common soldier, got into a small boat with a single attendant and a rower, and was rowed along the fortress, in quest of the best place to assault. The Turks fired upon them; the attendant was killed; but the king, without a symptom of alarm, continued his exploration of the walls.

During the siege of Vienna the king entered the town in disguise, and after strolling about, sat for a long time as though to rest. Suddenly it was rumoured that Mathias was within the walls, and he was everywhere sought. The report reached him. Without discovering any alarm, he took a wheel, in which was a broken spoke, and rolling it before him, walked along the street, passed out at the gate, and returned to his camp. When Vienna was taken, the Hungarians, in commemoration of his disguise, danger, and escape, caused his image to be carved in stone, and set it up in the place where he had so long sat and rested.

A Turkish ambassador boasted that he had by his eloquence swayed at his pleasure every prince to whom he had been sent, and that even so would he manage King Mathias. Mathias was informed of the vaunt, and ordered Neustadt, which he was then besieging, to be stormed upon the day appointed for the Turk's audience. He led him to the scene of action, received his communication amidst a shower of balls and arrows, answered upon the instant, and dismissed him. The envoy was so amazed and bewildered that he entirely forgot the king's answer.

In vain did he beseech its repetition. Mathias gave him a letter to Bajazet, in which he requested the Sultan to send him in future men who were capable of noting a message.

At Visregrad he once received a Turkish envoy in full regal state, and looked at him so formidably that the diplomatist altogether forgot his errand, and could say nothing more than "The emperor greets, the emperor greets." Thereupon the king turned to his court and said: "See what beasts are suffered, by our own fault, to ravage our lands and those of other princes!" Then followed the proclamation of a Turkish war, and the Moslem was sent home.

During the Bohemian war, a person accosted Mathias Corvinus, and undertook to slay King George by the sword, in consideration of a reward of 5000 ducats. Mathias promised him the reward, but the man presently saw that the thing was impracticable. He returned to Mathias, confessed that he found it impossible to kill King Podiebrad by the sword, but offered to poison him. Mathias forbade him, saying: "The Roman Fabricius warned his enemy Pyrrhus against poison." And he forthwith sent to admonish King George to have his food tasted, as he was in danger of being poisoned.

There came to Buda a stout combatant, named Holubar, of marvellous size and strength, who was reputed invincible in tournament. The king, excited by his fame, challenged him. Holubar declined the proposed tilting match; but Mathias defied him a

second time. Holubar then accepted the challenge, resolving to yield to the king's least blow, and let himself be unhorsed. This was reported to Mathias, who compelled Holubar to take an oath that he would fight with him (the king) as with his worst enemy. Many thousand men witnessed the

tournament. The two combatants ran at each other; Holubar, struck on the head, and borne backwards off his horse, lay swooning on the ground with a broken arm. The king, struck on the breast by his antagonist's spear, fell sideways out of the saddle, but held himself on by the horse's mane. Mathias caused Holubar to be well leeched, and upon his recovery bestowed rich garments and much money upon him.

REVIEW OF NAPOLEON'S IMPERIAL
GUARD.

As the clock struck twelve, there arose from the different corps of the Guard, which some time before had taken position in the court of the Tuileries, a loud murmur of expectation, succeeded by a profound silence. The rattling of a scabbard and the clinking of spurs, as the booted heel came down upon the marble floor of the peristyle, was heard, and the next

moment a little man in a green uniform, the modest epaulettes of a colonel on his shoulders, a plain chapeau on his head, the signs of the Legion of Honour and the crown of iron, the only ornaments on his breast, stepped forth. He paused and made a gesture with his hand, and in a few seconds a group of officers in splendid uniforms, with their hats in their hands, surrounded him. The drums then beat the salute; a single command, like an echo, rolled from officer to officer the whole length of the line, and with a clattering sound, the entire army, as if it had been one man, presented arms—the colours in one vast cloud stooped towards that little man in green uniform, and then the cry of "Vive l'Empereur !" rolled like thunder to the heavens.

Napoleon then mounted his favourite horse Marengo, whose head was always in motion, as if impatient, like his master, to be off on a gallop, and rode along the lines. Just as he was about to pass into the ranks, a young man, seventeen or eighteen years of age, rushed out of the multitude and ran towards him, shaking a paper, which he held in his hand, above his head. Paying no heed to the repeated order of "Back, back,” he was pushing on, when a grenadier seized him by the collar, and forced him towards the spectators. But he still shook his paper, and cried out over the noise of the multitude: "Sire, sire!" to the emperor. The latter said coldly: "Let the young man approach."

The grenadier immediately released him, and, pre

senting arms, stood like a statue. The young man sprang forward, and fell at the feet of Marengo.

"What do you want?" said Napoleon, as he stooped in his saddle to take the paper.

The poor petitioner said nothing, but looked beseechingly at the emperor, while the tear rolled down his cheeks.

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Napoleon tore off the envelope, and casting his eye over the petition, said to the young man : Arise; to none but God should you kneel; from what I see, your mother has never left Paris."

There was no reply, and casting his eye again on the paper, he said in a low voice: "I have been deceived respecting this woman, who, I was told, had emigrated, and then mixed herself up in political intrigues. There was nothing in it." Then raising his voice, he added: "My young friend, tell your mother that from this moment she has a pension of twelve hundred francs from my own purse."

Overwhelmed by this sudden elevation from the depths of despair, the poor youth stood a moment, while the hue of death crept over his features, his eyes closed, and sinking on his knees, he pitched forward, his head striking heavily against the legs of Marengo as he fell. The frighted steed reared bolt upright, and but for an aide-de-camp, who seized him by the bridle, would doubtless have flung his imperial rider. A cry of terror rose from the multitude; but the next moment, as they saw him quietly dismount and advance towards the young man, there went up a