sleeping the sleep of the dead. Call her, King of France, but she will not hear thee! Cite her by thy apparitors to come and receive a robe of honour, but she will be found en contumace. When the thunders of universal France, as even yet may happen, shall proclaim the grandeur of the poor shepherd girl that gave up all for her country, thy ear, young shepherd girl, will have been deaf for five centuries. Το suffer and to do, that was thy portion in this life; that was thy destiny; and not for a moment was it hidden from thyself. Life, thou saidst, is short: and the sleep which is in the grave is long! Let me use that life, so transitory, for the glory of those heavenly dreams destined to comfort the sleep which is so long. This pure creature-pure from every suspicion of even a visionary self-interest, even as she was pure in senses more obvious-never once did this holy child, as regarded herself, relax from her belief in the darkness that was travelling to meet her. She might not prefigure the very manner of her death; she saw not in vision, perhaps, the aerial altitude of the fiery scaffold, the spectators without end on every road pouring into Rouen as to a coronation, the surging smoke, the volleying flames, the hostile faces all around, the pitying eye that lurked but here and there, until nature and imperishable truth broke loose from artificial restraints; these might not be apparent through the mists of the hurrying future. But the voice that called her to death, that she heard for ever.

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LVII.

SIR WILLIAM NAPIER.

1785-1860.

SIR WILLIAM NAPIER was one of the distinguished family of that name. His chivalrous generosity, his daring courage—at times betrayed into fierce controversy-his unblemished purity of life, make him a pattern of an English soldier. He was the handsomest man I ever saw,' was the testimony of one who, without knowing who he was, saved his life in Spain by a draught of cooling beverage. His chief career was in the Peninsular War, of which he was the historian; his style is equally remarkable for its perspicuity and the vigour of its English, rising at times into passages of the finest historical eloquence.

1. The Close of the Battle of Albuera.

SUCH a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke and rapidly separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the enemy's heavy masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an assured victory: they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole, the three colonels, Ellis, Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fuzileer battalions, struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships. But suddenly and sternly recovering they closed on their terrible enemies; and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture

animate his Frenchmen; in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and fiercely striving, fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen hovering on the flank threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order, their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the dissonant cries that broke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as slowly and with a horrid carnage it was pushed by the incessant vigour of the attack to the farthest edge of the height. There the French reserve mixed with the struggling multitude and endeavoured to sustain the fight, but the effort only increased the irremediable confusion, the mighty mass gave way and like a loosened cliff went headlong down the steep the rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and eighteen hundred unwounded men, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British soldiers, stood triumphant on the fatal hill!

2. The British Infantry.

THAT the British infantry soldier is more robust than the soldier of any other nation, can scarcely be doubted by those who, in 1815, observed his powerful frame distinguished amidst the united armies of Europe; and notwithstanding his habitual excess in drinking, he sustains fatigue and wet, and the extremes of cold and heat, with incredible vigour,

When completely disciplined, and three years are required to accomplish this, his port is lofty and his movements free, the whole world cannot produce a nobler specimen of military bearing, nor is the mind unworthy of the outward man. He does not indeed possess that presumptuous vivacity which would lead him to dictate to his commanders, or even to censure real errors although he may perceive them; but he is observant and quick to comprehend his orders, full of resources under difficulties, calm and resolute in danger, and more than usually obedient and careful of his officers in moments of imminent peril.

It has been asserted that his undeniable firmness in battle is the result of a phlegmatic constitution uninspired by moral feeling. Never was a more stupid calumny uttered! Napoleon's troops fought in bright fields where every helmet caught some beams of glory, but the British soldier conquered under the cold shade of aristocracy, no honours awaited his daring, no despatch gave his name to the applauses of his countrymen, his life of danger and hardship was uncheered by hope, his death unnoticed. Did his heart sink therefore? Did he not endure with surpassing fortitude the sorest of ills, sustain the most terrible assaults in battle unmoved, overthrowing with incredible energy every opponent, and at all times prove, that while no physical military qualification was wanting, the fount of honour was also full and fresh within him!

The result of a hundred battles and the united testimony of impartial writers of different nations have given the first place amongst the European infantry to the British; but in a comparison between the troops of France and England, it would be unjust not to admit that the cavalry of the former stands higher in the estimation of the world.

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LVIII.

THOMAS ARNOLD.

1795-1842.

THOMAS ARNOLD, born in 1795, was educated at WinchesFrom school he went to Oxford, where he was elected to a Scholarship at Corpus Christi College, and afterwards to a Fellowship at Oriel, at that time the most distinguished Society in the University. In 1818 he took Orders, and for nine years lived in the country as a private tutor. In 1828 he was appointed to the Head Mastership of Rugby School, the duties of which he discharged till his death with great and memorable success. In 1841 he was made Regius Professor of Modern History at Oxford, but had only delivered a single course of lectures, when he died suddenly at Rugby, June 12, 1842. He published several volumes of School Sermons, a well-known edition of Thucydides, a Roman History, (which was intended to be continued to the time of Charlemagne, but at his death had only advanced as far as the latter years of the Second Punic War,) a volume of Introductory Lectures on Modern History, and some pamphlets on political and ecclesiastical topics.

Dr. Arnold's style underwent the same change which Lord Macaulay notes as having taken place in the style of Bacon, and also in that of Burke-a change from an almost bare simplicity to considerable richness and fullness, rising at times to a high order of eloquence. He is not always careful in the construction of his sentences, and most of his writings betray signs of haste. But he has a freshness of feeling and a glow of moral enthusiasm which impart beauty as well as force to his style, and far more than atone for occasional prolixity and negligence of expression.