and had begged Napoleon to avoid a conflict. Rapp came in after the victory, and likewise pleaded with the Emperor to desist, recalling the awful scenes of distress which he had observed at every step since leaving the Niemen. But Napoleon remembered that his transport barges had been wrecked on the river bars, and that his wagon-trains were without horses or oxen to draw them. The counterfeit paper money he had brought from Paris would no longer pass; where was he to find sustenance for his still numerous force of 185,000 men at least? Only by pressing on to some populous city; and on the 24th his army was in motion eastward. If Alexander could be brought to terms he would yield more quickly with one of his capitals in the enemy's grasp. The French base was secure; there were garrisons of about 14,000 men each in Vitebsk, Orscha, and Mohileff; another was left at Smolensk. The line from the Niemen to Moscow was very long, yet Schwarzenberg was on the right to prevent Tormassoff from breaking through, and Wittgenstein on the left was too weak to be a menace. This reasoning proved to be fallacious, because the Russians were constantly increasing their strength, while that of the French, both on the base of operations and on the line of march, was diminishing. The Austrian

38 J. Hart J. C. N.J.

troops, moreover, behaved toward Russia as the Russian soldiers had behaved toward Austria in the last campaign; that is, as a friendly exploring guard, and not as hostile invaders. It is now easy to say that to lengthen the French line of operation was a military blunder. It was wrong. The reasons are partly strategic, but chiefly moral, and were not so clearly discernible then. The strength of Russian national feeling was unknown to Napoleon, and, in the face of national feeling, a single man, world-conqueror though he may have been during a period of national disorganization, is before the march of national regeneration an object of microscopic size.

Barclay was charged by the old Russians with being too German in feeling, with manoeuvering timidly when he ought to fight, and, sacrilege of sacrileges, with leaving the sacred image of the Virgin at Smolensk to fall into hostile hands. Yielding to the storm of popular feeling, Alexander appointed in his stead Kutusoff, the darling of the conservative Slavonic party; but Barclay was persuaded to remain, and his policy was sustained. The Russians withdrew before the French advance, until, on September 3, their van halted on the right bank of the Kalatscha, opposite Borodino, to strike the decisive

blow in defense of Moscow. On the 4th Napoleon's van attacked and drove before it the Russian rear, which was just closing in. He had 128,000 men within reach. That night he issued a ringing address; recalling Austerlitz, he summoned the soldiers to behave so that future generations would say of each, «He was in that great battle under the walls of Moscow.» Next morning a courier arrived, bringing a portrait of the little King of Rome. The Emperor hung it before his tent, and invited his officers to admire it. But at night the sinister news of Marmont's defeat at Salamanca arrived. Napoleon said nothing, but was heard in self-communing to deplore the barbarity of war. All night he seemed restless, fearing lest the Russians should elude him as they had in other crises; but rising at five, and discerning their lines, he called aloud: «They are ours at last. March on; let us open the gates of Moscow.»>

The Russians, roused by religious fervor, and elevated by a fatalistic premonition of success, had thrown up trenches and redoubts at advantageous points on their chosen battle-field. In their first onset they advanced like devotees, with the cry, «God have mercy upon us!» and, as each forward rank went down before the relentless invaders, those behind pressed forward over the bodies of their comrades. But it was all in vain; throughout the 4th and 5th of September one outpost after another was taken, until at ten in the evening of the latter day the whole Russian force was thrown back on its main position, stretching from the bank of the Moskwa on the north, behind the Kalatscha, as far as Utizy on the south, such portions as were not naturally sheltered being protected by strong redoubts. There were 120,000 in all, of which about 17,000 were un-uniformed peasantry. Opposite stood the French, Poniatowski on the right, Davout, with the guard, in the rear, then Eugène. Behind Davout, to the left, Ney, and somewhat behind, in the same line, Junot. The orders were for an opening cannonade, Poniatowski to surround the Russian left, Eugène to cross the Kalatscha by three bridges thrown over during the night, and attack the Russian right, while Morand and Gérard, his auxiliaries, should move on the center, and storm the defenses erected there.

The battle was conducted almost to the letter of these orders, but such was Russian valor that, instead of being a brilliant manouver, it developed into a bloody face-to-face conflict, determined by sheer force. At six

in the morning the artillery opened. Poniatowski advanced, was checked, but, supported by Ney, stood firm until Junot came in; they two then stood together, while Ney and Davout dashed at the enemy's center. Eugène having acted in perfect concert, Poniatowski then advanced alone, and his task was completed by nine. But he was so weakened by his terrific exertions that he could only hold what he had gained. At ten Ney and Davout, reinforced by Friant, seized the central redoubts, but they, too, were exhausted, and could only hold the Russian line, which bent inward and stood without breaking. Eugène then massed his whole division, and charged. The resistance was stubborn, and the fighting terrific, but by three his opponents yielded, his artillery opened, and he held his gains. About the same time Junot reached Poniatowski, and their combined exertions finally overpowered the Russian left. So superhuman had been the exertions of both armies that they rested on their arms in these relative positions all night, the Russians too exhausted to flee, the French too weary to pursue. But early on the 7th the flight of Kutusoff began, and the French started in pursuit. Between the generals of the Russian rear and those of Napoleon's van an agreement was made that if the former were left to pass through Moscow unmolested, the latter should gain the city without a blow. The contracting parties kept their pact; but the governor of Moscow rendered the agreement void. Great crowds of the inhabitants joined the Russian columns, as, six days later, they marched between the rows of inflammable wooden houses, of which the suburbs were composed, and, as they tramped sullenly onward, thin pillars of ascending smoke began to appear here and there on the outer lines. But when, two hours after the last Russian soldier had disappeared, the cavalry of Murat clattered through the streets, the fires attracted little attention, nor at the moment was Napoleon's contentment diminished by them, as, from the "mount of salutation,» whence pious pilgrims were wont to greet the holy city, he ordered his guard to advance and occupy the Kremlin, that fortress which enshrines all that is holiest in Russian faith. Kutusoff, boasting that he had held his ground overnight, had persuaded the inhabitants of Moscow, and even the Czar, that he had been the victor, and that he was withdrawing merely to await the arrival of the victorious and veteran legions from the Danube, when he would choose his field, and annihilate the invaders.

ISS TODD entered the editorial room of the «Evening Appeal» and came over to my desk. She was from Kentucky, and a «society reporter,» doing work for various papers, the «Appeal » among others. She was pretty, in the fair, rounded, simple way one sees in so many Kentucky girls. Miss Todd's girlishness was a little worn by time and journalism, but her Kentuckyism was delightfully fresh in spots, and showed now even in her toilet, which was too light and too blue and too much decorated to look indigenous.

«Miss Addington, I want to ask you about something," she said-and for the dearness of it I would like to indicate her Southern speech, her long, flat vowels and clipped consonants, but only Mr. Cable could do it well. I can't be reading the Appeal all the time, and Mr. Mattison is always so cross if you don't know everything about his paper. Do tell me, what stand are you taking about that Sam Hartley investigation? >>

« We say he stole the railroad and will go to the penitentiary, and that hanging is too good for him. Is he going to give a ball for you to write up? »

"Well,» began Miss Todd, simply, it's not exactly that; but I've found out that his wife would like to be written up, though she has n't known how to go about it. She is a nice, plain, respectable woman, and she feels terribly about all this business. She's very pious and charitable, and all that; and she feels like it would be something for Mr. Hartley if the papers took some notice of her. No one has ever looked at her in New York, far as I can find out, except to go to her for money. I'm going to make a feature of her for a Sunday or two. Do you know what papers are on his side?»

I mentioned one in which Mr. Sam Hartley was supposed to have a controlling financial interest, stating that fact.

"She's so simple I don't reckon she even knows that," said Miss Todd. «She's the countriest of the country; the kind of woman who wears white stockings-I saw them myself. I like her, and then I want to get her to do something for a friend of mine.»>

«Oh, I said, "it's a deal, is it? » «Yes, I reckon so, specially as I want my friend to do me a good turn too. Have you

done your story on the Chinese Bureau of Information yet?»

«Yes, it's in type; but talking of good turns, I want one of you. Mattison has a notion for a special about how a young woman doctor gets into practice here in New York. It does n't seem very fresh, or as if there were much in it anyway; but it's his own idea, so it's got to be brilliant. I don't know any women doctors myself; do you?» Miss Todd was smiling.

«Why,» she said, "it's a woman doctora young one, too. She 's our doctor, and I 'most know she 'd-»

Miss Todd hesitated, and I asked, «Can she talk? »

<< Well, she never does talk, but she'd be good about answering; and she 's seen a lot, and she 's very nice.»

It further appeared that this medical lady -Parsons was her name-was a frequent visitor of the house of Todd, for Mrs. Todd was an invalid; and it was arranged that I should be at hand the next day, when she was expected upon professional business-this in order that I might judge for myself as to the chance of getting any "stuff » from her.

I was well pleased to take the opportunity of visiting Mrs. Todd. I liked Mrs. Todd, and I was greatly flattered that she liked me; not that I deceived myself with the notion that there was anything very personal about that. Mrs. Todd combined, in a way I have noted as peculiarly Southern, the ability for free thought with a rooted conservatism; and despite all my inevitable modernity, what she liked about me was some appeal I made to her unreflective prejudices-the one in favor of Southerners, to begin with.

The door of her small flat was opened to me, after a period of probation, by Mrs. Todd herself-Mrs. Todd in the clean, loose calico gown that was her usual wear.

« Araminta did n't seem disposed to let you in, so I came myself,» she panted-she was fat and short of breath. « Araminta is uncommonly hard on us to-day-plaintively«I'm sure I don't know what we 've done.>>

By way of talk I asked if this was the same person-personage-as the Araminta of the month before-the name was a generic one with Mrs. Todd.

"Yes," she answered, seating herself in her arm-chair; «she has n't gone yet. Sue is out; she was very sorry, and told me to apologize

for her. She had to do something with that Russian princess who is knocking about here now. They have n't been gone ten minutes.» I was interrupting-«Oh, was she here? What is she like? I have a real curiosity about that woman.»

« Well, I have n't,» Mrs. Todd remarked dispassionately; «I don't think she's respectable, and I would n't meet her. I lay on my bed-it's the only place I can retire to-till they were gone. Poor Sue!» she added, with a pitying and humorous smile.

I knew the fine philosophy with which Mrs. Todd resigned herself to the fact that her daughter must know all sorts of people, and the yet finer poise with which she kept the choice of selection for herself, and I understood that exclamation and that smile. She had explained to me before that Sue liked to keep up the fiction, first of all to herself, that all her acquaintances were «lovely,» and her mother never, to her, expressed any serious disapprobation of any of them; she only refused to meet them.

«Did you know my son Jackson was here making us a visit?» the mother asked, after dismissing the daughter thus. «Yes; it does me good to see him, he's such a piece of the past-a perfect chunk of the old South. He does n't fit in a flat very well, and he nearly dies of Araminta, not because she won't wait on him, she certainly won't on anybody, but because he thinks she does-a white woman, my dear! He has n't any sense, but he 's very good and very smart, and as long as he can't get along at all anywhere, and might as well be in one place as another, why, it's a real comfort to me to hear him talk the ideas I was raised on. I don't know what's going to become of him. He don't believe in Sue working for a living; he objects strongly. He believes in woman being taken care of and protected. Poor Jackson! Sue 's trying to get him something to do. I'm sure I don't know what it will be. She and Dr. Parsons talk about a pull, and it seems if you can pull a pull it is n't necessary to do anything else. But Jackson is not lazy; he 's only helpless. Yes; Dr. Parsons ought to be here now. I wish she was n't coming at all. I hate women doctors, but it suits Sue's plans to have her. Oh, she 's nice enough, and she 'll look so prompt and businesslike when she gets here you'll think the sun is wrong about the hour. It's so tiresome to have that sort of affectation added to all the rest of our petticoat flummery.»>

But Dr. Parsons did not make her visit that day. Mr. Todd came in, however, before

I left, and I made his acquaintance. He was a tall, sallow young man, handsome in an oldfashioned way, his dark curls a little long and his face clean-shaven. It was noticeable that, despite the curls and the shaving, he escaped the look of an actor-escaped it as completely as did Henry Clay or any other lawyer of his day. This was the odder because his face had nothing of the shrewd strength that marks the man of affairs; it was like a copy of the old-time lawyer type done by a bad artist-smooth and weak, but with something of the original in it. He had fine dark eyes that most of the time seemed to look afar into space-and to see nothing. He wore, of course, a black frock-coat, and he carried, when he entered, a gray soft hat. He made me a bow and kissed his mother's hand. That lady looked equally pleased and amused by this tribute, and remarked to me

her manner suggested that her son was deaf-that she reckoned Jackson was the only man that would ever kiss her hand again in this world. Perhaps this is the place to state that she was a widow.

«Miss Addington 's been waiting a long time to see Dr. Parsons,» she said to her son.

He gave out a faint sound like a groan, and his mother brightened up and resettled herself as if to listen.

«Do you know this-this young lady? » he said to me.

I said I had come there to make her acquaintance; and with an amiable desire to further his mother's obvious intention and draw him out, I added that I was going to write something as to how a young woman arrives at a medical practice in New York.

«She arrives at the idea of practising such a profession through a miserable debasement of the idea of womanhood,» said Mr. Todd, solemnly, adding gently, «Do not think I make any personal reflection on--on Miss Parsons. I have not met the lady, but her acceptance in this household proves her right to that title.>>

«Does it? » murmured his mother. Her son was going on, saying:

«She is doubtless a victim-a victim as even my own sister is»-then quickly and emphatically-«though in a much less degree -much less-to the monstrous inversions of order and right that in the North»-«Nawth,» he called it are to-day called progress. My sister is imbued with these ideas that she don't understand; she defends her position as a breadwinner-a position that woman should never fill.»>

Even Mrs. Todd found this not altogether amusing; an odd, troubled look crossed her

face, and I imagined I knew the kind of conversation in which poor, pleasant, good little Sue tried to be clever to keep from being frank, as frankness must suggest a question as to why this helpless brother did not support her.

«My sister is of course in no such position as Miss Parsons»-Mr. Todd was talking on, unconscious of us except as having ears into which true doctrine might be poured. «Miss Parsons may escape the worst of the natural results of her position; she is the product of sounder conditions than now surround her; but I cannot-as a man who knows the world I feel-> He stopped, with a little slow shake of the head, looking far through the boot his crossed legs brought before him. His silence told what his chivalry forbade him to speak -that in his opinion Miss Parsons was, as it were, a peach that, however fine, had inevitably lost its bloom.

«As a true Southerner you feel this, Miss Addington, I know," he added, with the kindly intention of relieving me from any imputation of complicity with evil.

<<I think there is a great deal of truth in your views; but then, you see,» I went on rather flippantly, «I am not sure that Dr. Parsons is a peach. She may be just a common apple, with no bloom to lose.»>

I quite forgot for the instant that this valuable simile had not been actually brought out. But it was no matter, for Mr. Todd did not remember either that his thought had remained unspoken. He answered solemnly, if his remark could be called an answer:

« Woman's delicacy is the flower of creation-a flower all things should combine to

conserve.»

«Sue ought to be able to get away from her disreputable princess by this time,» said his mother, briskly; «she was going to help her with a list of people who are interested in the Crippled Babies' Hospital. The princess is going to give some amateur theatricals for it. Sue has done a great deal to make the crippled babies fashionable.»

Mr. Todd looked vaguely uncomfortable; he murmured something about womanly compassion.

"The princess is getting a fine social foothold,» said Mrs. Todd; «she knows just how to go to work.» Her blue eyes, still bright in her faded face, sparkled sweetly upon me.

«The Lord seems to cause several things besides the wrath of man to praise him,» I said; «but it's all too deep for me; it makes my head spin; your society is too stimulating-this was Mrs. Todd's frequent plea for seclusion.

"It does n't make Jackson's head spin. That 's the comfort about Jackson: his views are settled.» And his mother's eyes rested on him with affection-and other things.

"A thinking man should understand his reasons for the belief that is in him,» said Jackson, with gentle complacency, rising to open the door for me.

I accomplished my meeting with Dr. Parsons soon, and, in technical phrase, «got a story out of her»-not this one; it accumulated more slowly. It was true she was not a talker, but she did answer questions well. She was a large, buxom, fresh-colored, goodlooking young woman, well dressed and well poised, looking on the world through a pair of clear brown eyes that, as you looked into them, seemed peculiarly free from speculation; they saw your clothes and the tables and chairs-the very converse of Mr. Todd's dark, luminous orbs, that never with any distinctness saw the tables and chairs, but were apt to dilate with reflection that omitted consideration of most mundane furniture.

Mrs. Todd, that kindly but rather appallingly overlooking and philosophical humorist, took a notion, as Sue phrased it, to invite Dr. Parsons and me to meet at luncheon.

«Mama used to love to bring nice people together so much,» said the daughter; «and now she hardly ever is well enough to take an interest in company, so I was mighty pleased when she said she wanted you two to come; and she wants you while brother is with us.»>

Mrs. Todd was arranging a comedy for herself, and I might have disquieted myself as to what part I was to play; but I was content to let her cast it as she would, pleased to contribute blindly to her pleasure.

«How long is your brother to stay?» I asked idly.

Miss Todd's sunny face clouded a little. «Well, the truth is,» said she, «brother came on with an idea of remaining in New York. Things are so bad in the South, and he can't make the land we 've got pay at all. But I don't know, I'm sure-full stop; then: «< I've been trying to get him something to do under the city government, if it was only a very small position. I've got a cousin here that's a Tammany man with some influence, and Dr. Parsons has an uncle with a pull-she told you about being a Board of Health doctor one year. But we can't expect to get anything for him right away; things will have to work round to it, and brother talks some about going back home. I don't know how he can do that either.»

Miss Todd spoke the last sentence in a