We were very ill fed; the commissariat stores were far in rear, detained in the mountain passes, and for several days our only nourishment consisted of wild fruits, potatoes, and turnips, which the men dug up in the fields. Our clothes and equipment, to the very cartouchboxes, were wet through, and not a ray of sun, a tree or house, or even a bivouac fire, was there for warmth or shelter." With vermin also, bequeathed to them often by their Cossack allies, the Prussians were grievously tormented. "In our camp, by Chlumetz, in Bohemia, where we passed some days, we had rain and other bivouac calamities to put up with. The straw served out to us had already been slept upon; and the consequence was, an invasion of our clothes and persons by certain small creeping things of a very unpleasant description. Whether they were of Austrian or Russian extraction I am unable to state; nor did it much matter: we succeeded to them. Looking out of my hut one morning, I saw a man issue from one of the straw-built sheds occupied by the soldiers, and run, wringing his hands, to an adjacent wood. I followed him, to prevent mischief, and recognised an old friend and fellow cadet, Von P. He was in the greatest despair. The soldiers had turned him out of their temporary abode. The poor fellow swarmed with vermin. I succeeded in calming him, fetched him clean linen, and, after a careful examination of his clothes in a neighhouring oat-field, he returned with me to my hut, which he thenceforward inhabited. Should the Russian commandant of the Polish fortress of Czenstochau chance to read these pages, and remember the above incident, let him give a friendly thought to his old brother in arms, who will soon again have to speak of the brave Von. P. of the Second Silesian Regiment." If, in the rugged Bohemian mountains, hardships were to be anticipated, in the plains of Champagne things might have been expected to go better. If possible, they went worse. "To speak plainly," says the Baron, referring to the campaign in France, which commenced very early in the year, "filth and ordure were our couch; rain, ice, and snow, our covering; half-raw cow's flesh, mouldy biscuits, and sour wine lees, our nourishment; for heart and mind, the sole relaxation was shot, and blow, and stab. Some one has said, 'Make war with angels for twenty years and they will become devils.' To that

I add, 'Six months of such a life as we then led, and men would turn into beasts.' Little wonder if soldiers thus situated greedily seized each brief oppor. tunity of enjoyment. The cellars of Ai and Epernay paid heavy tribute to the thirsty Northern warriors. We are told of one instance where a whole division of the allied army was unable to march, and an important military operation had to be suspended, in consequence of a Pantagrulian debauch at a chateau near Chalons, where champagne bottles, by tens of thousands, were emptied down Prussian and Muscovite gullets. The

sacking of their cellars, however, was not the only evil endured at the hands of the invaders by the unlucky vinegrowers. Wood was scarce, the nights were very cold, and the sticks upon which the vines were trained, were pulled up and used as fuel. Sometimes, in a single night, many hundreds of thousands of these echalas were thus destroyed, every one of them being worth, owing to the hardness and rarity of the wood required for them, at least two sous. Their second visit to France hardly entered into the anticipations of the reckless destroyers, or they would perhaps have had more consideration for that year's vintage.

From a host of anecdotes of Baron von Rahden's brother-officers, we select the following as an interesting and characteristic incident of Prussian camplife three-and-thirty years ago. It is told in what the Baron calls his poetical style:

"My captain, a Pole by birth, was brave as steel, but harsh and rough as the sound of his name. He was deficient in the finer feelings of the heart, in philanthropy, and in a due appreciation of the worth of his fellow-men. Although a good comrade to us young officers, he was a tyrant to his inferiors. His envy and jealousy of his superiors he barely concealed under an almost exaggerated courtesy. Such was Captain von X.

"It was the eve of the battle of Leipzig, and a violent gust of wind had overthrown the fragile bivouac-huts, at that time our only protection from the cold and wet of the October nights. The rain fell in torrents, and, in all haste, the soldiers set to work to reconstruct their temporary shelter. The more cunning and unscrupulous took advantage of the prevailing confusion to consult their own advantage, without respect to

the rights of others. The objects which they coveted, and occasionally pillaged, would, under other circumstances, have been of little worth; they consisted of straw, branches, and stakes, invaluable in the construction of our frail tenements. As in duty bound, our military architects first built up the captain's hut, within which he took refuge, after ordering me to remain outside and preserve order. As junior officer of the company, this fatigue-duty fairly fell to me, in like manner as the first turn for an honourable service belonged to the senior; but, nevertheless, I felt vexed at the captain's order, and could not help wishing him some small piece of ill luck. My wish was very soon realized.

"Our major's hut, more carefully and strongly constructed, had resisted the hurricane. It stood close beside that of the captain. The major was long since asleep and snoring; but his servant, a cunning, careful dog, was still a-foot, and watched his opportunity to get possession of a long bean-stick, to be used as an additional prop to the already solid edifice under which his master slumbered. The unlucky marauder had not remarked that this stake formed one of the supports of the captain's dormitory. He seized and pulled it violently, and down came the hut, burying its inmate under the ruins. There was a shout of laughter from the spectators of the downfal, and then the Pole disengaged himself from the wreck, cursing awfully, and rushed upon the unfortunate fellow who had played him the trick. Pale and trembling, the delinquent awaited his fate; but his cry of terror brought him assistance from his master, who suddenly stepped forth in his nightdress, a large gray cavalry cloak thrown about him, and a white cloth bound round his head. The major was an excellent and kind-hearted man, loved like a father by his men, but subject to occasional fits of uncontrollable passion, which made him lose sight of all propriety and restraint. Without investigation, he at once took his servant's side against the captain, in which he was certainly wrong, seeing that his worthy domestic had been caught in the very act of theft. He snatched the beanstick from the man's hand: the captain already grasped the other end; and, for some minutes, there they were, major and captain, pulling, and tugging, and reeling about the bivouac, not like men, but like a brace of unmannerly boys.

Myself and the soldiers were witnesses of this singular encounter. Accustomed to regard our superiors with fear and respect, we now beheld them in the most childish and ludicrous position. Astonishment kept us motionless and silent. At last the captain made a violent effort to wrest the pole from his antagonist; the major held firm, and resisted with all his strength; when, suddenly his opponent let go his hold, and our major, a little round man, measured his length in the mud. In an instant he was on his feet again. Throwing away the beanstick, and stepping close up to his opponent, To-morrow,' said he, we will settle this like men: here we have been fools; and you, captain, a malicious fool.'

"I accept your invitation with pleasure,' replied the captain, and trust our next meeting will be with bullets. But, for to-day, the pole is mine.' And he seized it triumphantly.

"Certainly; yours to-day,' retorted the major. To-morrow we will fight it out upon my dirty cloak.'

"The morrow came, and the battle began, not, however, between major and captain, but between French and Prussians. Silent we stood in deep dark masses, listening to the music of the bullets.

'Firm and steady!' was the command of our little major of the same man who, a few hours before, had played so childish a part. Skirmishers were called in, and a charge with the bayonet ordered. The foe abandoned his first position. Animated by success, we attacked the second. Our battalion hurried on from one success to another, and my gallant captain was ever the first to obey, in the minutest particular, the orders of our famous little major. The noble emulation between the two brave fellows was unmistakeable. In their third position the French defended themselves with unparalleled obstinacy, and our young soldiers, in spite of their moral superiority, were compelled to recede. Forward, my fine fellows!' cried the major. Follow me, men!' shouted the captain, and, seizing the sinking standard, whose bearer had just been shot, he raised it on high, and dashed in amongst the foe. With a tremendous Hurra!' the whole line followed, and Napoleon's 'Vieille Garde' was forced to a speedy retreat.

"The major gazed in admiration at his bitter opponent of the preceding day. Calling him to him, he clasped him in

his arms. For a moment the two men were enveloped in the cloak upon which they were to have fought. Words cannot describe that scene. Suddenly a cannon-ball boomed through the air, and, lo! they lay upon the ground, shattered and lifeless, reconciliation their dying

Our

thought. The fight over, and our bivouac established in a stubble-field, we paid them the last military honours. Fifty men, all that remained of my company, followed their bodies, and a tear stood in every eye as we consigned the gallant fellows to one grave.”

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. LOCKE, in his illustrations of the effects of association, mentions the case of a young gentleman, who having learned to dance in a room, one corner of which was occupied by an old trunk, connected the idea of dancing so closely with the apparition of this trunk, that however well he could acquit himself in a room furnished like that in which he received the instructions of his master, was unable to go correctly, even through his positions, where his favourite trunk was left without a representative.

Extravagant, however, as this tale may appear to some of our readers, it must yield the palm of absurdity to the following, which is to be found in a little volume of French Tales, entitled "Bon Aventures de Periers, Varlet de Chambre de la Rayne de Navarre," from which, as placed by its extreme rarity beyond the reach, perhaps, of the whole of our readers, we think we shall gratify them by extracting it.

A law student at Poitiers, without being overburdened with learning, had succeeded in making himself, to a con

siderable degree, master of the intricacies of equity. He had, however, one des ficiency which threw all his laboured acquisitions into the shade and rendered them utterly valueless. This was a diffidence and timidity which utterly disqualified him from addressing a large, or indeed any audience. This his father advised him to conquer by accustoming himself to read aloud, committing passages to memory and reciting them as if to a large assembly. He reminded him of Demosthenes, who from being naturally unfitted for the office of a public speaker, conquered this apparently insurmountable obstacle by the most determined perseverance and the most extraordinary exertions, and became one of the most popular and celebrated orators of antiquity. In compliance with his father's advice, the young man resolved to read at the ministry; and, to

accustom himself to the presence of a large auditory, he made a practice of going to a retired part of the garden which was occupied solely by cabbage plants, and was out of sight and hearing of any human being. Here figuring the silent cabbages to his imagination as so many individuals, composing a silent and attentive auditory, he accustomed himself to address them as his pupils, in the language of his intended lectures .and thus from day to day he proceeded to increase in confidence and assurance, elevating his voice to its highest pitch, using his arms in the most graceful and impressive manner, addressing his listening cabbages by the novel and imposing title of Alumni or pupils, and Domini or gentlemen,-rounding his periods in the most oratorical manner, and arranging his climaxes and anticlimaxes so as, by the contrast to produce the most powerful and impressive effect; until he felt satisfied he had wholly vanquished his natural bashfulness and timidity.

training and discipline to his entire saHaving thus perfected himself by tisfaction, and fully convinced of his ability, in his next letters to his family, announcing the commencement of his course of lectures, to rival the simple and admired brevity of Cæsar's celebrated dispatch" Veni-Vidi--Vici" -he looked with impatience to the day of anticipated triumph. But, alas, like Akers— the unfortunate Akers- his courage ebbed with every moment that ebbed from the interval placed between him and glory. In his pursuit of confidence, he forgot the admirable axiom of the poet,

"Cui lecta potenter res-
Nec facundia deseret hunc-nec Jucidus ordo."
Which may be thus paraphrased in
English,-

The subject master'd with consummate choice,
Nor fluent language, or commanding voice,
Nor lucid order, nor arrangement clear,
Will leave the practiced speaker ought to fear.

The important day at length arrivedthe expectant assembly thronged the

lecture room-the intended professor, decked in the insignia of his office, entered and took his seat amidst a thunder of encouraging plaudits. The noise at length subsisted-a stillness like that of death succeeded, - all was expectation and mute attention-the professor arose -waved his arm with graceful gestureopened his lips-and began-" Domini congregati et vos Alumni dilectissimi," -this he repeated some dozen times, sawing the air with his extended arms, as though he hoped to catch some ideas in the vacant space; at length, concentrating all his energies for one vast and expiring effort, like the song of the swan at the instant of dissolution, he cried aloud in the accents of despair-"Domini et Alumni dilectissimi- bene nunc video quod caules non estis”—Gentlemen and beloved pupils-I now clearly see that you are not cabbages, and pulling off his gown, he rushed madly out of the lecture hall, known by the name of la Ministerie.

TRIAL BY ORDEAL.

AMONG the other evils of superstition, one of the most prevalent from, perhaps, the earliest ages of the world, was the notion that in cases of guilt upon which human judgment was unable to arrive at any very satisfactory conclusion, so as to warrant a judical decision, an appeal to Heaven could not fail to elicit a divine interposition, and render the proofs of guilt too palpable to endanger the safety of the innocent, or allow the guilty to escape merited punishment.

Hence originated the Trial by Ordeal, a system as cruel in pratice, as it was absurd and preposterous in principle, since in nine cases out of ten, the guilt or acquittal of the accused was the result of mere accident; superior bodily strength, superior cunning, or the collusion of those entrusted with the ceremonials of the trial. Thus in the case of walking, apparently blindfolded, without injury among red hot plough-shares, the trick consisted in arranging the bandage so as to allow a limited scope of vision in a downward direction, as is practiced at the present day in France, and many other parts of the continent, by the dancers on stilts, who amuse their gaping crowds of ignorant spectators, by dancing through a maze of eggs, without damage to one.

The Druids had their system of ordeal, as the wildest inhabitants of Africa have

at the present hour: and the Obeah of the West Indies is not more wicked or absurd, than the modes of detecting supposed witches in some uneducated parts of our own country, beneath the blaze of illumination which so honourably distinguishes the nineteeth century, and in a preeminent manner the inhabitants of Great Britain.

In the twelfth century, however, this superstition was nearly at its height, and history furnishes us with numberless, often ludicrous, oftener lamentable examples. Where the test was duel, and ecclesiastics were concerned, the ecclesiastical litigant was privileged to fight by deputy, a most convenient and safe method, since it not only guarded against the possibility of personal danger, but gave an almost infallible assurance of success, since he who enjoyed this advantage over his opponent, must have been a fool to omit selecting for his champion, one whose strength of muscle, agility of limb, and huge of bulk, gave him an overwhelming advantage.

Some time about the year of the Norman invasion, a dispute of this nature arose between the Viscomte de Touars, and the Abbot of St. Aubin, of Angers, respecting a horse, which the Viscomte claimed as his right on the induction of every new Abbot into his office, and which the Abbot in question refused to supply; for ecclesiastics have been as conspicuous for resisting lay and even spiritual demands, as ever laymen have been in resisting Peter Pence, and other clerical extortions.

To extricate himself from difficulty, and evade the payment of the feudal claim, the crafty Abbot offered to decide the equity of the demand by ordeal, or by duel; proposing in the latter case, to furnish a champion, as he was prohibited by being an ecclesiastic, from meeting the Viscount in person. To this, at first, the Viscomte fully assented, but feeling convinced on reflection that the issue of such a contest depended more upon physical superiority than moral justice, he proposed a compromise, which might at once satisfy the cupidity of the Abbot, and avoid bringing his future claims into question. He offered to waive his demand for the present, in consideration of the Abbot's introducing into his own prayers, the names of Viscomte, his wife, and his brothers. As this was a payment which involved no pecuniary loss, and might, moreover, be withheld or not, without detection, the Abbot at

once closed with the proposal, and retained the horse.

The modern duel is almost the last relic of this ancient and superstitious barbarism, and is virtually an appeal to Heaven to be an accessory to murder, if not a principal,-by directing the ball in its flight against the guilty and from the innocent. The following is a ludicrious transaction of this kind which occurred many years since in the lesser Antilles, and terminated without danger or bloodshed. A certain Chief Justice of Nevis, who by the very nature of his office should have been conservator not infractor pacis, upon some slight provocation, challenged Josiah M-n-d, a young man distinguished alike for his coolness, courage, and intrepidity, to meet him in deadly feud. The salt ponds at St. Kitts were the neutral territory on which such claims of honour were most commonly decided; and as this Nevisian Wimbledon could only be reached by water, it was settled that the same boat should convey both belligerents and their friends to the ground; for which purpose a boat was to be in waiting near Black Rock Fort, on the north-western skirts of Charlestown, at eight the following morning. His Honour, punctual to the moment, was chafed at a delay of some ten or fifteen minutes in the arrival of his adversary, and regarding it as an indication of fear, presumed upon the supposition, somewhat imperiously to demand the cause. "Oh!" says Josiah, "I merely stopped to finish my breakfast." "Indeed," says the Judge, "well I determined to fight with an empty stomach, knowing the greater chance a full one has of obstructing the passage of a ball." The boat being now fairly afloat they embarked, and a sail of about a couple of hours brought them to their destination. They landed. The ground was measured, and the pistols loaded, when his Honour, from what cause remains a secret, flinging himself on his knees, sued for forgiveness; forgetting he was himself the challenger, and, up to that moment, the hero.

A CASUS BELLI.

IT happened that a certain Roman cardinal invited the Florentine ambassadors to his house, where one of them, struck with the beauty of a little dog belonging to their host, begged it as a present; next day the Pisan embassy was feasted, and the dog, already promised to the

Florentine, attracted equal admiration ; a similar request followed, and the cardinal, forgetting his previous engagement, answered it as graciously. Scarcely had the guests departed, when the animal was sent for by the Florentine ambassador; then came the Pisan messenger, but all too late; the two dignitaries met, restitution of the dog was immediately demanded and as decidedly refused: sharp altercation ensued, swords were soon drawn, and an affray succeeded in which the Pisans overcame by their superior numbers. The manners of the age, however, did not admit of such a termination, both Florentine factions united against the Pisans, and even volunteers from the capital came to the aid of the former; the affair had now become serious, almost national, and the Florentines took ample revenge. The Pisan ambassadors complained to their government, and their haughty countrymen, trusting to great naval power, and consequent influence on the trade of Florence, seized all the merchandise of that state which was within their grasp, and refused any satisfaction, while the latter carried its forbearance to a point of humiliation that proves its commercial relations with Pisa. The Florentines offered to take an equal number of bales of tow, or any other rubbish, however vile, in lieu of the goods, and afterwards indemnify their own merchants, so that some shadow of satisfaction might be exhibited to the world for the sake of national reputation; adding, that if this also failed their ancient friendship must cease, and war be the only alternative. "If the Florentines march, we will endeavour to meet them half way" was the contemptuous answer of Pisa. War was therefore declared, and in July the armies met at Castel del Bosco in the Pisan territory, Florence being probably assisted by Lucca, as the Lucchese historians assert; for it may be doubted whether the former at that early period could have ventured alone to war with so powerful an adversary, A long and bloody battle, ending in the total defeat of Pisa, satisfied the honour and soothed the pride of Florence; while thirteen hundred prisoners, including the greater part of the Pisan nobility, convinced the people that this victory was a palpable instance of divine retribution for the arrogance and injustice of their adversaries.--Napier's Florentine History.