pago."

"But we can double the point of Brazza in all weathers," added the Dalmatian, "with a brigantine like mine and a cool-headed pilot." "Without doubt, your excellency," re

Continued from page 56, vol. iv. Concluded.
VOL. IV.-L

houses upon points of rock lit up to warn the voyager that certain death awaited him upon the reefs on which they stood, and upon which the waves of the ocean broke with frightful violence. The stranger offered a pilot double the ordinary price, but the old sailor, though a man of courage, dare not expose his life and that of the ship. He knew his trade well enough, and could doubtlessly have conducted the vessel in safety to its destination; but he feared one thing-the demons that on such a night are let loose, as they are here, among the waves which wash that part of the coast of France. However, the stranger, who was dining peacefully with two foreign friends of his, declared that the passage might be made with ease and safety, and sustained his opinion with so much obstinacy and assurance, that the pilot set himself to examine the matter more attentively. I may remark, that this unknown stranger had nothing unusual in his appearance, unless we except a rather long beard and a little hair upon his forehead ;" and as the Frenchman said this, he drew his own hair all in front, till it nearly covered his eyes, and stroked his beard out to the utmost length.

When they had served the dessert, the Frenchman took a large apple, and wrapped it in his napkin, then he took a very sharp knife, and said to the pilot, "Supposing, now, that I were to cut this apple to the core with a single stroke, and without cutting the nap kin, do you think that the demons of the coast would be able to drown very easily such a man as me?" The pilot swore by all sorts of things, objects of his adoration, that he would go on board immediately it the stranger would show that he had power to do as he said, and to accomplish such a miracle. Accordingly the engineer essayed the task. He struck at the apple with the sharp knife with all his strength, and the blade of the knife penetrated to the apple's heart, and, wonderful to relate, on drawing out the knife, it was

found that the linen was not the least dam- amusement of all the witnesses, with the exaged.

The engineer, as though to bring his story more vividly before the eyes of the company he was relating it to, had wrapped an apple up in a corner of a tablecloth, in the fashion that he had been speaking of. He now placed the apple and its envelope in the middle of the table, and taking a knife, struck at it with all his might. Dolimer saw the knife pene trate as far as the core of the apple, and cried out that "it had cut and completely spoiled his tablecloth;" but the engineer drew out the knife, and showed that the tablecloth was still intact, to the great astonishment of the company. This tour-d'-address, very simple when one is acquainted with the way of doing it, was unknown in Pago, and the witnesses (that is, the Pagote portion of them) did not doubt but that the Frenchman would be able to control with the utmost ease the whole of the spirits of the storm, and that he was a mighty sorcerer, if not the devil himself. The old Dalmatian cast a wondering look upon the engineer, who was eating the apple he had cut through with the greatest sangfroid imaginable, and a mock air of perfect innocence. The Albanian, endowed with a less impressible imagination, although he knew not how to perform the trick himself, comprehended that it was a matter of legerdemain, but he feigned an extreme surprise. Now, then," said he, "there can be nothing to detain us in port, and my brigantine can put to sea without the least risk. If the pilot still hesitates, we will go away without him, for the signor Francais can take the helm; and would to heaven I had never had a worse pilot than I know he can make."

"You have faith," said Francois Knapen to the Albarian, upon whose lips he observed a light half-smile. "Perhaps even I may be capable of conducting your vessel," he then added, "I have never touched a boat's helm yet, it is true, but why should not I be as able a pilot for all that as the signer Francais? Let us see if I cannot cut another apple in the same way as monsieur did. If I succeed, give me the helm, and see how soon we shall all perish together!"

ception of Dolomir.

"Well, my brave fellow, shall we put to sea?" asked the engineer of the old sailor. "I am entirely at your orders, signor," was the answer of the pilot.

"You have no fear of the spirits, then," asked the engineer, "and neither your hand nor your heart will fail you?"

"No, your excellency, I shall be as though made of bronze."

"Come, then, Digia, get your baggage ready, and embrace your parents; and you, Dolomir, make haste, and give your child your benediction," said the Frenchman.

As soon as these parting ceremonials were over, the engineer took the Pagota's arm, and led her away, followed by the Albanian and the Dalmatian. The wind was blowing with extreme violence, the sea was rolling mountains high, and the heavens, laden with clouds, had the most menacing look imaginable. There was not a vessel to be seen beside the Albanian's brigantine, but it seemed capable of breasting any storm; and the pilot mounted it, and took the helm with the fullest confidence. The brigantine spread out its broad white wings, flew out of the port, and gained the middle of the strait almost instantaneously. Dolomir and his wife seated themselves upon a stone to watch its progress, and saw it manœuvre with ability and precision, and in a few moments to clear the most dangerous portion of the passage, and leave the reefs and breakers far behind it. They then re-entered the house with a pleasant smile, whilst Knapen, who had also been watching the vessel's progress, retired to a distance, that he might weep unseen.

CHAPTER VIII.

To the burning nights of the dog-days had succeeded the tempestuous ones of September, when I found the engineer one evening seated in his accustomed place in the Cafe Florian. I knew that he was as much the enemy of useless writing as of useless words, and I was, therefore, not in the least surprised at having received no letters from him. The Croat took an apple, and wrapped it He had consequently everything to tell me up in the corner of the tablecloth. The en- viva voce. He did not wait for any questiongineer watched him with an apparently mock-ings, but eagerly announced to me that Digis ing air, under which, however, in reality was hidden deep inquietude, for he did not know but what the soldier should be as clever at the trick as he was, and equally aware that it was only a trick. But Knapen did not leave the tablecloth sufficiently loose, and it had not room to enter into the apple with the knife. Moreover, he struck his blow obliquely, and the consequence was, that when he drew away the cloth, he exhibited a large hole in it, to the infinite joy of the engineer, the Albanian, and the Pagota, and the vast

was in Venice, and then hastened to recount to me all the details of his expedition. Fearing that Marco, in consequence of his light-headedness, would not be properly prepared for the return of his mistress, I went away with the purpose of advising him of it. I had told him, when I left home, to wait for me near the Piazetta, and thither accordingly I went in search of him. But he was not there. I went again, and there was no gondola-a third time, and still no nicolitto was to be seen. The rascal, accustomed to be principally his