While these scenes were passing in the vicinity of France, the Emperor was using every effort to bring forward, in defence of her territory, a force in some degree corresponding to the ideas which he desired men should entertain of the great nation. He distributed the seventy or eighty thousand men whom he had brought back with him, along the line of the Rhine, unmoved by the opinions of those who deemed them insufficient in number to defend so wide a stretch of frontier. Allowing the truth of their reasoning, he denied its efficacy in the present instance. Policy now demanded, he said, that there should be no voluntary abatement of the lofty pretensions to which France laid claim. The Austrians and Prussians still remembered the campaigns of the Revolution, and dreaded to encounter France once more in the character of an armed nation. This apprehension was to be kept up as long as possible, and almost at all risks. To concentrate his forces would be to acknowledge his weakness, to confess that he was devoid of means to supply the exhausted battalions; and what might be still more imprudent, it was making the nation itself sensible of the same melancholy truth; so that, according to this reasoning, it was necessary to keep up appearances, however ill seconded by realities. The allied sovereigns, on the other hand, were gradually approaching to the right bank of the Rhine their immense masses, which, including the reserves, did not, perhaps, amount to less than half a million of men.

The scruples of the Emperor of Austria, joined to the respect entertained for the courage of the French, and the talents of their leader, by the coalition at large, influenced their councils at this period, and before resuming a train of hostilities which must involve some extreme conclusion, they resolved once more to offer terms of peace to the Emperor of France.

The agent selected on this occasion was the Baron de St. Aignan,[297] a French diplomatist of reputation, residing at one of the German courts, who, falling into the hands of the allies, was set at liberty, with a commission to assure the French Emperor of their willingness to enter into a treaty on equal terms. The English Government also publicly announced their readiness to negotiate for a peace, and that they would make considerable concessions to obtain so great a blessing.[298] Napoleon, therefore, had another opportunity for negotiating, upon such terms as must indeed deprive him of the unjust supremacy among European councils which he had attempted to secure, but would have left him a high and honourable seat among the sovereigns of Europe. But the pertinacity of Napoleon's disposition qualified him ill for a negotiator, unless when he had the full power in his own hand to dictate the terms. His determined firmness of purpose, in many cases a great advantage, proved now the very reverse, as it prevented him from anticipating absolute necessity, by sacrificing, for the sake of peace, something which it was actually in his power to give or retain. This tenacity was a peculiar feature of his character. He might, indeed, be brought to give up his claims to kingdoms and provinces which were already put beyond his power to recover; but when the question regarded the cession of any thing which was still in his possession, the grasp of the lion itself could scarce be more unrelaxing. Hence, as his misfortunes accumulated, the negotiations between him and the allies came to resemble the bargain driven with the King of Rome, according to ancient history, for the books of the Sibyls. The price of peace, like that of those mysterious volumes, was raised against him upon every renewal of the conferences. This cannot surprise any one who considers, that in proportion to the number of defeats sustained and power diminished, the demands of the party gaining the advantage must naturally be heightened.

This will appear from a retrospect to former negotiations. Before the war with Russia, Napoleon might have made peace upon nearly his own terms, providing they had been accompanied with a disavowal of that species of superior authority, which, by the display of his armies on the frontiers of Poland, he seemed disposed to exercise over an independent and powerful empire. There was nothing left to be disputed between the two Emperors, excepting the point of equality, which it was impossible for Alexander to yield up, in justice to himself and to his subjects.

The Congress at Prague was of a different complexion. The fate of war, or rather the consequence of Napoleon's own rashness, had lost him an immense army, and had delivered from his predominant influence, both Prussia and Austria; and these powers, united in alliance with Russia and England, had a title to demand, as they had the means of enforcing, such a treaty as should secure Prussia from again descending into a state which may be compared to that of Helots or Gibeonites; and Austria from one less directly dependent, but by the continuance of which she was stripped of many fair provinces, and exposed along her frontier to suffer turmoil from all the wars which the too well-known ambition of the French empire might awaken in Germany. Yet even then the terms proposed by Prince Metternich stipulated only the liberation of Germany from French influence, with the restoration of the Illyrian provinces. The fate of Holland, and that of Spain, were remitted till a general peace, to which England should be a party. But Buonaparte, though Poland and Illyria might be considered as lost, and the line of the Elbe and Oder as indefensible against the assembled armies of the allies, refused to accept these terms, unless clogged with the condition that the Hanse Towns should remain under French influence; and did not even transmit this qualified acquiescence to a treaty, until the truce appointed for the purpose of the congress had expired.[299]

After gaining six battles, and after the allies had redeemed their pledge, that they would not hear of farther negotiation while there was a French soldier in Germany, except as a prisoner, or as belonging to the garrison of a blockaded fortress, it was natural that the demands of the confederated sovereigns should rise; more especially as England, at whose expense the war had been in a great measure carried on, was become a party to the conferences, and her particular objects must now be attended to in their turn.

The terms, therefore, proposed to Napoleon, on which peace and the guarantee of his dynasty might be obtained, had risen in proportion to the success of his enemies.

The Earl of Aberdeen,[300] well known for his literature and talents, attended, on the part of Great Britain, the negotiations held with the Baron St. Aignan. The basis of the treaty proposed by the allies were—That France, divesting herself of all the unnatural additions with which the conquests of Buonaparte had invested her, should return to her natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees, which of course left her in possession of the rich provinces of Belgium. The independence of Italy, Germany, and Holland, were absolutely stipulated. Spain, whom the power of Great Britain, seconded by her own efforts, had nearly freed of the French yoke, was to be in like manner restored to independence, under Ferdinand.

Such were the outlines of the terms proposed. But it is generally admitted, that if Buonaparte had shown a candid wish to close with them, the stipulations might have been modified, so as to be more agreeable to him than they sounded in the abstract. There were ministers in the cabinet of the allied sovereigns who advised an acquiescence in Eugene Beauharnois, of whom a very favourable opinion was entertained, being received as King of the upper part of Italy, while Murat retained the southern half of that peninsula. The same counsellors would not have objected to holding Holland as sufficiently independent, if the conscientious Louis Buonaparte were placed at its head. As for Spain, its destinies were now beyond the influence of Napoleon, even in his own opinion, since he was himself treating with his captive at ValenÇay, for re-establishing him on the throne. A treaty, therefore, might possibly have been achieved by help of skilful management, which, while it affirmed the nominal independence of Italy and Holland, would have left Napoleon in actual possession of all the real influence which so powerful a mind could have exercised over a brother, a step-son, and a brother-in-law, all indebted to him for their rise to the rank they held. His power might have been thus consolidated in the most formidable manner, and his empire placed in such security, that he could fear no aggression on any quarter, and had only to testify pacific intentions towards other nations, to ensure the perfect tranquillity of France, and of the world.

But it did not suit the high-soaring ambition of Napoleon to be contented with such a degree of power as was to be obtained by negotiation. His favourite phrase on such occasions, which indeed he had put into the mouth of Maria Louisa upon a recent occasion,[301] was, that he could not occupy a throne, the glory of which was tarnished. This was a strange abuse of words; for if his glory was at all impaired, as in a military point of view it certainly was, the depreciation arose from his having lost many great battles, and could not be increased by his acquiescing in such concessions as his defeat rendered necessary. The loss of a battle necessarily infers, more or less, some censure on the conduct of a defeated general; but it can never dishonour a patriotic prince to make such sacrifices as may save his people from the scourge of a protracted and losing warfare. Yet let us do justice to the memory of a man so distinguished. If a merited confidence in the zeal and bravery of his troops, or in his own transcendent abilities as a general, could justify him in committing a great political error, in neglecting the opportunity of securing peace on honourable terms, the events of the strangely varied campaign of 1814 show sufficiently the ample ground there was for his entertaining such an assurance.

At this period, Maret, Duke of Bassano, invited the allies to hold a congress at Manheim, for considering the preliminaries of peace; and, on the part of Great Britain, Lord Castlereagh, a cabinet minister, was sent over to represent her on this important occasion. Faction, which in countries where free discussion is permitted, often attaches its censure to the best and worthiest of those to whose political opinions it is opposed, has calumniated this statesman during his life, and even after his death. This is one of the evils at the expense of which freedom is purchased; and it is purchased the more cheaply, that the hour of confutation fails not to come. Now, when his power can attract no flattery, and excite no odium, impartial history must write on the tomb of Castlereagh, that his undaunted courage, manly steadiness, and deep political sagacity, had the principal share in infusing that spirit of continued exertion and unabated perseverance into the councils of the allies, which supported them through many intervals of doubt and indecision, and finally conducted them to the triumphant conclusion of the most eventful contest which Europe ever saw.[302]

In the meanwhile, both parties proclaimed their anxiety for peace, well aware of the advantageous opinion, which the French public in particular could not fail to entertain of that party, which seemed most disposed to afford the world the blessings of that state of rest and tranquillity, which was now universally sighed for.

A manifesto was published by the allied monarchs,[303] in which they complain, unreasonably certainly, of the preparations which Buonaparte was making for recruiting his army, which augmentation of the means of resistance, whether Napoleon was to look to peace or war, was equally justifiable when the frontiers of France were surrounded by the allied armies. The rest of this state paper was in a better, because a truer tone. It stated, that victory had brought the allies to the Rhine, but they meant to make no farther use of their advantages than to propose to Napoleon a peace, founded on the independence of France, as well as upon that of every other country. "They desired," as this document stated, "that France should be great, powerful, and happy, because the power of France is one of the fundamental bases of the social system in Europe. They were willing to confirm to her an extent of territory, greater than she enjoyed under her ancient kings; but they desired, at the same time, that Europe should enjoy tranquillity. It was, in short, their object to arrange a pacification on such terms as might, by mutual guarantees, and a well-arranged balance of power, preserve Europe in future from the numberless calamities, which, during twenty years, had distracted the world." This public declaration seemed intended to intimate, that the war of the coalition was not as yet directed against the person of Napoleon, or his dynasty, but only against his system of arbitrary supremacy. The allies further declared, that they would not lay down their arms until the political state of Europe should be finally arranged on unalterable principles, and recognised by the sanctity of treaties.

The reply of Buonaparte to Maret's proposition, is contained in a letter from Caulaincourt to Metternich, dated 2d December. It declared that Buonaparte acquiesced in the principle which should rest the proposed pacification on the absolute independence of the states of Europe, so that neither one nor another should in future arrogate sovereignty or supremacy in any form whatsoever, either upon land or sea. It was therefore declared, that his Majesty adhered to the general bases and abstracts communicated by M. St. Aignan. "They will involve," the letter added, "great sacrifices on the part of France, but his Majesty would make them without regret, if, by like sacrifices, England would give the means of arriving at a general peace, honourable for all concerned."[304]

The slightest attention to this document shows that Napoleon, in his pretence of being desirous for peace on the terms held out in the proposals of the allies, was totally insincere. His answer was artfully calculated to mix up with the diminution of his own exorbitant power, the question of the maritime law, on which England and all other nations had acted for many centuries, and which gives to those nations that possess powerful fleets, the same advantage, which those that have great armies enjoy by the law martial. The rights arising out of this law maritime, had been maintained by England at the end of the disastrous American war, when the Armed Neutrality was formed for the express purpose of depriving her, in her hour of weakness, of this bulwark of her naval power. It had been defended during the present war against all Europe, with France and Napoleon at her head. It was impossible that Britain should permit any challenge of her maritime rights in the present moment of her prosperity, when not only her ships rode triumphant on every coast, but her own victorious army was quartered on French ground, and the powerful hosts of her allies, brought to the field by her means, were arrayed along the whole frontier of the Rhine. The Emperor of the French might have as well proposed to make the peace which Europe was offering to him, depend upon Great Britain's ceding Ireland or Scotland.

Neither can it be pretended that there was an indirect policy in introducing this discussion as an apple of discord, which might give cause to disunion among the allies. Far from looking on the maritime law, as exercised by Britain, with the eyes of jealousy, with which it might at other times have been regarded, the continental nations remembered the far greater grievances which had been entailed on them by Buonaparte's memorable attempt to put down that law by his anti-commercial system, which had made Russia herself buckle on her armour, and was a cause, and a principal one, of the general coalition against France. As Buonaparte, therefore, could have no hope to obtain any advantage, direct or indirect, from mixing up the question of maritime rights with that of the general settlement of the continent, and as mere spleen and hatred to Great Britain would be scarce an adequate motive in a mind so sagacious, we must suppose this inadmissible stipulation to have been thrown in for the purpose of enabling him to break off the negotiation when he pleased, and cast upon the English the unpopularity attending the breach of it. It is very true that England had offered to make sacrifices for obtaining a general peace; but these sacrifices, as was seen by the event, regarded the restoration to France of conquered colonies, not the cession of her own naval rights, which, on no occasion whatsoever, a minister of Britain will, can, or dare, permit to be brought into challenge. Accordingly, the acceptance by Buonaparte of the terms transmitted by St. Aignan, being provided with a slip-knot, as it were, by which he could free himself from the engagement at pleasure, was considered, both by the allies, and by a large proportion of the people of France, as elusory, and indicating no serious purpose of pacification. The treaty therefore languished, and was not fairly set on foot until the chance of war had been again appealed to.[305]

In the meanwhile, the allies were bringing up their reserves as fast as possible, and Buonaparte on his side was doing all he could to recruit his forces. His measures for this purpose had been adopted long before the present emergency. As far back as the 9th October, the Empress Maria Louisa, in the character of Regent, presided in a meeting of the Senate, held for the purpose of calling for fresh recruits to the armies. She was an object of interest and compassion to all, when announcing the war which had broken out betwixt her father and her husband; but the following injudicious censure upon her country was put into the mouth of the young sovereign, without much regard to delicacy. "No one," she said, "can know so well as I what the French will have to dread, if they permit the allies to be conquerors." The closing paragraph was also much criticised, as attaching more importance to the personal feelings of the sovereign, than ought to have been exclusively ascribed to them in so great a public extremity. "Having been acquainted for four years with the inmost thoughts of my husband, I know with what sentiments he would be afflicted if placed on a tarnished throne, and wearing a crown despoiled of glory."[306] The decree of the Senate, passive as usual, appointed a levy of 280,000 conscripts.

When Buonaparte arrived at Saint Cloud, after having brought the remains of his once great army to Mayence, his affairs were even in a worse state than had been anticipated. But before we proceed to detail the measures which he took for redeeming them, it is necessary to take notice of two parties in the state, who, in consequence of the decay of the Imperial power, were growing gradually into importance.

The first were the adherents of the Bourbons, who, reduced to silence by the long-continued successes of Buonaparte, still continued to exist, and now resumed their consequence. They had numerous partisans in the west and south of France, and many of them still maintained correspondence with the exiled family. The old noblesse, amongst whom such as did not attach themselves to the court and person of Napoleon, continued to be stanch royalists, had acquired, or rather regained, a considerable influence in Parisian society. The superior elegance of their manners, the seclusion, and almost mystery of their meetings, their courage and their misfortunes, gave an interest to these relics of the history of France, which was increased by the historical remembrances connected with ancient names and high descent. Buonaparte himself, by the restoration of nobility as a rank, gave a dignity to those who had possessed it for centuries, which his own new creations could not impart. It is true, that in the eye of philosophy, the great man who first merits and wins a distinguished title, is in himself infinitely more valuable and respectable than the obscure individual who inherits his honours at the distance of centuries; but then he is valued for his personal qualities, not for his noblesse. No one thought of paying those marshals, whose names and actions shook the world, a greater degree of respect when Napoleon gave them titles. On the contrary, they will live in history, and be familiar to the imagination, by their own names, rather than those arising from their peerages. But the science of heraldry, when admitted as an arbitrary rule of society, reverses the rule of philosophy, and ranks nobility, like medals, not according to the intrinsic value of the metal, but in proportion to its antiquity. If this was the case with even the heroes who had hewed a soldier's path to honours, it was still more so with the titles granted by Buonaparte, "upon carpet consideration," and the knights whom he dubbed with unhacked rapier. It might be truly said of these that

When, therefore, the republican fury died away, and Buonaparte directed the respect of the people at large towards title and nobility, a distinct and superior influence was acquired by those who possessed such honours by hereditary descent. Napoleon knew this, and courted, and in some degree feared, the remainder of the old noblesse, who, unless he could decidedly attach them to his own interest, were exposed to surveillance and imprisonment on circumstances of slight suspicion. They became, however, so circumspect and cautious, that it was impossible to introduce the spies of the police into their salons and private parties. Still Napoleon was sensible of the existence of this party, and of the danger which might attend upon it, even while his followers had forgot perhaps that the Bourbons continued to live. "I thought him mad," said Ney (whose head, according to FouchÉ, could not embrace two political ideas,) "when taking leave of the army at Smorgoni, he used the expression, 'The Bourbons will make their own of this.'"[308]

This party began now to be active, and a Royalist confederation organised itself in the centre of France as early as the month of March, 1813. The most distinguished members are said to have been the Dukes of Duras, TrÉmouille, and Fitzjames; Messrs. de Polignac, Ferrand, Audrien de Montmorency, SosthÈne de la Rochefoucault, Sermaison, and La Rochejacquelein. Royalist commanders had been nominated in different quarters—Count Suzannet in the Lower Poitou, Duras in Orleans and Tours, and the Marquis de RiviÈre in the province of Berry. Bourdeaux was full of Royalists, most of them of the mercantile class, who were ruined by the restrictions of the continental system, and all waited anxiously a signal for action.

Another internal faction, noways desirous of the return of the Bourbons, yet equally inimical to the power of Napoleon, consisted of the old Republican statesmen and leaders, with the more zealous part of their followers. These could not behold with indifference the whole fruits of the Revolution, for which so much misery had been endured, so much blood spilled, so many crimes committed, swept away by the rude hand of a despotic soldier. They saw, with a mixture of shame and mortification, that the issue of all their toils and all their systems had been the monstrous concoction of a military despotism compared with which every other government in Europe might be declared liberal, except perhaps that of Turkey. During the monarchy, so long represented as a system of slavery, public opinion had in the parliaments zealous advocates, and an opportunity of making itself known; but in imperial France all was mute, except the voice of hired functionaries, mere trumpets of the Government, who breathed not a sound but what was suggested to them. A sense of this degraded condition united in secret all those who desired to see a free government in France, and especially such as had been active in the commencement of the Revolution.

This class of politicians could not desire the return of the family in whose exile they had been active, and had therefore cause to fear the re-action with which such an event might be attended; but they wished to get rid of Napoleon, whose government seemed to be alike inconsistent with peace and with liberty. The idea of a regency suggested itself to FouchÉ and others, as a plausible mode of attaining their purpose.[309] Austria, they thought, might be propitiated by giving Maria Louisa the precedence in the council of regency as guardian of her son, who should succeed to the crown when he came to the age of majority. This expedient, it was thought, would give an opportunity, in the meanwhile, to introduce free principles into the constitution. But, while it does not appear how these theorists intended to dispose of Napoleon, it is certain that nothing but his death, captivity, or perpetual exile, would have prevented such a man from obtaining the full management of a regency, in which his wife was to preside in the name of his son.

A great part of the population of France, without having any distinct views as to its future government, were discontented with that of Buonaparte, which, after having drained the country of men and wealth, seemed about to terminate, by subjecting it to the revenge of incensed Europe. When these were told that Buonaparte could not bear to sit upon a tarnished throne, or wear a crown of which the glory was diminished, they were apt to consider how often it was necessary that the best blood of France should be expended in washing the one and restoring the brilliancy of the other. They saw in Napoleon a bold and obstinate man, conscious of having overcome so many obstacles, that he could not endure to admit the existence of any which might be insurmountable. They beheld him obstinately determined to retain every thing, defend every thing, venture every thing, without making the least sacrifice to circumstances, as if he were in his own person independent of the Laws of Destiny, to which the whole universe is subjected. These men felt the oppression of the new taxes, the terrors of the new conscription,[310] and without forming a wish as to the mode in which he was to be succeeded, devoutly desired the Emperor's deposition. But when an end is warmly desired, the means of attaining it soon come to occupy the imagination; and thus many of those who were at first a sort of general malecontents, came to attach themselves to the more decided faction either of the Royalists or Liberalists.

These feelings, varying between absolute hostility to Napoleon, and indifference to his fate, threw a general chillness over the disposition to resist the invasion of the strangers, which Buonaparte had reckoned on as certain to render the war national amongst so high-spirited a people as the French. No effort was spared to dispel this apathy, and excite them to resistance; the presses of the capital and the provinces, all adopted the tone suggested by the Government, and called forth every one to rise in mass for defence of the country. But although, in some places, the peasants were induced to take arms, the nation at large showed a coldness, which can only be accounted for by the general idea which prevailed, that the Emperor had an honourable peace within his power, whenever he should be disposed to accept of it.

In the meantime, new burdens were necessary to pay the expenses of the approaching campaign, and recruit the diminished ranks of the army. Napoleon, indeed, supplied from his own hoards a sum of 30 millions of francs;[311] but, at the same time, the public taxes of the subject were increased by one moiety, without any appeal to, or consultation with the Legislative Body, who, indeed, were not sitting at the time. In a council of state extraordinary, held on the 11th November, two days after his return to Paris, Napoleon vindicated the infliction of this heavy augmentation on a discontented and distressed country. "In ordinary times," he said, "the contributions were calculated at one-fifth of the income of the individual; but, according to the urgency of events, there was no reason why it should not rise to a fourth, a third, or a half of the whole income. In fact," he concluded, "the contribution had no bounds; and if there were any laws intimating the contrary, they were ill-considered laws, and undeserving of attention."[312]

There was then read to the council a decree of the Senate for a new conscription of 300,000 men, to be levied upon those who had escaped the conscription of former years, and who had been considered as exempted from the service. There was a deep and melancholy silence. At length a counsellor spoke, with some hesitation, though it was only to blame the introductory clause of the senatorial decree, which stated the invasion of the frontiers as the cause of this large levy. It was, he suggested, a declaration too much calculated to spread alarm.

"And wherefore," said Napoleon, giving way to his natural vehemence, and indicating more strongly than prudence warranted, the warlike and vindictive purposes which exclusively occupied his breast—"wherefore should not the whole truth be told? Wellington has entered the south; the Russians menace the northern frontier; the Prussians, Austrians, and Bavarians threaten the east. Shame!—Wellington is in France, and we have not risen in mass to drive him back. All my allies have deserted me; the Bavarians have betrayed me—They threw themselves on my rear to cut off my retreat—But they have been slaughtered for their pains. No peace—none till we have burned Munich. A triumvirate is formed in the north, the same which made a partition of Poland. I demand of France 300,000 men—I will form a camp of a 100,000 at Bourdeaux—another at Metz—another at Lyons. With the present levy, and what remains of the last, I will have a million of men. But I must have grown men—not these boy-conscripts, to encumber the hospitals, and die of fatigue upon the highways—I can reckon on no soldiers now save those of France itself."

"Ah, Sire," said one of the assentators, glad to throw in a suggestion which he supposed would suit the mood of the time, "that ancient France must remain to us inviolate."

"And Holland!" answered Napoleon, fiercely. "Abandon Holland? sooner yield it back to the sea. Counsellors, there must be an impulse given—all must march—You are fathers of families, the heads of the nation; it is for you to set the example. They speak of peace; I hear of nothing but peace, when all around should echo to the cry of war."

This was one of the occasions on which Buonaparte's constitutional vehemence overcame his political prudence. We might almost think we hear the voice of the Scandinavian deity Thor, or the war-god of Mexico, clamorous for his victims, and demanding that they be unblemished, and worthy of his bloody altar. But Buonaparte was unable to inspire others with his own martial zeal; they only foresaw that the nation must, according to the system of its ruler, encounter a most perilous danger, and that, even in case of success, when Napoleon reaped laurels, France would only gather cypress. This feeling was chiefly predominant in the Legislative Assembly; as every representative body which emanates, however remotely, from the people, has a natural aptitude to espouse their cause.

It is true, that the Emperor had by every precaution in his power, endeavoured to deprive this part of the state, the only one which had retained the least shadow of popular representation, of every thing approaching to freedom of debate or right of remonstrance, and by a recent act of despotic innovation, had even robbed them of the power of choosing their own president. He is said also to have exerted his authority over individuals by a practice similar to that adopted by James the Second upon members of parliament, called closeting, admitting individuals of the Legislative Body to private interviews, and condescending to use towards them that personal intercession, which, coming from a sovereign, it is so difficult to resist. But these arts proved unsuccessful, and only tended to show to the world that the Legislative Body had independence enough to intimate their desire for peace, while their sovereign was still determined on war. A commission of five of their members, distinguished for wisdom and moderation, were appointed to draw up a report upon the state of the nation, which they did in terms respectful to Napoleon, but such as plainly indicated their conviction that he would act wisely to discontinue his schemes of external ambition, to purchase peace by disclaiming them, and at the same time to restore to the subject some degree of internal liberty. They suggested, that in order to silence the complaints of the allied monarchs, which accused France of aiming at general sovereignty, the Emperor should make a solemn and specific declaration, abjuring all such purposes. They reminded him, that when Louis XIV. desired to restore energy to the nation, he acquainted them with the efforts he had made to obtain peace, and the effect answered his wishes. They recommended the example to Napoleon. It was only necessary, they said, that the nation should be assured, that the war was to be continued for the sole object of the independence of the French people and territory, to reanimate public spirit, and induce all to concur in the general defence. After other arguments tending to enforce the same advice, the report concluded with recommending, that his Majesty should be supplicated to maintain the active and constant execution of the laws, which preserve to Frenchmen the rights of liberty, and security both of person and property, and to the nation the free exercise of its political privileges.[313]

Like the mute prince, who recovered his speech when his father's life was endangered, the extremity of the national distress thus gave the power of remonstrance to a public body which had hitherto been only the passive agents of the will of a despotic sovereign. Yet comparing the nature of the remonstrance with the period of extremity at which it was made, Napoleon must have felt somewhat in the situation of the patriarch of Uz, the friends of whose former prosperity came in the moment of his greatest distresses with reproaches instead of assistance. The Legislative Body had been at least silent and acquiescent during the wonderful period of Buonaparte's success, and they now chose that of his adversity to give him unpalateable advice, instead of aiding in this emergency to inspire the nation with confidence. A philosophical monarch would nevertheless have regarded the quality of the course recommended more than the irritating circumstances of time and manner in which it was given; and would have endeavoured, by frank confidence and concessions, to reconcile himself with the Legislative Body. An artful and Machiavelian despot would have temporized with the deputies, and yielded for the time, with the purpose of afterwards recovering, at a fitting period, whatever point he might at present be obliged to cede. But Napoleon, too impetuous for either policy or philosophy, gave way to the full vehemence of a resentment, which, though unreasonable and imprudent, was certainly, considering those to whom it was addressed, by no means unnatural. He determined instantly to prorogue the Assembly, which had indicated such symptoms of opposition.[314] Their hall was, therefore, shut against them, and guarded with soldiers, while the deputies, summoned before the throne of the Emperor, received the following singular admonition:—"I have prohibited the printing of your address, because it is seditious. Eleven parts of you are good citizens, but the twelfth consists of rebels, and your commissioners are of the number. LainÉ corresponds with the Prince Regent of England; the others are hotheaded fools, desirous of anarchy, like the Girondists, whom such opinions led to the scaffold. Is it when the enemy are on the frontiers that you demand an alteration of the constitution? Rather follow the example of Alsace and Franche ComtÉ, where the inhabitants ask for leaders and arms to drive the invaders back. You are not the representatives of the people—you are only the representatives of the individual departments.... Yet you seek in your address to draw a distinction betwixt the sovereign and the people. I—I am the only real representative of the people. Which of you could support such a burden?—The throne is merely a piece of wood covered with velvet. I—I alone hold the place of the people. If France desires another species of constitution, which does not suit me, I will tell her to seek another monarch. It is at me the enemies aim, more than at France; but are we, therefore, to sacrifice a part of France? Do I not sacrifice my self-love, and my feelings of superiority, to obtain peace? Think you I speak proudly? If I do, I am proud because I have courage, and because France owes her grandeur to me. Yes—your address is unworthy of the Legislative Body, and of me. Begone to your homes. I will cause your address to be published in the Moniteur, with such notes as I shall furnish. Even if I had done wrong, you ought not to have reproached me with it thus publicly. People do not wash their dirty linen before the world. To conclude, France has more need of me than I have of France."[315]

With this philippic, which we have but slightly compressed, he spurned the members of the Legislative Body from his presence.[316] It displays in a remarkable degree his natural vehemence of temper; his view of the constitution as a drama, in which he filled up every part, and performed at once the part of the prince and of the people; his consciousness of his own extraordinary powers, which he boldly weighed in the balance against all France; and the coarse and mean taste of some of his expressions. The suspension of the Legislative Body, the only part, we repeat, of the Imperial constitution which had the least pretence to a popular origin, was not qualified to increase the confidence of the public, who now saw want of unity between the Emperor and the popular representatives, added to the other threatening circumstances of the time, and became yet more distracted in their opinions, and unwilling to exert themselves for the common defence.

To give a more favourable impulse to the mind of the nation, Napoleon had recourse to an expedient which, in the time of the Republic, had been attended with universal effect. He sent special commissioners, twenty-seven in number, into the different departments, to arouse the dormant energies of the inhabitants, and induce them to take up arms. But the senators and counsellors, chosen for this purpose, were altogether void of the terrible energies of the Republican proconsuls; and, though endowed like them with the most arbitrary powers, they had neither the furious zeal, nor the contempt of all the prejudices of humanity, which had been displayed by those ferocious demagogues. Their mission, therefore, produced but little effect. The conscription, too, failed to be the ready source of levies which it had so often proved. The lancet had been so often used, that the blood no longer followed it so readily.

The unceasing activity of Napoleon laboured to supply these deficiencies. By day he was incessantly engaged in actively reviewing troops, inspecting stores, and all the preparations for a desperate resistance. By night, the lights were seen to glimmer late and long in the windows of his private apartment, in the upper story of the Tuileries.[317] He succeeded in levying twelve fresh regiments, and prepared to augment his veteran force by withdrawing Suchet from Catalonia, and making draughts from Soult's army on the frontiers, which he designed to supply by fresh levies.

The Moniteur, and the other newspapers, magnified the success of the Emperor's exertions, described armies in reserve which had no existence, and dilated upon the beau desespoir which was driving all France to arms, while, in fact, most of the provinces waited with apathy the events of the war.

One of the strongest symptoms of Napoleon's own consciousness of approaching danger, was his calling out and arming the national guard of Paris, a force to which he would not have appealed, save in the case of the last necessity, but to which he now felt himself obliged to have recourse. Aware, however, that to mark any want of confidence in the armed citizens at this moment, would be to give occasion to the disaffection which he dreaded, he solemnized his departure to the frontier by convoking a meeting of the officers of the national guard at the Tuileries. He appeared among them with his Empress and his infant child, and in a tone which penetrated every bosom, announced that, being about to place himself at the head of his army, he committed to the faith of the citizens of Paris, the security of his capital, his wife, and his child. Whatever complaints might be justly entertained against Napoleon's political conduct, none were so ungenerous as to remember them at that moment. Many of the officers shared in the emotion which he testified, and some mingled their tears with those of the alarmed and sorrowing Empress.[318]

This scene took place on the 23d of January; on the 25th,[319] Napoleon left that abode of royalty, to which he was doomed not to return until he had undergone strange changes of fortune. His mind was agitated with unusual apprehensions and anticipations of misfortune; feeling also, what was unsuspected by many, that the real danger of his situation arose from the probability of the nation's wishing to recall the Bourbons. He had even, according to his own account, resolved to arrest "the person of a man of great influence,"[320] whom he supposed most likely to promote this design. His counsellors persuaded him to forbear this arbitrary action at a moment when his power was becoming daily more obnoxious, and reminded him that the suspected person had as much reason to fear the restoration of the Bourbons as he himself had. The Emperor yielded the point, but not without strongly repeating his fears that his advisers and himself would both have to repent of it; and not without charging CambacÉrÈs to make sure of that individual's person in case any crisis should take place in the capital.

Thus, full of melancholy presages, he hastened to the field, where he had but inadequate means to oppose to the accumulated force which was now precipitating itself upon France.