done no more than justice to his father, in the proud appreciations contained in his "Mémoires." Those who are incredulous respecting the wildly heroic deeds of the four Musketeers should read General Dermoncourt's account of how Dumas kept the bridge of Clausen single-handed, against the Austrians—an act which gained that hero the name of "the Horatius of the Tyrol"; or the story of that terrible night assault of the fort at Mont Cenis, when the General led three hundred soldiers up an ice-wall. "Every man who falls," said Dumas curtly, "must understand beforehand that he is a dead man,—that nothing can save him. It will be useless then to cry out—and by so doing he may give the alarm, and ruin our chances." Three men, so the son tells us, did fall; and their bodies dropped into the darkness, bounding from crag to crag. But not a cry was heard—not a moan—not a sigh!
When General Dumas's Republicanism brought him into conflict with Bonaparte's ever-increasing ambition, he turned his back on the Egyptian campaign, and set sail for France. Unhappily, the ship was obliged to put into Tarentum, and the Frenchmen were thrown into prison. The General's account of his struggle against the insidious manœuvres of his jailers, who tried to poison him with food and with medicine, is a terribly en-
