egarded this as an evil that was unavoidable,
because critics have not been able to suggest any better course.
Resistance to a relieving Army within lines of circumvallation had
fallen into such disrepute and contempt that it appears to have entirely
escaped consideration as a means. And yet in the reign of Louis XIV.
that measure was so often used with success that we can only attribute
to the force of fashion the fact that a hundred years later it
never occurred to any one even to propose such a measure. If the
practicability of such a plan had ever been entertained for a moment,
a closer consideration of circumstances would have shown that 40,000 of
the best infantry in the world under Buonaparte, behind strong lines of
circumvallation round Mantua, had so little to fear from the 50,000 men
coming to the relief under Wurmser, that it was very unlikely that any
attempt even would be made upon their lines. We shall not seek here to
establish this point, but we believe enough has been said to show
that this means was one which had a right to a share of consideration.
Whether Buonaparte himself ever thought of such a plan we leave
undecided; neither in his memoirs nor in other sources is there any
trace to be found of his having done so; in no critical works has it
been touched upon, the measure being one which the mind had lost sight
of. The merit of resuscitating the idea of this means is not great, for
it suggests itself at once to any one who breaks loose from the trammels
of fashion. Still it is necessary that it should suggest itself for
us to bring it into consideration and compare it with the means which
Buonaparte employed. Whatever may be the result of the comparison, it is
one which should not be omitted by criticism.

When Buonaparte, in February, 1814,(*) after gaining the battles at
Etoges, Champ-Aubert, and Montmirail, left Bluecher's Army, and turning
upon Schwartzenberg, beat his troops at Montereau and Mormant, every
one was filled with admiration, because Buonaparte, by thus throwing his
concentrated force first upon one opponent, then upon another, made a
brilliant use of the mistakes which his adversaries had committed
in dividing their forces. If these brilliant strokes in different
directions failed to save him, it was generally considered to be no
fault of his, at least. No one has yet asked the question, What
would have been the result if, instead of turning from Bluecher upon
Schwartzenberg, he