it to the countries which he forced into his alliance as a supreme felicity to have their sons led forth to fight foreign battles, and to have many thousands of them sacrificed every year upon the altar of his ambition, now sees them all abandon him, and become his bitterest enemies.  The Great Empire is now an idle dream.  Already is he nearly confined within that ancient France, which has lost through him the flower of her population.  Long has discontent lurked there in every bosom; long have her people beheld with indignation their youth driven across the Rhine, into foreign lands, where they were swept away by cold, famine, and the sword, so that few of them revisited their paternal homes.  Will the nation again be ready to bathe foreign plains with the blood of half a million of fresh victims?  Scarcely can it be so infatuated.  The French too are now roused from their torpor:  like the Germans, they will confine their exertions to the defence of their own frontiers against those mighty armies of Europe, which, crowned with laurels, wield the sword in one hand, and bear the olive of peace in the other.

SUPPLEMENT.

The following letter, which cannot but be considered as most honourable to the writer, contains so many minute, but, at the same time, highly characteristic traits, that it cannot fail to prove extremely interesting to every reader.  No other apology is necessary for its introduction here by way of Supplement.

Leipzig, Nov. 3, 1813.

DEAREST FRIEND,

You here see how ready I am to gratify your desire of knowing every thing that passed in my neighbourhood and that befell myself in the eventful days of October.  I proceed to the point without farther preamble.

Ever since the arrival of marshal Marmont I have constantly resided at the beautiful country-house of my employer at R***, where I imagined that I might be of some service during the impending events.  The general of brigade Chamois, an honest man, but a severe officer, was at first quartered there.

On the 14th of October every body expected a general engagement near Leipzig.  On that day several French corps had arrived in the neighbourhood.  The near thunders of the artillery, which began to roll, and the repeated assurances of the French officers that the anniversary of the battles of Ulm and Jena would not be suffered to pass uncelebrated, seemed to confirm this expectation.  The king of Saxony entered by the palisadoed gates of the outer city, and Napoleon also soon arrived.  The latter came from Dueben, and took possession of a bivouac in the open field, not far from the gallows, close to a great watch-fire.  I was one of those who hastened to the spot, to obtain a sight of the extraordinary man, little suspecting that a still greater honour awaited me, namely, that of sleeping under the same roof, nay, even of being admitted to a personal interview of some