so great; but the imagination was roused, and discovered with fond delight some trace of likeness in every detail. It seemed impossible to make enough of him; Sir Archibald scarcely withdrew his eyes from him. Aunt Kitty was making continual small arrangements for his comfort. A new prospect for the future happiness of her young lady opened out to the ardent affection of the faithful Eugénie, and she became lost in a world of conjecture into which perhaps some of Aunt Kitty's thoughts also strayed; for more than once their eyes met when looking lovingly on the cousins as they sat side by side conversing with eager interest.

Harry described his many travels, his life in Germany, his expeditions into Styria after bear hunts, his rifle practice in Switzerland, his adventures, his perils, his successes. Captain Warburton wondered how he could persuade himself to join in sports with Germans. Harry replied with descriptions of the skill and daring of his companions; and mentioned one or two famous shots who could not be surpassed by any Englishman.

'I see you doubt me, Warburton,' said he, and I know only one way of convincing you; I beg for the honour of your company in my next

excursion.'

'But you must not have any more excursions,' said Aunt Kitty; these bear hunts and wild sports are dangerous; we cannot let you expose yourself to danger. You must sit down quietly with us all at Hollybrook.'

A cloud passed over Ida's face, and she sighed.

Sir Archibald said harshly, 'I do not know when that will be, Catherine, but probably not just yet;' and bit his lips, and frowned.

Harry requested to be taken to see all the wonders of Badheim.

'All the wonders of Badheim are represented by the ruins of the old castle,' said Richard, and the salle de jeu. Which will you have?'

"The ruins; for ruin is better than ruination. Do you know, Ida, when I was at W-, I played at the public table, won 1ool. in

one night, decamped the next morning, and never staked so much as a kreutzer again.'

'That was well done,' said Ida. 'I am glad you won, Harry, and I am glad you left off playing.

'And I am very glad, Ida, that you approve of me.'

Captain Warburton, not_caring to see this dialogue prolonged, observed to them that it was time to be going; and accordingly Ida ran to put on her hat, and the gentlemen went out to wait for her in the garden.

The way to the old castle took them across the promenade, which seemed unusually thronged and full of excitement. There were groups of loungers collecting about the portico of the salle, gradually accumulating into a crowd; and Baron Entzberg's voice was heard ringing through them, indicating that he was a central figure, though his dimensions being small, he was screened from the sight by the ladies, all flounced and crinolined, who surrounded him.

A natural impulse drew the Conways to the spot to see what was going on, and the name of Prés de Lys, spoken by many different voices and accents, German, French, and English, reached their ears. Carlotta Schultz emerged from the assemblage.

'What is all the noise about, ma'mselle?' questioned Richard.

'Ah, my dear Captain, it is so distressing,' she replied, in English, 'it is enough to grieve for, it is a great pain, it is a heart sorrow. Poor young man, he has lost all his brains.'

'Good God! what!-blown his brains out?

'No, my Captain, no. He has not blown them, but they have flown; he remains, but they are gone they can come back nevermore.'

'Well,' said Richard, 'there were few enough of them to go-an easy conveyance-a quick march!'

'A sad story!' said Madame Stein, joining the Conways; 'so young, and his life so quite a ruin. What disaster, so to lose his cerebellum !'

"The Baron,' interrupted Carlotta, always jealous of Madame Stein's communications, naturally quicker and more voluble, and now accelerating her accustomed speed, 'the Baron has suspected a thing; he could see him leave our salle last night, and he has had his trepidations.

His heart has gone, bang! He has been to his house, then, on the early day, and he has found his landlord in great heart palpitations, for this young man had gone out at three o'clock on the morning and not come back. The Baron has gone to look for him, you see, he knew so well his favourite walks. He is so observing, and he has found him out, but all in distraction. M. d'Entzberg is stout, is altogether brave, for this poor young man had his pistols with him and lifted them up at the Baron's nose; but his Excellency has held his nose to the highest degree still, and has commanded the situation by his noble attitude.'

'But he must not be called Excellency,' said Madame Stein, cutting in sharply.

It is courtesy,' replied Carlotta, 'and I often hear the Count Wertheim call him Excellency.'

'He is no more a State officer; you know, Miss Ida, he holds no more a place in the Duke's closet; he is only a plain Baron.'

"Ah! the Duke's closet is a wrong phrase,' retorted Carlotta, is it not, Miss Ida? but I know, I know-it is true he is no more a cupboard minister. It is courtesy, however, to call him Excellency, and the Count Ernest often addresses him so.'

'You may call anybody, of course, excellent who deserves it,' said Richard; 'in his own way I daresay he does; and here he is.'

The Baron joined them.

'Mein Gott! it is my so adored child. Ach, Miss Ida, but your tender heart shall be sorry. See, our poor young dandy, our polité young friend, Prés de Lys, has no more wits-his poor little slim wits have divide from him in a life separation, in a divorce à mensa et toro, I fear. Mon Dieu! but he is

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white; his eyes are turned upstairs -he stares right out at me; he wags all over, ze poor child!-what for a trembling, what for an ague fit!'

'Has he, then, really gone mad?' asked Ida. Poor creature- - poor creature! Do tell me, dear Baron, the whole story as quickly as you can, for my father and Harry are impatient to go on.'

Ach, Lord Harry!-but you shall present me to Lord Harry. Well, but I shall tell you first my history. Prés de Lys has his illusion; he is delude: he believe he is possess gross sums at his pocket -infinite vast treasures; and we here shall all be robbers to try to plunder him. He has so fight his landlord. Du himmel! but I have taken ze load out of his pistols. It is his great loss last night!'

'He is very mad indeed, Miss Conway,' said Potolski, whose English, correct and fluent, made a great contrast to that of the preceding speaker, and who now approached Ida after a courteous salutation; 'positively he takes me for a thief. As soon as he saw me he levelled a pistol at my head, and if he had had the wit to pull the trigger I might not have been here to tell you the fact; but the incoherent fool no sooner held the pistol up than he flung it down again and sprang upon my throat! He called me bad names-he said I was the maudit capitaine of a band of brigands, and he swore that I should not touch one thaler of the enormous hordes his pockets concealed, the covetous dog! Whatever force his brains have lost his hands have gained, for the mark of his fingers is still upon my neck. I suspect, at Paris, in his senses, he has practised garotting, for he clearly knows very well how to do it now. I assure you I was faint after the attack; my shirt collars were completely destroyed, but, thanks to the interference of the Baron here, and of our excellent friend, the Herr Professor Florian Geier-for it took two men to hold him my life was not; and now that I have changed my dress I am quite myself again.'

Ida thought what a pity that was; and she now observed that Madame de Valincourt's eyes were fastened upon the Pole while he spoke with a singular bitter expression. While the general gossip was going on, she had once or twice directed an anxious, nervous glance at her husband; she had appeared disagreeably moved; and that was a remarkable event, for she was rarely guilty of any emotion but such as she thought it graceful to induce for drawing-room exhibition. It must be some deep-sunk fear that was undermining her selfpossession.

Félicie, on the other hand, appeared wonderfully diverted by the Chevalier's adventure, and began to whisper to Sir Archibald

'He has once escaped drowning,' said she, and once garotting; what is his end to be ?'

'Garotting is not hanging,' Sir Archibald drily replied.

'Come away now,' said Harry to Ida; 'there is no more to learn here; let us see what the old ruins have to tell us.'

The Baron insisted on an introduction.

'Ach! Lord Harry, are you not for me also a novel relation, a new parent?—it was a peculiarity in the Baron's language that, if he set one word right, he restored the balance by putting the next in succession wrong; so, when he altered novel to new, he at the same time changed relation for parent,-'for have I not called Miss Ida my child? Mon Dieu! you shall forgive me if I love her so infinite, for I cannot resist.'

Harry shook hands with him.

I am not disposed to quarrel with you on that account, Baron Entzberg. Will you come with us to the castle?'

'Mein Gott! it is my regret, but

I must not. See, I have no time to lose, for I must despatch our sad event by post to ze Prés de Lys' grandpère. I must watch on our young Prés de Lys; he must have his comforts; his landlord shall not keep him, perhaps; he has object, so I shall take him up to my own rooms, Maison Kühn. You see up so-high up, my windows. Herr Kühn shall not dare to say no to me. Mein Gott! can you see Arno? Arno, Arno, you bad child! Ach! he is hide under Mademoiselle Félicie's petticoats; he has his excuse-he is shiver; he is cold. He must have his glass wine.'

The dog was extricated; a handkerchief was tied to his collar, and he was led away, between reproaches and endearments, by his master.

Harry thought they might now move on; his impatience of detention, by a certain law of human nature, increased as the prospect of escape drew closer, and he whispered to Ida to lose no more time; but it was useless, for the Herr Professor Florian Geier and Mr. Orme now came up with their salutations.

'We must give way to fate,' Ida murmured, and fate comes heavily when he advances in the shape of the Professor.'

Harry only needed one glance at Florian while he made his laboured greetings, to confess the truth of this observation. There was a settled composure sitting upon every feature, he stood steadily in front of Ida, he fixed his spectacles in a comfortable position, he stroked his beard complacently, and he prepared himself for a harangue. It was a calamity which Harry bowed himself to with that pious submission which every sensible man assumes under the inevitable decree of destiny.

and Mantinea, the first in history which may be fairly said to have been generals' battles, as distinguished from those which, like Marathon, the Lutzen of Gustavus Adolphus, Inkerman, and others, were essentially soldiers' battles. The problem which Epaminondas was called upon to solve, was how to beat a well-appointed and disciplined army with a very inferior force; and he plainly saw that if he pitted man against man, he would be defeated by the mere force of numbers. Hitherto, when armies were about to engage, they were drawn up in parallel order, and in lines of equal strength throughout, and the battle soon became general along the whole front; an arrangement evidently disadvantageous to the weaker party. Epaminondas, in the actions above named, massed the principal part of his forces upon the one or the other flank, leaving the remainder of his line comparatively weak. He then attacked the enemy on some advantageous point, whether on the flank or centre, with the wing thus reinforced, holding back, or, in military phrase, refusing the rest of his line, until, having pierced and routed that part of the enemy's force on which was thus accumulated the whole weight of the assault, the refused' wing could take its part in the remainder of the action against a half-beaten and dispirited foe, and complete his defeat.

The importance of the principle thus practically enunciated by Epaminondas can scarcely be overstated. It lies at the root of all strategy, whether that term be applied to the general operations of a campaign, or to those of the battle-field. And the lesson it teaches is this: that there is, or ought to be, at every moment, some one object to be attained, on which the efforts of the whole disposable force should, if necessary, be centrated. To discover this object, and then to attain it, are of course the practical questions to be solved in each particular case, and they are questions of exceeding difficulty; but it is a great step gained when this oneness of purpose is recog

con

nised as a preliminary necessity, and when the action of every man, horse, and gun, is then combined towards its accomplishment, instead of being frittered away, as is too often the case, in a thousand objectless efforts.

In the battle of Mantinea, the Theban general further bequeathed to us the important principle of marching, when in presence of an enemy, in the order in which it is designed to fight him; the strict observance of which saved perhaps the French Emperor at the battle of Solferino. This merit is indeed assigned by our author, but it would appear erroneously, Hamilcar, though there is no doubt that the science of marches was greatly advanced by the Carthaginian general. To such a degree of perfection indeed was it brought under his auspices, that

to

At an interval of two thousand years, Frederic, in some of his most brilliant manœuvres, may be said rather to have equalled than surpassed him. Before Hamilcar reduced the principle of marches to a system, generals were often content, after selecting a point at which to meet the enemy, to advance towards it by the shortest route, and in an order of march which has been aptly termed processional, reserving their talent for the choice of a good position and the skilful occupation of it by their troops. Disdaining so conventional a method, Hamilcar, in the proximity of the enemy, broke up his army into several columns, thus increasing its mobility, and assimilating its order of march to its order of battle. He then

boldly advanced by manoeuvring marches, in which his troops were so disposed as to be able to give battle in any direction, and on any point of the space they were traversing; while such were the rapidity and variety of his evolutions, that they baffled and disconcerted even those veterans who had formerly become inured to war under his command.-(p. 32.)

The science of marches thus initiated by Epaminondas, and brought to such perfection by Hamilcar, was well understood in the subsequent ages of Greece and Rome, but appears to have been lost in the Middle Ages, and not to have been recovered till, with what may be termed the modern military epoch, it received a new