PRINCE NAPOLEON LOUIS BONAPARTE.

(Concluded.)
IX.

WELL, it is not to be wondered at, Monseigneur," I remarked, as we continued our walk, "that the French should give themselves up to such boundless infatuation for the memory of the Emperor, but he errs egregiously who attributes its source solely to admiration of his military exploits. It has a deeper foundation in the solid benefits he conferred on France, and the innumerable blessings his ascendency strewed over all Europe. Everywhere on the continent the popular heart must rebound at mention of his name, for from his time date whatever mitigation of wrongs, whatever relief from crushing abuses, the unhappy people of Europe have obtained. In every town and village of the continent I have met traces of his passage in political, moral and physical ameliorations, that else might have slumbered for years in the bosom of the future. The din of his battles had hardly ceased before the conquered state had reason to rejoice in her defeat. As rapid in his civil movements as in his military manœuvres, decree after decree was issued, law after law promulgated with the celerity of imperial charges, to encourage agriculture, to extend commerce, to establish manufactures, and to foster the arts. The abuses of tyranny were swept away with a wave of his hand; atrocious cruelties, under a religious mask, were trampled under foot. Above all, popular rights were created and political privileges bestowed, that on their return the old monarchies dared not openly extinguish, however secretly they sought to nullify them. In a material point of view, it is impossible to estimate the bounties scattered, indiscriminately, over all countries by the sagacious and benevolent policy of Napoleon. New roads, bridges, and public edifices in every part of Europe survive as so many monuments of his universal energy, though I have often smiled at the paltry jealousy which erased the name of the founder to substitute that of his petty successor. Brilliant as was the military career of the Emperor, and astounding as the results, it is his smallest claim to the respect and gratitude of posterity."

You can hardly imagine," returned the Prince," to what degree I am affected by your words. The policy of his enemies has been for so many years directed to the effort of traducing his character and misinterpreting all his acts, that the greater part of the intelligent world, however impartial, have been led to form the most unjust views, and to adopt the most erroneous conclusions. Reckless ambition has been ascribed to him as his only trait, and a despotic will as his peculiar vice. No honest survey is made of his position; no allowance conceded to its necessities; no explanation advanced of the principles which controlled him; no homage to the results which followed his labors. But the reason for this is so evident, that his family cannot wonder, deeply as they repine, over these gross misrepresentations. The abettors of despotism cannot praise him without pronouncing their own condemnation and giving a flagrant contradiction to all their acts and words. That Napoleon was ambitious and despotic it would be absurd to deny; but these were the very qualities that circumstances called for, and the interests he represented were identified with their fullest exercise. By the force of his will, what wonders he effected for France! and granting

him no other motive than ambition, what blessings its indulgence proved for the down-trodden masses of Europe! But, the truth is, Napoleon's origin was revolutionary; his system reformatory, and the successful close of his career would have been damnatory to every dynasty in Europe. The truth of the principles he was sent to champion was the grave of the arbitrary powers. This was seen and felt on both sides, and hence the irreconcilable antipathy, the eternal hostility which marked the whole of his reign. I will not deny that he was, doubtless, pleased to display his military skill at the expense of the enemies of France and of human freedom; but that he knew the ultimate consequence of contending against united Europe. must be his downfall, there are proofs enough to show. He was well aware that the most enduring monument to his fame could only be founded in peace, and nothing was so near his heart, after every conquest, as the means to secure and perpetuate it."

"Your statement, Prince," I observed, "is certainly confirmed by his anxious appeals to the English Government, in 1800." "Is the war never to cease?" he asked; Must everything be sacrificed to vain ideas of grandeur? Does not England feel, like France, that peace is the first of a nation's wants, as it is the first of her glories." These fruitless efforts to put an end to hostilities were renewed, if I remember, at three different periods afterwards. But no, as you have strikingly shown, it was the settled policy of the old system to make no terms with him, and England, as the most interested in abuse, led the way which she strewed over with her gold. Coalition after coalition was made; alliance after alliance was formed, and neither defeat nor persuasion could calm the deadly elements of strife which kept the world so many years in bloody commotion. But which of the parties, I ask, is responsible for these scenes of devastation and slaughter? Who before man and God, should stand arraigned for such high and mighty misdemeanors? He, who fought for the regeneration of mankind and the progress of civilization; or, they who struggled only for their dynastic privileges, and the maintenance of the corruptions which had so long glutted their coffers? It matters nothing to my speculations whether the motives of Napoleon were sincerely democratic, or entirely selfish. either case he was the instrument of Providence for the promotion of the popular welfare. You see, Prince, I take a democratic view of these great events, and, with all my sympathies on the side of the people, in their gigantic struggle with the my-midons of tyranny, I am likely to draw inferences and reach conclusions respecting the wars and policy of Napoleon, widely different from those inculcated by the venal scribes who have only, as yet, for the most part, treated this subject"

"I should be surprised," he replied, "if an American could take any other view; for, removed from the class of prejudices which prevail here, nor deceived, I trust, by the ingenious sophistries which have so long disguised the truth, your country is in a situation to see clearly and judge impartially of men and their deeds in this. It is wise for your own sakes, as it is needful for humanity, whose interest it is your mission to defend, that the contest waging here between the people and their stolid oppressors should be rightly understood. To cite another proof that Napoleon knew his age, his position, and the purposes he was destined to achieve, I am proud to

*1805, '08, '12.

† In connection with the above remark, I am tempted to quote a striking passage from an article on French affairs, which appeared a couple of years since in an English journal, which, with that subtlety of tact peculiarly English, and which, to give it the right name, is audacious

point to his energetic efforts in behalf of popular instruction. What were his memorable words in announcing his scheme to France? They are his best vindication now from the mass of aspersions cast on his memory, and his surest avenger in the future. 'It is only those who mean to deceive the people,' he declared, and govern them to their own advantage, who can desire to keep them in ignorance; for the more the people are enlightened, the more will they be convinced of the necessity of laws and the wisdom of defending them; and the more tranquil, happy and prosperous will society be.' Would Napoleon have ever uttered such opinions-indeed, could his mind ever have engendered them, if he had not perceived the day coming when they must be carried into effect? Nor was he the man, vainly, childishly to struggle, like some who have succeeded him, with the exigencies of the epoch. He knew the pregnant nature of the seed he was sowing, and that its spreading roots would defy the efforts of man to eradicate them. The schools and colleges he reared in every part of France, were so many fortresses against the duration of a despotic government; and would he have been so short-sighted as to create them, were he not prepared to resign the dictatorship that anarchy and invasion had forced on him? What would have been the language of the first generation of his scholars?— 'Sire, you have prepared us to exercise sovereign power; we perfectly understand the new duties that will devolve on us, and are now ready to undertake them.' He would have beheld an entire nation kneeling in gratitude round his throne, rescued from barbaric ignorance, elevated to a level with their destiny, and fit to accomplish their high mission. Smiling benignantly on such a spectacle, how else could he address them than by acknowledging his own work. My children,' he would have replied, absolute authority was mine; it was your gift, and I have employed it for your good and the glory of France, and not in devising means to retain it. I have founded institutions, established codes, and created laws which supersede my will, and make all amenable to legal forms and legitimate restraints. I have sought to enlighten you as to your true interests, and to raise you to a clear sense of your own value. My task is accomplished-despotic power is no more possible in France. I surrender my trust, and if your confidence in myself and family remain undiminished, it is for you to choose us, or others, as delegates of your sovereign will.' It is hardly necessary to quote the words of the Emperor at St. Helena to show this was the final glory he coveted-the guiltless fame after which he aspired. The acts I am recalling attest it sufficiently."*

hypocrisy, cunningly attributes the disasters which befel the continental governments to their previous vices-ergo, their own government must be guiltless, since it escaped its deserts. There is, however, an elevation and solemnity in the following reflections, that I am disposed to treat with respect, but the accusations against the iniquities o other governments are no apology for their own. "The first French Revolution," says the writer, "was the palpable work of Providence, for the punishment of a long career of guilt, consummated by an unparalelled act of perfidy, the partition of Poland. The passions of men were made the means of punishing the vices of governments. When the cap was full, Napoleon was sent to force it upon the startled lips of Prussia, Austria and Russia. The three conspirators were crushed in bloody encounters-the capitals of the three were captured-the provinces of the throne were plundered-and the military pride of the three was humiliated by contemptuous and bitter conditions of peace. But when the destined work was done, the means were required no more. When the victims were broken on the wheel, the wheel and the executioner were alike hurried from the sight of man. The empire of France was extinguished by the same sovereign law which had permitted its existence."

I had acceded, in a spirit of candor, to the consequences of the additional act; I was aware of the exigencies of the new situation in which I found myself, seated again upon the throne; of this I gave proof when I said to Benjamin Constant :

"The nation has been twelve years at rest from all political agitation, and, for one year, has

"It is a truthful picture you have drawn, Monseigneur," I answered, " and no one, not consumed by prejudice, or pledged by their interests to distort the character and misconstrue the deeds of the Emperor, but must admit its beauty and correctness. Much as he was above the human standard, Napoleon had his faults, and committed errors; but when the mists of calumny disappear, and the bitterest detraction must, at last, give way to time, the world will be astonished at the magnitude of his work, its utility to mankind, and the generous motives which inspired him. It is difficult, indeed, in a character where intellect guided almost every act, to ascertain how far his sympathies were enlisted in the cause he was called to advance; but there was one expression of the Emperor's I have never forgotten, and which was conclusive with me of his goodness of heart. That amid the tempest and whirlwind of events, where eagle like he seemed alone to revel, Napoleon should ever have stooped from his flight to reflect on the condition of the poor, and devise means for their alleviation, is so strange as to make one instance, at least, worth recalling. You remember, he commanded that the funeral services of the poor

been resting from war; this double rest makes her long again for activity. She wants, or deems she wants liberty, a rostrum, assemblies. She has not always wanted them; she was weary of them, when she threw herself at my feet to lift me upon the imperial shield. You must remember it yourself, since you attempted to oppose my accession to the throne. Where was your support, your strength? Nowhere. I have taken less authority than I was invited to take. Recollect the time when I said to the Council of State, you think, perhaps, that it is power that I want: power! I have more than I require. Who stands up against me in France-in Europe, even? But I wish to lay the foundations of a social edifice. Look around you, what is there? On one side, the Vendeans, apparently reconciled to submission; self-exiles, whom I have recalled; priests, to whom I restored their altars, and who hate me after all, while accepting my bounty. On the other side, revolutionists split up into endless divisions, betraying, accusing each other, and over all that a freed nation, that no longer knows whom to heed. and demands repose, with the privilege of no longer thinking of any thing by itself. And you think that this is a society in good condition! With the young, 1 will form a real society, animated by the wholesome ideas of the age, sentiments of true patriotism, and which, without any of the false ideas of the past, the hatreds of the present, shall be worthy of succeeding us, and will be competent to carry out the true idea of those who made the revolution. The constitution of the year XIII., the civil code, are my works. The Bourbons have striven to stifle my glory beneath the grasp of liberty; by the weakness of their administration, and likewise by the absurd pretensions of those who surround them, they have re-awakened some of the passions of 1789. The taste of constitutions, of speech-making, seems to be returning; do not mistake, however; it is neither called for nor required by the people. The popular masses only require one thing: myself, to rid them of the Bourbons and their feudal retainers; have you not seen them, the whole popular array, following in crowds after me, calling, seeking and greeting me with their acclamations from Cannes to the Tuileries? I am not only the Emperor of the soldiery, as the liberal gentry pretends; I am that of the peasants, the plebeians of France. Therefore, in spite of the flagrant recollection of my reverses, you have seen the people returning in a mass towards me, because there exists a sympathy between us. It was not so with the privileged classes. The old nobility served me, crowded my anti-chambers; there is no office which it has not accepted, asked for, solicited. Montmorency, Brancas, Noallies, Beauveau, Bearn. Mortemart-I had men of those families; but there never existed any analogy between us. The steed performed curvets; he was well trained; but I felt his chafing. With the people it was different. The popular fibre is my own. I came from the ranks of the people; they are acted upon by my voice. Look at those conscripts-those peasants' sons. I did not flatter them; I treated them roughly, but none the less did they gather around me and cry, Long live the Emperor! For their nature and mine are identical; they consider me as their support.-their deliverer against their lords. I have but to make a sign, or only avert my eyes, and the nobles will be slaughtered in all the provincesthey have roused so much slumbering hatred within the last six months! But I do not want to be the king of an insurrection of peasants. I think there is a way of governing through a constitution; I wished for France the sceptre of the world, and to secure it for her. I required unquestioned power. To govern France, when reduced to her present limits or even to her natural ones, it may be that a constitutional system is better. Bring me your ideas.

"Free elections? public discussions? responsible ministers? liberty? I must have all that. especially the liberty of the press. To stifle it would now be absurd. Finally, I am the people's man, and if they really want liberty, I owe it to them. I have acknowledged their sov ereignty; I must obey their will, and even give ear to their whims. Never did I wish to op press them, nor to exhaust them for my personal interest. I had great designs in behalf of France; fate has willed it otherwise; I am no longer a conqueror; I never can be one again.

should be gratuitous, and that all their burial expenses should be at the charge of the state, saying- no one has a right to tax the dead; and why should the poor be deprived, because they are poor, of whatever may tend to console their poverty. One sentiment like this would redeem in my mind a thousand acts of arbitrary authority, even if necessity had not demanded them. But Prince, before I leave you, I should like greatly, were I not fearful of committing an imprudence, to canvass your opinions on the present situation of France. Your profound study of the past as displayed everywhere in your writings, has enabled you to judge correctly of the egregious errors of the present dynasty, and to form the clearest inferences of their fatal tendency."

"Speak on," said the Prince, "I see no reason why I should disguise from any one my honest opinions. Besides, the example of a conscientious thinker like yourself is somewhat contagious, and I like beyond measure the bold frankness with which you sincere republicans speak your minds. It is delightful to talk on any subject with congenial parties; and to discuss politics ever so superficially with an American is really something so I know what is possible and what is not. I can no longer have but one mission; to raise France and give her a government that shall be suited to her. I have thrust hberty aside when she stood in my way; yet do I appreciate her. I have loved her; she has been the dream of my youth. Besides, the work of my reign of fifteen years is destroyed; it cannot be begun anew. It would require twenty years' time, and the sacrifice of two millions of men. Furthermore, I desire peace, but I do not wish to give you any false hopes; I can obtain it only by dint of victories. I do not gainsay the rumor of pending negotiations; yet there are none of any value; as least they will amount to nothing, unless my first battle should recall Austerlitz or Marengo; to that end I should require four months, perhaps even five, to reorganize the army, and raise up to five hundred thousand men, I must then anticipate a hard struggle-a long war; to sustain it, the nation must support me, but in return, she shall have liberty. The position is a novel one; I am perfectly willing to receive light. I am growing older; a man is not at fortyfive that which he was at thirty. The repose of a constitutional king suits me and will surely

suit my son.

"The return from the island of Elba and the maintaining of the Napoleonian dynasty upon the throne, were as a final decision in the contest of kings and nations- The judgment was in favor of both parties; now everything is once more at issue, and both may be defeated. One spark will suffice to kindle anew a universal conflagration.

"I had closed the gulf of anarchy, cleared up chaos, purified the revolution, ennobled the nations and strengthened the thrones of kings, excited every emulation, rewarded merit of every kind, and moved back the boundaries of glory. If I interfered with the liberty of mischievous political meddlers, it was because license, anarchy, all the evils of disorder were still at the threshold. It was my wish that the title of Frenchman might be the fairest, the most desirable upon the earth; that the French nation might justly be considered the great nation, giving to the world the example of Reason's empire, of the full exercise, the entire enjoyment of all hu man faculties. The progress of information was gigantic during my reign; rectified and expanded itself, because my government was unremittingly employed in making science popular, so that now-a-days every Frenchman has learned how to think

The condition imposed upon France in 1815, is without a precedent in history; on one side the sovereign, a few thousands of subjects, clinging through personal interest to the wreck of a superannuated system; renegades from all parties constantly talking of their devotednes to the throne; chambers, destitute of energy, of prudence, squandering the nation's resources, and making it utter through their addresses an undignified language, abject flatteries which degrade a great people; and foreigners as a sole support. For how was it possible that the army should not be distrusted? A soldier can only while away the languid tediousness of a barrack life by speaking of the dangers he has encountered, of the battles which he has heard narrated by the paternal hearth; and how can a Frenchman speak of war without uttering the name of Napoleon-without filling each warlike fancy with the remembrance of history? On the other hand, thirty millions of Frenchmen, whose every interest is connected with the Revolution's handiwork! What can result from all this, save two nations upon one soil, irreconcilably bent on mutual destruction, and whose blind internal dissensions will lower their country to the last rank of nations, and furnish foreigners with an opportunity of wreaking their revenge upon the greatness of the French-unless, some day, all the generations of Frenchmen either disenthralled by the revolution or sprung from the revolution and impregnated with its principles, shall seek their salvation in one of these terrrble convulsions in which thrones are shaken to their base.

"I had, I repeat it, shut up the winds of political storms; the bag that contained them was rent at Waterloo by British bayonets. I alone might have proceeded without storms towards a universal organization which now is no longer possible save by means of frightful tem pests.-Count Montholon's work on St. Helena."