The victory obtained over the Directory and the democrats, upon the 18th and 19th Brumaire, was generally acceptable to the French nation. The feverish desire of liberty, which had been the characteristic of all descriptions of persons in the year 1792, was quenched by the blood shed during the Reign of Terror; and even just and liberal ideas of freedom had so far fallen into disrepute, from their resemblance to those which had been used as a pretext for the disgusting cruelties perpetrated at that terrible period, that they excited from association a kind of loathing as well as dread. The great mass of the nation sought no longer guarantees for metaphysical rights, but, broken down by suffering, desired repose, and were willing to submit to any government which promised to secure to them the ordinary benefits of civilisation.

Buonaparte and SiÊyes—for, though only during a brief space, they may still be regarded as joint authorities—were enabled to profit by this general acquiescence, in many important particulars. It put it in their power to dispense with the necessity of pursuing and crushing their scattered adversaries; and the French saw a revolution effected in their system, and that by military force, in which not a drop of blood was spilt. Yet, as had been the termination of most recent revolutions, lists of proscription were prepared; and without previous trial or legal sentence, fifty-nine of those who had chiefly opposed the new Consulate on the 18th and 19th Brumaire were condemned to deportation by the sole fiat of the consuls. SiÊyes is said to have suggested this unjust and arbitrary measure, which, bearing a colour of revenge and persecution, was highly unpopular. It was not carried into execution. Exceptions were at first made in favour of such of the condemned persons as showed themselves disposed to be tractable; and at length the sentence was altogether dispensed with, and the more obnoxious partisans of democracy were only placed under the superintendence of the police.[490] This conduct showed at once conscious strength, and a spirit of clemency, than which no attributes can contribute more to the popularity of a new government; since the spirit of the opposition, deprived of hope of success, and yet not urged on by despair of personal safety, gradually becomes disposed to sink into acquiescence. The democrats, or, as they were now termed, the anarchists, became intimidated, or cooled in their zeal; and only a few of the more enthusiastic continued yet to avow those principles, to breathe the least doubt of which had been, within but a few months, a crime worthy of death.

Other and most important decrees were adopted by the consuls, tending to lighten the burdens which their predecessors had imposed on the nation, and which had rendered their government so unpopular. Two of the most oppressive measures of the directors were repealed without delay.

The first referred to the finances, which were found in a state of ruinous exhaustion, and were only maintained by a system of compulsory and progressive loans, according to rates of assessment on the property of the citizens. The new minister of finance, Gaudin,[491] would not even go to bed, or sleep a single night, until he had produced a substitute for this ruinous resource, for which he levied an additional rise of twenty-five per cent. on all contributions, direct and indirect, which produced a large sum. He carried order and regularity into all the departments of finance, improved the collection and income of the funds of the Republic, and inspired so much confidence by the moderation and success of his measures, that credit began to revive, and several loans were attained on easy terms.

The repeal of the law of hostages was a measure equally popular. This cruel and unreasonable enactment, which rendered the aged and weak, unprotected females, and helpless children of emigrants, or armed royalists, responsible for the actions of their relatives, was immediately mitigated. Couriers were despatched to open the prisons; and this act of justice and humanity was hailed as a pledge of returning moderation and liberality.

Important measures were also taken for tranquillizing the religious discord by which the country had been so long agitated. Buonaparte, who had lately professed himself more than half persuaded of the truth of Mahommed's mission, became now—such was the decree of Providence—the means of restoring to France the free exercise of the Christian faith. The mummery of ReveilliÈre Lepaux's heathenism was by general consent abandoned. The churches were restored to public worship; pensions were allowed to such religious persons as took an oath of fidelity to the government; and more than twenty thousand clergymen, with whom the prisons had been filled, in consequence of intolerant laws, were set at liberty upon taking the same vow. Public and domestic rites of worship in every form were tolerated and protected; and the law of the decades, or Theophilanthropic festivals, was abolished. Even the earthly relics of Pope Pius VI., who had died at Valence, and in exile, were not neglected, but received, singular to relate, the rites of sepulture with the solemnity due to his high office, by command of Buonaparte,[492] who had first shaken the Papal authority; and in doing so, as he boasted in his Egyptian proclamations, had destroyed the emblem of Christian worship.

The part taken by CambacÉrÈs, the minister of justice, in the revolution of Brumaire, had been agreeable to Buonaparte; and his moderation now aided him in the lenient measures which he had determined to adopt. He was a good lawyer, and a man of sense and information, and under his administration means were taken to relax the oppressive severity of the laws against the emigrants. Nine of them, noblemen of the most ancient families in France, had been thrown on the coast near Calais by shipwreck, and the directors had meditated bringing to trial those whom the winds and waves had spared, as fallen under the class of emigrants returned to France without permission, against whom the laws denounced the penalty of death. Buonaparte more liberally considered their being found within the prohibited territory, as an act, not of violation, but of inevitable necessity, and they were dismissed accordingly.[493]

From the same spirit of politic clemency, La Fayette, Latour Maubourg, and others, who, although revolutionists, had been expelled from France for not carrying their principles of freedom sufficiently high and far, were permitted to return to their native country.

It may be easily believed that the military department of the state underwent a complete reform under the authority of Buonaparte. Dubois de CrancÉ, the minister at war under the directors, was replaced by Berthier; and Napoleon gives a strange picture of the incapacity of the former functionary. He declares he could not furnish a single report of the state of the army—that he had obtained no regular returns of the effective strength of the different regiments—that many corps had been formed in the departments, whose very existence was unknown to the minister at war; and, finally, that when pressed for reports of the pay, of the victualling, and of the clothing of the troops, he had replied, that the war department neither paid, clothed, nor victualled them. This may be exaggerated, for Napoleon disliked Dubois de CrancÉ[494] as his personal opponent; but the improvident and corrupt character of the directorial government renders the charge very probable. By the exertions of Berthier, accustomed to Buonaparte's mode of arrangements, the war department soon adopted a very different face of activity.[495]

The same department received yet additional vigour when the consuls called to be its head the celebrated Carnot, who had returned from exile, in consequence of the fall of the directors. He remained in office but a short time; for, being a democrat in principle, he disapproved of the personal elevation of Buonaparte; but during the period that he continued in administration, his services in restoring order in the military department and combining the plans of the campaign with Moreau and Buonaparte, were of the highest importance.

Napoleon showed no less talent in closing the wounds of internal war, than in his other arrangements. The Chouans, under various chiefs, had disturbed the western provinces; but the despair of pardon, which drove so many malecontents to their standard, began to subside, and the liberal and accommodating measures adopted by the new Consular government, induced most to make peace with Buonaparte. This they did the more readily, that many of them believed the chief consul intended by degrees, and when the opportunity offered, to accomplish the restoration of the Bourbons. Many of the chiefs of the Chouans submitted to him, and afterwards supported his government. Chatillon, Suzannet, D'Autichamp, nobles and chiefs of the Royalist army, submitted at MontluÇon, and their reconciliation with the government, being admitted on liberal terms, was sincerely observed by them. Bernier, rector of St. Lo, who had great influence in La VendÉe, also made his peace, and was afterwards made Bishop of Orleans by Buonaparte, and employed in negotiating the Concordat with the Pope.

Count Louis de FrottÉ, an enterprising and high-spirited young nobleman, refused for a long time to enter into terms with Buonaparte; so did another chief of the Chouans, called George Cadoudal, a peasant of the district of Morbihan, raised to the command of his countrymen, because, with great strength and dauntless courage, he combined the qualities of enterprise and sagacity. FrottÉ was betrayed and made prisoner in the house of Guidal, commandant at AlenÇon, who had pretended friendship to him, and had promised to negotiate a favourable treaty on his behalf. He and eight or nine of his officers were tried by a military commission, and condemned to be shot. They marched hand in hand to the place of execution, remained to the last in the same attitude, expressive of their partaking the same sentiments of devotion to the cause in which they suffered, and died with the utmost courage. George Cadoudal, left alone, became unable to support the civil war, and laid down his arms for a time. Buonaparte, whose policy it was to unite in the new order of things as many and as various characters as possible, not regarding what parts they had formerly played, provided they now attached themselves to his person, took great pains to gain over a man so resolute as this daring Breton. He had a personal interview with him, which he says George Cadoudal solicited; yet why he should have done so it is hard to guess, unless it were to learn whether Buonaparte had any ultimate purpose of serving the Bourbon interest. He certainly did not request the favour in order to drive any bargain for himself, since Buonaparte frankly admits, that all his promises and arguments failed to make any impression upon him; and that he parted with George, professing still to entertain opinions for which he had fought so often and so desperately.[496]

In another instance which happened at this period, Buonaparte boasts of having vindicated the insulted rights of nations. The Senate of Hamburgh had delivered up to England Napper Tandy, Blackwell, and other Irishmen, concerned in the rebellion which had lately wasted Ireland. Buonaparte took this up in a threatening tone, and expounded to their trembling envoy the rights of a neutral territory, in language, upon which the subsequent tragedy of the Duke d'Enghein formed a singular commentary.[497]

While Buonaparte was thus busied in adopting measures for composing internal discord, and renewing the wasted resources of the country, those discussions were at the same time privately carrying forward, which were to determine by whom and in what way it should be governed. There is little doubt, that when SiÊyes undertook the revolution of Brumaire, he would have desired for his military assistant a very different character from Buonaparte. Some general would have best suited him who possessed no knowledge beyond that of his profession, and whose ambition would have been contented to accept such share of power as corresponded to his limited views and capacity. The wily priest, however, saw that no other coadjutor save Buonaparte could have availed him, after the return of the latter from Egypt, and was not long of experiencing that Napoleon would not be satisfied with any thing short of the lion's share of the spoil.

At the very first meeting of the consuls, the defection of Roger Ducos to the side of Buonaparte convinced SiÊyes, that he would be unable to support those pretensions to the first place in the government, to which his friends had expected to see him elevated. He had reckoned on Ducos's vote for giving him the situation of first consul; but Ducos saw better where the force and talent of the Consulate must be considered as reposed. "General," said he to Napoleon, at the first meeting of the Consular body, "the presidency belongs to you as a matter of right." Buonaparte took the chair accordingly as a thing of course. In the course of the deliberations, SiÊyes had hoped to find that the general's opinions and interference would have been limited to military affairs; whereas, on the contrary, he heard him express distinctly, and support firmly, propositions on policy and finance, religion and jurisprudence. He showed, in short, so little occasion for an independent coadjutor, that SiÊyes appears from this, the very first interview, to have given up all hopes of establishing a separate interest of his own, and to have seen that the Revolution was from that moment ended. On his return home, he said to those statesmen with whom he had consulted and acted preceding the eighteenth Brumaire, as Talleyrand, Boulay, Roederer, Cabanis, &c.—"Gentlemen, you have a Master—give yourself no farther concern about the affairs of the state—Buonaparte can and will manage them all at his own pleasure."[498]

This declaration must have announced to those who heard it, that the direct and immediate advantages proposed by the revolution were lost; that the government no longer rested on the popular basis, but that, in a much greater degree than could have been said to have been the case during the reign of the Bourbons, the whole measures of state must in future rest upon the arbitrary pleasure of one man.

It was, in the meantime, necessary that some form of government should be established without delay, were it only to prevent the meeting of the two Councils, who must have resumed their authority, unless superseded by a new constitution previous to the 19th February, 1800, to which day they had been prorogued. As a previous measure, the oath taken by official persons was altered from a direct acknowledgment of the constitution of the year Three, so as to express a more general profession of adherence to the cause of the French nation. How to salve the wounded consciences of those who had previously taken the oath in its primitive form, no care was used, nor does any appear to have been thought necessary.[499]

The three consuls, and the legislative committees, formed themselves into a General Committee, for the purpose of organizing a constitution;[500] and SiÊyes was invited to submit to them that model, on the preparation of which he used to pique himself, and had been accustomed to receive the flattery of his friends. He appears to have obeyed the call slowly, and to have produced his plan partially, and by fragments;[501] probably because he was aware, that the offspring of his talents would never be accepted in its entire form, but must necessarily undergo such mutilations as might fit it for the purposes and to the pleasure of the dictator, whose supremacy he had been compelled to announce to his party.

On being pressed by his colleagues in the committee, the metaphysical politician at length produced his full plan of the hierarchical representation, whose authority was to emanate from the choice of the people and of a Conservative Senate, which was at once to protect the laws of the commonwealth, and absorb, as it was termed, all furious and over-ambitious spirits, by calling them, when they distinguished themselves by any irregular exertion of power, to share the comforts and incapacities of their own body, as they say spirits of old were conjured down, and obliged to abide in the Red Sea. He then brought forward his idea of a Legislative Body, which was to vote and decide, but without debate; and his Tribunate, designed to plead for, or to impeach the measures of government. These general outlines were approved, as being judged likely to preserve more stability and permanence than had been found to appertain to the constitutions, which, since 1792, had, in such quick succession, been adopted and abandoned.

But the idea which SiÊyes entertained of lodging the executive government in a Grand Elector, who was to be the very model of a King of Lubberland, was the ruin of his plan. It was in vain, that in hopes of luring Buonaparte to accept of this office, he had, while depriving it of all real power, attached to it a large revenue, guards, honours, and rank. The heaping with such distinctions an official person, who had no other duty than to name two consuls, who were to carry on the civil and military business of the state without his concurrence or authority, was introducing into a modern state the evils of a worn-out Asiatic empire, where the Sultan, or Mogul, or whatever he is called, lies in his Haram in obscure luxury, while the state affairs are conducted exclusively by his viziers, or lieutenants.

Buonaparte exclaimed against the whole concoction.—"Who," said he, "would accept an office, of which the only duties were to fatten like a pig upon so many millions yearly?[502]—Or what man of spirit would consent to name ministers, over whom, being named, he was not to exercise the slightest authority?—And your two consuls for war and peace, the one surrounded with judges, churchmen, and civilians,—the other with military men and diplomatists,—on what footing of intercourse can they be said to stand respecting each other?—the one demanding money and recruits, the other refusing the supplies? A government involving such a total separation of offices necessarily connected, would be heterogeneous,—the shadow of a state, but without the efficient authority which should belong to one."

SiÊyes did not possess powers of persuasion or promptness of speech in addition to his other talents. He was silenced and intimidated, and saw his favourite Elector-General, with his two Consuls, or rather viziers, rejected, without making much effort in their defence.

Still the system which was actually adopted, bore, in point of form, some faint resemblance to the model of SiÊyes. Three Consuls were appointed; the first to hold the sole power of nominating to public offices, and right of determining on public measures; the other two were to be his indispensable counsellors. The first of these offices was designed to bring back the constitution of France to a monarchical system, while the second and third were added merely to conciliate the Republicans, who were not yet prepared for a retrograde movement.

The office of one of these supplementary consuls was offered to SiÊyes, but he declined to accept of it, and expressed his wish to retire from public life. His disappointment was probably considerable, at finding himself acting but a second-rate part, after the success of the conspiracy which he had himself schemed; but his pride was not so great as to decline a pecuniary compensation. Buonaparte bestowed on him by far the greater part of the private treasure amassed by the ex-directors. It was said to amount to six hundred thousand francs, which SiÊyes called une poire pour la soif; in English, a morsel to stay the stomach.[503] He was endowed also with the fine domain and estate of Crosne;[504] and to render the gift more acceptable, and save his delicacy, a decree was issued, compelling him to accept of this manifestation of national gratitude. The office of a senator gave him dignity; and the yearly appointment of twenty-five thousand francs annexed to it, added to the ease of his situation.[505] In short, this celebrated metaphysician disappeared as a political person, and became, to use his own expression, absorbed in the pursuit of epicurean indulgences, which he covered with a veil of mystery. There is no doubt that by thus showing the greedy and mercenary turn of his nature, SiÊyes, notwithstanding his abilities, lost in a great measure the esteem and reverence of his countrymen; and this was a consequence not probably unforeseen by Buonaparte, when he loaded him with wealth.

To return to the new constitution. Every species of power and faculty was heaped upon the chief consul, with a liberality which looked as if France, to atone for her long jealousy of those who had been the administrators of her executive power, was now determined to remove at once every obstacle which might stand in the way of Buonaparte to arbitrary power. He possessed the sole right of nominating counsellors of state, ministers, ambassadors, officers, civil and military, and almost all functionaries whatsoever. He was to propose all new laws, and take all measures for internal and external defence of the state. He commanded all the forces, of whatever description, superintended all the national relations at home and abroad, and coined the public money. In these high duties he had the advice of his brother consuls, and also of a Council of State. But he was recognised to be independent of them all. The consuls were to be elected for the space of ten years, and to be re-eligible.

The AbbÉ SiÊyes's plan of dividing the people into three classes, which should each of them declare a certain number of persons eligible to certain gradations of the state, was ostensibly adopted. The lists of these eligible individuals were to be addressed by the various electoral classes to the Conservative Senate, which also was borrowed from the abbÉ's model. This body, the highest and most august in the state, were to hold their places for life, and had a considerable pension attached to them. Their number was not to exceed eighty, and they were to have the power of supplying vacancies in their own body, by choosing the future senator from a list of three persons; one of them proposed by the chief consul, one by the Legislative Body, and one by the Tribunate. Senators became for ever incapable of any other public duty. Their duty was to receive the national lists of persons eligible for official situations, and to annul such laws or measures as should be denounced to their body, as unconstitutional or impolitic, either by the Government or the Tribunate. The sittings of the Senate were not public.

The new constitution of France also adopted the Legislative Body and the Tribunate proposed by the AbbÉ SiÊyes. The duty of the Legislative Body was to take into consideration such laws as should be approved by the Tribunate, and pass or refuse them by vote, but without any debate, or even an expression of their opinion.

The Tribunate, on the contrary, was a deliberative body, to whom the chief consul, and his Council of State, with whom alone lay the initiative privilege, were to propose such laws as appeared to them desirable. These, when discussed by the Tribunate, and approved of by the silent assent of the Legislative Body, passed into decrees, and became binding upon the community. The Legislative Body heard the report of the Tribunate, as expressed by a deputation from that body; and by their votes alone, but without any debate or delivery of opinion, refused or confirmed the proposal. Some of the more important acts of government, such as the proclamation of peace or war, could only take place on the motion of the chief consul to the Tribunate, upon their recommending the measure to the Legislative Body; and, finally, upon the legislative commissions affirming the proposal. But the power of the chief consul was not much checked by this restriction, for the discussion on such subjects was only to take place on his own requisition, and always in secret committee; so that the greatest hinderance of despotism, the weight of public opinion formed upon public debate, was totally wanting.

A very slight glance at this Consular form of government is sufficient to show, that Buonaparte selected exactly as much of the ingenious constitution of SiÊyes as was applicable to his own object of acquiring supreme and despotic authority, while he got rid of all, the Tribunate alone excepted, which contained, directly or indirectly, any check or balance affecting the executive power. The substitution of lists of eligible persons or candidates, to be made up by the people, instead of the popular election of actual representatives, converted into a metaphysical and abstract idea the real safeguard of liberty. It may be true, that the authority of an official person, selected from the national lists, might be said originally to emanate from the people; because, unless his name had received their sanction, he could not have been eligible. But the difference is inexpressibly great, between the power of naming a single direct representative, and that of naming a thousand persons, any of whom may be capable of being created a representative; and the popular interference in the state, which had hitherto comprehended the former privilege, was now restrained to the latter and more insignificant one. This was the main error in SiÊyes's system, and the most fatal blow to liberty, whose constitutional safety can hardly exist, excepting in union with a direct and unfettered national representation, chosen by the people themselves.

All the other balances and checks which the AbbÉ had designed to substitute instead of that which arises from popular election, had been broken and cast away; while the fragments of the scheme that remained were carefully adjusted, so as to form the steps by which Buonaparte was to ascend to an unlimited and despotic throne. SiÊyes had proposed that his elector-general should be merely a graceful termination to his edifice, like a gilded vane on the top of a steeple—a sovereign without power—a roi fainÉant,[506] with two consuls to act as joint Maires des palais. Buonaparte, on the contrary, gave the whole executive power in the state, together with the exclusive right of proposing all new laws, to the chief consul, and made the others mere appendages, to be thrown aside at pleasure.

Neither were the other constitutional authorities calculated to offer effectual resistance to the engrossing authority of this all-powerful officer. All these bodies were, in fact, mere pensioners. The Senate, which met in secret, and the Legislative Body, whose lips were padlocked, were alike removed from influencing public opinion, and being influenced by it. The Tribunate, indeed, consisting of a hundred persons, retained in some sort the right of debate, and of being publicly heard. But the members of the Tribunate were selected by the Senate, not by the people, whom except in metaphysical mockery, it could not be said to represent any more than a bottle of distilled liquor can be said to represent the sheaf of grain which it was originally drawn from. What chance was there that, in a hundred men so chosen, there should be courage and independence enough found to oppose that primary power, by which, like a steam-engine, the whole constitution was put in motion? Such tribunes were also in danger of recollecting, that they only held their offices for four years, and that the senators had their offices for life; while a transition from the one state to the other was in general thought desirable, and could only be gained by implicit obedience during the candidate's probation in the Tribunate. Yet, slender as was the power of this tribunate body, Buonaparte showed some jealousy even of this slight appearance of freedom; although, justly considered, the Senate, the Conservative Body, and the Tribunate, were but three different pipes, which, separately or altogether, uttered sound at the pleasure of him who presided at the instrument.

The spirit of France must have been much broken when this arbitrary system was adopted without debate or contradiction; and, when we remember the earlier period of 1789, it is wonderful to consider how, in the space of ten years, the race of men, whose love of liberty carried them to such extravagances, seems to have become exhausted. Personal safety was now a principal object with most. They saw no alternative between absolute submission to a military chief of talent and power, and the return to anarchy and new revolutionary excesses.

During the sitting of Buonaparte's Legislative Committee, Madame de StaËl expressed to a representative of the people, her alarms on the subject of liberty. "Oh, madam," he replied, "we are arrived at an extremity in which we must not trouble ourselves about saving the principles of the Revolution, but only the lives of the men by whom the Revolution was effected."[507]

Yet more than one exertion is said to have been made in the committee, to obtain some modification of the supreme power of the chief consul, or at least some remedy in case of its being abused. Several members of the committee which adjusted the new constitution, made, it is said, an effort to persuade Buonaparte, that, in taking possession of the office of supreme magistrate, without any preliminary election, he would evince an ambition which might prejudice him with the people; and, entreating him to be satisfied with the office of generalissimo of the armies, with full right of treating with foreign powers, invited him to set off to the frontier and resume his train of victories. "I will remain at Paris," said Buonaparte, biting his nails to the quick, as was his custom when agitated—"I will remain at Paris—I am chief consul."

Chenier hinted at adopting the doctrine of absorption, but was instantly interrupted—"I will have no such mummery," said Buonaparte; "blood to the knees rather."[508] These expressions may be exaggerated; but it is certain that, whenever there was an attempt to control his wishes, or restrict his power, such a discontented remark as intimated "that he would meddle no more in the business," was sufficient to overpower the opposition. The committee saw no option betwixt submitting to the authority of this inflexible chief, or encountering the horrors of a bloody civil war. Thus were lost at once the fruits of the virtues, the crimes, the blood, the treasure, the mass of human misery, which, flowing from the Revolution, had agitated France for ten years; and thus, having sacrificed almost all that men hold dear, the rights of humanity themselves included, in order to obtain national liberty, her inhabitants, without having enjoyed rational freedom, or the advantages which it ensures, for a single day, returned to be the vassals of a despotic government, administered by a chief whose right was only in his sword. A few reflections on what might or ought to have been Buonaparte's conduct in this crisis, naturally arise out of the subject.

We are not to expect, in the course of ordinary life, moral any more than physical miracles. There have lived men of a spirit so noble, that, in serving their country, they had no other object beyond the merit of having done so; but such men belong to a less corrupted age than ours, and have been trained in the principles of disinterested patriotism, which did not belong to France, perhaps not to Europe, in the eighteenth century. We may, therefore, take it for granted, that Buonaparte was desirous, in some shape or other, to find his own interest in the service of his country, that his motives were a mixture of patriotism and the desire of self-advancement; and it remains to consider in what manner both objects were to be best obtained.

The first alternative was the re-establishment of the Republic, upon some better and less perishable model than those which had been successively adopted and abandoned by the French, in the several phases of the Revolution. But Buonaparte had already determined against this plan of government, and seemed unalterably convinced, that the various misfortunes and failures which had been sustained in the attempt to convert France into a republic, afforded irrefragable evidence that her natural and proper constitutional government must be monarchical. This important point settled, it remained, 1st, To select the person in whose hand the kingly power was to be intrusted. 2dly, To consider in what degree the monarchical principle should be mingled with, and qualified by, securities for the freedom of the people, and checks against the encroachments of the prince.

Having broken explicitly with the Republicans, Buonaparte had it in his power, doubtless, to have united with those who desired the restoration of the Bourbons, who at this moment formed a large proportion of the better classes in France. The name of the old dynasty must have brought with it great advantages. Their restoration would have at once given peace to Europe, and in a great measure reconciled the strife of parties in France. There was no doubt of the possibility of the counter-revolution; for what was done in 1814 might have been still more easily done in 1799. Old ideas would have returned with ancient names, and at the same time security might have been given, that the restored monarch should be placed within such legal restraints as were necessary for the protection of the freedom of the subject. The principal powers of Europe, if required, would have gladly guaranteed to the French people any class of institutions which might have been thought adequate to this purpose.

But, besides that such a course cut off Buonaparte from any higher reward of his services, than were connected with the rank of a subject, the same objections to the restoration of the Bourbon family still prevailed, which we have before noticed. The extreme confusion likely to be occasioned by the conflicting claims of the restored emigrants, who had left France with all the feelings and prejudices peculiar to their birth and quality, and those of the numerous soldiers and statesmen who had arisen to eminence during the revolution, and whose pretensions to rank and office would be urged with jealous vehemence against those who had shared the fortunes of the exiled monarch, was a powerful objection to the restoration. The question concerning the national domains remained as embarrassing as before; for, while the sales which had been made of that property could scarce be cancelled without a severe shock to national credit, the restored Bourbons could not, on the other hand, fail to insist upon an indemnification to the spirituality, who had been stripped of their property for their adherence to their religious vows, and to the nobles, whose estates had been forfeited for their adherence to the throne. It might also have been found, that, among the army, a prejudice against the Bourbons had survived their predilection for the Republic, and that although the French soldiers might see with pleasure a crown placed on the brow of their favourite general, they might be unwilling to endure the restoration of the ancient race, against whom they had long borne arms.

All these objections against attempting to recall the ancient dynasty, have weight in themselves, and may readily have appeared insuperable to Buonaparte; especially considering the conclusion to be, that if the Bourbons were found ineligible, the crown of France—with a more extended empire, and more unlimited powers—was in that case to rest with Buonaparte himself. There is no doubt that, in preferring the title of the Bourbons, founded on right, to his own, which rested on force and opportunity alone, Buonaparte would have acted a much more noble, generous, and disinterested part, than in availing himself of circumstances to establish his own power; nay, that, philosophically speaking, such a choice might have been wiser and happier. But in the ordinary mode of viewing and acting in this world, the temptation was immense; and Buonaparte was, in some measure, unfettered by the circumstances which might have withheld some of his contemporaries from snatching at the crown that seemed to await his grasp. Whatever were the rights of the Bourbons, abstractedly considered, they were not of a kind to force themselves immediately upon the conscience of Buonaparte. He had not entered public life, was indeed a mere boy, when the general voice of France, or that which appeared such, drove the ancient race from the throne; he had acted during all his life hitherto in the service of the French government de facto; and it was hard to require of him, now of a sudden, to sacrifice the greatest stake which a man ever played for, to the abstract right of the king de jure. Candour will therefore allow, that though some spirits, of an heroic pitch of character, might, in his place, have acted otherwise, yet the conduct of Buonaparte, in availing himself, for his own advantage, of the height which he had attained by his own talents, was too natural a course of action to be loaded with censure by any one, who, if he takes the trouble to consider the extent of the temptation, must acknowledge in his heart the difficulty of resisting it.

But, though we may acknowledge many excuses for the ambition which induced Buonaparte to assume the principal share of the new government, and although we were even to allow to his admirers that he became First Consul purely because his doing so was necessary to the welfare of France, our candour can carry us no farther. We cannot for an instant sanction the monstrous accumulation of authority which engrossed into his own hands all the powers of the State, and deprived the French people, from that period, of the least pretence to liberty, or power of protecting themselves from tyranny. It is in vain to urge, that they had not yet learned to make a proper use of the invaluable privileges of which he deprived them—equally in vain to say, that they consented to resign what it was not in their power to defend. It is a poor apology for theft, that the person plundered knew not the value of the gem taken from him; a worse excuse for robbery, that the party robbed was disarmed and prostrate, and submitted without resistance, where to resist would have been to die. In choosing to be the head of a well-regulated and limited monarchy, Buonaparte would have consulted even his own interest better, than by preferring, as he did, to become the sole animating spirit of a monstrous despotism. The communication of common privileges, while they united discordant factions, would have fixed the attention of all on the head of the government, as their mutual benefactor. The constitutional rights which he had reserved for the Crown would have been respected, when it was remembered that the freedom of the people had been put in a rational form, and its privileges rendered available by his liberality.

Such checks upon his power would have been as beneficial to himself as to his subjects. If, in the course of his reign, he had met constitutional opposition to the then immense projects of conquest, which cost so much blood and devastation, to that opposition he would have been as much indebted, as a person subject to fits of lunacy is to the bonds by which, when under the influence of his malady, he is restrained from doing mischief. Buonaparte's active spirit, withheld from warlike pursuits, would have been exercised by the internal improvement of his kingdom. The mode in which he used his power would have gilded over, as in many other cases, the imperfect nature of his title, and if he was not, in every sense, the legitimate heir of the monarchy, he might have been one of the most meritorious princes that ever ascended the throne. Had he permitted the existence of a power expressive of the national opinion to exist, co-equal with and restrictive of his own, there would have been no occupation of Spain, no war with Russia, no imperial decrees against British commerce. The people who first felt the pressure of these violent and ruinous measures, would have declined to submit to them in the outset. The ultimate consequence—the overthrow, namely, of Napoleon himself, would not have taken place, and he might, for aught we can see, have died on the throne of France, and bequeathed it to his posterity, leaving a reputation which could only be surpassed in lustre by that of an individual who should render similar advantages to his country, yet decline the gratification, in any degree, of his personal ambition.

In short, it must always be written down, as Buonaparte's error as well as guilt, that, misusing the power which the 18th Brumaire threw into his hands, he totally destroyed the liberty of France, or, we would say, more properly, the chance which that country had of attaining a free, and, at the same time, a settled government. He might have been a patriot prince, he chose to be a usurping despot—he might have played the part of Washington, he preferred that of Cromwell.[509]