was supposed to be inimical to the present state of things, Under these circumstances, it was not difficult to foresee of what stamp the deputies would be who were to be returned to assist at the Champ de Mai, and sit in the new French Parliament. They could be nothing else but either Jacobins or Bonapartists. All else were now to be excluded. Yet this was called liberty. It was certainly a round-about and dangerous road to obtain it.

Bonaparte, with that hypocritical cant of which he was so capable, now paid the utmost deference to the people, from whom and for whom he acknowledged that he held every thing. "The glory of what we have just done," said he to the army, "is wholly the peoples and yours."* "Princes are the first citizens of the State. Their authority is more or less extended, according to the interests of the nations whom they govern. Departing from these principles, I know no other legitimacy."† "It is not true to say in any nation, even in the East, that the people exist for Kings; it is every where consecrated that Kings exist only for the people."+ "Frenchmen, my wish is that of the people; my rights are theirs. Emperor, Consul, Soldier, I derive all from the people." There was a time when the Emperor thought otherwise, and when he put the throne before the people. There was a time when he considered it as a degradation to his dignity to hear of appeals to them, and when he upbraided the allied Sovereigns for daring to call upon them to exercise their judgments. Speaking of the Frankfort declaration, his odious tool Count Fontanes said, "It is unusual in the diplomacy of Kings. It is no longer to Kings like themselves that they explain their grievances, and send their manifestoes. It is to the people they address them; and from what motive do they adopt such a new method of proceeding-May not this example be fatal? Against whom is this indirect attack aimed? Against a great man who merited the gratitude of all Kings; because by re-establishing the throne of France, he has closed up the crater of the volcano which threatened them all." But times were changed; and it was become necessary for the

• Address to the army, March 21st, 1815.

† Answer to the Council of State, March 25th, 1815.

Answer to Bonaparte.

§ Speech, Champ de Mai. Fontane's report, December 22d, 1813.

Y

interests of France that this volcano should be again kindled; that the majesty of the people, which, for the welfare of France, Bonaparte had shut up in it, should again be let loose to recover their glory, and to support him and his cause against the anger of assembled Europe. This done, he would, if he could, have shut up the volcano as before, and raised his throne on the dangerous materials, letting out as convenient its fury against neighbouring countries, to prevent it from desolating his own. What he, however, wanted at this moment, by his deference to the will of the people; and what his Jacobinical friends wanted was, them a leader fit to load them in their ambitious schemes, and him a power from the people to enable him to govern them. This right he had given away, and they had consented to his doing so, at least by their silence at the time, they gave justice reason to think so. But then, their creed

That what a whole They considered that the

was, that the people could do no wrong. nation did, and said, was right. part of any nation which was strong enough to overawe the other, must be accounted the whole; and that as this was their case, so therefore whatever they did was right, and not to be disputed, however contrary to the feelings and the wish of the rest of the nation, or even to justice, good faith, or truth. This was the great revolutionary lever, which they employed to overturn all social order in Europe. It was this which all their deluded followers had imbibed as their unalterable creed, that what they called a whole, or unanimous nation, could never do wrong; that their will conferred right upon whom they chose; and it was this lever which was again called forth by the army and the Jacobins in France, to raise Bonaparte to the throne which he abdicated, and to justify their having done so in the face of a solemn treaty concluded with all Europe, binding them to the contrary. Her right to do this was incontestible. The conditions imposed, considering every circumstance, was most just-most merciful. If the voice of a nation can do right, the voice of a nation, it must be allowed, can do wrong. Yes, however contrary it may appear to modern wisdom, a whole nation may do wrong. We need not go back to ancient times to prove this; modern times afford numerous instances of this great truth. When the English nation beheaded Charles I. they did wrong. When they bent their

neck under Cromwell's tyranny, they did wrong. When the French nation, granting that they unanimously did so, recalled Bonaparte to their head, they did wrong. When, in midst of peace, they attacked Spain, they did wrong. When in peace, they annexed Hamburgh, and the countries which border on the shores of the ocean, from the Rhine to the Elbe, they did wrong. When, under the mask of friendship, they partitioned Italy, and overturned the Constitution of Switzerland, they did wrong. When they violated every treaty that they had made, they did wrong. When they abolished religion, and inculcated principles subversive of human reason and human happiness, they did wrong; and when they took the life of their King and Queen, they did wrong. But we shall be told all these, except perhaps the first and the two last, were done by the French government, not by the French people. Either the French government was the organ of the French people, or it was not. If it was, then they followed, without shame, the principles of error and injustice. If it was not, was it right in them to recal that government, whose essence was crime, and tell the world that it was the dear object of their choice, and that they would have no other? But with regard to this it was quite obvious that unanimity did not prevail in France; and is there one who, at this time of the day, can now stand forward and say that France was right-that France was unanimous in committing the last? If Louis XVI. was unjustly condemned, it follows that his descendants alone have a right to the throne of France. That he suffered unjustly, every candid mind must allow. That his punishment was unmerited, even those who took his life are now compelled to admit. "The French Revolution," said Fouche, had not its origin in the excess of tyranny. It was the slow and prepared fruit of knowledge. It was undertaken with views of justice and of order, until the fury of a mad opposition obliged its founders to consign their work to the guardianship of the multitude. Then the object failed, and the revolution deviated from its principles. No human power was capable of arresting the torrent." Then at least it was that the French nation did wrong. Then it was their King was cut off. That this was

"

Fouche's report to Bonaparte, June, 1815.

done illegally, all must confess. His accusers were his judges; and even amongst these did unanimity prevail with regard to his fate? Overawed and terrified as they were-threatened with death by an ignorant and brutal mob if they did not condemn their Sovereign, yet nearly half the Convention refused to vote for his condemnation. It was not till Jacobinical laws, force, and violence, were put in requisition, that this could be accomplished. When Duhesm demanded justice by nominal appeal, each one, simply answering this question, "Shall Louis Capet suffer death, or shall he be acquitted." Lanjunais opposed the motion, and "moved that the fate of the King, should be referred to the primary assemblies." But this was overruled by a motion for the adjournment of the question, which was in its turn put by a perfect riot; for as the members crouded about the burreaux, and in the middle of the hall, they soon proceeded from invectives to blows, and appeared more like Gladiators than Senators: some even menaced the President, as intriguing with the King's counsel, and others attempted to snatch the bell from him." In this confusion, Thuriot, who, on the previous day, threatened in the Jacobin club, to poignard the King, moved that the assembly should declare itself permanent till this affair was determined, which being done, Couthon moved to proceed, but which Pethion opposing, brought upon himself every invective and abuse. "But the President interfered in his favour, the disorder was renewed again, and was, a second time, determined by a real engagement, man to man; and blows with the fist were as liberally distributed as if the greatest part of the orators had been the genuine disciples of pugilism. At the head of these combatants, M. M. Barbaroux, the Marseillois deputy, Montaut de Illes, and Bellaud Varennes, were particularly noticed."* Notwithstanding this confusion, Couthon's motion was carried; and it was under such horrid scenes that the unfortunate Louis was brought to the scaffold, and the long and bloody guillotinings, massacres, and drownings, civil wars, and banishment of thousands, took place, which shewed that all France was not unanimous for this punishment, nor indifferent to their Sovereign's fate.

Nevertheless, these things concerned France only. The

• National Convention, December 26th, 1792.

crime and the guilt were her's alone. It was the consequences, not the crime, which most interested Europe. It was the principles which organized it, and the system which sprang from it, demanded her attention. This the most severe experience had taught her could never do any thing that was good. Continual wrongs provoked her anger—she arose as one man, and put down the system. If the French people, therefore, were unanimous in again calling back that government, whose sole employment was to convulse and desolate Europe, their unanimity only demanded that she should act with the greater decision and vigour. If they were not, still she was equally interested in destroying now what she had destroyed before, in whatever strength it appeared, and in whatever shape it assumed. This was the true bearing of this important question. It was not whether Louis or Bonaparte was to be Sovereign of France, but whether France should replace a system, whose establishment could only be upheld by the tears and the groans of Europe. If in preventing this, and securing her own safety, Europe restored to his throne the legitimate monarch of France, so much the better. If she did not, she met with no loss, as this was not her object. It was her present peace and future repose for which she contended; and not all the cavillings of party, nor the jargon about the awful unanimity of France, and the crying injustice of interfering in her domestic concerns, could blind the understanding or unnerve the arms of Europe. But this degression has led me farther than I intended from the main object of my undertaking, to which we shall now

return.

It was curious to observe the system of falsehood to which the Jacobinical adherents of Bonaparte had recourse, in order to support their cause, and encourage their friends. We have already generally alluded to them. Some of these were of a nature to excite laughter, others indignation mingled with contempt. Though given in their Journals, yet these were well known to be inserted by the express commands of the agents of government, in order to further any particular object which the Government had in view. I select a few of these insidious and designing passages. "The English people appear satisfied with the change of our government, and almost manifest enthusiasm for Napoleon."