SIR ROBERT WILSON'S PRIVATE DIARY. * IN the spring of 1860

(June 2), the Spectator contained a notice of Sir Robert Wilson's admirable narrative of the Campaign of 1812. " The Diary now published traverses the period of the ' Invasion,' but extends beyond it through the campaigns of Germany, and the operations of the allied army in Italy—after Sir Robert Wilson joined Marshal Bellegarde at his head-quarters at Vicenza in January, 1814—down to the occupation of Paris by the forces of the Allies in the summer of the same year." But the Diary not only chronicles the events of war, but reports the incidents of travel which diversified the writer's progress in Spain, Sicily-, Turkey, Russia, Poland, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, and France. It contains, moreofer, in its several appendices, papers on the " site of Homer's Troy," and the topography of Mount Ida; a series of despatches to Lord Cathcart, and letters from the Duke of Gloucester, the Duke of Oldenberg, Prince Metternich, Prince Czartoryski, and Lord Aberdeen to Sir Robert Wilson ; a series of letters from himself to Lord Aberdeen ; and a despatch from Italy, addressed to Lord Castlereagh. " Throughout the whole time," says his appreciating editor, on whose Introduction we have largely drawn, "from his arrival at Constantinople in June, 1812, he was in close official communication, and intimate friendly * Private Diary of Travels, Personal &cries% and Public Events, from the Invasion of Russia to the Capture of Paris. By General Sir Robert Wilson, C.M.T.. &c. Edited by his nephew and son-in-law, the Bev ;Herbert Randolph, M.A. In two volumes. Published by Murray.

connection, with sovereigns and the commanders of their armies, or with their ministers and ambassadors ; in short, with almost every man of note and name who bore a part, military or diplo- matic, on the Continent of Europe, in the stirring events of those years."

The diary of a man who commanded such a field of view, and from such " a specular height," would be valuable, independently of the intrinsic and characteristic qualifications of the writer. But Sir Robert Wilson not only enjoyed opportunities for obser- vation and report, but a power to see and describe which is very uncommon. He has an actual personality ; a heroic self-con- fidence that even approaches self-commendation ; strong faith in his own previsions, and an amount of penetration and sagacity which most men might envy. Wilson's merits were acknowledged by Russians and Austrians alike. The Emperor of Russia con- ferred on him the Cross of St. George. Schwarzenberg told Lord Aberdeen that he would as soon part with Radetsky as with W n- oon ; and declared the success of the 16th October, 1813, at Leipsic, to be chiefly owing to the intelligence and able disposition of this officer. His military services, important as they were, seem, however, to have been surpassed by those which he rendered out of the field.

Among his various recommendations, we must not omit to mention his large and enlightened sympathy with political freedom and national advancement ; his classical scholarship ; his manly admiration of whatever is beautiful in art, or noble in life, and his high sense of duty. His literary faculty, too, is more than respectable. Had he devoted his talent to book-making, he would, perhaps, have attained eminence as an author. There are descriptions in his Diary which have great merit. An enviable force of expression and precision of emphasis show how well the soldier could handle the pen. He is observant, intelligent ; perspicuous, direct ; straightforward in his writings as in his life and actions.

His truthful and uncompromising spirit, however, was not ac- ceptable in high quarters. One Mentor entreated him to reject all sombre tints from his despatches, and " suppress what ill was not essentially necessary to be communicated, as this would be for his interest." Supported by Crowned Heads, and befriended by Lord Aberdeen Wilson was, it would appear, no favourite with Lord Castlereagh. We cannot undertake to go into the merits of the case. It is sufficient to say that a diplomatic appointment, in which Lord Burghersh was preferred to himself, was regarded by Wilson as an insult as well as an injury. Among his ill-wishers was Lord Cathcart, whom, he says, " I have now lived to see officially recognized as that non-entity which he wished to represent me." Occupying a central position, Wilson seems ever to have insisted on a thorough investigation of facts ; he wished to know the worst as well as the best, to enumerate weaknesses as well as resources ; to discover consequents in their remote antecedents. " Much," he says, after the autumn campaign of 1813, "is done ; more may be done ; but we shall all be undone if we do not investigate causes as well as effects." He continues—.

" If I were a member of a government, I would grapple to my friendship with hooks of steel, that man who could tell me, and would tell me only truth ; but I remember what old Lord Lansdowne always said to me, when he spoke about public life—' Never give a Minister counsel, and above all avoid unpleasing information. When you write it, you sign your sentence of excommunication. Agreeable fiction, will never be cited against you, except as patriotic and laughable errors of zeal. Unsatisfactory predic-

tions, when verified, will only create or aggravate and accelerate its effects.' "

Passing from the man to his book, we find in it, almost every element that could make a public diary attractive. Of course, looking at it in a mere literary point of view, we should be in- clined occasionally to compress or omit ; but regarding it as an authoritative, but extemporaneous record of events, or off-hand repository of observations, we consider it to be very nearly what the diary of an accomplished soldier, and an educated gentleman ought to be.

We shall not accompany Sir Robert Wilson to Greece, Spain, Turkey, or wander with him over the plain of Troy, or ascend with him Mount Ida, where the love couch of the Thunderer, so gloriously described in the Iliad, may be found to this day, much as he left it, covered with fragrant heaths, violets, hyacinths, and snowdrops. We leave the clime of the East unvisited ; Wilson's own pencillings by the way unexamined ; his adven- tures ; even his sword-fight with the long poisonous snake un- noticed; to press at once into the centre of the military opera- tions of 1812; first, however, extracting a whimsical passage re- lating to the " domesticities " of the Sultan of Turkey, on the death of Prince Murad. Remarking that as he had four wives al- ready pregnant, the loss of the Prince was not irreparable, Sir Robert Wilson resumes- " The principal dragoman having stated this fact before Mrs. Liston, she misunderstood him, and repeated Four wives petulant!"Pregnant, madam!' said the Ambassador. God bless me,' shrieked his excellency ; who could have thought that ? I am sure petulant was a more reasonable supposition. Four wives pregnant !' The phenomenon seemed to press upon her mind the whole evening ; and I shall expect shortly to hear of a visit to the seraglio."

On the 14th of August, 1812, Sir Robert Wilson arrived at Smolensk, a small, walled, uninteresting town, but " memorable for the union of Bagration's and Barclay's armies—a union that probably saved Russia." On the 27th of October, we find him at ougy, planting the first guns that saved the town, pushing them into short grape distance, and, after the first four rounds, break- ing the enemy's columns. The fight was desperate ; every man present was obliged to do, and appears to have done, his duty. One person only is accused by the Russians of being deficient in example—Kutosow. Marshal Kutosow, says the diarist, affords a memorable instance of incapacity in a chief, of an absence of any quality that ought to distinguish a commander. Although within five wersts of the action, from daybreak, he never had even the curiosity to appear in the field until five o'clock in the evening.

Bonaparte had now evacuated Moscow. Less than three weeks after, the army halted at Tchelkanovo, missing Poniatowski and his corps. Why they halted, says Sir Robert, the Marshal only knows. " This same halt," he continues, " enabled Bonaparte, with his guards, to reach Xrasnoi, and finally escape us at the single point at which we could intercept him. Why had Bona- parte this pont d'or ? The Marshal and the Devil only can tell."

The horrors of the retreat from Moscow are delineated with a few bold Dante-like touches in these pages. There is, first, the general mass of dead and dying men, with the mangled carcases of ten thousand horses, some of which had been cut for food be- fore life had ceased. Elsewhere, there are groups of men feeding on human flesh. Above, is an atmosphere of flame and smoke. The prayers of naked wretches, mingled with shouts of vengeance, echo through the woods, and ring through the sharp freezing air. In one place, Wilson saw a French woman, clothed in a chemise only, with black, long, dishevelled hair, sitting on the snow ; her late born child stolen from her ! In another place, he saw a num- ber of naked men, whose backs had been frozen while they warmed the front of their bodies, turn themselves to the burning embers of a hut, round which they sat, " when the fire caught the congealed flesh, and a hard burnt crust covered the whole of their bodies." The vengeance of the Russian peasantry was frightful. At Wiasma, fifty French, by a savage order, were burned alive. Elsewhere, Russian men and women were seen by Wilson, singing and leap- ing round sixty dying naked men, whose necks were laid upon a felled tree, striking out their brains with repeated blows of large faggot-sticks. The horrors of this military gehenna are heart- rending. The destruction of life was enormous. Out of 300,000 French troops which passed the Russian frontier, 153,000, accord- ing to Wilson's estimate, alone escaped. Russia, on the other hand, lost in this war about 110,000 men, killed, dead, and pri- soners. The loss of property to Russia was enormous: that of Moscow alone is computed at 25,000,0001.

Of the Russian people, Sir Robert speaks highly, lauding the self-sacrificing spirit of the nobility, and the attachment of the peasantry to their masters. It was from no despotic predilections that he praised this autocractic empire, for Wilson was a man of liberal politics. He admired the noble patriotism of the Russians. He equally did justice to the Polish people. The Poles, he re- marks, in one passage of the Diary, " deserve that reestablish ment in the list of nations for which they have so long struggled, and for which they will contend while they have a relation to bear arms." Of the Germans, he thought less highly, being of opinion that had " Bonaparte not adopted his continental system he might have ruled over very willing subjects in Germany." Sir Robert Wilson's views on Italy, where we find him in 1814, will be read with peculiar interest, at this the epoch of her re- generation. " The question of Italian independence engrossed all his thoughts and stimulated all his exertions. He thought it impossible to extinguish the national spirit : he predicted, that if Austria, tempted by the glare of the occasion, refused to recognize the political existence of the kingdom of Italy, by permitting an independent Government, or by putting the iron crown on her own head, she would rue and justly suffer the penalty of her avari- cious rage. He pronounced. Italy to be in rapid progress of na- tionalization, regarding Bonaparte as " a benefactor to this coun- try, not only in the formation of a military spirit, in the construc-

tion of roads, erection of public edifices, &c., but especially in the establishment of education." The Papal throne, on the other hand, he considered incompatible with Italian independence and freedom-

" Beware, he writes to Lord William Bentinck, how you extend its in- fluence and extol its benefits to mankind. You can never hope to make that Government philosophical or flexible to the times. Monarchs are sometimes young and generous, or old and timid ; but the veterans selected for the Papal chair are champions of the triple crown, whom philanthropy cannot persuade, and whom menaces cannot daunt."

Wilson, however, recognized the degeneracy of the Italian populations. He saw that they were not then among the nations that " know how to live." They made art the ambition instead of the ornament of a State. Hence he says, in his sharp, martial language, " I would rather see in this land manufactories and arsenals than painter's brushes and chisels." Sir Robert, how- ever, recognized the arts, in their true order of succession. At Vicenza, he went to the opera, and found it tolerable. The music, when the trumpet joined was, he says, exquisite. His description of the ballet we will give in his own words-

" The ballet is marvellous; a naked Pict would, I am sure, blush at the exhibition. The finest gauze, with a few silver spangles on it, alone covers any portion of the person. And, what portion ! One inch above the cein- ture, and six below. When in movement, and particularly in what is called, I believe, the Volta,' the whole collects into the breadth of a ribbon, and the Paphian Venuses, and Hottentot Venuses, and all descriptions of Venuses, are aimables a la nature."

When we think of the late-made mother, with her long black hair, screaming in the snow, and the men with the baked backs sitting before the fire, in that Hell-march from Moscow, we cannon regret that " Arms and the Man," are likely one day to give place to " Tools and the Man." Yet we rejoice that the Italians have learned to use their swords as well as their fiddlesticks, for how can there be a nation, where there are not men ? The noble en- jpyment of science and art depends on the right and might to antoy ; and only the Achilles-nation that can drive back the hattle, has the title or the power to sing heroic deeds on the weaoeful lyre. " Life," says our present authority, " is secondary to honour and duty in great men." We add—and in great na- tions.

These concluding extracts will serve as -illustrations of the opinions of a valuable public servant, a brave and skilful soldier, and a thoughtful and sagacious man-

VANITAS VANITATUII.

It is a strange world, Adam is reported to have said, when he entered into it; and so the last man will say Glory for me has lost all her charms. I shall become a Timon from contempt of the world's puppets. Happy are they who know not the arcane of the mechanism that conducts -the world's alliura ! Happy are they who never reason on causes or effects

NAPOLEON I.

The Parisians may tumble his statues from the columns of adoration, and justly reproach his arbitrary character and government, if they flatter themselves that they can lice free, but it is in vain for hatred to attempt the denial of his title to the characteristics of greatness. He may say with Basins-

" That I have lived, I leave those works behind, Shall pluck the shining age from vulgar time, And give it whole to late posterity."

His conception of the French empire, his conquest of every capital in Europe, are lofty memorials, but his intention to reestablish Poland, with the creation and nurture of the kingdom of Italy, are magnificent traits of policy and intelligence which will secure him immortality, and prevent his offences and faults from being dwelt upon by future generations. Yet, Sir Robert Wilson brings serious charges against Napoleon. He detested his grasping and unscrupulous ambition, and pro- nounces him what he is pretty well known to be, a fanfaron and egregious liar.

Here is a portrait of a friend which we cannot but recognize —

OHIC BULL.

John Bull is always honest John, but not wiser than before. Experience has the least influence on him of any of the moral powers of direction.