XXV.
It is only distance in time that separates and distinguishes the Caligulas of history, the early, medieval, and present periods. History exhibits the first as the undisguised monster of atrocity. The last, overshadowed by the mantle of the law, stands but partially revealed.
To the perverted imaginations of the first the senate presented no force of resistance. To the petulant asperity, the abuse of power of the last, the doubtful liberties of the people imposed certain restrictions, which led to the resort of narrow and malignant minds—secrecy and concealment.
Nature had not cast him in the mould of those statesmen who sacrifice all personal feelings for the public good, and who willingly yield up their lives to advance the noble work of true civilization. Obstinacy with him was firmness; cunning, depth; resistance to humane feelings, resolution. Envy, hatred, murmurs, were braved with inflexible determination when pursuing his plans of favoritism, or defending his tools of oppression and cruelty against the voice of nature and outraged liberty.
There are some men who appear to be destined for the instruction of the world, as the abettors and satellites of despotism, who cannot or who do not recognize the difference between interest or conscience; who desire to debase mankind, that they may appear above the common level of humanity, conscious of their incapability of lifting themselves up by virtue and by nobility of action.
This man was the incarnation of the spirit of Slavery; he could have exclaimed, with Barnave, “Perish the colonies rather than a principle.” This man was, for the time being, the entire incorporation of the sedition—its principles, its passions, its impulses, its cruelties.
“There are abysses which we dare not sound, and characters we desire not to fathom, for fear of finding in them too great darkness, too much horror.”
This man, so calm, so dignified, so wise in his exterior, could not find sufficient generosity in his soul, although the representative of five millions of men, to say to these armies of suffering prisoners, * * * indignus Cæsaris iræ—unworthy of the anger of Cæsar.
XXVI.
What have the wretches to offer in atonement for these outrages upon nature, these violations of the spirit and majesty of the law, from which they now claim protection?