They are facts which ignorance and bad faith have taken pleasure to mutilate. To restore them impartially as they happened, is to labour for the interests of all.

To estimate a public character by the scale of the private individual is the great secret of forming false judgments; and this is what our age has the most need to defend itself against.

The executions ordained at Pavia, Leghorn, Arquata and in the Marches have been charged to me as crimes. These executions were imperatively commanded by circumstances and by the safety of the French army. Had I balanced, it was lost; there was no alternative. Had not that been the case, would I have ordained those executions,—I, who for my ulterior projects, had more than ever occasion to raise men from the people of Italy? In Europe, and in our day, the blood of men is not shed in vain.

At the time of the revolt of the imperial vassals, I found myself in a position eminently critical; 1 leave those to judge of it who know the country and the spirit of the inhabi

tants.

I occupied, it is true, the city of Milan which was republican in appearance; but this imperfect republic was the work of only a small number of men, which my presence alone rendered strong, being more tormented with ambition than with the passion of liberty.

Dazzled by my first success, I committed a great error, the consequences of which might have been most fatal for my glory, and the safety of the French army. I wished in a season in which the heat is excessive in the environs of Mantua, at once to take that city without heavy artillery, to annihilate the enemy's army, conquer the Roman states and subdue Venice. This was, I repeat, an error, a very great error; but I made no mention of it to any of my generals, although I knew all the extent of it: nevertheless to have repaired it, absolves me from one half of the blame. I never yet think of this epoch of my life without some palpitations of the heart, so much had an excess of ardour accumulated perils around me.

Mantua defended itself with courage; the Pope and Venice were under arms; the King of Naples had all his forces ready; Romagna menaced to rise up, as it did a few days after in so terMONTHLY MAG. No. 361.

rible a manner; the greater part of the imperial vassals were in full revolt, and, to complete my dangers, General Wurmser suddenly arrived to put himself at the head of the Austrian army. At the news of his arrival, the Tyrolese aroused from their stupor, showed themselves quite ready to crush me. [ appeal to my contemporaries, if my position was not sufficiently critical. The least feebleness on my part, and all was lost, my glory and iny army. Had my troops conceived my danger, it would have been a great misfortune. I knew the French soldier; he is not fond of being in peril: to disguise from him his situation in such a case, is the best thing to be done.

Of all the dangers which surrounded me, the most urgent was the revolt of the people in my own army. It was not a common repression that I had to effect; it was a terrible chastisement which I had to inflict, in order to spread a salutary terror. Time pressed upon me; the chastisement was as prompt as it was dreadful, and the inconceivable effect which followed, is a victorious answer to the accusation which my enemies have wished, and would still endeavour to bring against me.

After exposing the conduct of the Directory, he thus proceeds:

The French are all fire for a hero of whom a brilliant action entitles him to that appellation: but should this hero return to domestic society, there are only a very few honest men who think of him; witness Moreau.

I had mounted too brilliant a courser to suffer him to perish uselessly in the stable. Europe presented nothing worth my attention; I then planned the expedition to Egypt. It served me only at first as a last resource: involving myself always in idea into the consequences which this enterprise might produce, if brought to a good termination, I was agreeably surprised to see that France found incalculable advantages in the plan. The English were persuaded of it, and posterity will be of the opinion of England."

To accuse the Directory of having conceived the project of conquering Egypt, for the purpose of sending me thither, and by that means getting rid of me, is a calumny. The project was mine, and mine alone. It is possible that in giving its consent, the Directory cherished the hope that I should return no more; but that is only a supposition, and in similar matters, positive proofs are necessary.

The regeneration of the people of Egypt would have done me much honour; but it was impossible. That people, with some few exceptions, are generally besotted by despotism: too stupidly organised to be revenged, they take a delight in it, mechanically. Mortals, degraded from all generous sentiments they are morally and physically incapable of appreciating the benefits of European civilization, and of blessing the hand of the legislator who wished to restore them to the dignity of other nations. I have been more than once tempted to imitate Omar and Mahomet, but in another sense: viz. to invite, sword in hand, the people of Egypt to the enjoyment of all their rights; but more personal interests claimed all my attention.

The French admiral improperly wished to fight against Nelson, and our fleet was destroyed at Aboukir; Brueix, it is true, died gloriously on board. His death expiated his fault, but did not repair it. I say his fault, for it was his own. Five or six days previous, Rapp or Junot, my Aides-de-camp, had carried him an order to retire to Cadiz.

An army transported to another hemisphere, being deprived of the correspondence with the mother-country, can no longer be supplied with provisions, and is an army two thirds lost. It was even a miracle that the French were able to do so much in Egypt.

I was ignorant of every thing passing in France: Kleber could replace me in Egypt, where sooner or later it was necessary to finish the campaign by a capitulation. I put all in order, embarked, and arrived safely at Frejus.

I was overwhelmed with grief at finding France so different from what I had made it before my departure for Egypt. My conquests were lost, the armies were discouraged and suffering and the interior was torn by factions. There needed not so much to excite my indignation against the Directory, the

cause of all the evil, and principally against Barras, whom I knew to have more especially conducted affairs and taken the lead.

The encouraging reception I met with from Frejus to Paris, and that which I afterwards received in the capital, proved that the French placed great hopes in me.

Menaced from without, torn by factions in the interior, France required a good head and a firm hand to draw it from the precipice. I believed myself reserved for the honour of rendering it this service. General Moreau might, it is true, have the same pretensions; but he did himself justice in believing he had no genius but in the day of battle: he thought wisely, for he would have failed.

However, when it became a question between myself and my friends of both councils, of dissolving that of the Five Hundred, I was for a moment terrified with the means which it was necessary to put in hand to effect this dissolution. It required nothing short of the dangers of the country to decide my giving orders, sword in hand, to men still decorated with the title of legislators. The die was at last cast; the government was destroyed, and succeeded by three consuls, of whom I was the first.

From the point whence I set out to that in which I now found myself, the transition was not made without affording me much cause for reflection. I saw myself launched forth, but I could not tell when or where I should stop. I never liked uncertainty; I cut the knot, and decided in secret for the supreme rank. This acknowledgment is so much the more a matter of fact, as I had never had the slightest idea of that great ambition.

The consulate for life was given to me. It was a grand step made, but it was still only a precarious state for the people and for myself. A great nation requires a fixed government, which the death of one man may not overthrow. If I prepared for war, the same cannon ball might kill the first consul and the consular government. The factions although extinguished, might rise again from their ashes, and plunge France once more into the abyss from which I had saved her. This was felt by all and by myself still more.

The victory of Marengo, in deciding the fate of Austria, placed France at the head of the first states of

Europe.

Europe. My reputation and my power were doubled. It was at this epoch that for the first time, I confided my ulterior projects to Josephine. She was generally good counsel, but on this occasion I found her cold and reserved. I presumed that, frightened at the grandeur of the enterprise, she durst not give me her advice. There was certainly a little of that, but there were other motives joined to it, of which, after much trouble, I obtained an explanation.

It is contrary to my known temper to entertain the public curiosity with private facts, almost always unworthy of the circle in which I have moved; however, the details I am about to enter into in spite of myself, are of a nature to leave me chargeable with an atrocious crime, if I disdained to wipe it off. My Son! it is one more sacrifice which I make for thee.

It seems as if I were yet in the presence of Josephine, alarmed at seeing me decided on placing on my head the crown of our ancient kings. But to recoll ect her very expressions, is impossible; to give the sense of them is already a great deal after a lapse of fifteen years.

"The grandeur of the enterprise," said I to my spouse, " is probably that which astonishes you to a degree, that you are unable to reply to me. ""No, my friend, your project is worthy of the sentiments which I know you possess, but the epoch which you choose to execute it, is calculated to chill me with alarm." "Why so, Madam ?" "Consul, the éclât of your glory fatigues the eyes of calumny; your enemies are awakened; ever since the battle of Marengo, they have circulated the most horrid reports." "What are they I beseech you 2", "What do you ask of me ?""" The truth." "It is horrible." "What does it matter." "My friend, Desaix was killed at Marengo. Monsters insinuate that the deed was accomplished by Frenchmen under your orders."

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This intelligence, I confess, chilled my blood with horror. It was perhaps the most lively sorrow which I had ever felt. However, I was with respect to this, the most innocent of men. But there are calumnies against which innocence itself loses courage; that which was now directed against me was of the number. What! I the assassin of Desaix!-of Desaix, who had al

ways been my friend, who was so even to his latest breath? -"But," said the calumniators," you had committed crimes in Egypt, against humanity, against Kléber, and against your own soldiers; the other generals had given him the list of them; he had accepted it, and promised to publish it soon after his return to France." Besides that these are so many atrocious impostures, I have the conscience pure regarding all which I have done in Egypt. I did only that which I was in duty compelled to do, and that in the interest of all: I appeal to posterity. As to the commission with which my enemies have bestowed upon Desaix, it is an outrage at which his great soul would have been indignant, had he survived longer for friendship. The cruel monsters knew not this Desaix, that brave warrior, that exceedingly honest man! He would have given his life for me; had my enemies wished to charge him with a list against me, he might have accepted it, but it would have been to burn it secretly, and to drink the remains of it. Is a proof wanting of the esteem which I bore him, and of the friendship with which I had inspired him? Of all the French who were in Egypt, he was the only individual, absolutely the only one, to whom I confided the secret of my return to France, which he approved of, as likely to have the greatest influence on the fate of the army which I left in Egypt.* Desaix re poses in that eternity, where, no doubt, I shall soon join him. If it be permitted for friends to meet there, he will be the first of my brave companions into whose arms I shall precipitate myself.

That which Josephine communicated, and certain reports spread on the private plots of some incorrigible jacobins, decided Napoleon to postpone the "encircling of his forehead with the diadem of monarchs."

After alluding to the miserable intrigues which Fouché had arranged to compromise the Duke d'Enghien, we have the following remarkable statement:

I was scarcely informed that there existed royalist plots beyond the Rhine, in which the Duke d'Enghien figured,

* The whole of this passage on Desaix is in the hand-writing of Bonaparte. When he shewed it to his friends, they advised him to suppress it, but he would absolutely not alter a syllable.

when

when Fouché demanded an audience. I was astonished that he had not before mentioned these discoveries. I saw, however, that he had something important to communicate to me. He told me with an air of terror, that he would no longer answer for any thing; that those whom I was pleased to call jacobins, would not be contented with the guarantees which I offered them; that they regarded them as insufficient and no way in proportion with the dangers to which they were exposed; that once seated on the throne, I should be in a situation to degrade them as speedily as I had elevated them. "Very well!" I replied, burning with rage, "what is it they want? What do they demand ?” "I know not," said he; "but see yourself if, in the discoveries made beyond the Rhine, it would be a difficult matter to prove to them that it does not form a part of your project to serve the cause of the Bourbons."

I had heard quite enough. I could no longer dissemble what sort of guarantee they demanded. In fact the death of the Duke d'Enghien decided the question, linked me irrevocably to the destinies of men who had outraged the révolution, and principally to individuals who had voted for the death of Louis XVI.: it was, in a word, placing a wall of brass between the Bourbons and myself.

He thus reasons upon that melancholy event:

Let the impartial observer and the statesman throw a veil over the bust of humanity, and let them render an account of the circumstances such as they were at that time, and they will soon be forced to confess that either myself or the Duke d'Enghien must have fallen a sacrifice in this deplorable affair.

After alluding to the famous conspiracy in which Pichegru and Moreau bore so conspicuous a part, he thus closes his remarks on the latter:

It was a misfortune for him and for me not to have been able to live together. But there was a physical and moral impossibility in it. never was jealous of him; but he on the contrary, was jealous of me. The pleasure of contributing to my ruin cost him dear. The ball which carried him off the field, of battle put an end to his existence and his glory. It is besides without example in the annals of history, that a warrior slain while armed against his country, should figure in the rank of great men.

Nations yet sufficiently respect themselves not to encourage traitors.*

The institution of the Legion of Honour was Bonaparte's favourite work; he feelingly introduced it in the following paragraphs:

The increasing prosperity of France in 1805, became insupportable to the English government. Austria received from it half a million sterling, and the war recommenced between Germany and France: I was not sorry for it. The enthusiasm of victory had paved my way to the throne; and to begin my reign by fresh victories was to secure to me more and more the tranquil possession of it. I had no uneasiness as to the success of my arms. Besides the great valour which the soldier had inherited from his triumphs, there existed unity and confidence between the army and its chief; had I not also instituted the Legion of Honour? What may not be expected on the day of battle, from an army in which the humblest soldier may at once obtain the ensign of the brave and a small freehold property? The idea alone of knowing that, in returning among his fellow citizens, every sentinel on duty will present arms at his approach, would have sufficed to make him brave every danger: but I had considered it in all its bearings.

The Legion of Honour! this title is as grand as it is applicable; it is my own work and my own property; it is not in the power of man to disinherit me of it. It will never be sufficiently appreciated what I owe to that immortal institution; thus this eulogium will surprise no one. If ever this order is destroyed, France will have lost every thing, even to its honour.

His description of the Emperor of Austria is excellent:

The battle of Austerlitz taught Francis II, that with English gold, he might raise a numerous army, and lose a fine crown. He came to see me at my bivouac; he savoured of the prince from the head to the foot. I saw in

* Although the Emperor Alexander had given a brilliant reception to Moreau, yet the day on which funeral honours were rendered to him at St. Petersburgh, there tich, of which the following is a translawas affixed in several places a Russian distion: "Traitors of every country fly to Russia! there, braving the justice of fate, you will find treasures during life, and honours will be rendered to you after death." -Note Communicated.

him too much of the unfortunate sovereign, and not enough of the enemy, to have driven him to extremity. I did not show myself sufficiently rigorous: it was a fault which cost me dear. Three times I restored to him his crown, and yet I was not bound to him by any tie to act in his favour. Some time afterwards, in my turn, fortune turned her back upon me, and his young daughter whom I espoused, became a mother. History will declare which of the two, the Emperor of Austria or the Emperor of the French has been the most generous.

However little I frequented the society of Francis II. I believe I may hazard the following character of him:

This prince has more reflection than imagination; more judgment than sagacity; he would see things in a much better light if he delighted in seeing with his own eyes; he would form surer judgments were he not in the habit of taking them ready-made from the mouths of others. Easy to be influenced when his self-love is not attacked, I believe him to be as easily prevailed upon as other sovereigns. Although he well knows that the interests of people and of kings are not the same as they were twenty-five years ago, he is still entirely for the ancient system: if ever he makes any concessions to his people, they will be wrested from him by the force of events: a mere practitioner by dispositoin, his policy is only that of some nobles who, in place of advancing with the age, would wish to make it retrograde. In other respects, he is a prince of any easy temper, of a tried candour and probity, and of a rare friendship.

We have next some remarks under the head of "Prussian War." Alexander I.

Gold and the intrigues of England performed wonders. Already several powers demanded nothing better than to seek a quarrel with me. Prussia got the start of the others, and on my refusal to deliver up Hanover, she declared war against me.

I have always had sufficient sagacity not to confirm usurped reputations. That of Prussia was of this number; and the event has proved it. To believe certain folks who talk of an invincible power, because they have seen fine uniforms filing off on a parade, Prussia was the first military power on the continent. I believed not a word of it, but I took good care to say nothing. It was the only power over which I had not yet proved my superiority. It was necessary, at least for once, to come in. contact with it, in order to assign the palm where it was due; nevertheless I should not have been the first to sound the charge.

The King of Prussia, it is true, a prudent and thoughtful man, partook not of the vulgar opinion on the superiority of his military force. While he considered it respectable, he confessed that other sovereigns might rival with him; but he adored the Queen who, pressed by the Prussian youth, solicited the King to declare war against France. William, less convinced than seduced, took as a pretext, the refusal which I had given him of Hanover, in order to march against me. It was a fault; but in fine, as great men as the King of Prussia have committed equally great faults, for less handsome women: the Queen of Prussia, whom I saw at Tilsit, was the handsomest woman in the world.

(To be completed in our next.)

1

and against the weather angle of the rudder, as to shake the whole sternframe, and render the steering of the ship in boisterous weather most laborious and dangerous. This improvement which traverses on the stern-post, acts as a minor helm, gives additional effect to the power of the rudder by the space of the vacuum it covers, and permits the water to pass smoothly from the ship's bottom along the sides of the rudder, without noise, agitation, or counteraction; thus reducing the manual labour at the wheel equal to the power of one man, and giving such ease

and