Nor did the other powers in Europe show themselves more accessible to his advances. He was, therefore, reduced to his own partisans in the French nation, and those won over from other parties, whom he might be able to add to them.
The army had sufficiently shown themselves to be his own, upon grounds which are easily appreciated. The host of public official persons, to whom the name under which they exercised their offices was indifferent, provided the salary continued to be attached to them, formed a large and influential body. And although we, who have never, by such mutations of our political system, been put to the trial of either abandoning our means of living, or submitting to a change of government, may, on hearing quoted names of respectability and celebrity who adopted the latter alternative, exclaim against French versatility, a glance at Britain during the frequent changes of the 17th century, may induce us to exchange the exclamation of poor France! for that of poor human nature! The professors of Cromwell's days, who piously termed themselves followers of Providence, because they complied with every change that came uppermost; and the sect of time-servers, including the honest patriot, who complained at the Restoration that he had complied with seven forms of government during the year, but lost his office by being too late of adhering to the last—would have made in their day a list equally long, and as entertaining, as the celebrated Dictionnaire de Girouettes. In matters dependent upon a sudden breeze of sentiment, the mercurial Frenchman is more apt to tack about than the phlegmatic and slowly-moved native of Britain; but when the steady trade-wind of interest prevails for a long season, men in all nations and countries show the same irresistible disposition to trim their sails by it; and in politics as in morals, it will be well to pray against being led into temptation.
STATE OF PARTIES.
Besides those attached to him by mere interest, or from gratitude and respect for his talents, Napoleon had now among his adherents, or rather allies, not as a matter of choice, but of necessity, the Jacobin party, who had been obliged, though unwillingly, to adopt him as the head of a government, which they hoped to regenerate. To these were to be added a much larger and more respectable body, who, far from encouraging his attempt, had testified themselves anxious to oppose it to the last, but who, conceiving the cause of the Bourbons entirely lost, were willing to adhere to Buonaparte, on condition of obtaining a free constitution for France. Many of these acted, of course, on mixed motives; but if we were asked to form a definition of them, we should be induced to give the same, which, laying aside party spirit, we should ascribe to a right English Whig, whom we conceive to be a man of sense and moderation, a lover of laws and liberty, whose chief regard to particular princes and families is founded on what he apprehends to be the public good; and who differs from a sensible Tory so little, that there is no great chance of their disputing upon any important constitutional question, if it is fairly stated to both. Such, we believe, is the difference betwixt rational Constitutionalists and Royalists in France; and, undoubtedly, while all the feelings of the latter induced them to eye with abhorrence the domination of a usurper, there must have been many of the former, who, fearing danger to the independence of France from the intervention of foreign powers, conceived, that by advocating the cause of Napoleon, they were in some degree making a virtue of necessity, and playing an indifferent game with as much skill as the cards they held would permit. Many patriotic and sensible men, who had retained a regard for liberty during all the governments and all the anarchies which had subsisted for twenty years, endeavoured now to frame a system of government, grounded upon something like freedom, upon the difficulties of Buonaparte. Pressed as he was from abroad, and unsupported at home, save by the soldiery, he would, they conceived, be thrown by necessity under the protection of the nation, and obliged to recruit his adherents by complying with public opinion, and adopting a free government. Under this persuasion a great number of such characters, more or less shaded by attachment to a moderate and limited monarchy, were prepared to acknowledge Buonaparte's re-established authority, in so far as he should be found to deserve it, by concessions on his part.
The conduct and arguments of another portion of the friends of the constitution, rather resembled that which might have been adopted in England by moderate and intelligent Tories. Such men were not prepared to resign the cause of their lawful monarch, because fortune had for a time declared against him. They were of opinion, that to make a constitution permanent, the monarch must have his rights ascertained and vindicated, as well as those of the people; and that if a usurper were to be acknowledged upon any terms, however plausible, so soon as he had cut his way to success by his sword, the nation would be exposed to perpetual revolutions. Louis, these men might argue, had committed no crime whatever; he was only placed in circumstances which made some persons suppose he might possibly be tempted to meditate changes on the constitution, and on the charter which confirmed it. There was meanness in deserting a good and peaceable king at the command of a revolted army, and a discarded usurper. They regretted that their prince must be replaced by foreign bayonets; yet it was perhaps better that a moderate and peaceful government should be restored even thus, than that the French nation should continue to suffer under the despotic tyranny of their own soldiery. Those reasoners ridiculed the idea of a free constitution, which was to be generated betwixt Buonaparte, who, in his former reign, never allowed freedom of thought, word, or action, to exist unrepressed, and the old Revolutionists, who, during their period of power, could be satisfied with no degree of liberty until they destroyed every compact which holds civil society together, and made the country resemble one great bedlam, set on fire by the patients, who remained dancing in the midst of the flames.
Such we conceive to have been the principles on which wise and moderate men on either side acted during this distracted period. It is easy to suppose, that their opinions must have been varied by many more and less minute shades, arising from temperament, predilections, prejudices, passions, and feelings of self-interest, and that they were on either side liable to be pushed into exaggeration, or, according to the word which was formed to express that exaggeration—into Ultraism.
Meantime, Napoleon did all that was possible to conciliate the people's affection, and to show himself sincerely desirous of giving France the free constitution which he had promised. He used the advice of Carnot, Siêyes, and Fouché, and certainly profited by several of their lessons. He made it, notwithstanding, a condition, that Carnot and Siêyes should accept each a title and a seat in his House of Peers, to show that they were completely reconciled to the Imperial government; and both the ancient republicans condescended to exchange the bonnet rouge, for a coronet, which, considering their former opinions, sate somewhat awkwardly upon their brows.
But although the union of the Imperialists and popular party had been cemented by mutual hatred of the Bourbons, and was still kept together by apprehension of the King's adherents within, and his allies on the exterior, seeds of discord were soon visible between the Emperor and the popular leaders. While the former was eager once more to wield with full energy the sceptre he had recovered, the latter were continually reminding him, that he had only assumed it in a limited and restricted capacity, as the head of a free government, exercising, indeed, its executive power, but under the restraint of a popular constitution. Napoleon, in the frequent disputes which arose on these important points, was obliged to concede to the demagogues the principles which they insisted upon. But then, for the safety of the state, involved in foreign and domestic dangers, he contended it was necessary to invest the chief magistrate with a vigour beyond the law, a dictatorial authority, temporary in its duration, but nearly absolute in its extent, as had been the manner in the free states of antiquity, when the republic was in imminent danger. Carnot and Fouché, on the other hand, considered, that although it seemed natural, and might be easy, to confer such power at the present moment, the resumption of it by the nation, when it was once vested in the hands of Buonaparte, would be a hopeless experiment. The Emperor, therefore, and his ministers, proceeded to their mutual tasks with no mutual confidence; but, on the contrary, with jealousy, thinly veiled by an affectation of deference on the side of Buonaparte, and respect on that of his counsellors.
LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.
The very first sacrifice which the Emperor gave to freedom proved an inconvenient one to his government. This was nothing less than the freedom of the press. It is true, that the influence of his minister of police managed by indirect means to get possession of most of the journals; so that of sixty writers, employed generally, if not constantly, in periodical composition, five only were now found friendly to the royal cause. The other pens, which a few days before described Napoleon as a species of Ogre, who had devoured the youth of France, now wrote him down a hero and a liberator. Still, when the liberty of the press was once established, it was soon found impossible to prevent it from asserting its right of utterance; and there were found authors to advocate the cause of the Bourbons, from principle, from caprice, from the love of contradiction.