idea of liberty; but, on the other hand, there is no doubt that it is also a practical want. The massing of colossal armies, the adornment of the capital nay, even the vast internal improvements which the Empire has achieved in every part of France; these are no compensations for a prohibition of free worship, free association, and free speech. Is this Empire-exhibiting at once so much material prosperity and splendor, and so much want and degradation-is it durable? Are the union of internal peace and absolute power,-the idea of a single man perpetually deputed by the nation to exercise despotic power-the new gospel of Cæsarism, wanting only in the Cæsaric notion of illimitable conquests, a people self-doomed, yielding up its God-given gift of liberty to the caprice of an individual will-are these things lasting? The success of Napoleon III. has been owing to his singular capacity as a governor, to the power which a unity of ideas never fails to give, to that harmony which results from a vast machinery directed by a single mind, to the fact that upon every administrative act has pressed the whole strength of a singly-directed excutive power. It has been due to a single and singularly shrewd and sagacious intellect, which has acquired and used an unlimited opportunity to act. He has been wise enough to foster education, and even to disregard priestly protestations, by giving a wide field to this great civilizer. Charities, benevolence, have become, under the guidance of the Empress, fashionable. The person and the property of the citizen have been protected by a most admirable system of police. Canals and rural roads have been built, and in the cities sanitary and ornamental reforms have been completed with unparalleled vigor. Commerce is more free than ever before; and along the seacoast, and in the harbors, the beneficent improving hand of this more than patriarchal Government has worked many a miraculous change. As far as mere administration is concerned, there is no fault to find; and there is no doubt that this wonderful administrative vigor has gone far to content the French with the Napoleonic dynasty. But Napoleon III. cannot live forever; a day must come when the architect and protector of this vast fabric will no longer be here, to watch over and improve its security, to guard it from the tempests raised by its enemies. How will it be when he is gone? No one knows how soon this test of the inherent virtues of the Empire will come. The health of the Emperor is not stalwart, and of late, it has been noticed that be is losing that sturdy self-reliance which formerly disdained all counsel, and, selfcommuning and self-deciding, chose his policy by his own reason alone. He leans upon others; he hesitates and wavers; it is evident that the strain of twenty years has unstrung the once iron nerve, has wearied and weakened the once calm and self-dependent mind. Disease has aided in the work; a youth of vicissitude and dissipation laid the foundation. How much depends upon the character and the native strength of the Imperial heir! for the only excuse for the dynastic absolutism which prevails to-day, lies in its administrative vigor; the only excuse for the deprivation of liberty lies in the greater strength of the Government; hence the greater interior and exterior security of the nation. Were death, then, to deprive France and the dynasty of Napoleon III., and were it then discovered that the dynasty, with him, had lost its virtue of protection and energy for which liberty was bartered away-who shall venture to predict the issue? A BRILLIANT AFFAIR. THE brilliant affair that I refer to was one of that series of Confederate triumphs which so disastrously lured the Southern States on to their fate. Beauregard had taken Sumter, and the example thus set was speedily followed up by similar exploits. Governor E. of had announced to the world that every foot of his State was "sacred soil," and by consequence not to be polluted by the tread of Yankee footsteps, nor to be possessed by a foreign power, as the Federal government was stigmatized. At that date the stars and stripes were waving serenely over a United States arsenal under the very eyes, almost, of the potentate who had made this solemn announcement, and he magnanimously resolved that the "rag" (as he called the flag) should be lowered. Accordingly, he sent Colonel Windblow down with plenary powers to raise a force of armed men and capture the arsenal. Colonel Windblow was one of the Governor's staff, and was placed in charge of this important expedition for various good reasons. In the first place, he was a resident of the town near which the arsenal was located. He was a lawyer. Also a politician. He had been a member of the Federal Congress up to the accession of President Lincoln, when he withdrew from that body with an air that made (so it was supposed by his friends at the time) all the Northern members feel intensely mean. His title of Colonel had been won, not by the sword, but by the tongue, and he knew as little of military matters as any militiageneral from Maine to California,-fitness for position in our militia being usually in an inverse ratio to rank. His courage was unquestionable, for he had challenged a parson to the duello; which was proof enough that he feared neither man nor devil. Finally, Windblow had asked for the command, claiming the right to lead his brave constituency to battle. Windblow arrived upon the scene astoundingly inflated with his mission. Every body who dared to look upon him saw that he was big with great events. He condescended to inform certain of the civic and military dignitaries of the trust which he was to execute. The news flew from street to street, from house to house, and soon the whole town was in a ferment of excitement. Windblow, cool and self-possessed, looked down upon the storm he had raised like a magician confident in the potency of his spells. Ever and anon he would stalk majestically among his fellow-citizens with a preoccupied port, causing his own brother to assume a bastardly mien in his presence. His manner plainly told the vulgar populace, "Yesterday I knew you, perhaps; to-day I know nobody but myself.". Men usually are heroes only after the event, but he was doubly fortunate in being a hero before it. His aspect and deportment actually astonished the wife of his bosom for a few moments, but that worthy woman promptly recovered from the feeling, and, calmly viewing the stir caused by her lord, pronounced it a decided case of one fool making many. The arsenal was situate upon a high hill overlooking the town. It was garrisoned by about forty United States soldiers, under the command of a lieutenant. This garrison had been sent on the earnest petition of the mayor and citizens, who the year before had been in grave apprehension of a negro insurrection. Circumstances amazingly alter cases. The garrison was not wanted any longer. The insurrection among the blacks had not occurred, but here was an uprising of their masters! Truly, it is hard to tell beforehand how things will turn out. The fear was that the negro would strike for himself, and he would have been set down as an ass unmixed who should have suggested that the very violence of the owners to retain their slaves would result in a more effectual and speedy emancipation. However, here was the garrison; and those very persons who had formerly besought its protection, now the more eagerly entreated it to be gone. But entreaties were showered in vain on that stubborn lieutenant. He did his duty. He obeyed orders. He was not to be urged nor restrained by the most pathetic of obtestations. Nor would he recognize any other than Federal authority. He treated the demands of the Governor and of Colonel Windblow with high disdain, and betook himself to the necessary preparations for a stout defence of his position. He raised a larger flag and beat his drum and blew his fife more loudly than ever. Windblow assured the people of the town and county that the arsenal must be taken, though "at the point of the bayonet!" The war was in their very midst, and it found the hot youth eager for the fray. They volunteered, they organized, they drilled, they made balled cartridges, swore fierce oaths, and drank much whiskey. They called their officers Bill, Jim, Jack, or Tom, Dick, and Harry. They made the captain and his lieutenants obey their orders implicitly, and cursed those unlucky fellows in commission at their own good-will and pleasure. The old men gave them unlimited cocktails, and the young women gave them cockades. There was a merry pause and intermission in all the ordinary humdrum business and cares of life. Hotels sent their best of edibles and potables to these incipient heroes, and every household in the land strove to contribute daily dainties to their dessert. If a high-private was forced to recline his weary frame on a mere mattress, he did so under protest, and at the first opportunity damned his officers to their teeth for not furnishing enough feather-beds and chambermaids; and, his hard case becoming known to the community, there would be indignation meetings and a committee appointed to inquire "wherefore Captain Johnson could so cruelly insult and punish our estimable friend, Mister High-Private Brown?" They ate and drank and smoked-and so it came to pass that one company inscribed upon its banner this apt quotation from Shakespeare: "He who hath no stomach to this fight, Windblow, knowing that it was a case of a whole State against twoscore men, was valiantly resolved to succeed. He had at first intimated his intention of making a levy en masse in all the circumjacent counties, but was prevailed upon at length to limit his call to the county in which the arsenal stood, it be ng capable of furnishing two thousand able-bodied men for the occasion. The requisite orders having been given, there was immense activity in making ready for the attack. One who had heard the dreadful notes of preparation would have thought, had he not been otherwise informed, that forty thousand men were to be assaulted instead of forty. Meanwhile the forty quietly fortified themselves. At last the all-eventful day arrived when Colonel Windblow marshalled his troops to the assault. The two thousand were all present, and they presented a motley if not a terrible array. The spruce attire of the town-volunteers was in striking contrast with that of the militia; yet it would have been difficult to tell which were the worse accoutred and equipped for actual warfare. They were all, however, full of martial ardor, and ready for the fight. Before they moved off towards the arsenal, nevertheless, it was whispered among them that the Federal coinmander had notified the mayor that he was apprised of the adventure to be attempted that day, and that he should not hesitate to use all the means in his power to defeat it, even to the extent of bombarding the town. The whisper, as it ran, carried dismay with it to many a heart that, till then, had dreamed only of a bloodless victory. Though the hour at which the march began was an early one of a bracing spring day, and though the distance to be traversed was only a mile and a half, seven hundred men had faluted, swooned, sickened, and otherwise fallen out of ranks before the line of battle was formed in the vicinity of the arsenal, leaving only thirteen hundred warriors to storm the place. The accidental discharge of a firearm on the route so completely demoralized a certain Major Quattlebum, theretofore noted for his hunger for fire and his thirst for blood, that he incontinently betook himself to flight, going so far that even conscription failed to find him, and only recently turning up again as an unconditional and original Unionist. There were some gallant spirits that day that shone bravely. I remember me Jones-old Tobias Jones-the cashier of the bank. How I yearn for the power to draw him as he was that day! Apparelled most daintily from head to foot, he stepped gingerly, but resolutely along, holding in his kidded right-hand a green silk umbrella. He was an independent volunteer, fighting on his own account, and a host in himself. Behind him came his servant, John, bearing a double-barrelled gun, with powder-flask, shot-pouch, and game-bag. Every now and then the master would turn to look back upon his man, for he was impressed with the belief that John would retreat in disorder at the shortest notice, if a sharp eye was not kept upon him. An official on horseback happening to pass this latest rendition of Quixote and Panza, the master hailed him for the latest news. "We'll have to fight!" was the response of the horseman, as he rode away in haste. The Confederates were scarcely formed in line when Colonel Windblow rode along the front. His presence struck an overpowering awe into the hearts of all beholders. There was a current impression in all the rank and file that at his sovereign will and pleasure he could order any man in the county to instant death by rope or musketry. The leading spirit of the place and time, he was conscious that he was playing a part that would live in history, and he bore himself accordingly. "Soldiers!" said he, "I see that you are anxious to measure swords with the enemy. I am no less eager. But it is our duty first to see if the effusion of human blood may not be avoided. For this purpose I go at once to the insolent foe to call him to a surrender. If he still proves stubborn, I will then 'cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of war!"" The commandant of the arsenal did prove stubborn. He demanded to be allowed to inspect the force brought against him. This was granted, and he came along the line of battle accompanied by one or two officers selected by Windblow. He looked at the line of battle and smiled; the line of battle looked at him and scowled. The line of battle was not surprised at the bearing of the impudent Federal. A man who could dare to withstand the peremptory Windblow was not to be expected to quail before any number of inferior men. The lieutenant estimated Windblow at his true worth, and was not at all intimi"John," said Mr. Jones, solemnly, dated by the mighty airs assumed by can you load that gun?" that official. Another also knew Wind "I dunno, sar; nev tried yit," was the blow, and was not to be deceived by his satisfactory reply. "Then hold my umbrella over me while I load, if I have not forgotten how." And then and there the twain between them so managed to load the weapon that it was a God's-mercy it was not discharged that day. Having selected a position, Mr. Jones, with an eye on John, held the umbrella while John shouldered the gun,-the master impatiently awaiting the signal to deal death upon the enemy. haughty carriage and his blustering tone; and this other was-a woman! The greater part of the women, in trepidation, had deserted their houses in the town on the intimation of a probable bombardment, and had sought refuge in an adjacent hollow that was supposed to be perfectly sheltered from the fire of the arsenal. Here the party remained. in anxious suspense, the prey of all sorts of rumors. At length a late arrival of frightened fugitives brought word that the deadly struggle was about to begin, and that Colonel Windblow had gallantly pranced to the front on his spirited charger for the purpose of leading his levies to the attack. This, of course, created great terror and excitement in the timid crowd. More than one fair one swooned away, and many gave vent to sobs and tears. Nearly all were in an intense agony of alarm. One alone seemed to rise equal to the occasion. It was Mrs. Col. Windblow. As the Colonel was the leader of the men, how fitting that his wife should be the leader of the women! "Is Colonel Windblow at the front?" she asked. "He certainly is," was the answer; "and he is so impatient for the strife that he is said to be insisting on impossible conditions, so as to prevent a peaceable surrender." "If the Colonel is there," said the lady, preparing to depart, "then we need not be under the slightest apprehension. For my part, I feel so secure that I shall return home at once!" Here was an exalted display of confidence in a husband, and her companions were accordingly edified by it. Yet her trusting spirit was not fully shared by the others. "We know," said they, "that Colonel Windblow is a great man, and will do all he can to protect us; but how can he stay the death-dealing shell and spherical-case? Your reliance on him is beautiful, nay, sublime; but it is simple madness to leave this safe asylum until the fight is over. You must not go!" "Pshaw!" rejoined the wife of the Colonel; "I am not so sentimental as you all suppose. The truth is, that if Colonel Windblow is at the front, as we are assured he is, there cannot be the least danger there, and consequently none in the town. I know him well enough to be sure that he would not risk himself in any perilous situation. We may all as well go home!" There was a brief interval of hesitation, and then the whole party burst into laughter as they followed the wife who knew her lord. Meanwhile the inspection proceeded. Conspicuous in the line was the company of militia from Pea-Neck, commanded by Captain Burley. The valorous Captain was enveloped in a complete suit of rusty continentals, handed down to him through several generations, and he looked as fierce as the old broadsword that he held to his shoulder. His men were fit followers of so prepos terous a leader, and were armed with all sorts of valetudinary weapons, from a Queen Anne's musket to a three-dollar cast iron bird-gun. They glowered ominously at the Federal as he approached. "How many men have you, Captain?" asked the lieutenant, of Captain Burley. "A hundred and twenty present, and as many more in the woods, if needed! I thought half my crowd would be enough!” "Yes, Captain, there are enough men here not only to kill me and my command, but to raise a suspicion that it is also the intention to eat us! How many rounds of ammunition have you?” "Three!" responded Burley. "Three!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "You must expect short work of it, indeed!" 66 Devilish!" assented Burley. In the rear of the line was the artillery. This consisted of two ancient iron pieces, consecrated by immemorial usage to the Fourth of July. They were embrowned and honey-combed by rust, and had neither limber-chests nor caissons. By some complicated contrivance, a team of six mules was attached to each, and these were guided by negro drivers, who sat upon the nigh-wheelers, armed with long whips. Each driver-controlled his team by a long line attached to the leading animal, giving a jerk, or a pull, and crying, "Whoa!" "Gee!" or "Haw!" as the emergency might demand. The ammunition was carried in two mule-carts, driven by negro-boys. The whole was well calculated to strike terror into the heart of the enemy, but the Federal commandant was self-possessed enough to dissemble his real emotions with an affected smile of derision. |