When Napoleon accepted what was to be considered as a doom of honourable banishment, in the command of the Egyptian expedition, he answered to those friends who advised him rather to stay and assert a pre-eminent station in the government at home, "that the fruit was not ripe." The seventeen months, or thereabouts, of his absence, had done much to complete the maturity which was formerly imperfect. The French Government had ceased to be invariably victorious, and at times had suffered internal changes, which, instead of restoring the national confidence, had only induced a general expectation of some farther and decisive revolution, that should for ever overthrow the Directorial system.

When Buonaparte sailed for Egypt, he left France at peace with Austria, and those negotiations proceeding at Rastadt, which no one then doubted would settle on a pacific footing the affairs of Germany. England alone remained hostile to France; but the former being victorious on the sea, and the latter upon the land, it seemed as if the war must languish and die of itself, unless there had been a third element, of which the rivals might have disputed the possession. But though the interests of France, as well as of humanity, peremptorily demanded peace, her rulers, feeling that their own tottering condition would be rendered still more precarious by the disbanding their numerous armies, resolved to continue the war in a new quarter.

Under the most flimsy and injurious pretexts, they attacked the neutral States of Switzerland, so eminent for their moderation; and the French troops, levied in the name of Freedom, were sent to assail that country which had been so long her mountain fortress. The ancient valour of the Switzers was unable to defend them against the new discoveries in the art of war, by which the strongest defiles can be turned, and therefore rendered indefensible. They fought with their ancient courage, particularly the natives of the mountain cantons, and only gave way before numbers and discipline. But these gallant mountaineers sacrificed more than thrice their own amount, ere they fell in their ranks, as became the countrymen of William Tell. The French affected to give the Swiss a constitution on the model of their own, but this was a mere farce. The arsenals, fortresses, and treasures of the cantons, were seized without scruple or apology, and the Swiss were treated in all respects like a conquered nation. The fate of this ancient and unoffending people excited deep and general fear and detestation, and tended more perhaps than any other event to raise the animosity of Europe in general against France, as a country which had now plainly shown, that her ambition could be bounded by no consideration of justice or international law.[434]

The King of Sardinia, who had first acknowledged the superiority of Buonaparte, and purchased his existence as a continental sovereign, by surrendering all his fortresses to France, and permitting her troops to march through his country as their own, had surely some claim to forbearance; but now, without even a pretext for such violence, the French seized upon Turin, the capital of this their vassal monarch, and upon all his continental dominions, sending him and his family to the island of Sardinia.[435]

Another victim there was of the French grasping ambition, in whose fate the Catholic world was deeply interested. We have seen already that Buonaparte, though he despoiled the Pope of power and treasure, judged it more prudent to permit him to subsist as a petty prince, than by depriving him of all temporal authority, to drive him to desperation, and oblige him to use against the Republic those spiritual weapons, to which the public opinion of Catholic countries still assigned strength. But the Directory were of a different opinion; and though the Pope had submitted passively to every demand which had been made by the French ambassador, however inconsistent with the treaty of Tolentino, the Directory, with the usual policy of their nation, privately encouraged a party in Rome which desired a revolution. These conspirators arose in arms, and, when dispersed by the guards, fled towards the hotel of Joseph Buonaparte, then the ambassador of the French to the Pope. In the scuffle which ensued, the ambassador was insulted, his life endangered, and General Duphot actually killed by his side. This outrage of course sealed the fall of the Pope, which had probably long been determined on. Expelled from his dominions, the aged Pius VI. retired to Sienna, more the object of respect and veneration in his condition of a dethroned exile, than when holding the semblance of authority by permission of France. In place of the Pontiff's government arose the shadow of a mighty name, The Roman Republic. But the Gauls were in possession of the Capitol, nor did the ancient recollections, connected with the title of the new commonwealth, procure for the Romans more independent authority than was possessed by any of the other ephemeral republican governments.[436]

In the fall of the Pope, and the occupation of the Roman territories by a French army, the King of Naples saw the nation whom he feared and hated, and by whom he knew he was considered as a desirable subject of plunder, approach his frontiers, and become his neighbours. War he perceived was unavoidable; and he formed the resolution to be the first in declaring it. The victory of Nelson, and the interest which that distinguished hero acquired at what might be called a female court, with the laurels of the Nile fresh upon his brow, confirmed the Neapolitan government in the resolution. Mack, an Austrian general, who had got the reputation of a great tactician, and a gallant soldier, was sent by the emperor to discipline and command the Neapolitan army. Nelson's falcon eye measured the man's worth at once. "General Mack," said he, "cannot move without five carriages—I have formed my opinion—I heartily pray I may be mistaken." He was not mistaken. The Neapolitan army marched to Rome, was encountered by the French, fought just long enough to lose about forty men, then fled, abandoning guns, baggage, arms, and every thing besides. "The Neapolitan officers did not lose much honour," said Nelson, "for God knows they had little to lose—but they lost what they had."[437] The prescient eye, which was as accurate by land as by sea, had also foreseen the instant advance of the French to Naples. It took place accordingly, but not unresisted. The naked rabble, called Lazzaroni, showed the most desperate courage. They attacked the French ere they came to the city; and notwithstanding a murderous defeat, they held out Naples for two days with their irregular musketry only, against regular forces amply supplied with artillery. What can we say of a country, where the rabble are courageous and the soldiers cowards? what, unless that the higher classes, from whom the officers are chosen, must be the parties to be censured.[438]

The royal family fled to Sicily; and in Naples a new classical-sounding government was created at the command of the French general—The Parthenopean Republic. The French were now possessed of all Italy, excepting Tuscany, and that was exempted from their authority in name only, and not in effect.

The French people, notwithstanding the success of these several undertakings, were not deceived or flattered by them in a degree equal to what probably their rulers expected. Their vanity was alarmed at the meanness of the motives which the Directory exhibited on almost every occasion. Even the dazzling pride of conquest was sullied by the mercenary views with which war was undertaken. On one occasion the veil was raised, and all Frenchmen who had feelings of decency, not to say of probity or honour, remaining, must have held themselves disgraced by the venal character of their government.

Some disputes existing between France and the United States of America, commissioners were sent by the latter country to Paris, to endeavour to restore a good understanding. They were not publicly acknowledged by France in the character of ambassadors; but were distinctly given to understand, that they could only be permitted to treat, on condition that the States of America should lend to the Republic the sum of a million sterling; to which was added, the unblushing demand of fifty thousand pounds, as a douceur for the private pocket of the directors. The astonishment of the envoys was extreme at this curious diplomatic proposal, and they could hardly credit their ears when they heard it repeatedly and grossly urged. "The essential part of the treaty," said one of the French agents, "is, il faut de l'argent—il faut beaucoup d'argent;" and to render the matter palatable, he told the Americans of other countries which had paid large sums to obtain peace, and reminded them of the irresistible power of France. The Transatlantic Republicans, unmoved by these arguments, stoutly answered, "That it belonged only to petty states to purchase independence by payment of tribute—that America was willing and able to protect herself by arms, and would not purchase with money what she possessed by her powerful means of self-defence." They added, "that they had no power whatever to enter into any engagements concerning a loan."

The agents of France lowered their tone so far as to say, that if the commissioners would pay something in the way of fees, they might be permitted to remain in Paris, whilst one of their number returned to America to obtain instructions from their government; but not even to that modification of bribery would the Americans listen. They would not, according to the expression used in incendiary letters, "put five pounds in a certain place." The treaty became public, to the scandal alike of France and of Europe, which joined in regarding a government that made war on such base principles, as standing, in comparison to those who warred in the spirit of conquest, in the relation of footpads to highwaymen. The only attempt made by Talleyrand towards explanation of this singular transaction, was a shuffling denial of the fact, which he strengthened by an insinuation, that the statement of the American envoys was a weak invention, suggested to them by the English.[439]

Not to multiply instances, the rapacity and domineering insolence with which the Directory conducted themselves towards the new republics, who were at every moment made sensible of their total dependence on the Great Nation—the merciless exactions which they imposed, together with the rapacious peculations of many of their generals and agents, made them lose interest almost as fast as they could acquire territory. Their fair pretexts of extending freedom, and the benefits of a liberal government, to states which had been oppressed by the old feudal institutions, were now valued at no more than their worth; and it was seen, that the only equality which republican France extended to the conquered countries, was to render all classes alike degraded and impoverished. Thus, the successes which we have hastily enumerated rather endangered than strengthened the empire of France, as they rendered her ambition the object of fear and suspicion to all Europe. The Catholic nations beheld the degradation of the supreme Pontiff with abhorrence—every king in Europe feared a similar fate with the sovereigns of Sardinia and Naples—and, after the fate of Switzerland, no people could rely upon a peaceful, unoffending, and strictly neutral character, as ground sufficient to exempt them from French aggression. Thus a general dread and dislike prepared for a new coalition against France, in which Russia, for the first time, was to become an active co-operator.

The troops of this powerful empire were eminently qualified for encountering with the French; for, added to their hardihood, courage, and discipline, they had a national character—a distinction less known to the Germans, whose subdivision into different states, often at war with each other, has in some degree diminished their natural spirit of patriotism. Accustomed also to warfare on a great scale, and to encounter such an enemy as the Turk, the Russians, while they understood the modern system of tactics, were less servilely bigoted to it than the Austrians. Their ideas more readily went back to the natural and primitive character of war, and they were better prepared either to depart from strict technical rules themselves, or to see them departed from, and calculate the results. These new enemies of France, moreover, were full of confidence in their own character, and unchecked in their military enthusiasm by the frequent recollections of defeat, which clouded the spirit of the Austrians. Above all, the Russians had the advantage of being commanded by Suwarrow, one of the most extraordinary men of his time, who, possessed of the most profound military sagacity, assumed the external appearance of fanatical enthusiasm, as in society he often concealed his perfect knowledge of good-breeding under the show of extravagant buffoonery. These peculiarities, which would not have succeeded with a French or English army, gained for him an unbounded confidence among his countrymen, who considered his eccentric conduct, followed, as it almost always was, by brilliant success, as the result of something which approached to inspiration.[440]

The united forces of Austria and Russia, chiefly under the command of this singular character, succeeded, in a long train of bloody battles, to retake and re-occupy those states in the north of Italy, which had been conquered in Buonaparte's first campaigns. It was in vain that Macdonald, whose name stood as high among the Republican generals, as his character for honour and rectitude among French statesmen, marched from Naples, traversing the whole length of Italy, to arrest the victorious progress of the allies. After a train of stubborn fighting, it was only by displaying great military talent that he could extricate the remains of his army. At length the decisive and desperate battle of Novi seemed to exclude the French from the possession of those fair Italian provinces, which had been acquired by such expense of life.[441]

On the Rhine, though her defeats were not of such a decided character, France also lost reputation and territory. Jourdan proved no match for the Archduke Charles, who having no longer Buonaparte to encounter, asserted his former superiority over inferior French generals. His royal highness finally compelled the French to recross the Rhine, while the Austrian generals Bellegarde and Hotze, supported by a Russian division under Korsakow, advanced to the line of the Limmat, near Zurich, and waited the junction of Suwarrow to occupy Switzerland, and even to menace France, who, in a great measure despoiled of her foreign conquests, had now reason to apprehend the invasion of her own territory.

In the Netherlands, the French interest seemed equally insecure. Insurrections had already taken place in what they called Belgium, and it seemed that the natives of these populous districts desired but opportunity and encouragement for a general revolt. Holland, through all its provinces, was equally disaffected; and the reports from that country encouraged England to send to the coast an expedition, consisting of British and Russian forces, to which two divisions of the Dutch fleet delivered up their vessels, hoisting at the same time the colours of the Stadtholder. Here was another risk of an imminent and pressing description, which menaced France and its Directorial government.

It remains to be added to the tale of these foreign calamities, that the Chouans, or Royalists of Bretagne, were again in the field with a number of bands, amounting, it is said, to forty thousand men in all. They had gained several successes, and, though falling short of the chivalrous spirit of the VendÉans, and having no general equal in talents to Charette, were nevertheless sufficiently brave and well commanded, to become extremely formidable, and threaten a renewal of all the evils which had been occasioned by the former civil war.

Amidst these louring appearances, the dislike and disrespect with which the directors were regarded, occasioned their being loaded with every species of accusation by the public. It was not forgotten that it was the jealousy of Barras, Rewbel, and the other directors, which had banished from France the most successful of her generals, at the head of a gallant army, who were now needed to defend the provinces which their valour had gained. The battle of Aboukir, while it annihilated their fleet, had insulated the land forces, who, now cut off from all communication with their mother country, and shut up in an insalubrious province, daily wasted in encounters with the barbarous tribes that valour, and those lives, which, hazarded on the frontiers of France might have restored victory to their standards.

To these upbraiding complaints, and general accusations of incapacity, as well as of peculation, the directors had little to answer. What was a still greater deficiency, they had no party to appeal to, by whom their cause, right or wrong, might have been advocated with the stanch adherence of partisans. They had undergone, as we shall presently show, various changes in their own body, but without any alteration in their principles of administration, which still rested on the principle of Bascule, or see-saw,[442] as it is called in English; the attempt, in short, to govern two contending factions in the state, by balancing the one against the other, without adhering to either. In consequence of this mean and temporizing policy, which is always that of weak minds, the measures of the government were considered, not with reference to the general welfare of the state, but as they should have effect upon one or other of the parties by which it was divided. It followed also, that having no certain path and plan, but regulating their movements upon the wish to maintain an equality between the factions, in order that they might preserve their authority over both, the directors had no personal followers or supporters, save that most sordid class, who regulate their politics on their interest, and who, though faithful adherents of every settled administration, perceive, by instinctive sagacity, the moment that their patrons are about to lose their offices, and desert their cause on such occasions with all convenient speed.

Yet the directors, had they been men of talent, integrity, and character—above all, had they been united among themselves, and agreed on one steady course of policy, might have governed France with little difficulty. The great body of the nation were exhausted by the previous fury of the revolutionary movements, had supped full with politics, and were much disposed to sit down contented under any government which promised protection for life and property. Even the factions had lost their energy. Those who inclined to a monarchical form, were many of them become indifferent by whom the sceptre was wielded, providing that species of government, supposed by them most suitable to the habits and character of the French, should be again adopted. Many who were of this opinion saw great objection to the restoration of the Bourbons, for fear that, along with their right, might revive all those oppressive feudal claims which the Revolution had swept away, as well as the pretensions of the emigrants to resume their property. Those who entertained such sentiments were called ModÉrÉs. The ancient blood-red Jacobins could hardly be said to exist. The nation had had a surfeit of blood, and all parties looked back with disgust on the days of Robespierre. But there existed a kind of white Jacobins; men who were desirous to retain a large proportion of democratical principle in the constitution, either that they might not renounce the classical name of a Republic, or because they confided in their own talents, to "wield at will the fierce democracy;" or because they really believed that a potent infusion of such a spirit in the forms of government was necessary for the preservation of liberty. This party was greatly inferior in numbers to the others; and they had lost their authority over the populace, by means of which they had achieved such changes during the early periods of the Revolution. But they were bold, enterprising, active; and their chiefs, assuming at first the name of the Pantheon, afterwards of the ManÈge Club, formed a party in the state which, from the character of the leaders, gave great subject of jealousy to the Directory.[443]

The rapacity and insolent bearing of the French Government having, as we have seen, provoked a new war with Austria and Russia, the means to which the directors had recourse for maintaining it were a forced loan imposed on the wealthy, which gave alarm to property, and a conscription of two hundred thousand men, which was alike distressing to poor and rich. Both measures had been submitted to during the Reign of Terror; but then a murmur cost the complainer his head. The Directory had no such summary mode of settling grievances. These two last inflictions greatly inflamed the public discontent. To meet the general tendency to insurrection, they had recourse to a measure equally harsh and unpopular. It was called the Law of Hostages, by which the unoffending relatives of emigrants, or royalists, supposed to be in arms, were thrown into prison, and rendered responsible for the acts of their connexions. This unjust law filled the prisons with women, old men, and children,—victims of a government which, because it was not strong enough to subdue insurrection by direct force, visited the consequences of its own weakness on age, childhood, and helpless females.[444]

Meantime, the dissensions among the directors themselves, which continued to increase, led to various changes within their own body. When Buonaparte left Europe, the Directory consisted of Barras, Rewbel, Treilhard, Merlin, ReveilliÈre Lepaux. The opposition attacked them with so much fury in the Legislative Assemblies, Boulay de la Meurthe, Lucien Buonaparte, FranÇois, and other men of talent leading the way, that at length the directors appear to have become afraid of being made personally responsible, by impeachment, for the peculations of their agents, as well as for the result of the insolences by which they had exasperated the friends and allies of France. Rewbel, he whose character for talent and integrity stood most fair with the public, was removed from office by the lot which announced him as the director who was to retire. It has been said, some art was used to guide fortune on this occasion. His name in the list was succeeded by one celebrated in the Revolution; that of the AbbÉ SiÊyes.

This remarkable statesman had acquired a high reputation, not only by the acuteness of his metaphysical talent, but by a species of mystery in which he involved himself and his opinions. He was certainly possessed of great knowledge and experience in the affairs of France, was an adept in the composition of new constitutions of all kinds, and had got a high character, as possessed of secrets peculiarly his own, for conducting the vessel of the state amidst the storms of revolution. The AbbÉ, in fact, managed his political reputation as a prudent trader does his stock; and, by shunning to venture on anything which could, in any great degree, peril his credit, he extended it in the public opinion, perhaps much farther than his parts justified. A temper less daring in action than bold in metaphysical speculation, and a considerable regard for his own personal safety, accorded well with his affected air of mystery and reserve. In the National Assembly he had made a great impression, by his pamphlet explaining the nature of the Third Estate;[445] and he had the principal part in procuring the union of the three separate Estates into the National Assembly. A flaming patriot in 1792-3, he voted for the death of the unfortunate Louis; and, as was reported, with brutal levity, using the celebrated expression, "Mort sans phrase." He was no less distinguished for bringing forward the important measure for dividing France into departments, and thus blending together and confounding all the ancient distinctions of provinces.[446] After this period he became passive, and was little heard of during the Reign of Terror; for he followed the maxim of Pythagoras, and worshipped the Echo (only found in secret and solitary places) when he heard the tempest blow hard.

After the revolution of 9th Thermidor, SiÊyes came in with the moderate party, and had the merit to propose the recall of the members who had been forcibly expelled by the Jacobin faction on the fall of the Girondists. He was one of the committee of eleven, to whom was given the charge of forming the new constitution, afterwards called that of the year Three. This great metaphysical philosopher and politician showed little desire to share with any colleagues the toil and honour of a task to which he esteemed himself exclusively competent; and he produced, accordingly, a model entirely of his own composition, very ingenious, and evincing a wonderfully intimate acquaintance with political doctrines, together with a multitude of nice balances, capacities, and disqualifications, so constituted as to be checks on each other. As strongly characteristic of the genius of the man, we shall here give an account of his great work.

His plan provided that the constitution, with its powers of judicature and of administration, should emanate from the people; but lest, like that unnatural parent the sow, the people should devour their own nine farrow, the functionaries thus invested with power were to be placed, when created, out of the reach of the parents who had given them birth. The mode in which it was proposed to effect this, was both singular and ingenious. The office-bearers were thus to be selected out of three orders of the state, forming a triple hierarchy. 1. The citizens of each commune were to name one-tenth of their number, to be called the Communal Notables. From these were to be selected the magistrates of the communes, and the justices of peace. 2. The Communal Notables were again to choose a tenth part of their number, who were called the Departmental Notables. The prefects, judges, and provincial administrators, were selected from this second body. 3. The Departmental Notables, in like manner, were to elect a tenth of their number, computed to amount to about six thousand persons; and from this highest class of citizens were to be filled the most dignified and important situations in the state,—the ministers and members of government, the legislature, the senate, or grand jury, the principal judges, ambassadors, and the like. By this system it will be perceived, that instead of equality, three ranks of privileged citizens were to be established, from whose ranks alone certain offices could be filled. But this species of nobility, or, as it was called, Notability, was dependent not on birth, but on the choice of the people, from whom, though more or less directly, all officers without exception received their commissions. The elections were to take place every five years.

To represent the national dignity, power, and glory, there was to be an officer called the Grand Elector, who was to have guards, a revenue, and all the external appendages of royalty; all acts of government, laws, and judicial proceedings, were to run in his name. This species of Roi-fainÉant was to possess no part of the royal authority, except the right of naming two consuls, one for peace, and the other for war; and the farther right of selecting, from lists of candidates to be supplied by the three ranks of the hierarchy, the individuals who were to fill official situations as they should become vacant. But having exercised this privilege, the grand elector, or proclaimer general, was functus officio, and had no active duties to perform, or power to exercise. The two consuls, altogether uncontrolled by him or each other, were to act each in their own exclusive department of peace or war; and the other functionaries were alike independent of the grand proclaimer, or elector, so soon as he had appointed them. He was to resemble no sovereign ever heard of but the queen bee, who has nothing to do but to repose in idleness and luxury, and give being to the active insects by whose industry the business of the hive is carried on.

The government being thus provided for, the AbbÉ SiÊyes's system of legislature was something like that of France in the time of the Parliament. There was to be a Legislative Body of two hundred and fifty deputies; but they were to form rather a tribunal of judges, than a popular and deliberative assembly. Two other bodies, a Council of State on the part of the Government, and a Tribunate of one hundred deputies, on the part of the people, were to propose and discuss measures in presence of this Legislative Council, who then proceeded to adopt or reject them upon scrutiny and by vote, but without any oral delivery of opinions. The Tribunate was invested with the right of guarding the freedom of the subject, and denouncing to the Convocative Senate such misconduct of office-bearers, or ill-chosen measures, or ill-advised laws, as should appear to them worthy of reprobation.

But, above all, AbbÉ SiÊyes piqued himself upon the device of what he determined a Conservative Senate, which, possessing in itself no power of action or legislation of any kind, was to have in charge the preservation of the constitution. To this Senate was given the singular power, of calling in to become a member of their own body, and reducing of course to their own state of incapacity, any individual occupying another situation in the constitution, whose talents, ambition, or popularity, should render him a subject of jealousy. Even the grand elector himself was liable to this fate of absorption, as it was called, although he held his crown of Cocaign in the common case for life. Any exertion on his part of what might seem to the Senate an act of arbitrary authority, entitled them to adopt him a member of their own body. He was thus removed from his palace, guards, and income, and made for ever incapable of any other office than that of a senator. This high point of policy was carrying the system of checks and balances as far as it could well go.

The first glance of this curious model must have convinced a practical politician that it was greatly too complicated and technical to be carried into effect. The utility of laws consists in their being of a character which compels the respect and obedience of those to whom they relate. The very delicacy of such an ingenious scheme rendered it incapable of obtaining general regard, since it was too refined to be understood save by profound philosophers. To the rest of the nation it must have been like a watch to a savage, who, being commanded to regulate his time by it, will probably prefer to make the machine correspond with his inclinations, by putting backward and forward the index at pleasure. A man of ordinary talent and honest disposition might have been disqualified for public life by this doctrine of absorption, just as a man ignorant of swimming would perish if flung into a lake. But a stout swimmer would easily gain the shore, and an individual like Buonaparte would set at defiance the new species of ostracism, and decline to be neutralized by the absorption of the Senate. Above all, the plan of the abbÉ destroyed the true principle of national representation, by introducing a metaphysical election of members of legislation, instead of one immediately derived from the direct vote of the people themselves. In the abbÉ's alembic, the real and invaluable principle of popular representation was subtilized into smoke.

For these, or other reasons, the commissioners of the year Three did not approve of the plan proposed by SiÊyes; and, equally dissatisfied with the constitution which they adopted, he withdrew himself from their deliberations, and accepted the situation of ambassador to Prussia, where he discharged with great ability the task of a diplomatist.

In 1799, SiÊyes returned from Berlin to Paris, full of hope to establish his own favourite model on the ruins of the Directorial Constitution, and, as a preliminary, obtained, as we have said, Rewbel's seat in the Directory. Merlin and Lepaux, menaced with impeachments, were induced to send in their resignation. Treilhard had been previously displaced, on pretext of an informality in the choice. Instead of them were introduced into the Directory Roger Ducos, a ModÉrÉ, or rather a Royalist, with Gohier and Moulins, men of talents too ordinary to throw any opposition in the path of SiÊyes.[447] Barras, by his expenses and his luxurious mode of life, his connexion with stock-jobbers, and encouragement of peculation, was too much in danger of impeachment, to permit him to play a manly part. He truckled to circumstances, and allied himself with, or rather subjected himself to, SiÊyes, who saw the time approaching when the constitution of the year Three must fall, and hoped to establish his own rejected model in its stead. But the revolution which he meditated could only be executed by force.

The change in the Directory had destroyed the government by bascule, or balance, and that intermediate and trimming influence being removed, the two parties of the ModÉrÉs and the Republicans stood full opposed to each other, and ready to try their strength in a severe struggle. SiÊyes, though no Royalist, or at least certainly no adherent of the House of Bourbon, stood, nevertheless, at the head of the ModÉrÉs, and taxed his sagacity for means of ensuring their victory. The ModÉrÉs possessed a majority in the Council of the Ancients; but the Society of the ManÈge, Republicans if not Jacobins, had obtained, at the last election, a great superiority of numbers in the Council of Five Hundred. They were sure to be in decided opposition to any change of the constitution of the year Three; and such being the case, those who plotted the new revolution, could not attempt it without some external support. To call upon the people was no longer the order of the day. Indeed it may be supposed that the ancient revolutionary columns would rather have risen against SiÊyes, and in behalf of the Society of the ManÈge. The proposers of a new change had access, however, to the army, and to that they determined to appeal. The assistance of some military chief of the first reputation was necessary. SiÊyes cast his eyes upon Joubert, an officer of high reputation, and one of the most distinguished among Buonaparte's generals. He was named by the Directors to the command of the department of Paris, but shortly after was sent to Italy with hopes that, acquiring a new fund of glory by checking the progress of Suwarrow, he might be yet more fitted to fill the public eye, and influence the general mind, in the crisis when SiÊyes looked for his assistance. Joubert lost his life, however, at the great battle of Novi, fought betwixt him and Suwarrow; and so opportunely did his death make room for the pretensions of Buonaparte, that it has been rumoured, certainly without the least probability, that he did not fall by the fire of the Austrians, but by that of assassins hired by the family of Napoleon, to take out of the way a powerful competitor of their brother. This would have been a gratuitous crime, since they could neither reckon with certainty on the arrival of Buonaparte, nor upon his being adopted by SiÊyes in place of Joubert.

Meanwhile, the family of Napoleon omitted no mode of keeping his merits in public remembrance. Reports from time to time appeared in the papers to this purpose, as when, to give him consequence doubtless, they pretended that the Tower guns of London were fired, and public rejoicings made, upon a report that Napoleon had been assassinated. Madame Buonaparte, in the meanwhile, lived at great expense, and with much elegance, collecting around her whoever was remarkable for talent and accomplishment, and many of the women of Paris who were best accustomed to the management of political intrigue. Lucien Buonaparte distinguished himself as an orator in the Council of Five Hundred, and although he had hitherto affected Republican zeal, he now opposed, with much ability, the reviving influence of the democrats. Joseph Buonaparte, also a man of talent, and of an excellent character, though much aspersed afterwards, in consequence of the part in Spain assigned him by his brother, lived hospitably, saw much company, and maintained an ascendance in Parisian society. We cannot doubt that these near relatives of Buonaparte found means of communicating to him the state of affairs in Paris, and the opening which it afforded for the exercise of his distinguished talents.

The communication betwixt Toulon and Alexandria was, indeed, interrupted, but not altogether broken off, and we have no doubt that the struggle of parties in the interior, as well as the great disasters on the frontier, had their full influence in determining Buonaparte to his sudden return. Miot, though in no very positive strain, has named a Greek called Bambuki, as the bearer of a letter from Joseph to his brother, conveying this important intelligence. The private memoirs of FouchÉ pretend that that minister purchased the secret of Napoleon's return being expected, from Josephine herself, for the sum of a thousand louis, and that the landing at Frejus was no surprise to him. Both these pieces of private history may be safely doubted; but it would be difficult to convince us that Buonaparte took the step of quitting Egypt on the vague intelligence afforded by the journals, and without confidential communication with his own family.

To return to the state of the French Government. The death of Joubert not only disconcerted the schemes of SiÊyes, but exposed him and his party to retaliation. Bernadotte was minister of war, and he, with Jourdan and Augereau, were all warm in the cause of Republicanism. Any of these distinguished generals was capable of leading the military force to compel such an alteration in the constitution as might suit the purpose of their party, and thus reversing the project of SiÊyes, who, without Joubert, was like the head without the arm that should execute. Already Jourdan had made in the Council of Five Hundred a speech on the dangers of the country, which, in point of vehemence, might have been pronounced in the ancient hall of the Jacobins. He in plain terms threatened the ModÉrÉs with such a general insurrection as had taken place in the year 1792, and proposed to declare the country in danger. He was answered by Lucien Buonaparte, Chenier, and Boulay, who had great difficulty to parry the impetuosity with which the motion was urged forward. Though they succeeded in eluding the danger, it was still far from being over, and the democrats would probably have dared some desperate movement, if any additional reverse had been sustained on the frontier.

But as if the calamities of France, which of late had followed each other in quick succession, had attained their height of tide, the affairs of that country began all of a sudden to assume a more favourable aspect. The success of General Brune in Holland against the Anglo-Russian army, had obliged the invaders of Holland to retreat, and enter into a convention for evacuation of the country on which they had made their descent. A dispute, or misunderstanding, having occurred between the Emperors of Austria and Russia, the Archduke Charles, in order, it was alleged, to repel an incursion of the French into the countries on the Maine, withdrew a great part of his army from the line of the Limmat, which was taken up by the Russians under Korsakow. Massena took the advantage of this imprudent step, crossed the Limmat, surprised the Russians, and defeated Korsakow, whilst the formidable Suwarrow, who had already advanced to communicate with that general, found his right flank uncovered by his defeat, and had the greatest difficulty in executing a retrograde movement before General Lecourbe.

The news of these successes induced the Republicans to defer their attack upon the moderate party; and on so nice a point do the greatest events hang, that had a longer period intervened between these victories and the arrival of Buonaparte, it is most probable that he would have found the situation of military chief of the approaching revolution, which became vacant on the death of Joubert, filled up by some one of those generals, of whom success had extended the fame. But he landed at the happy crisis, when the presence of a chief of first-rate talents was indispensable, and when no favourite name had yet been found, to fill the public voice with half such loud acclaim as his own.