powerfully shaped the general character of the nobles.  In England, the efforts for political power, and the distinctions of political fame, preserve our nobility from relaxing into the slavery of indulgence.  The continual ascent of accomplished minds from the humbler ranks, at once reinforces their ability and excites their emulation; and if England may proudly boast of men of intellectual vigour, worthy of rising to the highest rank from the humblest condition, she may, with not less justice, boast of her favourites of fortune fitted to cope with her favourites of nature.

Among these showy and high-bred soldiers, the hours passed delightfully.  Anecdotes of every court of Europe, where most of them had been, either as tourists or envoys; the piquant tales of the court of their unfortunate sovereign; narratives—­sufficiently contemptuous of the present possessors of power; and chansons—­some gay, and some touching—­made us all forget the flight of time.  Among their military choruses was one which drew tears from many a bold eye.  It was a species of brief elegy to the memory of Turenne, whom the French soldier still regarded as his tutelar genius.  It was said to have been written on the spot where that great leader fell:—­

     “Recois, O Turenne, ou tu perdis lavie,
      Les transports d’un soldat, qui te plaint et t’envie. 
      Dans l’Elysee assis, pres du cef des Cesars,
      Ou dans le ciel, peutetre entre Bellone et Mars. 
      Fais-moi te suivre en tout, exauce ma priere;
      Puis se-je ainsi remplir, et finir ma carriere.”

The application to the immediate circumstances of those brave gentlemen was painfully direct.  What to-morrow might bring was unknown, further than that they would probably soon be engaged with their countrymen; and whether successful or not, they must be embarked in war against France.  But my intelligence that an action was expected on the next day awoke the soldier within them again; the wrongs of their order, the plunders of the ruling faction, their hopeless expatriation, if some daring effort was not made, and the triumphant change from exiles to possessors and conquerors, stirred them all into enthusiasm.  The army of the Allies, the enemy’s position, the public feeling of Paris, and the hope of sharing in the honours of an engagement which was to sweep the revolutionary “canaille” before the “gentlemen of France,” were the rapid and animating topics.  All were ardent, all eloquent; fortune was at their feet, the only crime was to doubt—­the only difficulty was to choose in what shape of splendid vengeance, of matchless retribution, and of permanent glory, they should restore the tarnished lustre of the diadem, and raise the insulted name of France to its ancient rank among the monarchies of the world.  I never heard among men so many brilliancies of speech—­so many expressions of feeling full of the heart—­so glowing a display of what the heart of man may unconsciously retain for the time when some great emotion rouses all its depths, and opens them to the light of day.  It was to me a new chapter in the history of man.