I was anxious to see the spot where Poniatowsky fell.  We returned over the plain to the city, and passed in at the gate by which the Cossacks entered, pursuing the flying French.  Crossing the lower part, we came to the little river Elster, in whose waves the gallant prince sank.  The stone bridge by which we crossed was blown up by the French to cut off pursuit.  Napoleon had given orders that it should not be blown up till the Poles had all passed over as the river, tho narrow, is quite deep and the banks are steep.  Nevertheless, his officers did not wait, and the Poles, thus exposed to the fire of the enemy, were obliged to plunge into the stream to join the French army, which had begun retreat toward Frankfort.  Poniatowsky, severely wounded, made his way through a garden near, and escaped on horseback into the water.  He became entangled among the fugitives, and sank.  By walking a little distance along the road toward Frankfort we could see the spot where his body was taken out of the river; it is now marked by a square stone covered with the names of his countrymen who have visited it.  We returned through the narrow arched way by which Napoleon fled when the battle was lost.

Another interesting place in Leipsic is Auerbach’s Cellar, which, it is said, contains an old manuscript history of Faust from which Goethe derived the first idea of his poem.  He used to frequent this cellar, and one of his scenes in “Faust” is laid in it.  We looked down the arched passage; not wishing to purchase any wine, we could find no pretense for entering.  The streets are full of book-stores, and one-half the business of the inhabitants appears to consist in printing, paper-making and binding.  The publishers have a handsome exchange of their own, and during the fairs the amount of business transacted is enormous.

At last in this “Florence of the Elbe,” as the Saxons have christened it!  Exclusive of its glorious galleries of art, which are scarcely surpassed by any in Europe, Dresden charms one by the natural beauty of its environs.  It stands in a curve of the Elbe, in the midst of green meadows, gardens and fine old woods, with the hills of Saxony sweeping around like an amphitheater and the craggy peaks of the highlands looking at it from afar.  The domes and spires at a distance give it a rich Italian look, which is heightened by the white villas embowered in trees gleaming on the hills around.  In the streets there is no bustle of business—­nothing of the din and confusion of traffic which mark most cities; it seems like a place for study and quiet enjoyment.