longer conspirators whom it had to judge: the question | Moreau on the subject. The General affected an apbecame a political one-and every body knows how pearance of carelessness, but defended himself badly; much, unfortunately, all judges are inclined to arrogate and when the Minister rendered an account of the interpolitical power. By the adroitness of the defence, the view to the First Consul, he received this singular reply: tribunal was led to pronounce between Moreau and his "All these stupid, underhand dealings weary and fasuccessful rival. tigue me. Were Moreau in my place I would be his first aid-de-camp. If he believes himself better suited than I am to govern-He govern!-Poor France! Let him come and dispute my power with me; but frankly, openly, tell him to be to-morrow at the Bois de Boulogne,* at seven o'clock. Our two swords will cut the difficulty."

The First Consul immediately perceived this situation of things: thus he spoke of the criminal tribunal, which from the beginning had shown great partiality for Moreau, as the dictatorship of the palace of justice; or rather, the dictatorship of M. Thuriot.

I have said that Moreau was as guilty as Pichegru. The Minister of Police, charged with such a commuThis statement requires some explanation. Moreau nication, called again on Moreau, and persuaded him was as guilty, but in a different way; and the nature of without much difficulty that it was not to the Bois de his guilt was such as to explain, to justify to a certain Boulogne that he should go the next morning, but to the point, the sort of favor which was manifested towards Tuileries, to the levée of the First Consul. Moreau him. The ambitious schemes of the First Consul had went accordingly-and Bonaparte, notified in the course already begun to show themselves; he was already of the night, received him with marked kindness, and Consul for life. The word Emperor had not yet been without saying a word on the subject of their differpronounced, but it was murmured every where. Piche-ences. Bonaparte hoped to the very last moment to gru had bargained with the Bourbons-he had taken reconcile him by kindness; but Moreau, proud and inhis guarantees he worked openly for them. Moreau, | tractable, constantly repelled his advances. He saw in on the contrary, agreeing to the conspiracy, said, “Do the First Consul the usurper of a power which ought what you please with Bonaparte, but never speak to to have belonged to him. me of the Bourbons: I will have nothing to do with them.” Moreau probably wished to await the event for the purpose of profiting by it himself. There had existed between himself and Bonaparte,—a war of man against man, of general against general,-a rivalry of ambition. This is the whole secret of the matter.

It is easy to understand, then, that in the face of the ambitious schemes of Napoleon, Moreau, represented as the last of the Romans,-as the defender of the expiring republic,-would necessarily obtain the favor and support of all the devoted friends of republicanism remaining in France-that is to say, in the army, of all whom the genius of Napoleon had not yet fascinated— who had neither made the campaigns of Italy nor those of Egypt; in the civil service, of all whom past circumstances had attached to the existing order of things, and who had reason to fear a change; and, finally, of all who were honestly republicans. The nation was thus broken into two parts, represented even in the bosom of the tribunal.

The same disinclination to the Bourbons which ren

dered Moreau hostile to the schemes of Pichegru, who was their slave, still influenced him when he left America in 1812, and when in 1813 he proceeded to the camp of the Allies to draw up a plan for the invasion of France. He was as little in favor of the Bourbons

When Moreau, denounced by Roland, the friend of Pichegru, was arrested and conducted to the Temple, the First Consul, charging the chief judge to examine him, gave him his first instructions in these terms:

"In the first place, see if Moreau wishes to speak to me; in that case, take him in your carriage, and bring him here: let every thing be concluded between us two." Moreau preferred to be silent.

THE ART OF WAR.

On Moreau's first visit, after his fine retreat through the Black Forest, to General Bonaparte, then recently returned from his first campaign in Italy, concluded with so much honor by the treaty of Campo-Formio, a very interesting conversation on the art of war occurred between the two Generals. Moreau, while receiving the compliments of General Bonaparte, rather excused himself for having been obliged to fall back before an enemy superior in numbers to his own forces.

"What would you have?” replied Bonaparte. “Our troops are too much divided; and, in the end, victory must always remain with the most numerous battalions." "It is a principle substantially true; but you have in 1913 as in 1804: he detested them. The proof of proved by your campaign in Italy that it is not of unithese sentiments was found in a letter from his wife in-versal application. Have we not often seen inferiority tercepted in 1813. She urged him to adopt their cause. in numbers amply balanced by the bravery, the expeIt is evident from this, that it was not their cause which rience, the discipline, and, above all, by the talents of he desired to serve.

the chief?"

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"Yes, in a single battle; but rarely in a war."

"Then you reduce the art of war to a single and very simple game; the only object will be to raise more troops than the enemy. If this be true, of what use are tactics and strategy, and the various expedients devised for counteracting superior numbers ?"

Moreau was the personal enemy and rival of Bonaparte. The First Consul had cause to be convinced of the fact some time before, on the publication of a sort of pamphlet, printed in the form of a posting bill, in Brittanny, and addressed to all general officers and commanders of corps. Very few copies of this piece reached their address: there was one, however, which came to the hands of General Rapatel, a former aid-de-camp of Moreau, and his friend. The First Consul instructed the Minister of his Police to have a conference with Paris.

"Let us understand each other," replied Bonaparte. "I am far from contending that, with an army inferior

A celebrated duelling ground just beyond the barriers of

in number, one may not obtain victories over a stronger and to present more force there than the enemy can opforce. These victories will be due to the valor and dis- pose to you. This is the secret of a great captain; it cipline of the troops, to the devotion of the officers, and is the genius of war. To crush a weaker enemy-to perhaps to the genius of the general. If these victories disperse bands of undisciplined plunderers, is not an be decisive, one may gather the honors of a campaign; art—it is hardly a trade; but, with a small army, to but if the war is prolonged, if it lasts many years, the present to an enemy a force always superior at the smaller number will infallibly succumb to the greater. point which he wishes, or is forced to attack, is an evi"Every change in the system of war gives an advan-dence of genius, and is that which constitutes a general. tage to him who is the first to put it in practice. Fre- "Frederick made war a science-we have made it an derick triumphed over all his enemies, because he car-art; it is no longer a calculation—it is a work of genius. ried into the contest a new system of warfare; because he opposed to the irregular order of battle of his predecessors his rigorously calculated tactics—to their imperfect, his perfect organization-his powerful discipline to the disorder of their armies.

"And with it battles may be gained. One may triumph during four, six, eight campaigns; but if really inferior in number, he must be conquered in the end, because victories exhaust the strength of an army more slowly, but as certainly as defeats themselves.

"A nation is conquered whenever it suffers itself to be invaded at home. A people who submit to be invaded are destitute of courage. There is no power in the world sufficient to invade a people determined not to be invaded."

"We have beaten the school of Frederick, because we also have created a system; to his methodical strategy, to his tactics, of which all the movements were foreseen, we have opposed rapid marches and surprises. In the first wars of the republic, we had to deal with generals of the school of Frederick. They waited until their plans were all matured before commencing a campaign: they never began to march until they had studied and calculated at length every possible accident from the nature of the ground. All their "What must one think," said Pitt to M. Otto, "of a movements were traced out before-hand—they regu-government always at the mercy of a blow from a lated ours in the same way.

"If they gave battle, it was on their part a mathematical problem, resolved on paper, and which they came to apply on the field.

"To these calculations what did we oppose?-our new system. The enemy had regulated our movements by our depots of provisions: according to him we ought to arrive on a given day on the ground which he selected; but we passed three depots in a day, and he encountered us three days sooner than he expected, and on ground he had not studied.

"These learned generals accept the battle which we offer them-regulate their lines, their reserve-take all the precautions that the science of war can indicate; it happens that a colonel of huzzars, desirous of the embroidery of a general, seizes advantage of a wavering in the execution of a manœuvre, to throw himself with six or seven hundred horse on a point at which he perceived some disorder, and effects a breach, the effects of which are felt to the very extremity of the lines. When such an occurrence took place, the enemy's generals were completely confounded: the movement had not been expected. It is in this way that they have lost ten battles against us. An Austrian general, taken prisoner in the campaign of Italy, said to some officers of our army-'I greatly prefer being a prisoner to continuing the war with you: there is no longer any thing settled; there is no more science; science is no longer acknowledged.'

"During our first wars this was not a system; it was the natural result of the patriotic ardor, of the enthusiasm of the young soldiers, of the young officers, of the young generals of the republic; experience only has worked it into a system; and to translate this system into words, one may say that, at this day, the art of war is the art of concentrating, on a given point, more force and in less time, than the enemy.

"The art of war is, then, to determine on a field of battle the point at which a decisive blow may be given,

dagger ?"

PITT AND FOX.

At the time that Pitt had the courage to speak this, England maintained the agents of the Infernal Machine in her pay. France owes to England the three debarcations of Biville, the arms and the money for the con spiracy of Georges, besides the succors in money, arms, and ammunition previously thrown into la Vendée. Pitt spoke in these terms of the French government, at a moment when a captain in the Royal British Navy was employed to transport and debark on the coast of France those who proposed to assassinate Bonaparte.

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Napoleon never had occasion to reply to Pitt; but he answered a man worthy of hearing him, when, speaking of England, he said to Mr. Fox, What must one think of a government which arms assassins against me?" Fox blushed for England.

Afterwards, when, about the year 1806, a person named Guillet, an old master of the Tennis Court of the Princes, went to see Mr. Fox, to propose to assassinate Napoleon, this distinguished man hastened to denounce him to the Minister of Foreign Relations, M. de Talleyrand. His letter was full of the indignation of an honest man, shocked at the proposal of such a crime. "The laws of England," said he, “do not allow me to treat this fellow as he merits. I can only drive him from England. I will find means, however, to detain him long enough for you to put yourself on your guard."

Guillet did not return to France. In 1809 he was taken in Germany, brought to Paris, and confined in the Bicetre. He had then the audacity to accuse Fox of having induced him to proceed to England for the purpose of employing him to assassinate Bonaparte.

Since the revolution of July, since civil war has desolated the Peninsula, a man apparently about sixty or sixty-five, presented himself at one of the bureaux of the division of general police, at the office of the Minister of the Interior, offering to perform any arduous

duty in Spain for example. This man, who declared | sister of Bonaparte was seated on the ground, holding his name to be Guillet, was badly received by the chief of the bureau, to whom he addressed himself. If he had been closely examined, if the name of Don Carlos had been pronounced, perhaps he would have offered to seize the person of this prince. Was not the Guillet

of 1834 the Guillet of 1806 ?

THE BARON F*****.

NOW A PEER OF FRANCE.

The Baron F***** is a man of talent, an admirable public officer, and a profound jurist. His capacity has been fully appreciated for thirty-five years, by all who have ever had business with him. On this point the Emperor frequently rendered him justice; he also acknowledged his honorable character and conduct, yet he never showed him the least favor-never bestowed on him one of those high offices-those offices of confidence, which he was so fond of conferring on members of his council of state. Master of Requests at the period of the creation of this council, the restoration found the Baron F***** still Master of Requests.

Under the empire, the title of Master of Requests was of some importance. Alexander Lameth, prefect of the department of the Po, with fifty thousand francs of salary, and one hundred thousand for the expenses of his establishment, was simply Master of Requests. Dupont Delporte, prefect of Parma, and nephew of the Duke of Bassano, was but a Master of Requests. M. de Chabrol, afterwards Minister of the Marine and of Finance, and, under the empire, Intendant General of Finance at Florence, and at a later period at Alexandria, was only Master of Requests; but at that period a Master of Requests might be called to any office. We have seen a simple Auditor to the Council of State, M. Taboureau, Intendant General of the Finances of Piedmont. Baron F***** is, perhaps, the only Master of Requests who has never done any thing but make reports to the Council of State.

I do not know whether the Baron knows even at this day the cause of the ill luck which has so long weighed on him, and which must have the more surprised him, as, at the beginning of the Consulate, he was received with extreme favor. If I have the honor to be read by him, and he still recollects and will call to his mind events of thirty-three years standing, he will recognize the cause in the circumstance I am about to mention.

her brother's head in her lap, and exerting herself in vain to restore him. All who were present formed themselves in a group around them. M. de F***** said in a low voice, We must inform Cambacérès instantly. At that moment Bonaparte came to himself; his eyes were not yet open, but he had heard the words pronounced, and recognized the voice of the speaker. A second afterwards, having completely regained his senses, he glanced his eyes furiously on the point in the group whence the words had proceeded, got into his caleche, and gave orders to depart immediately.

Ever afterwards, to the very period of his abdication, he had the strange weakness never to forgive M. de F***** for thinking, for an instant, that he could die.

A CONSPIRACY.

It is characteristic of ordinary minds, to believe, in matters of police, in the reports of agents. Fouché compared the honest functionaries, whom the public persists in calling informers, to coaches obliged to set off whether full or empty. An agent of the police finds it necessary to make a daily report in order to gain his pay, and to give evidence of his zeal. If he knows nothing, he invents; if, by accident, he discovers any thing, he hopes to render himself of more importance, by magnifying his subject. Agents are excellent for the purposes of safety, for assassins, robbers, and women of the town; but whenever they meddle with politics, their blunders are as numerous as their actions. Political police is, besides, more useless in France than in any other country; a Frenchman who engages in any conspiracy tells it to so many people, that it would be truly extraordinary if among the whole number of his confidants, he encounters no friend of the minister or of the prefect of police. The true political police with us is the police of politeness, the police of conversation and indiscretion. Never was the political police better regulated than under the empire; never were fewer agents employed, and yet, every day, Fouché filled two or three baskets with reports, which he never read.

Of all the governments that were ever fastened upon France, that of the Directory was unquestionably the most ridiculous. The Directors, with perhaps some exceptions, believed in the police as one believes in the Deity; and Gohier, one of the rulers of that day, was more credulous than all the rest. Had he lived in our The First Consul was riding out in the environs of time, it would have been for him that the conspiracy of Morfontaine; he was in a caleche, with his sister Eliza, the towers of Notre Dame would have been invented. afterwards Grand Duchess of Tuscany. His carriage The individuals charged with the police under the Diwas followed by two others, in which some of his aids-rectory were the same who were afterwards employed de-camp, and a few persons admitted to his intimacy, under the empire; they were intelligent and capable, were seated; among these was M. de F*****. Bonaparte had ordered some horses from the province of Limousin, which he was desirous of looking at, to be brought out at a convenient resting place. He was pleased with one of them, and mounted him, to try his gaits. A few minutes afterwards the horse made a violent start, and unsaddled his rider, who was thrown his head against a clump of trees.

The First Consul was senseless; for an instant he might have been thought dead; several persons were despatched in the greatest haste for assistance. The

and consequently perfectly incredulous; they fled from the soirees of the Directors, certain of perceiving on entering, the restless figure of Gohier, and hearing for the thousandth time the question-Is there any news? Have you any report to make to me? The answer was always in the negative, and the Director never took the trouble to conceal his disappointment.

M. Real, who then discharged the duties corresponding to those of our prefects of police, found himself one evening at the house of Fouché, at the moment that the minister was preparing to go to the Luxembourg.

Come with me, said Fouché; let us go to the Direc- | to a hat maker. At night, when the weather is clear, tory.

doubtedly to plot a conspiracy, spoke so low that he Of the Arrest and Condemnation of the Duke d'Enghien. was unable to hear any thing.

the people of Paris, and to M. Real himself, one of the chief that the Duke lived, apparently, very quietly at most important chiefs of police. Etteinheim, but that he had around him many emigrant general officers, one of whom was General Dumouriez, and an English Colonel.

There was in the affair of the Duke d'Enghien every thing that has been mentioned, except a guarantee of fered to the Jacobin party; to that party, unfortunately, Napoleon would never give any. There was certainly occasion for threatening reprisals against foreign powers; but there was anger and melancholy error at the bottom of this execution.

I am about to transcribe a version in which I implicitly believe. It appears to me in keeping with the circumstances, with the characters, and with the exigency of the moment; the facts are connected together in a natural way, and so far as I am informed, nothing tends to throw any doubt on its correctness.

The exposure of Georges' conspiracy, establishes the fact, that this bold chief had made one express condition indispensable to the execution of his plan—the presence at Paris of one of the princes of the royal family, which he wished to re-establish.

The officer of gendarmerie had either misunderstood what was told him, or he wrote very badly. The person whom he designated as General Dumouriez was M. de Thumery, and the pretended English Colonel an equerry, employed as a huntsman in the service of the prince.

This fatal revelation, conforming so naturally to what was already known of the conspiraey, was a flash of light for the First Consul. The Duke d'Enghien was the prince expected. The presence near him of General Dumouriez, explained itself by the necessity of combining a plan for the invasion of France, to co-operate with the attempt of Georges and the insurrection of Pichegru; and lastly, the arrival of an English commissioner at the head quarters of the prince, was new and superabundant proof of the assistance promised by |England, and of its avowed participation.

It will be seen that the impressions produced by the

Georges, Cadoudal, the Messrs. Polignac, de Rivière, and many others, mentioned, in an intercepted corres-report of the officer of gendarmerie, made every thing pondence exhibited on the trial, that they had come from England to Paris to attack the First Consul with an open force. They announced that their troop was formed, and that they waited under arms a Bourbon to give the signal.

The conspirators thought the Count d'Artois was the prince who was to meet them; no evidence, no confession established this fact; and it was well known that under such circumstances it would have been difficult to move him; he had proved it so. But Georges strongly adhered to this idea; he wished that at the very instant the government should be destroyed in the person of its chief, a French prince should be ready to seize the authority, and surround himself with his partizans, and thus prevent the scattered limbs of the republic from again uniting themselves.

Who was the prince thus expected? The police searched with great activity to ascertain the person. It was known that the Count de Provence, Louis XVIII, was in Poland with the Duke d'Angouleme; that the Count d'Artois, the Duke de Berri, and the Duke of Orleans were in England. It was known that all these princes lived in a retired manner, and that nothing about them gave any evidence of arrangements for an important movement.

assume a suspicious appearance, when, indeed, there was nothing but what might have been naturally accounted for in another way. A short time before a diplomatic effort had been made, at the court of the Elector of Bade, by M. de Caulaincourt, to obtain the removal of the Duke d'Enghien to a greater distance. The evasive answer of the Elector, and the well known suspicious character of his disposition towards the French government, coincided with the pretended hostile attitude of the prince. The house of Etteinheim thus became a place of head quarters, and the equerry, transformed into a colonel, a commissioner of the English government.

Bonaparte, generally difficult to be persuaded, seized on any idea the more quickly from the very fact of its not having been suggested to him. In such cases nothing could shake his convictions: he even carefully avoided all who might, by giving him information, alter his determinations. The reading of the report irritated him extremely: he saw in it all the extent and ramifr cation of the conspiracy. His course was instantly taken: a few hours afterwards his orders were given; from that moment the sentence of death was pronounced against the Duke d'Enghien.

His mind had become so gloomy, that the First ConWhile these things were going on, General Moncey, sul was for several days almost inaccessible. Escaping inspector general of gendarmerie, communicated to the for a moment from these reflections, he would utter a First Consul a report which had been addressed to him few angry and menacing words. In one of these fits of by an officer of gendarmerie, charged with the duty of passion, Cambaceres caught the word Bourbon; then, secretly reconnoitering the environs of Etteinheim, the and only at that time, and without at all thinking of the residence of the Duke d'Enghien. The police, what- Duke d'Enghien, he thought he might risk an observaever may be said, was perfectly acquainted with the tion. He mentioned that, in the event of any prince of residence of this prince, at four leagues from the fron- the dethroned family being seized in France, it would tier of France; it observed him attentively, following be well to treat him with indulgence-citing in support all his movements, yet without disturbing him; it even of his position the principles of the law of nations-he allowed him to come, in secret, to the theatre at Stras-quoted Blackstone, who declared that the efforts of a bourg; the Duke d'Enghien annoyed, would have been a more dangerous character in their eyes. Misfortune would have it, that in this deplorable affair, the First Consul, from some, I know not what sentiment of distrust, put the police entirely aside. A word from M. Real would have explained every thing.

dispossessed prince to reconquer what he had lost could only be punished by exile.

"Do you think then, sir," cried Bonaparte, "that I will suffer myself to be assassinated like a dog? that I will not throw back upon others the terrors with which they wish to surround my life? No, no; I will strike In his report the officer of gendarmerie informed his a blow that shall make them all tremble."