of campaign, which, if intended for the
inspection of others, would have been the greatest presumption
and impertinence. And in this way Moreau, Hoche, Massena, and even
Bonaparte, came in for a most candid and impartial criticism.

How Germany might have been conquered; how Ireland ought to have been
invaded; in what way Italy should have been treated; and lastly, the
grand political error of the seizure of the Duc d'Enghien, were
subjects that I discussed and determined with consummate boldness and
self-satisfaction. I am almost overwhelmed with shame, even now, as
I think of that absurd chronicle, with its rash judgments, its crude
opinions, and its pretentious decisions.

So fascinated had I become with my task, that I rose early to resume it
each morning, and used to fall asleep cogitating on the themes for the
next day, and revolving within myself all the passages of interest I
should commemorate. A man must have known imprisonment to feel all
the value that can be attached to any object, no matter how mean or
insignificant, that can employ the thoughts, amuse the fancy, or engage
the affections. The narrow cell expands under such magic, the barred
casement is a free portal to the glorious sun and the free air; the
captive himself is but the student bending over his allotted task. To
this happy frame of mind had I come, without a thought or a wish beyond
the narrow walls at either side of me, when a sad disaster befell me.
On awaking one morning, as usual, to resume my labour, my manuscript
was gone! the table and writing materials, all had disappeared, and,
to increase my discomfiture, the turnkey informed me that Lieutenant
Giacourt had been removed from his post, and sent off to some inferior
station in the provinces.

I will not advert to the dreary time which followed this misfortune, a
time in which the hours passed on unmeasured and almost unfelt. Without
speculation, without a wish, I passed my days in a stupid indolence akin
to torpor. Had the prison doors been open, I doubt if I should have had
the energy to make my escape. Life itself ceased to have any value for
me, but somehow I did not desire death. I was in this miserable mood
when the turnkey awoke me one day as I was dozing on my bed. 'Get up,
and prepare yourself to receive a visitor,' said he. 'There's an officer
of the staff without, come to see you'; and as he spoke, a young,
slightly formed man, entered, in the uniform of a captain, who, m