The affair of Smolensko, bloody though it was, was a trifling skirmish compared with the terrible battle of the Borodino, excellently well described by Mr Rellstab. This was a profitless battle--nay, a disastrous one--to the victors, whose numerical loss rather exceeded that of the vanquished; and the Russians, little ruffled by their defeat, might almost have renewed the strife the following day, had it so pleased them. Another such victory would have been the ruin of the French. But it did not accord with Russian tactics to give them another chance. The invaders' doom awaited them there, where they anticipated safety and repose--in the ancient city of the Czars, imperial Moscow. The insignificant spoils of the action that had cost them so much blood, made it evident to the French host that the triumph was but nominal. What were a few hundred prisoners, and four-and-twenty guns, after such a tremendous day's slaughter? "It is the sun of Austerlitz!" Napoleon, with his accustomed clap-trap, had said upon the morning of the fight. Like that of Austerlitz, the sun set upon a victory; but how different in its results! "Let your descendants," said Napoleon, in one of his unrivalled and spirit-stirring proclamations, "make it their chief boast that their ancestors fought in that great battle before the walls of Moscow!" How few who shared in that day's perils and glories ever returned to their native land, to boast the exploits or bewail the mishaps of the most unfortunate campaign the world's military history can show! The action of the Borodino, claimed as a victory by the French, although in reality a drawn battle, inspired Napoleon's host with no feelings of exultation. The losses were too tremendous--the advantages too problematical. Still, the fight--or rather the voluntary retreat of the Russians during the following night--opened the road to Moscow, and this gave fresh spirits to the army: not that they rejoiced and triumphed at occupying the second capital of Russia, but because they well knew that Moscow was a further stage upon the only road by which they would be permitted to return to France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland--to all the eight or ten countries, in short, of whose inhabitants the armed multitude was made up. Moscow was to be their winter-quarters, their place of refuge, rest, and solace, after great hardships and sufferings. They of course expected they would have to fight for the city, but in this they did less than justice to Russian hospitality. They found the dwelling swept, the fires laid, and all ready for lighting. Mr Rellstab powerfully describes the aspect of the deserted city, when entered by Murat at the head of his cavalry.