saw them marched, with their general at their head, between a double collonnade formed by the allied troops, my mind recurred with great satisfaction to the furcæ Caudine and the sub jugum mitti of Roman warfare. During these memorable days the dearth of provisions that prevailed in Leipsic was quite dreadful. On one occasion I saw a respectable citizen carrying home a loaf under his cloak. Unluckily some soldiers on the promenade got wind of it; they were down upon him in a trice, and the bread was torn from his grasp. He entreated them, with tears, that they would at least leave him half of it; that it had cost him five dollars; and that his wife and children were at home starving. But the soldiers were starving too, so that the unfortunate man was obliged to return home with empty hands, and a heart filled with despair. Willingly would I have given him a share of my own commons; but at the very same time I myself was under the necessity of borrowing from a neighbour a little salt, and half a ration of bread, which he, again, had purchased from a soldier at an enormous per-centage. On an other occasion, soon after the battle, when the general Kleist von Nollendorf and some other officers called upon us, we had nothing in the house to offer them but a cup of muddy coffee and a morsel of stale biscuit. At length a friend of mine had the good fortune to purchase a cow from a fugitive Frenchman. When the animal was slaughtered, he presented me with half of it, and thus, after being almost starved to death, we again had fresh meat in the house. If a man would form any notion of the straits to which we were reduced, just let him go with. out his dinner for a fortnight. Though Germany might now be said to be effectually delivered from the thraldom of the French, a call was yet made upon all patriotic Saxons to rise in arms for the liberation of their king; and as the term of my rectorate had by this time expired, I had no hesitation in obeying the summons. After some drilling, I accordingly took the field as lieutenant of a body of volunteer cavalry. But our campaigns were all bloodless; and at length, after a good deal of marching and counter-marching, during which time I and my comrades were quartered on many an honest countryman much, I fear, to the inconvenience of themselves and their wives- I again returned to my peaceful avocations in the university of Leipsic, within whose venerated walls I hope to terminate a life which, I trust, has been not alto gether unprofitably spent. THE TOWER OF LONDON. THE destructive fire which has turned so large and important a portion of this great national depository into ashes, has awakened the anxiety of the public in a remarkable degree. The recollections connected with its history, its construction, and its uses, have been gathered by the journals with great diligence, and received with almost unexampled avidity. We attribute this effect to much higher feelings than mere curiosity, excited by public events in general. A degree of interest arising from its extraordinary connexion with the history of the country, and with the most extraordinary portions of that history, attaches to the Tower; and every antiquarian, every student of our national annals, every mind capable of being stirred by seeing the very spots on which some of the most signal transactions of England and Europe have happened, and even every citizen who has long looked on the Tower as the defence and ornament of an important portion of the metropolis, shares the sensation produced by the late catastrophe. In this language there is no exaggeration if the crowd who gazed on the progress of this dreadful fire through the length of a night, were brought together by the mere spectacle, this cannot account for the multitudes of every rank from the highest, who have since thronged the gates, and, with whatever difficulty arising from the precautions adopted in a fortress, have made their way to inspect the ruins. As some illustration of the materials for a higher interest than that of mere sight-seeing which are to be found in the Tower, may be mentioned the Chapel, which contains the dust of some of the most memorable names of the national times of trouble. In front of the communion table lie the bodies of Anne Boleyn, and her brother, Lord Rochford; of Queen Katharine Howard; of Margaret Countess of Salisbury, the last of the Plantagenets; of Thomas Cromwell, chief minister of Henry the VIII., in the suppression of the papal supremacy; of the two Seymours, him of Sudley, and his clever and, perhaps, innocent brother, the Protector; of Lord Dudley and his beautiful and guiltless wife; of the wily Duke of Northumberland, of the Duke of Norfolk, the aspirant to the hand of the Queen of Scots; of the chivalrous and brilliant Earl of Essex, the lover of Elizabeth; of James, the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth, who lies under the communion table; and of the unhappy victims of their rash attachment to a worthless king and an unconstitutional cause, the Lords Kilmarnock and Balmerino; with that clever old man but giddy rebel, the Lord Lovat, who perished for the outbreak of 1745. Tower Hill furnished this little last receptacle with most of its dead; and perhaps there is no spot on the globe which might supply a more solemn and immediate moral against the vanity of human things, the equal distribution of good and evil, among the highest and the lowest, and the hazard of violating the wise and ancient maxim against "meddling with those who are given to change." The fire broke out on Saturday night, the 30th of October, about ten o'clock. Strange to say, it was not first perceived in the Tower itself, though it has sentinels planted in every quarter. A soldier on guard at the Royal Mint, which stands on the opposite side of the moat, perceived a sudden blaze in the Bowyer or Round Tower, connected with the great building in which the muskets and other small arms were stored. He mentioned it to the porter at the Mint, but the man saying that such lights were common there, the soldier gave no alarm. However, in a few minutes after, it was effectually given; a person accidentally passing along Tower Hill, which gives a commanding view of the fortress, saw the blaze spring up, and shouted to the sentries. The firing of a musket instantly brought out the whole garrison; (the Scots Fusilier Guards, nearly five hundred men,) the drums were beaten, and every effort that could be made by fearlessness and activity was made; but the fire had already completely seized the Bowyer Tower, which stood in the centre of the great stores of arms, and all efforts were evidently in vain. Expresses were immediately dispatch. ed to the Duke of Wellington, as Constable of the Tower, and to the chief fire-engine stations. Unfortu nately there was a deficiency of water to supply the Tower engines-the river being at low tide, the moat nearly dry, and the garrison tanks soon drained. It has been also said that the Tower engines were in an inadequate condition, at least to meet so formidable an emergency. But giving this as the mere report of the confused moment, and, of course, awaiting the decision of that formal inquiry which is about to take place, it was soon evident that the fire had mastered every obstacle, and that the Bowyer Tower was in a mass of flame. By this time, the alarm had been spread through the whole east end of London, and thousands came crowding from all quarters to witness the conflagration. But we shall not wan der into the descriptions with which the first narrators seem to have indulged their taste for discovering the sublime in the terrible. By eleven o'clock, the scene from the exterior was simply awful. One sensation, that of terror at the vast power of the flames, at the rapidity with which they rushed over the roofs of the immense buildings, and the continued roar of the fire which drowned every voice of the multitude, absorbed every one. From the height of Tower Hill, the flames seemed at one period to make so sudden and vast a rush upwards, that the whole space of building beneath the eye was supposed likely to fall a prey. This gave rise to a new terror; the detached buildings were inhabited by the civil officers of the Tower and their families, and the probability appeared for a while to be, that they would be involved in the ruin. By this time, too, the fire-engines came rolling through the streets, announced by shouts and their gongs, with their horses at full gallop; and even the appearance of those powerful and useful machines, as they swept the multitude, right and left, before them, increased the feverishness of the spectators. In a short time the whole front of the entrance gate was thronged with them and their firemen, and some official delay having prevented their passing in, the general anxiety increased. At length they all disappeared within the walls, and every eye was turned to watch their effect upon the fire. But a sudden blaze from the roof of the armoury showed that the evil was but begun. This great depot, containing arms for 200,000 men, was soon enveloped in flame, and it was obvious that no human exertion could now save it. The engines of the fire brigade had been brought into play, and they threw vast volumes of water upon the building; but the flames seemed to be unchecked for a moment, and the whole aspect of this great fabric was soon more like that of a volcano in eruption, or rather of that more rapid, more tremendous sighta line-of-battle ship on fire, than of any other conflagration. From whatever cause, whether from the diversity of the burning materials, arms, camp equipage, stores, or even of the molten metals, the flames took different hues at intervals, and that of purple, sulphur-coloured, and other tinges. But the analogy to a vast burning ship was not confined merely to the likeness of the blazing casements to gunports pouring out flames, but for a while was thought to extend to another and even a more formidable source of hazard. It was supposed that gunpowder was among the stores-a supposition which, if true, would have probably realized itself in the destruction of the garrison, and the general blaze of every building within the walls, if not have flung conflagration over a large space of the city. Fortunately, it happened that the gunpowder was not in the armoury; but the escape was sufficiently narrow, for a large quantity of it was deposited under the White Tower, at the opposite side of the court-a building which was more than once threatened by the flames, and which any sudden shift of the wind might have involved in the fate of the armoury, even if it might not take fire from the showers of sparks which were floating in all directions in the air. This hazard was at length felt to be so serious, that the troops were put to the perilous service of carrying away the barrels, wrapped in wetted blankets; and we understand that a considerable quantity, for which any other receptacle could not be found, was thrown into the moat. The scene within was, of course, still more anxious than that without the fortress. The major of the Tower had, at an early period, sent for a reinforcement of police, who were speedily followed by a battalion of the Guards, and then the gates were secured, which at one time seemed not unlikely to be forced by the multitude, and an additional strength was supplied for the working of the engines. The exertions of the troops of all arms were what might be expected from them-indefatigable and courageous. Though there was still a strong impression that at least some barrels of gunpowder remained in the vaults, the soldiers, on seeing that the armoury must fall, rushed into the rooms, and carried away every thing that could be saved, while the fire was actually raging over their heads. Thus were rescued some thousands of percussion muskets, and some of the trophies which had so long constituted the ornaments of the Tower. The fireenginemen even continued playing on the walls of the apartments until the ceilings were on the point of coming down. Three hours had now passed since the commencement of the fire, and as it was seen to be utterly hopeless to contend with it, the general effort was directed to the preservation of the surrounding buildings. The leaden water-pipes on the roof of the White Tower were melted by the heat, and the effect of the flame across the court was so powerful, that it had begun to ignite the frames of the casements. Vast quantities of water were thrown on this building, which, independently of its striking architecture, has a still higher value as the depository of a vast number of the most ancient and important records of the kingdom. A sudden shift of the wind from the north-east to the south, assisted the operations of the engines, and the White Tower escaped destruction. The Jewel Office seemed to be in still more imminent danger. Rather to the shame of those in whose department it had hitherto fallen to consult the architectural fame of the country, the crown jewels had been for a long period thrust into an obscure corner, or rather cellar, in a corner of the esplanade. What the Commissioners of Woods and Forests, or whatever other high functionaries of public taste who may be employed in preventing the national relapse into Vandalism, may have been doing, is not for us to say; but we think, that the Government ought to have made the Crown Jewel Office not merely a safe building, but a showy one. Those who have seen the Garde-Meuble in Paris, will agree with Sterne's friend, that "they order those things better in France." We admit that a new jewel house is now building; but as it happens to stand exactly in the same perilous vicinity to the site of the great store, which will doubtless become a great store again; and as it is a little, low, vulgar, and squat affair like its predecesssor, evidently built on the model of a teacaddy, or bon-bon box, it is not much more to our admiration than the little dungeon to which it is about to succeed. How either of them escaped on the present occasion, it is difficult to discover. For though hewn stone will not burn, jewels will calcine; and certainly, if the wind had but flung a single sheet of flame in that quarter, the crown jewels of England, with all their value and all their recollections— and those are many and curious—would in the first five minutes have been vitrified into lumps, or floated away in vapour. It is to be hoped that they will be removed from the very dangerous contiguity of such combustibles as canvass-tents, gun-stocks, and the thousand other things which a spark may set in an unquenchable blaze. It is due, however, to the promptitude and intelligence of Mr Swifte, a very meritorious person, and fitted for a much higher office than that of superintending the regalia, that they were rescued from this peril. Under his direction they were carried to the governor's house, where they remained until their transfer to the care of Messrs Rundell and Bridge, the celebrated makers of crowns and sceptres on Ludgate Hill. At one, the Clock Tower, in the centre of the armoury, which had hitherto held its head erect, was seen to totter, and it plunged down with a crash which, in the stillness of the night, was heard for miles round. But the night was the very reverse of still in the neighbourhood of the Tower. All was confusionthe rushing of crowd upon crowd, the galloping of expresses, the coming of troops, the rolling of fire-engines, and the shouts and outcries of the multitude as the fire seemed rushing to some yet untouched part of the area; and the tumult within seemed to rise with the existence of some new hazard. At length the whole roof of the armoury fell in, and in the next moment the sky was literally vaulted with fire —the burning fragments of wood, paper, canvass, and every thing that could float and blaze, filled the whole hemisphere. As far as the eye could reach, every thing was suddenly visible, as if in the light of day. The river, the ships, with the seamen in the rigging, the opposite roofs of the city, the fields beyond, the remote steeples and prominent buildings of the suburbs and villages-all gleamed for a moment in that fearful gush of wild light, and then all sank as suddenly into darkness, and the view was confined to the sullen blaze of the Tower, steady and strong, like some huge furnace. By three in the morning the flames began to subside, and the spread of the havoc was no longer to be apprehended. The ruins, however, continued partially burning for some days. An investigation, by order of Government, alone can be expected to satisfy the public on the subject of so great a loss of national property. That loss, with the expense of rebuilding the armoury, has been calculated at a million sterling. It is supposed that the fire began with one of the stoves on Dr Arnot's plan. These inventions should never be applied experimentally to public buildings; and wherever stoves are, there is danger. They do their work in secret, smoulder in spots where no one suspects them, and generally punish the saver of fuel and the economical lover of science, by burning his house about his ears. The history of the Tower is one of the most curious in existence. If the Tower had a tongue, it could tell more thoughts of great men and great women, of festal days and nights of sorrow, of triumphant bigotry and hallowed martyrdom, than perhaps any castle in the wildest regions of romance. It has been every thing in turn. Originally the palace of the monarch, it became a fortress, and the fortress became a prison. This was the fruit of the desperate times which men are in the habit of calling the good old days of their ancestors. Force was the grand instrument, and defence the grand object. Every man's hand was against every man ; and from the king to the peasant, every man's safety was in the sword by his side. It will, however, be admitted, that society in England was more secure than on the Continent; four centuries ago, every road in Germany was covered with licensed robbers, whose head-robber, calling himself a baron, lived in a fortified house in the next forest, which he called his castle. Three centuries ago, no man ever stirred a league before his townwalls, without the chance of being slaughtered by a party calling themselves cavaliers, soldiers of the faith, or free lances. In England, fifteen hundred of those fortresses had been built in the reign of Stephen alone; and as if to show that, with all our soberness, we could be as mad as the rest of the world, and later than the rude clans of Germany, or the volatile villany of France, our civil wars in the middle of the seventeenth century, within three years cost the lives of nearly 100,000 English yeomen, nobles, and gentlemen. But a strong distinction must be made. Fortresses within a country have uniformly been a sign of tarbarism; fortresses on the frontier of a country have not merely been a sign of national strength, but a source of all the "appliances and means of national improvement. Two things most deprecated by declaimers, have, in fact, protected, which was equivalent to producing, the civilization of the Continent. And these two were fortresses and standing armies. The first European armies, after the Gothic conquest, were a levy en masse. The chiefs and their feudatories, gathering a host of peasants, poured into the field. The peasants, in the bitterness of national rivalry, the heat of battle, or the frenzy of success, slaughtered their enemy without a thought of mercy, or an idea of retaliation. Thus a war of volunteers was a war of butchery. But standing armies introduced a new system. When military service became a profession, it formed a code for itself. The professed soldier began to provide against accidents. He found that war had its fortune, and that the victor to-day might be the prisoner to-morrow. He therefore established rules and regulations for his own treatment in case |