Beauregard is forty years of age. He is short,
very dark, thin, and extremely vigorous, although
his features are already worn and his hair is
bleached before its time. Face, physiognomy,
language, accent, every personal characteristic,
is French. His courage is great and undisputed,
and everything about him denotes, if not a
thoroughly superior intelligence, at least a very
remarkable military aptitude. He is quick,
abrupt, and, although perfectly well bred, must
sometimes wound, not so much by the things he
says, as by his manner of saying them. Perhaps
he is not sufficiently careful to repress the
outbursts of his ardent nature, conscious of its
own value, and confirmed by an enormous military
success. He is passionate in his defence of
the cause he serves; and he takes but little
pains to conceal his passion under a calm
exterior. In short, the South has found in him a
man of uncommon energy, of all-devouring
activity, and indomitable power of will—characters
which mark men who are destined to lead parties
and win battles. General Johnston, also a pupil
of West Point, is a little older than Beauregard.
He was a colonel in the regular army at the
time of secession. He brilliantly conducted the
war in Mexico, and enjoys in the United States
a great reputation for ability and integrity.
Whether his difficulty in speaking French
compelled him to play a silent part in the prince's
presence, or whether he was thrown into the
background by his more showy colleague, he
struck his visitors as being excessively reserved,
unnecessarily modest, and oppressed by melancholy.
This obscured his well-known brilliant
qualities.

During the dinner, which took place at eight
o'clock, and during the conversation, which was
continued until midnight on the steps in front of
General Johnston's house, General Beauregard
and the chiefs around him did not wait to be
questioned about the military, political, and
economical affairs of the South. The view they
took of things was remarkable. They set aside
(as secondary, settled, or still undecided
questions) slavery, the tariffs, territorial limits,
Lincoln's election, and even the right of secession.
They took high ground, which appeared to them
above all discussion or controversy. They have
vowed to the North a mortal hatred, they will
wage against it an implacable war, because the
North has made an armed invasion of their
territories, their native land; because they are
driven to defend against it their homes, their
honour, and their liberty. From the general-in-
chief to the lowest soldier, everybody held the
same language with wonderful unanimity. It
was the watchword of the party, and probably
also their conviction.

It may be mentioned that the American
generals, in the armies both of the North and the
South, lead an extremely simple life; too simple,
perhaps, considering the pay allowed to their
high positions. A few iron knives and forks,
plates, and spoons, compose the whole of their
campaigning dinner-service; and it is probable
that under every-day circumstances, when they
are not receiving the visit of a prince, their bill
of fare does not greatly differ from that of the
common soldier. These frugal and unrefined
tastes are consistent with American habits;
moreover, in a military point of view, there are
excellent reasons for approving them. But
what appeared to be regretted, was, the absence
amongst them of all prestige in the exercise of
command. The functions of the aides-de-camp
were exclusively confined to military service,
and were quite exempt from private service
about the person of the general. It seemed
strange to behold a general-in-chief without
any medium of communication with the lower
world of subalterns, soldiers, or domestics
attached to his quarters. The intimate
relations which make the general's house the aide-
de-camp's also, which place under the charge
of the latter all the details of housekeeping,
are the source of mutual devotion and friendship,
at the same time that they raise the
command above the somewhat vulgar cares of
daily life.

The American general lives, in his tent, in a
sort of abandonment which strongly contrasts
with the movement that surrounds French
general officers. And besides, except a few
imperceptible tokens, there is nothing in his dress to
distinguish him from subaltern officers. Except
on grand occasions, he moves about among
the troops without escort, parade, or military
honours. To counteract so much outward
simplicity, requires a dose of moral ascendant and
personal prestige which are not to be met with
frequently. Democratic habit, or, to speak
correctly, the absence of military habit in the
United States, gives to the intercourse of officers
with their superiors in rank a free-and-easiness
which shocks European beholders. There
is scarcely a shade in the mode of saluting to
distinguish the highest from the lowest rank.
The inferior is the first to offer, without
hesitation, the American shake of the hand,
to his superior; and a lieutenant or a captain
was often seen to present his general to his
colonel.

After these pictures from the South, let us
turn to a few photographs of the North. The
passage of the North Star steamer over Lake
Huron allowed Colonel Pisani time to describe
his travelling companions and their peculiar
ways. There were eighty-five first-class and
thirty-five second-class passengers on board.
The size and position of the cabins made the
only distinction between the two classes. The
table and the saloon were equally open to everybody;
that is to say, people lived on terms of
the most complete equality. If a similar
confusion of ranks, classes, and fortunes, were to be
suddenly introduced into France, and established
in French railways, steamers, and tables d'hôte;
if the elegant woman of the world were obliged
to take her seat beside the humble housekeeper,
and the man of leisure to elbow the horny-
handed workman; the result for all parties
would be an unpleasant collision, from which
the sincerest democrats would be the first to