leaving undone exactly what they ought to
have done. They were like so many big children
who had lost their way: it was ouly when
under the protection of some of the railway
or other officials, that they looked like
creatures with ordinary gleams of intelligence.
They were ill every possible respect as utterly
helpless and useless as it is possible for men
to be.

Not long afterwards, I happened to be at
Beyrout, on the coast of Syria, when the lirst
party of French soldiers, forming part of the
French army of occupation ordered to Syria
to protect the Christians, arrived. The
detachment did not consist of more than thirty
or thirty-five men, all belonging to the " intendance,"
or commissariat department; and with
them was an officer of the same branch. To
look at the men, and to watch the matter-of-
business way in which they set to work, any one
would have supposed that their whole time of
service had been passed in expeditions to Syria.
Their special duty was to prepare and collect
stores and provisions for the force of six thousand
men which was to follow them a fortnight
later, and also to land and house a vast
quantity of hospital "comforts," and what I may
term, for want of a better word, " grocery
rations"—- coffee, sugar, brandy, tobacco, and so
forth—- for the use of the troops coming after
them. It was wonderful to see these men. They
had never in their lives been in the country; but
in two days they landed everything without
the least assistance; in a week they had
contracted witb the Arabs for mutton, beef,
vegetables, firewood, forage, barley, and whatever
the country afforded in the way of supplies.
A few days afterwards, and slaughter-houses
were established, bakehouses erected, and
quarters for the various departmental offices
hired. So complete were all their arrangements,
that when, exactly fifteen days after their
advent, General de Beaufort, with two brigades
of infantry, four squadrons of cavalry, and
two batteries of artillery, arrived, everything
was ready for their reception; and, the moment
they had pitched their tents, these troops found
every necessary, and even every comfort, as
ready as if they had formed their camp within
twenty miles of Paris.

Why should such an enormous difference
exist between the men of the two armies? Have
we not in our ranks, men quite as intelligent
as the French? Unquestionably; but whereas
in the army of our neighbours there is a
well-considered, well-digested rule for everything,
and a code of regulations to which the men
may refer for guidance under every possible
circumstance, in our service matters are crudely
left to chance and Providence. We have so
many rules, regulat ions, and warrants, that have
been made, altered, amended, re-altered,
repealed, re-promulgated, that uncertainty,
perplexity, and mystification are the blind guides.
When an English armyhas been about a year
in the field, it generally, but not always, finds
out the right way of feeding its troops caring
for its horses, and nursing its sick. Wherever
a French army goes, it takes its thoroughly
understood system with it, and is at home and
efficient instantly.

OLD STORIES RE-TOLD.
FIESCHI AND THE INFERNAL MACHINE.

During  the last week of the July of 1835,
France was full of vague but deep and universal
apprehensions. On the 28th of July, the fifth
anniversary of the revolution of 1830, Louis
Philippe, then growing rapidly more despotic and
less popular, was to review the National Guard of
the Seine and the troops of the garrison of Paris.

Saint Pelagic prison was full of republican
prisoners. A baud of nearly one hundred
Lyonese conspirators, among whom Reverchon
was conspicuous, had lately defended themselves
before the Peers at the Luxembourg with boldness
and eloquence. Mademoiselle Lenormand,
the fashiouaole prophetess, had predicted a
political catastrophe about this time. There is
a heat and oppression in the air before thunder,
and also before the outburst of political
volcanoes: signs winch alarm the thoughtful.
The Duchess of Berry's friends were suspected
of a wish to remove the wily king. Letters
from Hamburg, Berlin, Coblentz, Aix, Chambery,
Turin, spoke vaguely of mysterious murmurs
of danger. Now it was an ambuscade
on the road to Neuilly, then an explosive
machine opposite the Ambigu-Comique theatre.
Houses were searched, arrests made. The
bourgeois dreaded the public anniversary of the
Three Days, yet they scarcely knew why. It
was generally supposed that the Luxembourg
trials had driven the more violent republicans
into a howling frenzy that must terminate in
some insane act of violence. Ministers were
anxious; the mouchards (spies) were restlessly
watchful; M. Thiers adjured the king to be on
hie guard; the queen, Amelia, besought him not
to face the danger. The king, cool in judgment,
unimaginative, crafty, bold, brave, and self-willed,
turned a deaf car to all these random rumours,
aud bantered those who tried to arouse his fears.

On the 28th, the citizen king positively
refused to allow any alteration in the place where
the review was to be held. He was affable and
chatty as usual, did not manifest the slightest
apprehension, nor ordered any precaution to be
taken; but it was secretly resolved to guard and
surround him as if he had been going into an
engagement. The only words that Louis
Philippe uttered, alluding to the review, were on
the night before, when postponing some work
which one of his librarians wished him to supervise.
He said:

"To-morrow—at least if I am not killed."

Long impunity had given the king a belief in
the futility of conspiracies. The Duke of Orleans
shared deeply in the general apprehension, and
said to General Baudrand, his first aide-de-camp:

"General, they threaten to fire at us. My
brothers and I will keep constantly near the
king, and make a rampart for him with our