friends of French freedom, as atrocious as the proscriptions of Augustus; or the sacrifice, after a trial at Vincennes, of the Duc D'Enghein, who was plotting his ruin (even if it was not occasioned by Talleyrand,) as infamous as the assassination of Cicero in the delicious plains of his Formian villa. Did his panders and parasites, like those of Augustus, ransack his capital for beautiful females, and violate the sacred modesty of nature to see what might suit the voracity of his lust? Was his invasion of Russia as useless, and inspired by as guilty an ambition, as the march of Alexander into Asia? Did he burn any Persepolis to gratify the caprice of a Thais; or did he slay any Clytus in the delirium of a "drunken brawl?" Did he behead five thousand five hundred Saxons in a day, or put out the eyes of his relations, like the illustrious Charlemagne? Did he put fire to a whole province in the depth of winter for his amusement, or hunt down, with fire and sword, his protestant subjects like Louis le Grand? Were his prospects of general conquest more gloomy than those of Charles V. or his confinement of Pius VII. in France, whilst he renovated the unhappy city of Rome, as hypocritical and base as the sacking and bloody pillage of this city by that prince? Was the obstinacy that ruined him less glorious than that of Charles XII. or his rage for embroiling nations more selfish than that of Frederick the Great? Was his seizure of the worn-out despotism of Spain less justifiable than the partition of the factious commonweath of Poland? Was his political anatomy in carving out the confederation of the Rhine, more criminal than that of the Congress of Vienna, in the dismemberment of Saxony, because, as Talleyrand sarcastically observed to that body, her monarch, in abandoning Napoleon, happened to let his watch run a quarter of an hour slower than his neighbours? Or was the mediation of Switzerland less warrantable than the delivery of Genoa and Venice into the withering hands of Sardinia and Austria? Did his return from Elba, when Europe was discussing the propriety of forcing him thence, more rudely violate the principles of legitimacy than the invasion of England by William and Mary, who, in spite of that event, and of the battle of the Boyne, are of "blessed memory?"Was the amnesty he promised on his return into France, less scrupulously observed than that of the Legitimates after the

restoration; or does the manner in which he suppressed the insurrection in the south, cause spectres to start up in the memory, like the name of Culloden?

To political maniacs, (for such there are even at this late day who profess the doctrine of divine indefeisible hereditary right) I would not address such questions; but to a royalist in the exercise of his reason to a man who can see no difference between the violation of a right inherited and that of one fairly acquired; to whom the flight of James into France, or of Louis into Flanders, or of Napoleon into Elba, is the same sort of thing; I believe I might ask these questions without offence, and that they would tend rather to allay the heat of prejudice than to inflame it. I have not much affection, I confess, for great conquerors; they have ever appeared to me a very infamous class of men, and although it be natural, that admiration for the talents of a great person should draw after it some respect for his character, I have always been surprised at the proneness of mankind in contemplating the splendour of wickedness, to forget its enormity.

LETTER XI.

MY DEAR SIR,

Paris, March 21st, 1820.

When the first Consul planned the re-establishment of a regular despotism in France he knew full well that the fabric, he was about to erect, was abhorrent to the principles of common sense, and could never be consolidated on any other foundation than that of ignorance or depravity. Although the activity of his life had never left him much leisure, he was become profound in the science of politics, and had too quick and comprehensive a mind not to perceive that since the fall of the Roman Empire, the governments of Europe (under the influence of general causes) had passed through two changes and were now entering on the third. That the first consequence of the falling to pieces of that grand incorporation of nations had been the partition of each state that acquired its independence into little principalities, which led to the domination of the nobles during the feudal ages of barbarism and rapine; and which domination might have perpetuated the mental famine of Europe even to the present time, but for the waste of the fortunes and of the lives of many of these petty tyrants during the holy wars. That the loss of the independence of the nobles had led to the assumption of power into the hands of kings, and to the exercise of a tyranny, more or less severe according to the curb which the condition of the nobility or people may have enabled them to put on the arbitrary impetuosity of their monarchs-And thirdly that the pressure of these bad governments had been greatly mitigated of late years, and was daily undergoing great diminution from the progress of knowledge, and the increase of affluence, arising from the protection of industry under every regular government. As he knew that these causes had given that impulse to civilization which overthrew the old fabric of monarchy of France, he must

have been aware that to build it up again, (in spite of the national distaste which was then loathing liberty very violently) it was necessary to re-barbarize the nation or to poison the air that was vivifying the public morals; and thus to found on corruption what had been formerly bottomed on ignorance. The first was not only a work of infinite labour and slow operation, if indeed it might be accomplished at all, but it was one which could be done only by dastardly and ignoble means, which had nothing in them of the seducing brightness of false glory to decoy and deceive. But a generous people like the French, full of vanity and enchanted with brilliancy, might be easily allured into corruption by the false lights of stars and ribbons and rapine and military glory. As we have already seen, therefore, some of the arts by which Bonaparte won to himself the affection of this nation, let us now look a little into the policy which he adopted to preserve it; in order to determine whether or no the French can be exonerated from the charge of unjust instability in their attachment to this extraordinary person.

In order to keep up appearances and to gull the credulity of shallow thinkers, Bonaparte preserved in his new consular constitution a legislative body; and placed it in a building that was an admirable symbol of it, for this exhibits a magnificent front of crowded columns without any solid body discernable behind them. The majority of his new senate were of course obedient to his will and under the pretence of "organizing liberty" began the consolidation of his government by a list of proscription. At the same time, however, that the ardent admirers of just government were, (in the canting phrase of Parisian mockery) .sent on their travels, and the milder republicans ordered to breathe the air of the country, the more polished chevaliers of the old school, who had shewn an inflexible adherence to the doctrines of monarchy, were recalled home to constitute the "corinthian capitals" of the imperial edifice. Had this recal been unconnected with any after thought, it would have been an act of substantial justice, and deservedly hailed by the nation as a proof of a merciful and magnanimous disposition; since an infinite number of good, great, and amiable qualities belonged to those distinguished persons whom Jacobinism hunted out of France. But I fear there is too much reason to believe that the

generous clemency of Napoleon on this occasion was measured out by the calculations of self interest, and that he designed in assassinating the liberties of France, to imitate that tyrant of antiquity, who wreathed with flowers the dagger with which he struck his victims. It is somewhat remarkable, however, that men of sense, whose attention had been long turned to the contemplation of political signs, should not have perceived, in the general contexture of his policy, the ultimate object of his ambition; yet even Mr. Neckar, with all his practical good sense, wrote for the study of Bonaparte, in the third year of his consulate, an eulogium on a republic, one and indivisible, for France. To speak figuratively, that statesman seems rather to have fixed his eyes, during his retirement at Coppet, on the glittering pinnacles of the glaciers of Mont Blanc, than on the busy scene of real life that lay spread in prospect immediately before him, along the shores of Lake Leman. In planning his visionary scheme of government, he did not observe that the crown of France, which he had left on the pikes of the canaille of Paris, had first passed to the bayonets of the army, and was fixed then to the point of a conqueror's sword, where the temper of the nation, now wearied out with experiment, and soured by disappointment, was most likely to keep it; since the repose of despotism hath something captivating in it to those, who are fatigued with the commotions of anarchy.

Notwithstanding Bonaparte's great, and hitherto well deserved popularity, and the immense means of warping the opinions of individuals that were placed at his disposal by the consular government, he found it very difficult to secure at all times, a majority ready to second his designs, and he therefore resorted to clandestine means of undermining the public will. For this reason he never forged a link in the chain of despotism, but under the show of liberality. "Do you wish me to deliver you over to the Jacobins" said he, and the general dread of the assaults of these wretches on the public weal, immediately tolerated the practice of impudent frauds in the elections, and the return of the creatures of government, without regard to the voice of the real electors. "Do you wish your senators to be beggars," said he, and this authorized the pretended reward of their patriotism by lucrative offices, created expressly to excite among them by the temp