I will here insert some notes which I have collected at various times, relative to the new plans projected by the Emperor, not only in the army, but on many other points essential to social organization.
The Emperor often observed that he intended, on the establishment of peace, to induce the Powers of Europe to make an immense reduction in their standing armies. He wished that each sovereign should limit himself to his guard, as the skeleton of the army, to be raised in case of necessity. He intended, should he have found himself compelled to keep up a numerous army in time of peace, to employ the troops in public works, and to have disciplined and provisioned them on a peculiar plan.
He said he had found that, in his plans of campaigns and expeditions, the greatest difficulty arose from the modern method of provisioning troops; by which it was necessary first to find corn, then to get it ground, and next to have the flour made into bread. The Roman custom, which he highly approved, and which he had intended to introduce wholly or in part, would have obviated all these inconveniences. “By the adoption of the ancient plan,” said he, “an army might have marched to the end of the world. But, it would require time to bring about such a transition. It could not have been accomplished by a mere order of the day. I had long entertained the idea of such a change; but however great might have been my power, I should never have attempted to introduce it by force. There is no subordination with empty stomachs. Such an object could only have been effected in time of peace, and by insensible degrees: I should have accomplished it by creating new military manners.”
The Emperor constantly insisted on subjecting the whole nation to the laws of the conscription. “I am inexorable on the subject of exemption,” said he, one day in the Council of State;—“it would be criminal. How could I reconcile it to my conscience to expose the life of one man for the advantage of another? I do not even think I would exempt my own son.” On another occasion, he said, “The conscription is the everlasting root of a nation, its moral purification, the real foundation of its habits. By means of the conscription,” he added, “the nation was classed according to its real interests for defence abroad, and tranquillity at home. Organized, built up in this way, the French people might have defied the world, and might with justice have renewed the saying of the proud Gauls:—If the sky should fall, we will prop it up with our lances.”
According to Napoleon’s plans, the conscription, so far from impeding education, would have been the means of promoting it. He intended to have established, in each regiment, a school for the commencement or continuation of instruction of every kind, either in science, the liberal arts, or mere mechanics. “And nothing would have been so easy,” he remarked. “The principle once adopted, we should have seen each regiment supplied with all that was necessary, out of its own ranks. And what advantages would have accrued to the mass of society by the dispersion of these young men, with their acquired knowledge, even had it been merely elementary, and the habits necessarily produced by it!”
The Emperor one day, in the course of conversation, observed that, if he had had leisure there were few institutions in which he would not have made improvements. He dwelt on the evils arising from lawsuits, which, he said, were an absolute leprosy, a social cancer. “My code,” said he, “had singularly diminished lawsuits, by placing numerous causes within the comprehension of every individual. But there still remained much for the legislator to accomplish. Not that he could hope to prevent men from quarrelling: this they have done in all ages; but he might have prevented a third party in society from living upon the quarrels of the other two and even stirring up disputes to promote their own interest. It was, therefore, my intention to establish the rule that lawyers should never receive fees except when they gained causes. Thus, what litigations would have been prevented! On the first examination of a cause, a lawyer would have rejected it, had it been at all doubtful. There would have been no fear that a man, living by his labour, would have undertaken to conduct a lawsuit, from mere motives of vanity; and if he had, he would himself have been the only sufferer in case of failure. But my idea was opposed by a multitude of objections, and as I had no time to lose, I postponed the further consideration of the subject. Yet I am still convinced,” added he, “that the scheme might, with certain modifications, have been turned to the best account.”
When speaking of the clergy, the Emperor remarked that he intended to have rendered curates a very important and useful class of men. “The more enlightened they are,” said he, “the less will they be inclined to abuse their ministry.” Therefore, in addition to their theological studies, he wished them to acquire a knowledge of agriculture and the elements of medicine and law. “Thus,” said he, “dogmatism and controversy, the battle-horse and the arms of fools and fanatics, would gradually have become more and more rare in the pulpit, whence would have been promulgated the doctrines of pure morality, always pleasing, eloquent, and persuasive. As men usually love to discourse on what they know, the clergy would have instructed the peasantry in their agricultural labours, counselled them against chicanery, and given advice to the sick. Such pastors would have been real blessings to their flocks; and, as they would have been allowed a liberal stipend, they would have enjoyed high consideration: they would have respected themselves, and would have been respected by all. They would have possessed the power of feudal lords, and they might, without danger, have exercised all their influence. A curate would have been a natural justice of peace, a true moral chief, to whom the direction of the population might have been safely intrusted, because he would himself have been dependent on the Government for his appointment and salary. If to all this be added the study and privation necessary for the calling, and supposing the individuals to be possessed of good qualities of heart and mind, it must be confessed that pastors, thus constituted, would have produced a revolution in society highly advantageous to the cause of morality.”
I recollect having heard the Emperor, in the Council of State, declaim against the perquisites of ministers of the Gospel, and point out the indecorum of their trafficking, as he said, with sacred, and yet indispensable, objects. He therefore proposed putting an end to this practice. “By rendering the acts of religion gratuitous,” he observed, “we shall make their dignity, beneficence, and charity more conspicuous; and confer a great benefit on the poor. Nothing would be easier than to substitute legal imposts for these perquisites. Every one is born, many marry, and all die; and yet births, marriages, and deaths, are three great subjects of religious jobbing, which, in my opinion, are particularly objectionable, and which I would wish to abolish. Since these are matters which concern all equally, why not place them under a special impost, or include them among the subjects of general taxation?” This proposal had no result.
I also recollect having heard the Emperor suggest that all public functionaries, and men employed under Government, even officers in the army, should themselves form a fund for their future pensions, by a slight deduction from their annual salaries. “Thus,” said he, “the future support of these individuals would no longer be an object of solicitation or a favour; it would be a right. The deductions made from their salaries would be thrown into a sinking fund, liable to this application. It would be a certain property, which they might regard as their own, and upon which they might draw, without opposition, on retiring from the public service.” It was urged, in objection, that there were incomes, those of military officers in particular, that would not admit of deduction.—“Well,” replied the Emperor, “I will make up the deficiency, I will add whatever is necessary for the deduction.”—“But,”[“But,”] it was asked, “what end will that answer? If we have to pay the same amount, where will be the economy? where will be the advantage?”—“The advantage,” replied the Emperor, “will be in the difference between certainty and uncertainty; between the settled course of the treasury, which would no longer have occasion to concern itself about these accidents, and the tranquillity of citizens, who would thus possess their guarantee.”
The Emperor warmly defended this idea, and adverted to it oftener than once; it however produced no result. I have already remarked that I have often known him to enter upon extempore discussions in this way, and even to comment on others after they were printed.