wreathed around the lofty columns, and shadowed the coffin of him who had won them. Our visit was on the last morning before the interment, when none were admitted but peers, and such as could obtain peers' medals. There in groups might be seen some of the ancient regime, whose memories extended to the times of unbroken royalty, when the blood of sixty kings flowed peacefully in the veins of Louis the Sixteenth. Others there were, whose friends had perished under the guillotine, or in the prisons of the revolution; and others, whose earliest days were embittered by the ambition of the Corsican. Around the coffin, on whose sides the initial N was deeply sunk in gold, incessantly paced with measured tread the scarred and wrinkled soldiers, keeping guard over the garnered ashes of him, who was both their glory and their bane. From an altar in the recess arose the chanted strain of the priests for the dead; but a deeper voice in the heart said, that all the pride of man was dust, and asked what would be the glory of the warrior, when God judgeth the soul.
