the counsels and hints of a spy like Regnier, though stupidity of this kind was all but criminal. But it was inexcusable, in our opinion, that in his negotiations with the German chiefs, he plainly let them perceive his view, that France could no longer continue the war, and that his own army was already powerless; and it was a breach of duty, of the very gravest kind, even on the assumption that Napoleon III. was still de jure the sovereign of France, and that the de facto government was a mere shadow, to intimate to them that the force at Metz might be employed, practically, under their command, as an instrument to restore order. We quote a few words from a confidential minute to an aide-de-camp, which, we regret to say, proves that he was taking a wholly mistaken course, and cannot in any way be justified: "The military question has been decided; the German armies are victorious; and the King of Prussia cannot set much value on the barren triumph of dissolving the only army which, at this crisis, can put down anarchy in our unhappy country. The French army (at Metz) would be able to restore order, and could protect society. . . . By its action it would give Prussia pledges for the demands which she may be entitled to make on the present occasion."

When these lines were written, the Army of the Rhine was still 150,000 strong; it had not been really beaten in the field; and it was still a well-organised, nay, a splendid force. It was shameful, therefore, that its commander should represent it to be a mere nullity; and should offer it, as it were, to its foes as a victim, while its courage and power were still unbroken. "Come take our arms," was the Spartan's reply to the summons of the vast Persian hosts; "We give you up our arms," was the speech of Bazaine to an enemy scarcely victorious as yet; and history will certainly point the moral. As for the proposal that the army at Metz should be made use of "to re-establish order," must not its chief have guessed that this, very probably, would be to kindle a civil war in France, and to employ against her people the very instrument entrusted to him to oppose its enemies. Nor was even this gross betrayal of his trust the only criminal act of the Marshal; his political intrigues, it is but too evident, determined his conduct as a commander, and paralysed his operations at Metz. His first duty to France and his troops was to endeavour to force the lines of investment, for his army was the one hope of the country, and its fate was certain should it remain inactive; yet, after his one half-hearted sortie, he made not even an attempt of this kind; a few demonstrations, not worth noticing, were the only signs he gave of the life of the still magnificent army in his

hands; and a force, which might still have done mighty deeds, was literally allowed "to rot in obstruction." Let it not be said, as Bazaine asserts, that the effort would have been "criminal folly;" that the German lines had become impregnable; and that, in any event, had his army broken through, it must have been pursued and destroyed by the enemy. Such observations are mere drivelling; had he harassed the Germans by constant attacks, and steadily constructed counter-approaches; had he turned to account the immense advantages he possessed in the possession of Metz, and by the occupation of the course of the Moselle, it stands to reason that he would have succeeded in carrying the besieger's works at some points, and perhaps in winning a great pitched battle. As for the supposition that if his army had once made good its way out of Metz, it would have been followed and utterly ruined, this is assuming a power of marching and of concentration by a divided enemy-distributed over a vast circumferencewhich never has yet been seen in war; and it may be confidently said that the assumption is false. On the whole, we entirely concur in the view of a competent critic on this subject: "What ought to have been done, was to make great and repeated sorties, to give the enemy no rest, in a word to wear him out, and render the investment impossible. By steadily continuing these operations, the Marshal would not only have set himself free, but, with a little intelligence and skill, might have assumed the offensive against Prince Frederick Charles, and made him suffer for the rash enterprise of attempting, with an army of 200,000 men, to invest another of 150,000 in an entrenched camp." And as for what was the duty of a Marshal of France in such circumstances, we may quote Napoleon: "What is a general to do if he is hemmed in by superior forces? We can make no answer but that of Horace. In an extraordinary situation, extraordinary resolution is needed; the firmer the resistance shown, the greater will be the chance to obtain aid, and to cut a way through. This question, we think, admits of no other solution, without ruining the spirit of a nation and leading to terrible disasters." Bazaine, therefore, was greatly to blame for not endeavouring to break out from Metz, and for not making an active defence. Yet even this does not nearly fill up what we must describe as the measure of his guilt. Granting, for the sake of argument, that he had not the power to carry by force the German lines, it was his bounden duty to hold out at Metz, and to maintain a passive defence to the last; and for this purpose he should have spared no effort to extract supplies from the adjoining district, and to husband these with the most economic forethought. A study of

the evidence convinces us that he neglected his trust in both these respects; more forage and food might have been procured, and what there was at Metz was not strictly cared for; and though it is, no doubt, an exaggeration to say that the place might have held out till Christmas, it surrendered, we think, three or four weeks before this would have become necessary under judicious management. This alone is enough to condemn Bazaine; and as we have pointed out, the terrible result was of inestimable value to the German chiefs, and absolutely fatal to the cause of France. As for the capitulation itself—that 173,000 men, with the support of a first-rate fortress, should have laid down their arms to 200,000 without even fighting a last battle-this is unparalleled in the annals of war; it is a stain on the martial renown of France, which not even all her glories can hide; and we shall not dwell on the unhappy subject. Our estimate, therefore, of Bazaine's conduct may be gathered from what we have already written. As a general-in-chief, he was throughout a failure, though not without some of the gifts of a soldier; but up to the fall of Napoleon III. we do not consider any of his acts criminal. From that time, however, he did not do his duty in three points of the first importance-his dealings with the enemy made his army useless, when it might have been employed with immense effect; his neglect to endeavour to break out from Metz was culpable in the highest degree; and his remissness in not defending the fortress, even passively, to the last moment, was a capital fault, which had fatal results. No doubt something may be said for him: his position, in the revolutionary state of France, was one of great, nay, of extreme difficulty; and in all that he did, and that he left undone, his lieutenants must share the blame with him. This, however, cannot excuse his conduct; in our opinion he was rightly condemned; and for our part he was, we think, fortunate in escaping the fate of Admiral Byng.

* His lieutenants would, we believe, have been justified in insisting on his changing his operations and in deposing him had he refused. This, however, would have been an extreme measure; but they are greatly to blame for their acquiescence in his conduct.

Then to thy confidential ear,
When tête-à-tête,

Would I narrate

A tender tale; nor ever fear
Irreverence for my spinster state;
For, mute and meek,

Thy courteous cheek

My own in sympathy would seek.

How can I fitly celebrate
That polished air,

That savoir faire ?

Let votive slab commemorate
A life adorned with virtues rare,
So all may see

My love for thee,

And, passing, whisper, "R. I. P."

COTSFORD DICK.