ems fitter to be a Circe, or a Calypso. Or if a queen, she would
be a Cleopatra."

"No," said Elnathan, with the only laugh which I had seen on his solemn
visage during the night. "She has known too much of courts to endure
royalty. She reigns as the widow of M. de Fontenai. If Tallien falls,
she will have the power of choosing from all his successors. When old
age comes at last, and conquests are hopeless, she will turn _devote_,
fly to her native Spain, abjure the face of man, spend her money on
wax-dolls and cockle-shells; and after being worshipped by the multitude
as a saint, and panegyrized by the monks as a miracle, will die with her
face turned to Paris after all, as good Mussulmen send their last breath
in the direction of Mecca."

We now plunged into the centre of a circle of men in military costume,
full of the war, and criticising Dumourier's campaign with the utmost
severity. As I listened; with some surprise at the multiplicity of
errors which the most successful general of France had contrived to
squeeze into a single month of operations, I observed a man, of a pale
thin visage, like one suffering from ill health or excessive mental
toil, but of a singularly intellectual expression; standing at a slight
distance from the group of tacticians with a quiet smile.

"Let me have the honour of presenting M. Marston to the minister at
war," was my introduction to the celebrated Carnot; with whom Elnathan
seemed to be on peculiar terms of intimacy. The minister entered at
once, and good-humouredly, into conversation.

"You must not think our favourite general," said he, "altogether the
military novice which those gentlemen of the National Guard have decided
him to be. I feel an additional interest in the question, because I had
a little official battle to fight to place him at the head of the army
of Flanders. But I saw that he had military talent, and that, with a
republic, cancels all sins."

I made some passing remark on the idleness of disputing the ability of
an officer who answered cavils by conquest, observing, that the only
rational altar raised by the Romans, a people of warriors, was to "Good
Fortune."

"Ah yes, you think, in the Choiseul style, that the first question to be
asked in choosing a general was, 'is he lucky?' I must own,
notwithstanding, that our city warriors have been of the opinion"--and a
slight movement curled his lip--"that General Dumourier has fought his
battle against princi