crime, and we discern no very distinct line echo of it glory. But this is the French of demarcation between those who are notion. They think it extremely glorious guilty of such indifference, and those who just now to roast a whole tribe of Arabs take part with them against the people. alive, or wall up thousands of them in a Few studies in politics can be more in-cavern, to perish slowly of hunger, or by structive than that of the planting and each other's hands. They think it glorious growth of what the French, with ridiculous also to send their sons and brothers, by a affectation, call the Monarchy of July. In hundred thousand at a time, to knock their the accomplishment of this undertaking, heads against Mount Atlas, and perish in M. Capefigue's work may be useful. It the sands of Africa, for the purpose of givwould be quite absurd to regard it, with ing expansion to the fighting gas which the author, as a history of Europe from might otherwise take fire and explode nearthe accession of Louis Philippe. It is not er home, to the no small danger of Louis even a history of France. It is simply a Philippe's dynasty. But perhaps the height partial exposition of the arts and contriv- of glory, the delicate apex of that sort of ances by which the present sovereign of passion, is to place paper and ink at the that country has succeeded in setting up a command of a dozen sophists, with the unnew dynasty, and weaning his subjects from derstanding that they are to expend all the the love of liberty and independence. Most tropes and figures with which the Polytechstatesmen are of opinion that the passion nic School or the Sorbonne may have enfor freedom is only a paroxysm among the riched their memories, in vilifying, libelFrench, and that the normal state of their ling, and vituperating Perfidious Albion. feelings is an absorbing predilection for Knowing these little harmless foibles of glittering and ostentatious authority. This the people over whom he was called to at least is the settled opinion of Louis reign, Lous Philippe seriously set himself, Philippe, who has made it the basis of his from the very outset, about putting in pracwhole policy, domestic and foreign. He tice the arts by which he could alone hope believes that the French are willing to to render them happy. He knew it to be forego the advantages of free institutions, one of their crotchets that they would like provided they can be enabled to enjoy a to be free, and it cost him very little labor sufficient amount of drum-beating, waving to manufacture certain forms of liberty, of flags, marching and countermarching, which would of course serve their purpose and be regaled from time to time with the just as well as the reality. It was likewise smell of powder and blood. All these quite easy to satisfy the popular leaders, things are collectively signified by the word who would think themselves honestly laborglory. There is, of course, an immense ing in the cause of democracy, if raised to amount of this article in the sound produced office and power, and enabled from time to by two sticks descending on a tight piece time to indulge the people with flaming of parchment; there is still more of it in eulogiums on their heroism and idolatry of unfolding a large square of parti-colored glory. Democracy in France means talksilk, and holding it up to flutter in the air; ing about the people, and serving one's and there is an infinitely greater quantity self. Panegyrics cost little, particularly to still in applying fire to a little pile of saltpe- those who are used to the manufacture of tre and charcoal, and thereby giving motion the article, and Louis Philippe commissionto a spherical piece of lead, for the purpose ed all his popular supporters to keep the of perforating the skull, or epidermis, and enthusiastic folks of Paris in good humer fibres, and respiratory organs of a biped. by all manner of rhodomontade. He fore When men do these things under the saw what would be the issue of the busiconviction that they are necessary to theirness, and that he should be able to let the freedom, the greatness of the end appears heroes down softly from the slippery pinto sanctify the means. Red cloth and friz-nacle to which the surge of the Revolution zled worsted then assume a respectable had lifted them.

look, and we denominate the wearer of It is not just now in our power to pause them a soldier, because, for a moderate to describe minutely all the means by which amount of pay he is soldé or hired to fight this exemplary monarch managed succesin defence of his country's institutions. It sively to deliver himself from his old is a wholly different thing when men put on friends. A man so illustrious, so fortunate uniforms, and play with lead and gunpow-in the acquisition of power, so lofty by his der, merely to make a noise, and call the position, so mentally enriched by study and VOL. VII.-No. III.

22

was painful for him to recognize even secretly that he had met with his superior in the virtues of diplomacy. It was for this reason chiefly, that he desired the embassy

reflection, should be above the weakness of the sphere of his master's influence. It friendship. In the serenity of those elevated regions which princes inhabit, the passions that disturb the tranquillity of the canaille ought to have no place. Every person there takes care of one individual, to London rather than any post in the cabiand universal contentment is the result. net. To describe a man living in perfect ince- It is no doubt true, also, as M. Capefigue pendence, the people of a different class observes, that Talleyrand hated the people often say of him, that when his hat is on, and every thing popular, and loved to be his house is thatched. So exactly is it with buried either in the obscurity of an office princes. Every one of them is a perfect or in the misty glitter of a saloon. But the whole, teres atque rotundus, so that when historian does not, apparently, comprehend his own microcosm is nestled snugly under the reason of this idiosyncracy, which we the wing of fortune, all the rest of the world shall endeavor therefore to explain. Lax may go to the devil, if they think proper. principles of morals, epicurean indifference In strict accordance with this theory to good and evil, which some philosophers acted his majesty Louis Philippe. As a have dignified by the name of equanimity, great statesman and a wise prince, he could aversion from strong emotions, trace their not but know that friends are mere incum- origin to some defect in the physical orbrances, unless they can be made to serve ganization. What may be denominated as stepping stones from a lower to a higher the defensive passions, as fear, caution, level of society. The man who aims at hatred, revenge, are strong in such persons; power, should never entangle himself with while the attractive and expansive passions, inextricable relations, but hold every one. as love, friendship, patriotism, are feeble about him by a slip-knot, which, when it or inactive. They, therefore, like spiders, suits his purpose, he can let go at a mo- delight to wrap themselves in the web of ment's notice. In this admirable art the their own artifices, and lie in wait for men, new king was a great proficient. He felt that they may trip them up in the dark. the most profound contempt for the rest of Mobs, public assemblies, parliaments, are the world, and was even wiser than Pistol, hateful to them, because they dislike meetwho regarded the whole system as his oyster, ing with opposition face to face, and also which he as he said with sword would open. because they cherish an instinctive fear of Louis Philippe's wisdom, we say, was of a popular men, who are commonly bold and higher quality than this. He despised the energetic. This in part, at least, explains sword, because he felt himself to be in poses- the repugnance of our countryman Hobbes sion of an instrument far more delicate and for the institutions of a free commonwealth, finely tempered, with which, like another and the anxiety of Talleyrand to sneak adept of his fraternity, he would confidently away from Paris, and place himself out of have undertaken to wheedle the devil, had hearing of the tumultuous voice of the his majesty been weak enough to believe in populace. such an entity. He knew much better, But in whatever way we explain the fact, but undertook and accomplished a task of certain it is that Louis Philippe contrived to equal difficulty, when he enlisted Talley-rid himself of Talleyrand, and at the same rand in the service of the new dynasty. time to turn his unscrupulous morality to That old gentleman was chiefly formi- account, by despatching him to the court dable from the perfect laxity of his charac- of St. James's, where he could engage in ter. All affections, principles, and sense of the congenial employment of doing misduty dropped through him like water chief, and amuse himself with repeating through a seive. He was bound by noth- the hackneyed tricks of diplomacy. Here ing, and to nothing. His only pleasure in in London, however, he was held in no high life was to delude as many people as he estimation by statesmen; the minister who could, to practise universal hypocrisy, to had most to do with him, and knew him raise himself, if possible, and if not, to best, thought meanly of his abilities, and keep other people down. When brought considered him much better adapted to into contact with Louis Philippe, this Cory- shine in the confined and murky atmosphæus of knaves felt that he was over-phere of a continental court, where genius matched, and experienced a strong anxiety itself is dwarfed and paralyzed by the influto be removed as far as possible beyond ence of despotism, than to carry on public

business in a free country like this, where | persuade themselves that they do not deif statesmen over-reach their rivals at all, it serve their advancement. They, therefore, is by dint of shere openness and candor in soon learn to imagine, that as they exercise which men accustomed to fraud can put no supreme authority, so ought they to monopfaith, and therefore suppose them to con-olize all endowments and all fame. They ceal something else which they vainly tor-are above all things jealous of their rivals in ture themselves to discover. popularity. To be esteemed by the people Talleyrand, we say, was regarded in Lon-is to trench upon their prerogative, to stand don as a wicked old woman, abounding in before them, to eclipse them, and ultimately scandalous gossip, full of tricks, artful to to deprive them of the affections of the the last degree in the fabrication of frivo-country. This made Tiberius abhor his lous impostures. While he was hugging triumphant generals, and regulated Louis himself, therefore, in the belief of his own Philippe's machinations to effect the overimpenetrability, he was earwigged, hoaxed, throw of the popular leaders, whose folly and baffled, by more than one British di- had placed him over their heads. plomatist. Nevertheless, there are still left It is not, meanwhile, our intention to absome public men, who cherish a sort of tra-solve the victims of Louis Philippe's craft ditionary respect for this old sinner, whose from all blame. They were many of them inferiority is irrefragably established by this, weak, vain, grasping, and overbearing. that he was incapable of noble thoughts, They should have understood their situaand could not comprehend an elevated the-tion better. Experience ought to have ory of humanity. The corrupt and ignoble taught them that a throne, like the seat of never can, whatever may be their abilities. the Delphian priestess, inspires all who sit A man truly great, must put faith in human on it with supernatural wisdom, and that greatness, because he derives from himself frankly to advise a king, therefore, is like his archetype of humanity. He at least attempting to intermeddle with the laws of knows what thoughts and aspirations inha-nature. They had undertaken to reconcile bit his own soul, he discovers there no taint contradictions, to wed democracy to royalof meanness; he loves his country and histy, to give supremacy at once to the will of kind, because it is his pleasure to love them, the people, and to that of the sovereign. because he knows that the counterpart of But one result could consequently follow. his own greatness and goodness must exist Louis Philippe felt secretly persuaded, and external to himself. All the elements of perhaps justly, that they repented of having grandeur are concentrated in this ennobling made him king, and would soon be engacreed, which is firmly believed in by none ged in endeavoring to unmake him; while, but the chiefs of human kind. Talleyrand, on the other hand, they felt that their presin common with all other knaves, repudi-ence was irksome to the new court, because ated it utterly. He felt his own intrinsic it always seemed to wear an air of importuworthlessness, and sought to avenge him-nity; and that persons who had done noself on the rest of the world, by being scep- thing for the monarch, were for that very tical in regard to their virtues. reason more agreeable to him.

Our object, however, is not to paint the character of this vacillating and hackneyed diplomatist, but cursorily to indicate the manner in which Louis Philippe, after his accession to the throne, eased his shoulders of the burden of obligation, through whatever motive conferred upon him. It has, we believe, been said, that from gratitude to hatred there is but one step. This is more especially true in the case of princes; they always hate such of their subjects as have done them greater services than they can repay. In their presence, they feel themselves to be in some sort their inferiors, because in the reckoning of honor they are debtors, and to owe is a mark of circumscribed power. Besides, it is hard for men whom accident has raised to a throne, to

Had they read history with any care, they might have foreseen that things would necessarily happen thus. Here, in England, precisely the same game was played. Charles II., immediately after the restoration, turned adrift all those who had done him any service during his exile. He felt exactly like a debtor in the midst of duns, and took the first opportunity to deliver himself. Every one remembers the fate of Clarendon, and how pathetically the old gentleman bemoaned himself. Yet the reward he received was the proper one. He had written a lying history, and been for many long years engaged in fabricating false and mischievous proclamations, malicious libels, and fraudulent state papers. Charles II. knew all this, and could not trust him. He

remembered the old proverb-the dog that | mies have been the Fieschi's and Alibauds, will fetch will carry, and arrived instinc- antagonists far more worthy of him., He tively at the conclusion that the abilities has had to escape from infernal machines, which Clarendon had prostituted in his be- from garret conspiracies, from the Lilipuhalf, he might some day or other be tempt- tian wickedness of a Liliputian race. There ed by self-interest to turn against him. It is was a magnitude and a grandeur about the the fate of dishonesty never to inspire con- crimes of Rome, of which, even in imagifidence. nation, France is incapable. In the worst days of the revolution, when the genius of villany was emancipated and even encouraged to exercise its utmost invention, there was no massiveness, no originality in the atrocities which were perpetrated. Even the Noyades were an imitation.

The example of Louis Philippe and his friends may be regarded as a fresh illustration of this truth. Many of them had been dishonest. If they believed in the practicability of a republic, they were dishonest in raising him to the throne; and if the contrary was their opinion, they were dishonest in seeking to lead the country to expect the establishment of a democracy. Nothing accordingly could have taken place but that which actually happened. Lafayette, Dupont de l'Eure, Lafitte, Odillon Barrot, and their friends, demagogues, not statesmen, naturally dropped away from about the new idol. Louis Philippe no longer wanted them, and their interference in what were now his concerns, became a bore to him. He abhorred their fantastic nonsense about a republic of which he knew himself to be the antipodes, and he soon grew weary of acting a farce no longer necessary to his political advancement. The consequence was obvious.

M. Capefigue labors hard to create a contrary impression, but only practically exemplifies the truth, that the sublime is next door neighbor to the ridiculous. His pen would fain invest a row with all the attributes of an insurrection. He imagines what the people might have done, and is led by a sort of national consciousness to compare them with an old raven flapping his wings and digging his beak and talons into

* corpse, accompanying the act by the most disgusting croakings. No writer, even in the worst times of the empire, would ever for a moment have thought of debasing the Roman people by such a comparison. When most a prey to corruption and degeneracy, there was terror in their indignation. It is the business, however, of M. Cape- Trepidation accompanied their outbreaks, figue to represent the circumstances of those and the most hardened tyrants trembled to times in a different light. What he wishes face them in the paroxysms of their fury. to make appear is this; that while the lead- An émeute in France has generally, since ers of the movement were silly and ridicu- the accession of Louis Philippe, been a lous pretenders to statesmanship, and as destitute of virtue as of ability, the king was all probity and honor, endowed by nature with a superior intellect, and by experience with every variety of knowledge. This apology adroitly leads to the comparison of Louis Philippe with Augustus Cæsar, whom, indeed, he somewhat resembles. He is quite as cunning, and, perhaps, quite as wicked. He has something also of his munificence, though little or nothing of the genius which overthrew the last bulwarks of liberty in Rome, and by policy, suavity, generous confidence and the native force of his character, subdued into acquiescence the boldest and sturdiest of her votaries.

hole and corner business, instigated by some obscure criminal, and carried into effect by a handful of desperate vagabonds. To overcome such adversaries surely requires no display of transcendant abilities. Any thing superior to the anile incapacity of Charles X. will suffice to govern France. There is not a despot in Europe who would be unequal to the task. The Parisians bend their neck to the yoke; they only ask bread and journals, and incessant abuse of England

Where then is the mighty merit of gov erning, during fifteen years, so submissive and docile a people? There is no nation

Louis Philippe has in his own country *This delicate image is, with some slight vahad no great enemies to overcome. France riation, thus expressed by M Capefigue, "Le has produced no Brutus or Cassius, and General Daumesnie le vieux soldat, fut obligé de no Anthony in these latter days. venir parlementer avec cette troupe rugissante, et Against Napoleon, who in genius and vil-il parvint á calmer ce rassemblement, plus sombre lany was a Roman, Louis Philippe would que le battement des ailes des corbeaux qui s'abattent pour aiguiser leur bec sur les ossemens c'es have been able to effect nothing. His ene-cadavres."-T. iii. 168.

even

If M. Capefigue be of a different opinion, as most probably he is, we should like to hear his reasons for the faith that is in him. These he has not given in the lengthy volumes before us. We grant he is very severe on the French people, abundantly ready to acknowledge their imperfections and to exaggerate their wickedness; for the worse he can prove them to be, the more credit must be due to Louis Philippe for keeping them quiet.

That the King of the Barricades very early learned to distrust his subjects we are aware. Even so far back as December, 1830, he began to be apprehensive of a fatal termination to his reign, and issued a curious order, to the knowledge of which we came by accident. Traversing the Champs Elysées one rainy day, wrapped up

in the world whose relations, internal or ex- He would perceive that he could hope for ternal, are less complex. The population no peace or intermission till he granted is homogeneous, and addicted to little va- them their rights, and he would therefore riety of occupation; and a large amount of grant them. political ignorance lies like a dead weight on public opinion all over the kingdom; and this is a necessary result of the rural occupations of the people. An immense majority of the French, engaged from father to son in the pursuits of agriculture, live scattered over the face of the country, in villages and small towns, where much more thought is bestowed on fiddles and five franc pieces than on the franchise, on réunions than on reform, on soup than on political economy. There are few great cities which may be regarded as the forges of political opinion. There is little movement in the population, which has every where a local impress, a provincial character, a traditional cast of thought utterly inconceivable to us. No speculation, no enterprise, disturbs or intermingles the various strata of society. The descent of trades to the nose in a cloak, we were about to and professions operates almost like the laws of caste among the Hindus. The channels of trade are few and narrow, and swept by no brisk current. A sluggish communication goes on between place and place, like that which existed in England during the middle ages. Externally, France has no multiplied relations, little commerce, few colonies, no neighbors but those on her own frontier. Great Britain is neighbor to three-fourths of the world. Innumerable nations stand in contact with her. Half the world depends on her for clothing and the productions of the useful arts. France has nothing to offer to strangers but wines or gewgaws, things which they can very well do without. Her people, therefore, are not much tempted abroad, and, consequently, never acquire that reckless independence of character which is incompatible with a tyrannical government.

The English people could not live under Louis Philippe for one week. They would not attack him with infernal machines, they would hatch no conspiracies, they would break out into no émeutes, but they would smother him under petitions, or brain him with a remonstrance. They would meet from one end of the kingdom to the other, they would agitate, they would shake the whole soil of the island with popular emotion. There would be no rest for him or his ministers, night or day. Trade would cease, politics would absorb man, woman, and child, throughout the three kingdoms.

step into the gardens of the Tuileries, when a sentinel stepped forward and said: 'You can't go in.' 'And why not?' said we. Because,' replied the man,' you have a cloak on.' 'And what harm,' we inquired, is there in a cloak?' 'Oh, none in the world,' rejoined he, but it is feared there may be something under it.' And what is to be done?' continued we. Why, just slip off your cloak,' observed the soldier, and then step inside the gate and put it on again. I shall have done my duty, and that's all I care about. His majesty, however, I can tell you, is afraid of cloaks, and of the people who wear them.'

The soldier was right, Louis Philippe had already begun to dread his people. For a few weeks after the Barricades he used to drive about with his family in an open carriage, and appeared anxious to court popularity. He even sometimes ventured, as M. Capefigue very carefully relates, to go abroad on foot with a single aide-decamp, when he was usually recognized and saluted with loud demonstrations of loyalty. But such days were far too bright to last. The intercourse between king and people is not to be carried on after that fashion in France. It might do very well for the old Emperor of Austria to stump about Vienna, like a parish beadle, and be known and greeted by his phlegmatic subjects with a submissive, affectionate alarm, which insured his safety, and their servitude. The offspring of the French Revolution have