While he was studying the law, in compliance with his father's wish, at Rennes, a serious misunderstanding arose between the authorities of the province and the court. The Cardinal de Brienne, in attempting some important changes in the magistracy, experienced a resistence which he had not been prepared to expect. The provincial parliament, supported by the great body of the people, and especially of the legal faculty, came forward in defence of ancient rights. In this war of words, not unfrequently of blows, young Moreau distinguished himself on the popular side; so much so, that he was usually called the Parliamentary General. The cardinal issued orders for his apprehension; and not only did the people openly assist him, in eluding the emissaries of power, but a number of resolute students formed themselves into a body-guard for the defence of their intrepid companion. Very soon afterwards, nevertheless, we find both Moreau and the inhabitants of Rennes opposing, as keenly as they had before defended, the parliament of the province, and openly espousing the cause of the court. The reason of this change doubtless was, that the former body was unfriendly to the Convocation of the States General -- a measure which the king had been induced to sanction, and which the nation at large regarded as the forerunner of liberty.

The crisis which every one saw approaching altered the destination of Moreau. He had always disliked the law, and had once run away to enlist into a regiment which was quartered at some distance from his native town. His father had purchased his discharge, and compelled him to resume his studies. Now, however, he was old enough to follow his own inclination; and, eagerly accepting the command of a battalion of volunteers, Moreau hastened to join the army of the north.

From the day when this young officer arrived on the frontiers, he devoted his leisure hours to the theory of war; and with such success, that he ere long became celebrated as the best tactician in the service. The commander-in-chief, Pichegru, was his staunch friend; and before the year 1794 opened, he had risen to be general of division.

Moreau had never much attachment to the governments which successively trampled on his country, least of all to that of 1793. He reconciled himself to the service by the reflection that he was fighting for France -- not for the ruffians who disgraced her name; but he soon learned to his cost what it was to serve under such a tyranny. While he was running the race of victory; while at the head of a separate corps, twenty-five thousand strong, he reduced Menin, Ypres, Bruges, Ostend, and Nieuport, the isle of Cassandria, and the fort of Ecluse, -- his aged father was imprisoned by the revolutionary authorities of Brest, and was finally beheaded. The charge urged against the elder Moreau was one which seldom failed to be fatal: he was denounced as an Aristocrat, that is, one who did not approve the excesses committed by the Terrorists, though he might be friendly enough even to a republic, much more to a limited monarchy. He appears to have been an amiable and benevolent man, less anxious to join in political factions than to do good to all his countrymen: among the inhabitants of Morlaix he was honourably known as "the father of the poor."

The general, though much affected at the murder of his father, continued to serve the murderers. It is no justification to say that he was dissuaded from resigning by Pichegru: this only proves that right principles had less effect than ambition. Still, it was not without evident reluctance that he continued to obey the orders of the existing administration; and when that authority was subverted by the revolution of July 1794, and a milder, though not less rapacious government succeeded, he pursued the brilliant career before him with new energy. To his honour he was not forgetful of the old humanities of war: he did not refuse to give quarter, though enjoined to massacre all who surrendered, especially the English.

After assisting Pichegru in the conquest of Holland, Moreau, as commander-in-chief of the army of the Rhine and Moselle, opened the campaign of 1796, by the defeat of Wurmser, the Austrian general. In defiance of the enemy he passed the Rhine by night, dispersed all who opposed him, and hastened to measure his strength with the Archduke Charles, whom he forced from the field , though not without great loss. That heroic prince, however, retreated only to concentrate his forces, and never failed to return to. the attack with undiminished courage. At length, Moreau found, that after one of the most brilliant campaigns on record, he was so weakened by his very success, that he could no longer oppose the fresh masses brought against him, but must think of retrograding. Hence his famous retreat through the Black Forest and over the Rhine -- a retreat which filled all Europe with admiration. Though the country through which he returned was often rugged, abounding with defiles, and intersected by rivulets, -- advantages which were eagerly seized by the insurgent peasantry who hovered about his flanks, harassing him at every step, and cutting off whatever stragglers they met; though his rear was constantly menaced, and often assailed, by the forces of the Archduke, now much superior in numbers, he successfully repelled every attack, triumphantly fighting his way to the Rhine, which he crossed in spite of all opposition. This masterly series of movements added more to his glory than the greatest victories he had won.

The next campaign had hardly opened before some light troops of the French seized a waggon laden with the baggage of Klingin, an Austrian general. Among that baggage was found a casket filled with letters, which, though written in conventional characters, Moreau found means to decipher; and which clearly proved that a secret understanding had for some time subsisted between his friend Pichegru and the Bourbon princes.

This discovery placed the general in an embarrassing situation: he had to choose between the sacrifice of his friend and the duty he owed to his Government. For some time he hesitated which alternative to adopt; but when he learned that Pichegru was arrested by Augereau, at the instance of the Directory, (18th Fructidor) his hesitation ended. He then despatched the papers to Paris; arrested several officers who were compromised in that correspondence; and issued a proclamation to his army, in which the plots of Pichegru were denounced. This was after the lapse of four months. His conduct, on this occasion, enraged the royalists, who had previously regarded him with respect and hope, and it at the same time destroyed his credit with the republicans, who could not reconcile so long a silence with a sincere attachment to their cause.

The Directory summoned him to Paris to account for the delay. The explanations which he attempted to give were justly considered as subterfuges; and, finding himself regarded with coldness and suspicion, Moreau demanded and obtained permission to retire. He would doubtless have been visited with some heavier penalty, had not the Directory stood in fear of his popularity with the army. The disgrace of Pichegru had not been effected without extraordinary measures, which they were not disposed, and which indeed they would probably not have been permitted, to adopt in the present case.

Moreau, however, was too useful a man to continue long unemployed. After having distinguished himself nobly in the disastrous campaign of Italy (1799), he was recalled to oppose the Austrians on the Rhine. Before he proceeded to his command, he hastened to Paris to receive his instructions; and while here, it is said, and, we believe truly, that he was invited to subvert a government which both disgraced and trampled on the country; and, after some hesitation, refused, as Bernadotte had done before him. The spirit that durst any thing was at hand; and, unlike Bernadotte, Moreau assisted Buonaparte in effecting the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. Perhaps, however, he had not penetrated the real designs of that ambitious chief; -- at all events, he seemed soon to repent of what he had done. A marked coolness arose between him and the First Consul; yet this did not prevent his being confirmed in the post assigned him by the Directory. On this occasion Buonaparte shewed himself nobly superior to all petty considerations; he knew that no other general was so well qualified, either by experience or local knowledge, for a campaign beyond the Rhine. Moreau accordingly hastened to his head-quarters at Munich, and opened the campaign in the depth of winter. Opposed to him was the Archduke John, a prince possessed of many admirable qualities, but of no military experience, who was directed by one Laver, an officer of no great reputation. Such was the wretched policy of the court of Vienna. The Archduke Charles was the only Austrian general capable of opposing Moreau; he was, indeed, a match for any general of the time, with the single exception of Buonaparte; yet, for no earthly reason that can be discovered, he was kept aloof while the fate of his country was entrusted to such feeble hands. The result might easily be foreseen: Moreau triumphed at Hohenlinden, Buonaparte at Marengo -- perhaps the two most splendid victories that Europe had seen since the commencement of the revolutionary wars; and the peace of Luneville soon riveted the fetters of the continent.

On his return to Paris, Moreau was received with great outward respect by the First Consul. The question was even agitated of a marriage between him and Pauline Buonaparte; but he had the good sense to decline the honour intended him. He chose rather to marry a high-minded royalist lady, who, doubtless, thenceforth spared no pains to convert him. Buonaparte and he behaved for a time with apparent cordiality to each other; but both were too ambitious to continue very long on terms even of external amity. From his retirement at Grosbois, Moreau watched the motions of the consul with a jealous eye; and complained, perhaps with as much envy as patriotism, of his undisguised approaches towards despotism. Though these complaints were uttered to reputed friends only, they seldom failed to reach the Tuileries. Buonaparte retaliated by underrating the military successes of Moreau, whom he styled the retreating general. This stung him to the quick. "The First Consul is a general at ten thousand men a-day!" retorted Moreau. When he heard that a descent on the English coast was seriously intended, he ridiculed the "fleet of nut-shells," as he called the gun-boats of Boulogne. He laughed as openly at the Legion of Honour, and indeed flatly refused to be a member of it. "The fool!" said Moreau, "does he not know that I have belonged tor the ranks of honour these ten years!"

The dislike, for such it soon became, which the First Consul and the victor of Hohenlinden bore to each other, created much sensation in the capital. In the latter the royalists now believed they had a friend, willing, and probably able, to oppose the progress of the other towards the crown; on, the contrary, the republicans were willing to flatter themselves that he who had denounced Pichegru, must in heart be attached to their cause. Both parties, however, agreed in regarding him as one, who, from his reputation and abilities, might be successfully backed against the Corsican. Moreau, in a word, was considered at the Tuileries as the most formidable of all the many persons who agreed in desiring to prevent the consummation of the Consul's ambition; and his destruction was resolved on.

In February, 1804, the inhabitants, not only of Paris, but of all France, we might add of Europe, were astounded by the intelligence that Moreau was arrested on a charge of high treason; that he was implicated in a plot formed by Pichegru, George Cadoudal, and others, for the restoration of the Bourbons; and that his trial, in conjunction with that of many other conspirators, would soon take place. He was accordingly imprisoned in the Temple, but his trial did not commence until the close of May, Buonaparte doubtless wishing to ascertain by this delay, in how far he might proceed with safety against one whose popularity he bad so long dreaded.

The appearance of General Moreau at the bar, in the midst of a set of rude assassins, electrified all who were present. His demeanour was calm and dignified. There was not the shadow of evidence against him, except that he had been once, or at most twice, in Pichegru's company, since that General returned to Paris. That even Pichegru had ever entered into a plot for murder was altogether unproved; that Moreau had ever heard of the very existence of such a plot, there was no attempt to shew; and, notwithstanding all the influence of the consul, he was absolved by a majority of seven to five. The president refused to register the verdict; the regicide Thuriot went further: "You wish to procure the liberation of Moreau," cried he: "he will not be liberated! You will force the government to some decisive blow; for this affair is rather political than judicial, and sacrifices are sometimes necessary for the safety of the state!" Still further went another judge (by name Granger), who said that state-necessity called upon them to condemn Moreau, if even he were innocent. "You may safely find him guilty," cried Hemart; "he will be pardoned." "And who will pardon us," answered an honest judge, "for a verdict contrary to our own consciences?" Meantime several of the judges had left the room to consult with Savary, who was in an adjoining apartment. They returned, and one of them, more cunning than the rest, proposed, that as the object of the prosecution was merely to humble the pride of the prisoner, he should, for form's sake, be pronounced guilty, but excusable, and sentenced to three months' confinement. Fearful that, unless some compromise were made, Moreau might be sacrificed in his dungeon, like Pichegru, or murdered by a mock tribunal, like the heir of Condé, four judges, who had voted for his innocence, were weak enough to adopt this unprincipled proposal. Savary now insisted that the imprisonment should be extended to two years. The judges deliberated a few moments, and adopted his suggestion, by a majority of nine to three!*
 

* Two of these three were afterwards deposed by an Imperial decree on the most frivolous pretences, and the third would have been so also, had it not been represented to the tyrant that he was not aware of his will on the occasion.
 

Thus ended this judicial jugglery; but the sensation excited among the soldiery was such as to alarm Napoleon; and he was well pleased when Moreau petitioned that the two years' imprisonment might be commuted into two years' exile. The general accordingly repaired to Cadiz, and there embarked for the United States.

The next eight years were chiefly passed by Moreau on an estate which he bad purchased at Morrisville, about thirty miles from Philadelphia, and sixty from New York. Every winter he spent some weeks in the latter city. As he had been compelled to pay the expenses of his promotion, he was not rich; but his circumstances were easy enough to render his situation every way comfortable. His society was eagerly cultivated by the liberal and the wise; and his opinions were listened to with great deference. Some of them may be recorded here.

He predicted the fall of Buonaparte. "The sacrifice of so many armies," he said, "must at length reduce the empire to such a state, that it would be unable to resist the enemies roused by the mad ambition of its chief. The time would come when exasperated Europe would drag the despot from the throne."

He often compared Buonaparte with Charles XII. of Sweden, and expressed his conviction that uninterrupted success would prove the ruin of the one, as it had done of the other. On one occasion he said: "I believe Charles has been judged with too much severity: I think he would have been the greatest captain of his age, had he lost the battle of Narva. That battle inspired him with too much contempt for the enemy, and with too much confidence in his own troops. He possessed in too high a degree the qualities which constitute a great captain, and he was the victim of that excess."

"Buonaparte is covering the French name with opprobrium: soon no one will consent to bear it. My unfortunate country will be laden with the curses of the whole world. If Providence do not interfere in behalf of the French, they may one day be in the same condition as the Jews, -- conquered, dispersed, and branded with the anathema of nations."

"No prudent general will attack the enemy, unless he is almost sure of success. It is very rare indeed, that both generals have the same interest to risk the engagement; the abler one will force the other into it. Thus the great art is, how and when to give battle, not to receive it. . . . . The Great Frederic had the enemy often within his reach, but he knew how to restrain himself : an action imprudently commenced against the Russians, was near proving his destruction. The battle of Hochstett, which should have been carefully avoided, occasioned evils that were sensibly felt during the ten following years."

It is impossible to peruse these sentiments -- the result of great observation and experience, without being struck with the conformity between the character of Moreau and that of Wellington. Both acted on a system of tactics, which, however slow in operation inevitably leads to success. Neither would commit any thing to chance; and both were ever ready to take advantage of the slightest mistakes of the enemy. Such generals will ever be ranked among the true and legitimate masters of the art.

The military reputation of Moreau stood so high, that, on the approach of the great struggle between the French and Russia, the Czar made every effort to secure the benefit of his talents. So early as the opening of the campaign of 1812, the most brilliant offers were made him through his old friend the Crown Prince of Sweden. For some time he declined to take up arms against his country; but when he was informed of the reverses of Napoleon in Russia, and of the prodigious efforts making, both by him and the allies, for the campaign of 1813, he hesitated no longer. He embarked June 21, accompanied by a Russian Officer, and anchored July 24, in the road of Gottenberg. Thence he proceeded to Stralsund, where he was met by Bernadotte, and where the plan for the approaching campaign was decided on between these two famous captains.

The reception of Moreau. by the allied armies and their sovereigns was enthusiastic. The Russian emperor, in particular, sought his friendship, and made him his bosom counsellor. It may, however, be doubted, whether this European homage consoled his heart. Meeting one day with a Swiss officer of high rank in the Russian service, who had formerly fought under the tricolor flag -- "What singular chance," said he , "has brought you and me together under the banners of the Czar?" "Singular it doubtless is (answered Jomini); but there is this difference between us -- I am not a Frenchman." Moreau turned from him in silence.

In drawing up the plan of the campaign, he had attached the highest importance to the possession of Dresden. It was accordingly assailed, August 26, 1813, by the Grand Allied Army; but the unexpected arrival of the French emperor, at the head of a formidable force, suspended its fate; and both armies prepared for a general action on the following day.

In the heat of that bloody struggle, and at noon-day, Moreau was behind a Russian battery, which was exposed both in front and flank to the fire of the French. Near him were two of our countrymen, Lord Cathcart and Sir Robert Wilson. He was in the act of communicating to the Russian Emperor some observations he bad made in reconnoitring the left of the French, when a cannon-ball struck his right knee, and passing through the body of his horse, carried away the calf of his left leg. He fell into the arms of his aide-de-camp, but soon recovered his power of perception. Seeing the tears fall from the eyes of his imperial friend, he faintly uttered: "Though I am little more than a trunk, my head and heart are still your majesty's!" He was immediately borne away on the lances of the Cossacks to the tent of the emperor, where his right leg was amputated by Dr. Wylie. During this painful operation, he smoked a cigar with great composure; scarce a muscle of his countenance was moved. The doctor then examined the left, and uttered an exclamation of alarm "What, must I lose this too?" cried Moreau, "Well, well! set to work!" This second torture he bore with equal fortitude. The allies had been repulsed, and the bleeding, maimed general was compelled to be moved into Bohemia, through roads exceedingly rugged, exposed to constant and heavy rains. He was carried in a litter, by forty Croäts, who relieved each other by turns. At length the escort made a halt at Laun, where he wrote, in a firm hand, a letter to his wife. At this time he appears to have entertained some hope of recovery; he felt so much easier, that he testified a desire to be conveyed to Prague; but the medical gentlemen in attendance very properly opposed it. They knew but too well that his case was hopeless.

During the night of September 1st, he became sensible that his end was near. At seven o'clock the following morning he requested a Russian officer who attended him, to write, while he dictated, a letter to Alexander:--

"Sire--I descend into the grave with the same sentiments of respect, admiration, and devotedness, which I have never ceased to feel towards your majesty since I had the happiness of approaching you ----------."

Here he ceased -- the officer thought to reflect on what he should next say. He made a sign for a glass of water to be brought him, but expired the moment he raised it to his mouth! The intelligence was immediately conveyed to Alexander, who received it with much emotion: "He was a great man! (said the Czar) -- he had a noble heart!"

The corpse of the general was embalmed at Prague, and interred with great magnificence in the Catholic church of St. Petersburg. Alexander himself wrote to Madame Moreau, exhorting her to rely on his friendship, and inviting her to spend the remainder of her days in his dominions. He presented her with half a million of roubles, and settled on her an annual pension of thirty thousand more.

Moreau will always be ranked among the greatest captains of an age fruitful beyond all others in military talent. He was a cautious and skilful, rather than enterprising general. His manners were simple, unaffected, and pure to a degree seldom found in French officers. Humane, generous , and beloved by his comrades, his character was rather yielding than energetic, a circumstance that neutralized his hostility to the tyranny of Buonaparte. The only stain which the Buonapartists themselves attempt to fix on his memory is the fact of his accession to the allied cause, and charity will whisper that he might justly look on that as the cause, not only of European independence, but of French freedom.