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]
CHAPTER XVIII.
Proceedings of Buonaparte in order to consolidate his power—His great success—Causes that led to it—Cambacérès and Le Brun chosen Second and Third Consuls—Talleyrand appointed Minister for Foreign Affairs, and Fouché Minister of Police—Their Characters—Other Ministers nominated—Various Changes made, in order to mark the Commencement of a new Era—Napoleon addresses a Letter personally to the King of England—Answered by Lord Grenville—Negotiation for Peace that followed, speedily broken off—Campaigns in Italy, and on the Rhine—Successes of Moreau—Censured by Napoleon for Over-caution—The Charge considered—The Chief Consul resolves to bring back, in Person, Victory to the French Standards in Italy—His Measures for that purpose.
The structure of government which Buonaparte had selected out of the broken outlines of the plan of Siêyes, being not only monarchical but despotic, it remained that its offices should be filled with persons favourable to the new order of things; and to this the attention of Buonaparte was especially turned. In order to secure the selection of the official individuals to himself, he eluded entirely the principle by which Siêyes had proposed to elaborate his national representatives out of the various signed lists of eligibility, to be made up by the three classes into which his hierarchy divided the French people. Without waiting for these lists of eligible persons, or taking any other rule but his own pleasure, and that of his counsellors, the two new consuls, Buonaparte named sixty senators; the senators named a hundred tribunes, and three hundred legislators; and thus the whole bodies of the State were filled up, by a choice emanating from the executive government, instead of being vested, more or less directly, in the people.
In availing himself of the privileges which he had usurped, the first consul, as we must now call him, showed a moderation as artful as it was conciliatory. His object was to avoid the odium of appearing to hold his rank by his military character only. He desired, on the contrary, to assemble round him a party, in which the predominant character of individuals, whatever it had hitherto been, was to be merged in that of the new system; as the statuary throws into the furnace broken fragments of bronze of every various description, without regarding their immediate appearance or form, his purpose being to unite them by fusion, and bestow upon the mass the new shape which his art destines it to represent.
With these views, Napoleon said to Siêyes, who reprobated the admission of Fouché into office and power, "we are creating a new era. Of the past, we must forget the bad, and only remember the good. Time, habits of business, and experience, have formed many able men, and modified many characters."[510] These words may be regarded as the key-note of his whole system. Buonaparte did not care what men had been formerly, so that they were now disposed to become that which was suitable for his interest, and for which he was willing to reward them liberally. The former conduct of persons of talent, whether in politics or morality, was of no consequence, providing they were willing, now, faithfully to further and adhere to the new order of things. This prospect of immunity for the past, and reward for the future, was singularly well calculated to act upon the public mind, desirous as it was of repose, and upon that of individuals, agitated by so many hopes and fears as the Revolution had set afloat. The consular government seemed a general place of refuge and sanctuary to persons of all various opinions, and in all various predicaments. It was only required of them, in return for the safety which it afforded, that they should pay homage to the presiding deity.
So artfully was the system of Buonaparte contrived, that each of the numerous classes of Frenchmen found something in it congenial to his habits, his feelings, or his circumstances, providing only he was willing to sacrifice to it the essential part of his political principles. To the Royalist, it restored monarchical forms, a court, and a sovereign—but he must acknowledge that sovereign in Buonaparte. To the churchman, it opened the gates of the temples, removed the tyranny of the persecuting philosophers—promised in course of time a national church—but by the altar must be placed the image of Buonaparte. The Jacobin, dyed double red in murder and massacre, was welcome to safety and security from the aristocratic vengeance which he had so lately dreaded. The regicide was guaranteed against the return of the Bourbons—they who had profited by the Revolution as purchasers of national domains, were ensured against their being resumed. But it was under the implied condition, that not a word was to be mentioned by those ci-devant democrats, of liberty or equality: the principles for which forfeitures had been made, and revolutionary tribunals erected, were henceforth never to be named. To all these parties, as to others, Buonaparte held out the same hopes under the same conditions—"All these things will I give you, if you will kneel down and worship me." Shortly afterwards, he was enabled to place before those to whom the choice was submitted, the original temptation in its full extent—a display of the kingdoms of the earth, over which he offered to extend the empire of France, providing always he was himself acknowledged as the object of general obedience, and almost adoration.