His presence of mind did not desert him, but he shouted into the depth of the wood, with a strong voice, "Fourth squadron, advance!" The enemy stopped short-drew back--and left him time to bury himself deeper in the thicket.

The pain of his wound was violent,-his strength began to fail, and all hope of escape was nearly extinguished. He heard from time to time the enemy still in pursuit, who were exploring the wood at no great distance from him.. He afterwards fell asleep,and, upon awaking next morning, found two peasants standing beside him, who proffered their assistance. For this timely succour, he was indebted to certain of his comrades, who, while making their escape through the wood on the preceding night, had discovered the two countrymen by a watch-fire. These men, being interrogated by Lützow's horsemen as to their principles, were considered deserving of confidence, and were requested to assist in the removal of a wounded officer, who had plunged into the depths of the forest, and would certainly requite their services. They succeeded in discovering Körner; he was already reduced to utter weakness from loss of blood. His deliverers procured him strengthening cordials, and secretly conveyed him to the village of Great Zschocker through bye-paths, although it was occupied by a detachment of the enemy. A country surgeon of considerable ability bound up his wounds, and several of the inhabitants of the village who were well-affected towards the German cause, rendered every assistance in their power; nor was there a single traitor found among them, although the artillery of the enemy, who were in pursuit of Körner, and knew that he had with him a valuable money-chest, belonging to Lützow's free corps, were not sparing of either threats or promises. From Great Zschocker he wrote to a friend at Leipsic, who, with the most ready zeal, undertook to arrange every thing that could ensure his safety.

Leipsic was at that time under the French yoke, and it was prohibited under a menace of severe punishment to harbour any of Lützow's cavalry. But Körner's friends were not to be intimidated by any danger. One of them was the owner of a garden, from which there was a communication with Great Zschocker, partly by water, and partly by a foot-path, which was very little known, and led immediately to the back-gate of the garden. This circumstance was taken advantage of, and Körner was thus introduced, secretly and in disguise, into the suburbs of Leipsic. He was thus also enabled to save the chest of money, which had been -committed to his care, and which was re-conveyed to the corps after the battle of Leipsic. Safe from discovery, he here received the necessary surgical assistance, and, after a confinement of five days, became sufficiently recovered to quit the town, and relieve himself from the painful anxiety which he endured, on account of those friends who had ventured to do so much in his behalf.

The state of his wounds, allowing him to make only short stages every day, increased the danger of discovery, in a country which swarmed with hostile troops. Under existing circumstances, Carlsbad appeared the most eligible place of refuge. Körner had reason to expect a kind reception there; and a mode of conveyance was soon procured, which allowed him a sufficient number of resting-places on the road, and security during his journey. At Carlsbad, Mrs. Eliza Von Der Recke, wife to the chamberlain of that name, attended him like a mother; while Counsellor Sulzer of Ronneburg, fully supplied the place of physician, in healing his wounds, which had been much irritated by the fatigues of travelling. In the course of a fortnight, he was able to leave Carlsbad and cross Silesia to Berlin, where he had to make the necessary arrangements for returning to the station he had left before the termination of the armistice.

Being completely cured, and equipped once more, he rejoined his brothers-in-arms. Lützow's free-corps, with the Russo-German and Hanseatic legions, and some English auxiliaries, under General Von Wallmoden, were at this time stationed on the right bank of the Elbe, above Hamburgh. Davoust, who was quartered in that city with a considerable force, which had also received additional reinforcements from the Danes, was threatening all North Germany. On the 17th of August hostilities were renewed; and Lützow's corps, which was employed on the out-posts, was almost daily in action. It was in the bivouack-hut at Büchen, on the Steckenitz, that he began, on that day, to compose the war song "Men and Boys;" which commences with the words "The nation rises, and the storm breaks forth."

Major Von Lützow appointed the 28th of August for an attack which he intended to make on the rear of the enemy. In the evening, he reached a place where some provisions had been cooked for the use of the French. With these the troops refreshed themselves, and then continued their march to a forest, not far from Rosenberg; there they secreted themselves, while waiting for a messenger, who was to bring information respecting some short paths leading to a camp of the enemy, pitched at the distance of about one German anile, which was badly defended, and upon which they meditated an attack. In the mean time, some Cossacks, who were stationed upon an eminence for the purpose of spying, saw, about seven o'clock in the morning, a transport of ammunition and provisions approaching, convoyed by two companies of infantry: these they resolved to intercept, and succeeded. Major Von Lützow ordered the Cossacks, who consisted of a hundred mounted men, to make the attack in front; chose one half squadron to fall upon the enemy in flank, and kept the other half inactive, who were to cover his rear. He himself led on the party who were to attack the flanks, Körner, as adjutant, riding beside him. An hour before this, while

they halted in the forest, Korner composed his "Sword-song," the last poem he ever wrote. In the glimmering dawn of the morning of the 26th of August, he noted it down in his pocket-book, and was reading it out to a friend, when the signal for the onset was given.

The engagement took place on the road which leads from Gadebusch to Schwerin, near a wood, which lies about half a mile to the west of Rosenberg. The enemy were more numerous than had been expected; but fled, after a short resistance, over a narrow plain into a neighbouring thicket, as the Cossacks had not been sufficiently expeditious to prevent them. Among those who were most brisk in the pursuit was Körner; and there he met that glorious death, which he had often anticipated in his poems with so much animation.

The sharp-shooters, who had formed an ambush in the underwood, poured from thence a heavy shower of balls upon the cavalry who were in pursuit. One of these, after first passing through his horse's neck, hit Körner in the belly, traversed his liver and spine, and deprived him at once of speech and consciousness. His features remained unaltered, and exhibited no traces of any painful sensation. Nothing was omitted which could possibly have tended to restore him; but all was in vain. His friends carefully raised him from the ground. One of those who, while a continual fire was directed to this particular point, had hastened to his assistance, was Friesen; justly accounted one of the most brave, highminded, and accomplished youths, that had taken part in this warfare. He followed Körner to the grave about half a year after. The combat, which, after this universal loss, was carried on in the most infuriate manner, was soon over. Lützow's cavalry bore down upon the enemy, who were among the brushwood; and those who could not effect their escape, were shot, cut down, or taken prisoners. The victims of this day's conflict merited a suitable interment: these were, in addition to Körner, Count Hardenberg, a promising and very prepossessing young man, and one of Lützow's yagers. The mortal remains of the three fallen heroes were laid upon waggons, and conducted along, together with the prisoners, with that which is denominated the "transport-column."

Körner was interred under an oak, near a mile-stone, situate upon the way which leads from Lübelow to Dreikrug, not far from the village of Wöbbelin, which is about a German mile distant from Ludwigslust. He was consigned to the earth by his brothersin-arms, with the honours of war. Among the friends who joined to spread the turf upon his grave was Von Bärenhorst, a noble youth, of the most varied accomplishments: a few days after, he was allotted a dangerous post at the battle on the Göhrde. With the words, "Körner, I follow thee!" he rushed upon the enemy, and fell, pierced by many balls.

The ground contiguous to the oak, together with a circular space which surrounds it, was presented to Körner's father by a German prince, his Serene Highness the reigning Duke of MecklenburgSchwerin. The grave is encompassed by a wall, is planted, and distinguished by a monument of cast-iron. There also repose the mortal remains of the sister of the deceased, Emma Sophia Louisa: a silent grief for the loss of her beloved brother consumed her vital powers, and allowed her only life sufficient for finishing a portrait of him, and making a drawing of his grave.

REMARKS ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF UGO FOSCOLO.

WITH the utmost deference for the high authority of the Schlegels, we adhere to the opinions of Gibbon and Voltaire—that we are indebted to Italy for the preservation of literature and the fine arts through the barbarism and darkness of the middle ages. Tender as we would willingly be thought of the reputation of the Huns and Goths, and of those important and beneficial political consequences which attended their tempestuous career, we cannot persuade ourselves that respect for the monuments of art, and the works of science and of learning, entered into their views of conquest and spoil. If it be to Italy, then, that we owe the preservation, we are doubly indebted to her for the revival of that spirit of literature, which has not only enlightened the nations of Europe, but still continues, with increasing power, to extend its influence over the remote regions of the earth.

When we reflect how much the literary character of our own country has thus been moulded upon that of Italy, it will appear not a little strange, that the knowledge and admiration displayed by our early English poets for the revivers of learning in Italy, should afterwards have sunk into indifference and contempt, and finally become nearly extinct. But Italy has at last resumed her former intellectual ascendancy, and the honours due to her genius in the estimation of surrounding nations; nor do her living offspring forfeit the high character, the pride and rich inheritance of their fathers. The names of Canova, Parini, Monti, and Ugo Foscolo, are worthy to live in the recollections of a future age, like some of their great predecessors in our own.

Parini is represented as the intimate friend of Ugo Foscolo, who describes their interviews in early life, and conversations, expressive of the indignant opinions and feelings of youthful patriotism on the oppressed condition of their country; and then, with the warmth and enthusiasm of a poetic spirit, he proceeds to blend his own existence and adventures with the history of a partly real and imaginary character. Such is the origin of "Le Ultime Lettere

di Jacopo Ortis;" but how far he has in fact identified himself with the feelings and fortunes of his hero, is to be gathered, in part, from his own prefatory avowal, and in part from what is known or rumoured respecting his singular and adventurous life-no less chequered and uncertain, nor less interesting, than that of the wild and eccentric Alfieri. Like him, in the ebullition of youth, he professed strong political opinions, though born under a despotic government, that of Venice,-like him too, he abandoned it in despair, to seek for peace and freedom in a foreign clime.

It is surprising how few notices we have received of such characters until within these last few years. As one cause of our limited information, we may almost regret the absence of that egotism and literary vanity in the character of Foscolo, which, in most instances, would have been happy to put us in possession of whatever biographical memoir and private anecdote they could afford. Far from this being one of the enviable qualities of Signor Foscolo, he evinces, what we really think he in part feels, an indifference and contempt for that self-praise and complacency often so lavishly indulged by authors, in the presence, and at the expense, of their best friends. It is the only subject, perhaps, upon which our author appears incapable of being either eloquent or amusing, though one upon which he might not be ashamed to dwell. In conversation, however, he has more disinterested, if not nobler, game in view-enlightened criticism, and high views of nature and of art; all which he pursues and hunts down with the avidity and keenness of a sportsman, and the quarry generally repays his toils. Upon questions of general and disinterested import, connected with politics or with letters-upon themes of greatness and of worth, and of a national and social character, he is at once lively, impassioned, and profound. His language, his native tongue, abounds in strength of thought, richness of imagery, and the expression of a gifted and cultivated mind. It is rendered more impressive by the tone of earnestness and sincerity in which his opinions are conveyed. Foscolo's conversation has all the electrifying power of originality. When he is deeply engaged in an argument worthy of his powers and feelings, he seems originality personified-the flashes of his eye denote the quickness of his intellect, and the quivering of his lip betrays that of his sensibility.

Foscolo has an equal and sustained power of mind, and a solidity of thought and feeling. In his orations, his novels, his miscellaneous essays, and his tragedies, the same spirit of life and power is every where manifest-a boldness and strength of hand, a depth and contrast of light and shade, mingled with a truth of outline in all his touches, which perhaps leaves too little room for the ornament and colouring of the imagination. In this he resembles Alfieri, in whom passion and profound thought absorbed the finer qualities of his genius, and, indeed, the whole poetry of his nature;