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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 Ex Libris 
 
 Frederick & Emmanuelle 
 D'Hauthuille-Schwartz
 
 NEW YORKER 
 
 THE FOREIGN OFFICE, 
 
 HIS ADVENTURES IN PARIS. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A VI8IT TO PRINCE LOUIS NAPOLEON AT HAM;" "MY COURTSHIP 
 AND ITS CONSEQUENCES J " KTC. ETC. 
 
 LONDON : 
 TRTJBNEE & CO., 60, PATEENOSTEE EOW. 
 
 1858.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1986, by 
 
 HENRY WIKOPF, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 ENGLISH COPYRIGHT. 
 
 NOTICE. The Author of this work having written and printed it in En 
 gland, and having, further, complied with all the stipulations of the law, 
 has been enabled to secure a copyright. Any contravention of tfie same, 
 therefore, will be duly prosecuted. 
 
 FRENCH AND GERMAN COPYRIGHTS. 
 
 Copyrights of this work are secured in France and Germany, unu< the 
 International Treaties between those countries and England. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The Author reserves to himself the right of translation into the French 
 And German languages. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 THOMAS HAEBILD, ^TyU, ^ BAL18BVKY 8OCAKB, 
 JLBET STBEKT.
 
 TO THE BRITISH PUBLIC. 
 
 THIS book is of an exceptional character, and the motives 
 which led to its composition will appear in the course of 
 its perusal. It may be judicious, however, that I should 
 say an explanatory word in advance, lest my reader should 
 take violent umbrage at what may seem a wanton ex 
 posure of private affairs of some delicacy and importance, 
 as well as a gross disregard of the usages of good society. 
 Let me state, then, as will be duly seen, that I wrote this 
 book with unfeigned reluctance, and that it was only after 
 reiterated rejection of my reasonable expectations that I 
 published it in the United States. It was my earnest 
 desire to avoid its publication in England, and to this end 
 I made strenuous efforts to conciliate the parties from 
 whom I sought /edress. At one moment I thought I had 
 succeeded, for it was not long since that I had an oppor 
 tunity of showing some zeal, and, I may say, of rendering 
 such service to British interests in the United States as to 
 receive the warm acknowledgments of a distinguished 
 diplomatic functionary of Her Britannic Majesty's Govern 
 ment, and which ultimately led to an interview with the 
 Earl of Clarendon, in November last. To find myself, 
 after so many repulses, once more a welcome guest at the 
 Foreign Office, and to receive from the distinguished
 
 IT INTRODUCTION. 
 
 nobleman then presiding over it, the flattering assurance 
 that my case should, at length, be cardfully investigated, 
 induced me to give way to the conviction that any ne 
 cessity for this publication had ceased, and that my mode 
 rate claims would be promptly conceded. To stay my 
 readers' curiosity, I will briefly premise in what my " case" 
 consisted. 
 
 In November, 1851, whilst connected with the Foreign 
 Office, I was thrown by the British Consul at Genoa into 
 a prison in that town for a pretended offence, and I was 
 detained there for a period of fifteen months, through the 
 exertions of Sir James Hudson, Her Britannic Majesty's 
 minister at Turin. This may seem strange enough, but 
 for the latter fact I have the assurance of the Count de 
 Cavour, then a member of the Sardinian Government, to 
 a distinguished journalist of Paris.* I considered the 
 Foreign Office justly responsible for the acts of its agents, 
 and on my restoration to liberty, in 1853, I solicited re 
 dress from the Earl of Clarendon, then at its head. It 
 was not compensation in money I required, but a simple 
 assurance that the conduct of the British Consul at Genoa, 
 and that of Her Britannic Majesty's minister at Turin, 
 was not approved. This may have seemed a bold demand 
 
 * During my imprisonment, in 1852, the Journalist in question wrote 
 to the Count de Cavour, soliciting his influence in my behalf. Not long 
 afterwards the Count visited Paris, and during his stay called on my friend 
 
 M. , to whom he thus expressed himself: "I was most anxious, 
 
 at your request, to obtain the pardon of Mr. Wikoff, whose offence we con 
 sidered a farce ; but the British Minister strenuously opposed it, making 
 it almost a diplomatic matter." I am ready, if required, to give the name 
 of the person alluded to.
 
 INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 from so humble a person, but I believed that my cruel 
 incarceration justified it, and I knew that nothing short of 
 this could enable me to throw off the insupportable ob 
 loquy of which I had been the object both in England and 
 the United States. This, in a word, was my case, and 
 entitled, as I thought, to some consideration; but my 
 complaints and solicitations were alike disregarded, and I 
 was thus forced into the publication, in the United States, 
 of the history of my imprisonment, which had an extra 
 ordinary circulation, and, happily, led to a revolution of 
 opinion in my favour. 
 
 It was at this juncture that a leading London journal, 
 The Times, whilst discussing my connection with the Foreign 
 Office, indulged in various insinuations, not merely unjust^ 
 but disparaging, and wound up its comments by branding 
 me as a " spy." Though my employment had been of a 
 confidential nature, yet I had always considered it of a far 
 more respectable kind than that usually discharged by a 
 spy, and I felt, after this denunciation by a journal of the 
 weight of The Times, which damaged me in my own country 
 as well as in England, that it was more imperative than 
 ever that the Foreign Office should come to my succour, and 
 enable me in some measure to correct the false impressions 
 put afloat, without resorting to a full and undisguised state 
 ment of my former relations with it. Could I have ob 
 tained the sanction of the Foreign Office to a brief defence 
 in the journals of London against the many unfounded 
 imputations that had been circulated to my prejudice, and 
 to which no answer had ever been returned, my purpose 
 would have been sufficiently accomplished. My appeal to
 
 Yl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Lord Palmerston, however, in August, 1855, met with the 
 same fate as all preceding ones. 
 
 In this dilemma, what was I to do ? What course could 
 any man take who had a proper regard for public opinion, 
 or the least spark of self-respect remaining. I had either 
 to resign myself for ever to the opprobrium that misrepre 
 sentation had cast upon me, or maintain my claims to a 
 better fate, by laying a plain statement of facts before the 
 public. Still reluctant, however, to give offence to persons 
 whose high station demanded the utmost forbearance on 
 my part, I pursued the same course with this book as the 
 previous one, and by publishing it in the United States, I 
 sought not only to vindicate my character there, but to 
 convince, if possible, the Foreign Office here, that I must, 
 if driven to it, bring my case finally before a British tri 
 bunal for judgment. It was not, perhaps, an apprehension 
 of this so much as the consideration that I had, as before 
 stated, rendered disinterested service to Lord Palmerston's 
 Government during the past year in the United States, 
 that induced Lord Clarendon, as already remarked, to re 
 ceive me at the Foreign Office last November. No wearied 
 traveller ever rejoiced more heartily over the close of a 
 long and tedious journey than I did, I repeat, when ad 
 mitted once more within the familiar portals of the Foreign 
 Office, and when, after all the "slings and arrows" of 
 which I had been so long the unhappy target, I found my 
 self again in direct communication with its noble head, 
 I thought and who would not ? that my search for justice 
 was over, and that my hopes were at length to be realized. 
 It turned out, however, that I was destined to be once
 
 INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 more the victim of the strange deceptions of this bewil 
 dering haunt, for, save a cordial reception and many civil 
 assurances, I was not a whit the better off than before. 
 This disappointment, the most poignant of all, satisfied 
 me there was no remedy in longer delay, and I resolved 
 forthwith to throw myself confidingly on that love of fair- 
 play, which is said to be and I believe it an attribute of 
 the British character. It is a matter of downright mo 
 ment to me that I shall be held guiltless of this publica 
 tion; and that it may be seen what honest efforts I made, 
 up to the last hour, to avoid it, I will herewith append a 
 conclusive document to prove it. On reflecting over my 
 interview with Lord Clarendon, I thought I might have 
 been too exacting : and so earnestly did I shrink from 
 giving offence by this publication, that I decided to put 
 myself wholly in his Lordship's hands, trusting to that 
 lofty sense of equity, not unmixed with generosity, cha 
 racteristic of a British nobleman, whether in or out of 
 office. I wrote, therefore, to the noble Foreign Secretary 
 that I abandoned, finally, all claims against the Foreign 
 Office ; that I withdrew all complaints ; and that " I was 
 entirely disposed to suppress my book, out of respect for 
 Lord Palmerston, and in deference to his Lordship's 
 wishes," if I -thought this course would meet with his 
 approval. After some delay I received the following 
 reply : 
 
 FOBEIGN OFFICE, 
 
 January 9th, 1858. 
 
 SIB, I am desired by Lord Clarendon to acknowledge the receipt of 
 your letter of the 31st ult., in which you say that you are entirely disposed 
 to suppress your work out of respect for Lord Palmerston, and in defer-
 
 viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ence to Lord Clarendon's wishes, and I am to state to you in reply that 
 you must have misunderstood Lord Clarendon, as his Lordship has no 
 wish whatever, and therefore expressed none, respecting the publication or 
 the suppression of your work. 
 
 I am, Sir, your most obedient Servant, 
 
 H. LISTEE. 
 HENET WIKOPP, Esq. 
 
 In one sense this was satisfactory enough, for it showed 
 distinctly that all my fears of giving annoyance by this 
 publication were unfounded, and that I was welcome to 
 publish or suppress, as I thought fit. For my own sake, 
 then, as well as consideration for a large circle of friends 
 in England, I present this vindication to the public ; and 
 that my whole case may be known and fully pronounced 
 upon, I shall follow it up with the publication of the 
 fantastic story which reveals the secret of my imprison 
 ment in Genoa.* There is one thing, however, above all 
 others, I desire to impress on the mind of my readers, 
 which is, simply, that I have sought to exculpate myself 
 from odium without inflicting, from a vindictive motive, 
 any unnecessary notoriety upon the parties concerned. 
 
 In the present book, especially, though I have written 
 in a lively, and even flippant tone, in the hope to amuse my 
 reader, yet I trust it will be found that I have not shown 
 any want of respect, much less any hostile feeling to the illus 
 trious statesman whose name I have been compelled to 
 use. I am glad to say that the familiar sketch given of 
 Lord Palmerston was read with extreme interest in the 
 United States, and had the effect of disarming many 
 long-seated prejudices. On this point I cannot forbear 
 * I 1 My Courtship, from Portland Place to an Italian Prison."
 
 INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 quoting the testimony of a Noble Lord, a staunch friend of the 
 late Prime Minister, who, in addressing me from the United 
 States, where he happened to be at the moment, says, " I 
 am confident that in writing your book you did not intend 
 any malice against Lord Palmerston, and / know that in 
 this country it has had an opposite tendency" In fine, 
 whatever the sum of satire, ridicule, or invective these 
 books may bring upon me, I shall be consoled not a littla 
 by the reflection that some of the worst accusations 
 hitherto preferred against me will be utterly disproved ; 
 whilst I trust it will be found that in recording events 
 wherein my rdle was often ludicrous, and sometimes 
 painful, that I have written with good temper, and as 
 much courtesy as was consistent with truth and fact. 
 
 So much for that part of this book which treats of matters 
 purely English, and now I beg to add a word touching that 
 portion which discusses French affairs. I do not hesitate 
 to invoke for the sketch I have given of the Presidential 
 career of the Prince Louis Napoleon, the most calm and de 
 liberate perusal, not only because I declare it- to be an impar 
 tial record of the difficulties that beset his path from first to 
 last, but, still more, for the almost panoramic display of 
 the undignified, and infatuated conduct of the politicians of 
 Prance from t^ie revolution of '48, up to the crisis of the 
 coup d'etat. I can hardly be accused of prejudice against 
 the French Kepublic, or of bias for its cautious antagonist, 
 for it may be supposed that the sympathies of an American 
 democrat were naturally with the former ; but as I watched 
 with unflagging attention the thoughtless and factious 
 course of French statesmen of every creed, I found
 
 X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 myself gradually compelled to yield to the impressions 
 conveyed in this book, more in sorrow than in anger. It 
 is all very well for Messieurs, the ex-members of the 
 Legislative Assembly, from the depths of their discom 
 fiture, whether in France or in exile, to hurl their 
 anathemas against Napoleon III. ; but who have they to 
 blame that the coup d'etat ever took place but them 
 selves ? It was very natural, I admit, that split up into 
 factions and coteries they should wrangle and plot against 
 each other ; but if for the sake of this exciting diversion 
 they chose to abandon to Louis Napoleon the exclusive 
 honour of looking after the interests and dignity of France, 
 at home and abroad, what wonder is it, then, that when 
 the hour arrived, the entire nation rose in its majesty, and 
 by a vote of near eight millions, sanctioned the bold act 
 that consigned the Legislative Assembly to endless 
 remorse ! 
 
 This is the only point of view from which the fall of 
 the Republic and the rise of the Empire in France can be 
 understood, and with all humility I invite the English 
 reader to note and carefully digest the curious and import 
 ant events that made the Presidency of Louis Napoleon the 
 inevitable prologue to the Imperial drama which ensued. 
 
 It is a matter of no small interest to us Americans to 
 get an accurate notion of European history; and nothing 
 could have gratified me more than to observe that this 
 simple and connected narrative of the causes which led to 
 the coup d'etat in France, well-nigh reversed in the 
 United States the opinions that previous misrepresenta 
 tion had spread there. It is assuredly of far greater im-
 
 INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 portance to Englishmen not to adopt one-sided views, or 
 form erroneous conclusions concerning men and things in, 
 France, since the interests and welfare of England are 
 doubtless more identified with this great nation than with 
 any other, not excepting even the United States. Were it 
 not for the perverse ingenuity of writers, who, from selfish 
 motives of one kind or another, delight to distort both 
 words and things, on either side of the channel, it is not 
 to be doubted that every spark of ancient prejudice would 
 die out, and that the chances of a senseless and desolating 
 conflict would disappear for ever. 
 
 In conclusion, let me remark that much effort has been 
 made in some quarters to lower me in public estimation 
 in this country by ingenious aspersions in various publica 
 tions ; whilst in others I have been harshly abused from 
 misconception rather than design. In the hope, then, to 
 soften the prejudice thus engendered against me, and in 
 no boastful spirit, may I not be permitted to say that the 
 perusal of this book and its predecessor in the United 
 States had the effect to reinstate me in the good opinion 
 of society which led, at a later day, to my receiving from 
 my own Government an employment as advantageous, if 
 not so flattering, as that which I had the honour to hold 
 under Her Britannic Majesty's Government in 1850. 
 
 
 
 HENRY WIKOFF. 
 
 LONDON, May, 1858.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAG* 
 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 Departure for France. Recollections of 1847. Louis Philippe and 
 Guizot.- The great Book of Lamartine. The French Journals. 
 Rothschild and the Railroads. The Upper, Middle, and Lower 
 Classes. Conversations with Louis Bianc, Marrast, Lamartine, M. 
 Thiers, Berryer, Chateaubriand, Lammenais. Louis Napoleon at 
 Londoa The two Princes at a Hunt 3 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 
 
 Arrival at Havre. Trip in a Railway. Paris in 1849. A Visit to 
 Prince Napoleon. The Struggle to wheedle the President. A Re 
 view of the National Guard. An Attempt to Frighten Louis Napo 
 leon , 13 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 A Ball at the Palace. Mixture of all Classes and Ranks. Attitude 
 of M. Thiers. The Princess Matilda Escorted by Berryer. Lamar 
 tine at the Elysee. The Viscount de Persigny. Horace Vernet in 
 Uniform. Honorable Richard Rush. A Rencontre with Louis Na 
 poleon . . . 2d
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 The French Assembly. State of Things in Paris in March, 1849. An 
 Invitation to Dinner. Louis Napoleon's Physician. A Splendid 
 Dinner-party. A Compliment from the President. Count Mole 
 Mystified. An Artful Dodge and a Ludicrous Failure. A Remark 
 of Berryer. Telegraphic Experiments. Montalembert's Disdain for 
 Morse. A Short Chat with the President 32 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 An Election at Paris. The Prince Napoleon Chairman. His Speech. 
 The New Assembly. Louis Napoleon's Reflections. The Rage of 
 the Republicans. Then- Leader, Ledru Rollin. His sly Maneuver 
 ing. A Threat against his Life. Proudhon, the Socialist. The 
 Cholera in Paris. A Rise of the Red Republicans. A Charge of 
 Cavalry. A Precipitate Flight 43 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 France hi the Hands of Parliamentary Tacticians. A Thunder-bolt in 
 Mid- winter. The President's Position. A Conspiracy against Him. 
 Attack on the United States' Constitution. The Republicans refuse 
 to Defend it. M. Caylus. Emile de Girardin. His Independence. 
 A Literary Broadside. Its Effect on the French Press. Louis Na 
 poleon's Panegyric. A Rescue by Lord Nonnanby 6* 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMER8TON. 
 
 A Rencontre with an Old Acquaintance. A Dinner and its Conse 
 quences. A Trip to London. A Note from Lord Palmerston. A
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Sketch of His Career. An Excursion to Broadlands. An English 
 Park. Lord Palmerston's Appearance, Manners, etc. A Delightful 
 Dinner. Lady Palmerston. A Long Walk and a Long Talk. A 
 Startling Proposition. An Old Church. Return to Town ... 13 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 Deep Reflections. Final Decision. A Test Demanded. Ludicrous 
 Effect. A Second Effort. Another Invitation from Lord Palmer 
 ston. "A Bargain Struck. Interview with a Sa iretary of State. A 
 Diplomatic Iceberg. Terms Settled. Consigned to Paris. A Mis 
 take , 97 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 Mr. Edwardes Non-plussed. A Dinner at the Caf6 Philippe. A Quan 
 dary. Interview with the Editor of Le Siecle. M. Lamarche, an 
 Editorial Oddity. His Anglophobia A New Point of View. A 
 Dinner with French Editors. A Change of Policy. Surprise of the 
 British Embassy. Conversation with Emile de Girardin. His Opin 
 ion of Lord Palmerston. A Good Idea thrown hi the Fire. The 
 Horror of M. Edwardes. A Letter from Mr. Addington .... 112 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 A Conflict Approaching. The Downfall of General Changarnier. His 
 Revenge. A Scene hi the Assembly. Leon Faucher gives the 
 Signal Jules Fabre. M. Victor Hugo. M. Montalembert. M. 
 Thiers. General Cavaignac. M. Dufaure. M. Dupin renews the 
 Hubbub. M. Thiers at the Tribune . . 131
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 PAO 
 
 ' Lord Palmerston Mysterious. A Pacific Policy. Letters to the 
 American Press. Mr. Crampton Consulted. A Note from M. Ed 
 wardes. He Announces that " He is Struck by an Idea." A Sec 
 ond Note from M. Edwardes. The Idea Explodes. A Funny Dia 
 logue. A Sudden and Serious Resolution 145 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 Louis Napol&m's Tact A New Dodge of the Republicans. A Dis 
 tinguished Party. Emile de Girardin on a Frolic. French Gayety. 
 A Jolly Supper. A Hunt in the Cellars of Lille. A Ludicrous Dis 
 appointment A Retreat Sounded. A French Manufacturer. Ora 
 torical Contest over a Dinner-table. Return to Paris. Victor 
 Hugo's Prediction 164 
 
 CHAPTER XIH. 
 
 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 M. Edwardes changes His Tactics. The Sang-froid of Louis Napo 
 leon. The Politicians abandon the Elysee. Lord Palmerston'a 
 Sagacity. A Quarter's Salary. Mr. Addington Knows Nothing 
 about the Matter. A Break-down. An Assault upon Lord Pal 
 merston. My Reflections in an Ante-chamber. A Note from Lord 
 Palmerston. A Practical Joke. Another Request from Lord Pal 
 merston to Come and " Find Him" at the Foreign Office. M. Ed 
 wardes quite Bothered 180 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 Louis Napoleon Misunderstood. Interview with the President of the 
 Assembly. A Miscalculation. The Politicians quite Astray. Pub-
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 lie Opinion up to the Crisis. A Split as to who should be General 
 in Chie The Republicans Bury the Republic. Louis Napoleon 
 has no Alternative 203 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 Another Excursion to London. A Rupture Decided on. The Foreign 
 Office getting Economical Mr. Addington too Civil by Half. Peter 
 Borthwick Interferes. A Diplomatic Knock-down. Flight to 
 Switzerland. Interview with a Helvetian Radical. The Last Quar 
 ter's Salary. What Mr. Addington Thinks of Kossuth. A Final 
 Effort. Its Success. A Letter from Lord Palmerston 221 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A PRETEXT. 
 
 An Unlooked-for Event. Miss Gamble. Genoa in 1851. Timothy 
 Brown, the Consul. An Interregnum. A Letter from Brown Big 
 with Menace. An Escape from the Galleys. Repudiated by Brown. 
 An Appeal to the Foreign Office. Lord Clarendon hesitates. Re 
 quested to " Make Out My Case." The Foreign Office, finally De 
 nes Me. " My Courtship" is my Answer. Lord Palmerston Prime 
 Minister. Another Appeal, and another Failure 230 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Lord Palmerston's Mistaken Policy. "What the Times says. A "Word 
 or Two of the Times Newspaper. The Times blunders about Rus 
 sia, Blunders again about the United States. The Times "Wakes 
 Up, and Sees Clearer. Lord Mayor's Dinner to Mr. Buchanan. 
 Bold Language. A Dinner to Mr. Dallas. Lord Stanley speaks 
 his Mind. Yankee Doodle applauded. Mr. D'Israeli Pitches into 
 the Foreign Office. Lord Palmerston Backs Down. My Triumph 
 over the Foreign Office 261
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 MM 
 A Trip to Washington. A Visit to the State Department A Portrait 
 
 of Secretary Marcy. A Letter from James Gordon Bennett. What 
 Our Foreign Minister Thinks of " My Case." His Opinion on Cuba. 
 The State Department managed by the English and French Minis 
 ters. Governor Marcy abides his Time. It comes at Last Mr. 
 Crampton Sets Off to Enlighten the Foreign Office at Home. A 
 Better Time Coming 284 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 A Letter on the United States 301 
 
 " " England 307 
 
 " " France . . 314
 
 A NEW YOEKEE IN THE FOKEIGN 
 OFFICE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A RETUOSPECT. 
 
 I embarked in February, 1 849, in the good steamerHerman, bound 
 from New York to Southampton, on my way to France, my four 
 teenth passage across the Atlantic. This fact must sufficiently 
 attest the interest with which I had regarded the progress of affairs 
 in Europe for many years past, as well as the opportunities that 
 must have been afforded for familiarising myself with the real 
 meaning of events, and the true motives of those who had insti 
 gated or profitted by them. I remembered no instance when I had 
 set off on a visit to Europe with my feelings so keenly stirred as 
 on the present occasion, and certainly the political hurricane that 
 had swept over Europe in 1848 had left such startling proofs of its 
 intensity and ravages as must have aroused the dullest mind. How 
 much more, then, was my curiosity stimulated, who had so often
 
 4 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 contemplated the men and scenes that now lie buried under the 
 Alpine avalanche that had so suddenly descended, and who was 
 accustomed to mix so often in the society of those who were either 
 the victims of these disasters, or the more fortunate participators 
 in that which had succeeded. There was nothing on shipboard to 
 divert ray attention, and my mind found constant aliment, there 
 fore, the entire voyage in contrasting the condition of France as 
 I left it in the spring of '47, having passed the winter there, 
 with all the incredible changes that had since transpired, and which, 
 urged by an insatiable curiosity, I was on my road to contemplate. 
 
 Louis Philippe was, then, King of the French. His royal brow, 
 so often shadowed over by threatening perils and perplexing fear 
 of change, beamed, at last, with a sense of complete security. His 
 smile was radiant, his confidence unbounded. He believed his dy 
 nasty permanently established. 
 
 M. Guizot was, then, Prime Minister. His majority, in the 
 Chamber of Deputies, was so strong, that he treated the Opposition 
 with contempt. When they declared that a suffrage of less than 
 200,000 for a population of thirty-five millions was a mockery, 
 the arrogant Minister replied, " It is enough," and turned his back 
 upon them. Thus, the King swayed his Minister ; the Minister 
 ruled the Chamber ; and the Chamber dictated to France. This 
 was the political situation, and the structure was skilfully con 
 structed, and seemed firm enough. 
 
 The literary world was then in a state of violent fermentation. 
 The " Girondists" was just published. Lamartine, its author, se 
 lecting the most striking epoch of the first revolution, had depicted 
 its fierce commotions with thrilling power. The ex-page of Charles 
 X. announced himself the apologist of Robespierre, and extenuated 
 the terrible excesses of the Reign of Terror. The aristocratic
 
 A BETROSPECT. 6 
 
 world was horrified, but the people were not indifferent to this 
 startling transformation. 
 
 The journals were, then, discussing electoral reform. The or 
 gans of Government derided boldly any increase of the franchise, 
 whilst the Opposition prints contended modestly that the national 
 mind was not fairly represented. Such an extravagant idea as 
 universal suffrage never entered the brain of any serious person. 
 
 The financial world, then, was absorbed in all the vicissitudes of 
 railway speculation,- and Eothschild wielded the golden wand tha^ 
 had once broken in the grasp of the scheming John Law. 
 
 The fashionable world was never gayer than in the winter of '47. 
 
 The middle classes were busy in the pursuit of gain, and satis 
 fied with the results. 
 
 The masses were occupied, industrious, and calm. Were they 
 as content as silent; no one knew or cared. This was the aspect 
 of things in April of '47. France seemed tranquil, prosperous, 
 and happy. 
 
 I was not deceived, though, by the blue sky overhead, for I had 
 scanned the whole horizon round, and knew there were portentous 
 clouds gathering. My short sojourn in Paris in the winter of 
 '47 was given to frequent interviews with the leading intellects of 
 France, les grands esprits, both actors and thinkers. I passed from 
 one to the other, discussing France and her destiny. Their elo 
 cution was brilliant, their views striking, but their conclusions 
 universally differed, for each started from his own point of 
 view. I thought it idle to analyse how far self-interest, or par- 
 triotism, or conviction, may have swayed their opinions, but one 
 distinct impression I bore away with me, viz., that all the leading 
 men of Prance, with a single exception, seemed plunged in a sea of 
 doubt, both of themselves and their doctrines. None knew the pre-
 
 6 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 sent, none thought of the past, none penetrated the future. They 
 seemed to me like so many gamesters at rouge et noir, each playing 
 his stake with more or less composure, but all blindly uncertain of 
 the results. 
 
 I breakfasted often at this epoch with Louis Blanc, and peering 
 into his intelligent face, sought to fathom the mysteries of Socialism. 
 He talked most eloquently, but when I desired to examine the 
 machinery of his system, he hesitated. His theory was not yet in 
 governmental shape. 
 
 I dropped in occasionally on M. Marrast, Editor of the National^ 
 the democratic journal. 
 
 " If the monarchy falls," I asked, " what then ? " 
 
 "The Eepublic," he exclaimed, 
 
 "What kind of Republic?" 
 
 " Cela depend " (that depends), and he explained no further. I 
 saw the contemplated French Eepublic was in a nebulous state. 
 
 I observed on one occasion to M. de Lamartine, " Your book 
 is making a deep sensation." 
 
 " I am glad of it," he returned, " for my publisher gave me a 
 large sum. Here, take the prospectus with you for your friends." 
 
 Strange that the illustrious author thought only of the pecuniary 
 success of his book, little dreaming, likely, of the blow he had 
 given the monarchy. 
 
 I went to the house of M. Thiers, one evening, with his friend, 
 the Prince de la Moskowa. M. Thiers was the chief accoucheur of 
 Louis Philippe's dynasty, but was supplanted, at last, by his rival 
 Guizot. I inferred his discontent, and ventured to touch a new 
 chord. I spoke to him opportunely of the Prince Louis Napoleon. 
 He listened. I continued my remarks, when, at length, he said, 
 w How old i he ?" A word from such a man is a volume. I divined
 
 A KETROSPECT. 7 
 
 his thought, to wit, that the Prince was young enough, to wait till 
 he had Bonapartized France more deeply with his magnificent his 
 tory of the Consulate and the Empire. 
 
 I discussed one morning with the brilliant chivalric Berryer the 
 chancea of the old monarchy. 
 
 " Will it ever return ?" I queried. 
 
 " Why not," he said ; " it returned once, and may it not again ?' 
 
 Many more remarkable men I had the good fortune to meet at th*. 
 moment I speak of, but each, as I have shown, was sailing in a bark 
 of his own and to a different and uncertain haven. The interview 
 that affected me most was that, which, after great difficulty, I ob 
 tained with the illustrious Chateaubriand. He was broken down in 
 health and confined to his bed-room, where for a couple of hours 
 daily he was propped up in a chair. His family alone were admitted, 
 and I was the last stranger that ever approached him. He sat, as 
 I entered, with his venerable head drooping on his breast, plunged 
 apparently in stupor. I conversed in a low tone with his nephew, 
 
 the Marquis de . Our conversation gradually wandered on 
 
 to politics, when the nephew talked of the restoration some day of 
 his legitimate King. Chateaubriand shook his head slowly but 
 spoke not. After a pause we went on, commenting on the career 
 of the existing Monarchy, and in the course of a little time the 
 Patriarch with difficulty raised his head, his eye gazing on vacancy. 
 " Cela ira comme tout le reste. L'avenir est au peupk" (That will 
 pass like all the rest. The future belongs to the people.) His 
 voice was sepulchral, and the words seemed to struggle up from his 
 heart. His head sank downward again, and soon after I withdrew. 
 How solemn and emphatic this renunciation of all his efforts, of all 
 his hopes. Chateaubriand gave Christianity back to France, but 
 his last breath closed it against that Royal race to whom his ances 
 tors for centuries had faithfully clung.
 
 8 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 I spoke of a single exception, amongst all the great intellects I 
 encountered, that seemed to have come to a clear and positive 
 conclusion. I sat one day at an open casement with an old man, 
 whose thin grey locks fluttered in the gentle breeze of spring. 
 His face overflowed with benevolence ; the fire of genius sparkled 
 in his eye. This was the Abbe* Lammenais, first a Priest of Rome, 
 and last a fervent Democrat, and the writer whose burning words 
 had seared deepest the popular heart of France. His tones were 
 calm and deep like his conviction. 
 
 " Then, the Monarchy of July," I said as I rose. 
 
 "Dead." 
 
 " Its elder brother " 
 
 " Dead." 
 
 " May they not revisit France ?" 
 
 " Like spectres only to vanish." 
 
 " The Bonapartes " 
 
 " Yes, in their turn." 
 
 ""The Republic" 
 
 "Inevitable." f . ' 
 
 " Will it stand ?" 
 
 " It matters not." 
 
 " Wherefore ?" His eye wandered over the plains to a distant 
 point. 
 
 " Because in its arms only can France, the world, find rest.'* 
 
 I have thus glanced briefly at the smiling surface of French 
 Society in '47, and as hurriedly pointed at the powerful under 
 currents that were percolating beneath. 
 
 I passed from Paris at the time in question, on my return home,
 
 A RETROSPECT. 9 
 
 through London. I found there the Prince Louis Napoleon, 
 curious to know my recent impressions of men and things iu 
 France. It was at three different epochs, what contrasts ! I had 
 met this remarkable man. First, in 1840, I sat opposite to him 
 at the hospitable table of his uncle, the good King Joseph, in 
 London. He was then only known to the world as the youthful 
 insurgent of Italy, the unfortunate conspirator of Strasburg, and 
 the proscribed citizen of Switzerland. His career excited interest 
 his aspirations to the Imperial sceptre challenged curiosity. Short 
 of stature, of symmetrical form, graceful address, distinguished 
 appearance, a lofty bearing that was rather military than haughty 
 these were features easily discerned. His countenance was an 
 enigma that defied penetration. Neither passion, nor emotion, nor 
 thought had left any trace. The brow was calm. The eyes had 
 an inverted look, as though steadily fixed on some inward thought. 
 No outward indication gave token of the inner man. Impas 
 sibility wrapped him round like a mantle. Was it only a disguise, 
 and what was concealed beneath ? I was foiled, but fascinated by 
 the mystery that enveloped him, and from that hour I put a sin 
 gular faith in his star. The Prince lived in splendour, was feted 
 and followed, and no one suspected the scheme then maturing in 
 his miud. 
 
 Next, in 1845, I obtained, with much effort, access to his prison 
 at Ham, Five years of captivity, defeat, ingratitude, desertion, all 
 had done theirworst, but in his dungeon, as in the saloons of London, 
 he was still master of himself, and superior to fate. His mind clear, 
 his spirit firm, his hopes the same. I left him again as I left him 
 before a believer in his destiny. I remember well the ridicule that 
 assailed my predictions in Paris and elsewhere in 1845, but what 
 I thought I wrote, and the Prisoner for life thus endorsed the 
 prophecy he had inspired.
 
 10 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 Ham, le 11 Octobre, 1845. 
 
 MONSIETJB 
 
 Je vous renvoie les deux premieres feuilles de votre manu- 
 scrit el je vous en remercie sincerement. II est impossible de mettre 
 plus de tact, de bon gout, et d'esprit que vous en avez fait dans votre 
 relation de votre voyage a Ham. II n'y a pas un mot a changer. 
 ***** 
 
 N'oubliez pas lorsque vous irez en Angleterre de me donner une 
 adresse pour vous e*crire et recevez de nouveau 1'assurance de mes 
 sentimens d'estime et d'amitie. 
 
 NAPOLEON LOUIS. 
 
 [TKANSLATION.] 
 
 Ham, the llth October, 1845. 
 SER 
 
 I return to you the first two sheets of your manuscript, and 
 I thank you sincerely. It is impossible to display more tact, good 
 taste, and talent than you have done in the recital of your trip to 
 Ham. There is not a word to change. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Do not forget when you leave for England to send to me an address 
 where to write to you, and receive anew the assurances of my senti 
 ments of esteem and friendship. 
 
 NAPOLEON LOUIS. 
 
 It was no fanaticism in the Prince, nor a fantasy of mine, for I 
 believed, and the captive of Ham well knew, that in the heart of 
 the French peasant lay smouldering the memory of the first 
 Napoleon, a soldier of the people, and that one day the masses 
 would summon a second Napoleon to their head. 
 
 Last, in 1847, 1 encountered the Prince again, who was once more 
 a denizen of London. Neither exhilarated by freedom, nor depressed 
 by ennui, he wore the same imperturbable air that had captivated 
 me at first, and that astonished me at last* He lived tranquilly :
 
 A EETEOSPECT. 11 
 
 books some chosen friends simple amusements this was the 
 small orbit in which he moved, and appeared to know no world 
 beyond. His moderate language, gentle gesture, mild regard ; his 
 slow movement, kind disposition, who could reconcile with these 
 a boundless ambition, reckless courage, fiery ardour, an inflexible 
 will, a commanding intellect, and yet stranger than all the rest, 
 these singular contradictions., these powerful elements, were all 
 covered over by a thick panoply which the superficial thought 
 apathy, but which the keenest could not penetrate. So deeply 
 buried within himself, his character was a problem none might 
 hope to solve, and all could differently interpret. His opinions, 
 his reflections, his intentions, who knew them ? His theories, his 
 politics, his schemes, what were they ? 
 
 It was a curious study to contrast this imposing reserve, this 
 marvellous self-control, with the overflowing intelligence and ani 
 mated character of his younger cousin Napoleon (son of Jerome), 
 living with him in London at the last named date. One day I 
 accompanied the Princes to a hunt, and whilst driving to the 
 rendezvous the conversation turned on war what a theme for the 
 heirs of the Imperial Dynasty ! The young Napoleon was elo 
 quent, historical, convincing; the Prince Louis was brief, precise 
 but grave, as such a subject demanded. He neither discussed 
 nor reasoned, but occasionally intervened between his cousin and 
 myself with a sententious remark that had the effect of a judicial 
 resume. War, he admitted, might be a necessity ; but it was im 
 possible to foresee whether he would accept or resist it. My 
 surprise was all the greater at what followed. Leaving the 
 domains of reason for that of fact, the Princes mounted their 
 horses, and, once in action, their characters seemed exchanged. 
 The Prince Louis was daring, impetuous, and audacious; hia
 
 12 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 cousin, on the contrary, was prudent, careful, and calculating. 
 The one dashed headlong after his object, the other sought it with 
 less risk. 
 
 In bidding the Prince Louis adieu, I referred to the past. " I 
 am resigned," was his reply. I glanced at the future without a 
 promise. He smiled serenely, whilst he spoke. " J* attends les 
 evenemens " (I am waiting events), were his significant words. He 
 seemed not to doubt that they would come to his aid ; but who 
 could then imagine them so near? 
 
 It was with recollections like these, and with all the random 
 musings they suggested, that made my Atlantic trip seem a short 
 and easy one. When I reflected that in the brief interval that had 
 transpired since the incidents I have just related, a moral earthquake 
 had swept over Europe, and that the monarch I had left with the 
 sceptre so firm in his gripe was now fugitive and forlorn, and that 
 the man whom some thought mad, and all a dreamer, was the 
 sovereign elect of France, I felt almost disposed to doubt my 
 reason, and was really bewildered at such stupendous changes in 
 the fortunes of men and the fate of nations. I had read of them 
 and pondered over them, and marvelled, but till I could witness 
 them I felt as though my iiiCiedulity would never cease.
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 13 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 
 
 I had no sooner landed at Southampton than I hurried across 
 the Channel, impatient to see the fresh traces of the strange trans 
 formation that had occurred. The old port of Havre, with its 
 granite quays, its stone houses, and rampart of hills behind, looked 
 as solid and immovable in its republican youth as in the monarchical 
 years they had defied. The familiar tricolour fluttered from tower 
 and mast-head as gaily as of yore ; unconscious that the eloquence of 
 Lamartine had ever saved it from suppression. I looked about for 
 some token of change. " Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," the 
 symbol of the new order of things, soon met my eyes in every 
 direction; but the only interpretation I encountered of these fine 
 words was in the shape of passports, gens d'armes, and police. 
 Why, these were the attributes of the Monarchy I had left, and 
 seemed incongruous and out of place at present. To be sure, I 
 remarked the passport bore the stamp of " The French Republic." 
 This sounded well, but it was a passport still, whilst the gentry 
 aforesaid had only changed their uniforms, and not their occupation. 
 The motive of this, I suspected, was that some hungry contractors 
 had suddenly professed Republicanism for the sake of a job. A 
 change of costume for such a corps as the police, or the army, 
 or navy of France, is an affair of millions ; but buying up Repub 
 licans at such a rate is costly work. 
 
 In the railway to Paris I expected to hear the Republic extolled 
 and Monarchy derided, but everybody eschewed politics, to my
 
 14 FRANCE REi'UBLICANIZED. 
 
 surprise. Now and then an allusion would be dropped, but the 
 variety of comical grimaces that ensued soon led me to perceive 
 that opinions vastly differed upon what was, had been, or might 
 be. One topic, however, was discussed with great relish the 
 rise in stocks and the return in value of property of all descriptions 
 since the election of the President of the Republic. The effects 
 of a revolution in an old community like France may be highly 
 dramatic for foreigners, but I found it had made sad havoc with 
 the interests of all classes. The Funds had fallen from 117 to 56, 
 and real property was unsaleable for months, but the Constitution 
 adopted, and the President chosen for four years there was an end of 
 the political chaos that had prevailed, and property ran up again 
 rapidly. 
 
 I found Paris in March '49 as gay and busy as I had left 
 it 18 months ago. The shops were frequented, the theatre, 
 crowded, the cafes and hotels were in no want of business. The 
 population flowed and ebbed through the brilliant Boulev.irds 
 and its tributaries with the same easy and smiling unconcern that 
 distinguishes the Parisians from all others. No marks of devas 
 tation met the eye. Who could have believed that in my brief 
 absence a Dynasty had been overturned, a Republic proclaimed, a 
 civil war quenched in blood, and a new political organisation 
 established. These amazing feats had been performed, and yet the 
 French were apparently as engrossed by their ordinary avocations as 
 though nothing had occurred. This I soon found was only the 
 surface of things, for the minds and feelings of men were by no 
 means in the same placid condition. Everybody talked of recen/. 
 events in a whisper and with 'bated breath, as though an escape had 
 been made from some vague and dreadful catastrophe. So rapid, and 
 various, and portentous had been events, that the minds of all were
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 16 
 
 thrown into a state of confusion that rendered any distinct opinion 
 impossible. No one hardly knew whether to regret the past, be 
 content with the present, or satisfied with the future. The more I 
 sounded, the more palpable was the profound moral disorder into 
 which all con-ditions and classes had been cast. A nation, no more 
 than a stage-coach, cannot be suddenly overturned, and set up again 
 without its occupants finding themselves in a very mixed state of 
 mind and body, hardly knowing whether to cry out or rejoice. 
 
 The lower classes of France seemed quite elated with their per 
 formances. They had dethroned a King, turned out his successors, 
 the Republican Cavaignac and party and set up a Bonaparte. They 
 regarded this as a pretty fair specimen of their dexterous celerity 
 in the short time employed, and they were inclined to resume order, 
 and work with more relish. 
 
 The middle classes scratched their heads, looked unutterable 
 things, but said nothing. They did not care to have it known 
 they never meant to upset Louis Philippe, much less to start a 
 Republic, or, least of all, to raise up a Bonaparte, whom they en 
 thusiastically voted for to escape something worse. They considered 
 they had made fools of themselves, jeopardized their interests, but 
 hoped to get out of the scrape without avowing it. 
 
 The upper classes were divided in sentiment. The Legitimists, or 
 followers of the old Monarchy, were in ecstacy at the downfall 
 of the Orleanist Dynasty. They patted the Kepublic on the back at 
 having removed their hated rival. They embraced the new Bona 
 parte as a reaction towards Monarchy, and the mirth on their happy 
 faces showed how fervently they believed " a good time was coming" 
 at last. The poor Orleanists were in a woful plight, hardly knowing 
 whether to curse others or themselves. They were in the last state 
 of desperation, on their backs and in the gutter, groaning inwardly, 
 unheeded, and forgotten.
 
 16 FRANCE UEPUBLICANIZEB. 
 
 That small portion of society dating from the first Empire, and 
 which had been snubbed in turn by the elder branch and the 
 younger, by Louis 18th and by Louis Phillippe, now came out of 
 their hiding places, brushed up their old souvenirs, and dared to 
 avow themselves Bonapartists. 
 
 What perplexed me most was to find a Republic in France 
 but no .Republicans. I have given a faithful sketch of the National 
 mind in its three great phases, but save the small knot of politi 
 cians sitting on the left of the National Assembly then delibe 
 rating in Paris, I could discover no Republicans. This was a 
 curious and interesting state of things. I saw, and every one 
 felt it, that they had only stopped at a station, as it were, and 
 that a journey fraught with mystery was still before them. If I 
 had neither political theories or sympathies to stimulate my attention 
 my interest in the fate of a great people, apd in the career of an 
 
 t*Vy l<f-^&Vv^ 
 
 extraordinary man was too deep and ahaamag'not to strain every 
 faculty of my mind in watching the progress of events towards 
 some unknown but inevitable denouement. 
 
 Soon after my arrival I paid a visit to the Prince Napoleon, 
 then residing at the Hopital des Invalides,* of which his Father, 
 the ex-King Jerome, was just named Governor. When I saw the 
 Prince last in London he was forbid by the laws of France to enter 
 its territory, and now his family were in possession of the Govern 
 ment. The Prince gave me a cordial reception. In his present 
 exalted position I found him as affable and unstudied in his manner 
 and conversation as when in exile. He received me in his robe de 
 chambre, handed me a cigar, and began chatting in his usual ready 
 and off-hand way. The intelligence of the Prince was striking; 
 
 An Asylum for disabled soldiers, founded by Louis XIV.
 
 FBANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 17 
 
 his acquirements for so young a man were remarkable. His mind 
 was quick, discerning, and exact. He measured a subject at a 
 glance, and formed a conclusion with singular correctness. His 
 views were always large and profound, and expressed with that 
 nettete and point which reminded one of the first Emperor, whom 
 he marvellously resembled in other respects. The same pallid 
 complexion, penetrating glance, expansive brow; the same form 
 of head, with its short, dark hair; perfect parity of feature, and 
 that abrupt, rapid movement which in the Uncle betrayed his ardent 
 character and electric flash of thought. I commented in the course 
 of my remarks on the strange events that had occurred since last I 
 saw the Prince, and he discussed them without reserve, and with ail 
 appreciation both impartial and sagacious. He enumerated the 
 errors of the fallen dynasty, and whilst his opinions of the future 
 were neither extravagant nor theoretical, he displayed great zeal 
 for the popular cause, and decided aversion to any reactionary 
 movement. After awhile he suddenly asked me 
 
 " Mais, avezvous vu Louis ?" [" Have you seen Louis ?"] 
 
 I was really startled to hear the Head of the State so familiarly 
 treated, forgetting for an instant that it was his cousin addressing 
 me. 
 
 " No, your Highness," I replied, " I have been only a few days 
 in Paris, and I feel, besides, that my acquaintance with the Prince 
 naturally ends with his elevation to his present august position." 
 
 " Believe me, the President will be happy to see you," returned 
 the Prince Napoleon. Go to the ball to-night at the Elysee, and 
 you will meet him there." 
 
 " But I have no invitation." 
 
 " That's easily remedied ;" and ringing the bell, lie ordered an 
 invitation to be sent to my hotel.
 
 18 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 
 
 As I wended my way home I wondered how far the sentiments 
 of the Prince Napoleon were shared by the President of the Re 
 public. They were in daily contact, and their relations were 
 intimate and cordial. 
 
 The ripe intellect, varied experience, and lofty position of the 
 President must inspire his cousin with due respect, while I 
 was aware that the Prince Napoleon had always been an 
 object of lively solicitude and affection to his august rela 
 tive. But I saw that the progressive views of the Prince 
 Napoleon, however sound or acceptable they might be in 
 the President's eyes, were not such as could be easily 
 or hastily carried out in Government, hampered, as was the 
 Executive power, by the most jealous restrictions. I felt 
 pretty sure that if the counsels of the Prince Napoleon were 
 adopted, the President would soon be involved in a hot collision 
 with the Legislative body, and the consequences might be fatal to 
 one or the other. If the President, however, refused advioe, I 
 thought it not unlikely that the Prince Napoleon would throw 
 himself into the ranks of the Opposition, not out of hostility to the 
 President, but from a conviction that the interests of both required it. 
 I feared an estrangement would then ensue, but still I believed that 
 their mutual affection would survive political dissensions. 
 
 Strange to say, neither the Prince Napoleon, nor any one else, 
 seemed to know the views or purposes of the President. The mar 
 vellous transition in his fortunes, the possession of power, the en 
 thusiasm of the nation, were as impotent as his previous disasters to 
 work any change on his mind or character. The inscrutable man he 
 was, he still remained, and this strange reserve was so new to the 
 French that it awed whilst it perplexed them. Of the Prince 
 Louis Napoleon the masses knew nothing, save his name and
 
 FRANCE KEPUBLICANIZJ.D. 19 
 
 his misfortunes; hut the reading public of France and else 
 where entertained profound doubts both of his capacity and judg 
 ment, whilst the adroit politicians of the day were in high glee at 
 the prospect of handling so pliant a tool as they took him to be. 
 His canvass had been ardently sustained by the Monarchical parties, 
 because they considered his election would pave the way to a resto 
 ration of Monarchy. The Legitimists, with Berryer at their 
 head, gladly hoped he would be the precursor of Henry V. The 
 Oiieanists, under the guidance of Thiers and Mole, meant to prop 
 him up till the Count de Paris, grandson of Louis Philippe, was 
 old enough to assume his role in a limited Monarchy. The Ee- 
 publicans had opposed his election, simply because he was the 
 nephew of an Emperor, and they feared his tendencies to Royalty. 
 
 "What his opinions or views really were no one took the trouble to 
 inquire, for no one gave him the credit of any. At the moment I 
 speak of, near three months had elapsed since his election, and 
 the same notion generally prevailed of his utter incompetency to 
 shape or carry out any policy of his own. A ludicrous struggle as 
 to whom he should belong was going on between the Legitimists and 
 Orleanists, who frequented his table and crowded his levees. The 
 haughty Duchesses of the Faubourg St. Germain revived their faded 
 recollections of Court intrigue, and stimulated by the auguries of 
 their oracle, Berryer, they employed every act of seduction to win the 
 seemingly flexible President over to their purposes. No doubt they 
 were ready to pledge him, for his aid in restoring Henry V., a good 
 place at Court and a splendid revenue. 
 
 The leaders of the Orleanists were more practical men, and em 
 ployed other means. Messieurs Thiers and Mole, sure of their 
 Parliamentary tactics, promised in their turn to increase his actual 
 allowance, in consideration of his obedience to their suggestions. 
 
 c
 
 20 FBANCE KEPUBLICANIZED. 
 
 To all these temptations the President lent a ready car, but made 
 no reply, which was attributed naturally to his hesitation as to 
 vhose offers he would finally accept. The Orleanists made a bold 
 and adroit effort at the very outset, not only to monopolize the 
 President, but, better still, to get rid of the Republic at the same 
 time. The anecdote I shall relate in proof of this I have from the 
 lest authority. 
 
 The very day after the installation of the President into office, in 
 December, 1848, a grand review of the National Guard, and of all the 
 Troops in Paris, was ordered, to furnish the new President an oppor 
 tunity of showing himself in public for the first time. The enthusiasm 
 for the heir of the " Emperor " was at that instant deep and universal. 
 The upper class for the reason assigned, the middle class at the pros 
 pect of order, the lower class from pure love of the name, were 
 each and all sincere and ardent in their rejoicing at Louis Napoleon's 
 elevation. An astute politician, like M. Thiers, perceived at a 
 glance how easy it was to transform the newly-fledged President 
 into a ready-made Emperor. He thought to accomplish it at once. 
 General Changarnier was, then, commanding the Army of Paris, 
 and was both an Orleanist and a partisan of M. Thiers. This 
 political metamorphosis was simple enough, for General Chau- 
 garnier had only to give the hint, and both the Army and the 
 National Guard would have readily raised the cry of " Vive l'Em 
 pereur." Eepublican opposition would have availed little. The 
 morning of the review the President, the Prince Napoleon, and 
 General Changarnier were together in one of the saloons of tha 
 Palais d'Elysee, waiting till the Troops got into line before mount 
 ing their horses. It was at that moment General Changarnier 
 suggested to the President how easy a thing it was to exchange 
 his Eepublican toga for the Imperial mantle, and that if he would
 
 FRANCE REPDBLICANIZED. 21 
 
 speak the word he was fully prepared to effect this splendid 
 change in his toilette. The President paced the room in silence. 
 as if busied in rumination, whilst General Changarnier continued 
 to urge on him the expediency of an at so facile and so desirable, 
 At this solemn moment the President remained, as usual, cabn and 
 collected, whilst General Changarnier was feverish and agitated. 
 The Prince Napoleon stood by a passive spectator. Suddenly word 
 was brought that all was ready, and Louis Napoleon mounted his 
 horse without uttering a word of reply. General Changarnier did 
 not venture to act without his authority, and the Imperial project 
 of M. Thiers fell, therefore, to the ground. The motive of the 
 President's silence is left to speculation. Did he secretly approve 
 the plan, but wished General Changarnier to accept the sole 
 responsibility, or did lie doubt the good faith of the proposition, 
 suspecting it to be only a snare to ruin kirn, or did he consider the 
 step premature and disloyal ? His reflections at that critical instant 
 have never been disclosed. 
 
 The rivalry of the two Royalist factions to outstrip each other in 
 their separate objects was ardent enough at this time, but they 
 were equally disposed to unite should the President prove refractory 
 or manifest the hardihood of acting on his own authority. A 
 curious instance of this occurred soon after his election. The 
 President was aware that the documents connected with his expe 
 dition to Boulogne, in 1 840, had been preserved in the archives of the 
 State, by order of Louis Philippe, and it was only natural that in 
 his present exalted position he should wish such vestiges of the 
 past to be consigned to oblivion. He had not been in office many 
 days when he sent a request to his Minister of Interior, Leon de 
 Malleville, to remit to him the documents in question. To his great 
 surprise the Minister hesitated to comply. The President insisted,
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICAN JZED. 
 
 however, when the presumptuous Minister brought the matter 
 before the National Assembly, and declared his purpose of throwing 
 up his portfolio rather than submit to this illegal abuse of the 
 Executive power. He resigned accordingly, and a great hubbub 
 was the result. 
 
 All this was only an ingenious trick of the politicians of all 
 the factions, headed by Messieurs Thiers and Mole, to reduce the 
 President at once to subjection, so that he might not venture there 
 after to interfere with them. The power assigned to the Execu 
 tive by the ^Republican Constitution of M. Marrast and Co. was 
 vague enough, and it was equally the interest of the politicians of 
 all shades to convert the President into a mere fiction of Slate, 
 similar to the English Monarch, so that all authority might be 
 wielded by themselves, at the head of a Parliamentary majority, as 
 in England. To accomplish this the paltry occasion of the President 
 sending for the documents I have alluded to was laid hold of, and 
 the object was to manage the thing in such a way in the Assembly 
 and the Press as to put the President in the wrong before the 
 public, and so turn opinion against him. M. Thiers displayed 
 his usual dexterity in getting his camp-follower, M. de Malleville, to 
 resign, and such a tempest in a tea-pot was raised, that in France, 
 England, and the United States, the public, who only saw the outside 
 of the dispute, considered the politicians in the right, and were 
 more confirmed than ever in their previous unfavourable impressions 
 of the Prince Louis Napoleon. 
 
 The President detected at once the Parliamentary juggle, and 
 deeming it unwise to alarm the public mind by so early a collision 
 between himself and the Assembly, he prudently withdrew his de 
 mand, and gracefully submitted to his would-be masters. The ex 
 ultation of the Parliamentary leaders was extreme, and they mistook
 
 FRANCE REPUBLICANIZED. 23 
 
 the tact and good sense of the President for weakness and inca 
 pacity. The Republican party was in majority at this time in the 
 Assembly, but they readily followed the Royalists in this decisive 
 effort to put down the President. 
 
 The state of things, when I arrived in Paris in March, was 
 seemingly pleasant enough. In the Assembly the Royalists and 
 Republicans were contending for the mastery ; the former superior 
 in Parliamentary tactics, the latter greater in numbers. Out of 
 doors the two Royalist factions, as I have described, were strug 
 gling for the exclusive possession of the President, who assumed 
 the complacent demeanour of Captain Macheath 
 
 " How happy could I be with either, 
 Were t'other dear charmer away." 
 
 The Republican party, all this while, avoided contact with the 
 President, and frequented his fetes in limited numbers. They were 
 ' mortified at the defeat of their candidate, General Cavaignac, and 
 looked upon his successful rival with consequent dislike.
 
 24: THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 The invitation to his cousin's ball, which the Prince Xapoleon 
 bad so graciously procured for me, as before stated, duly reached 
 me, and I drove, at nine o'clock the same evening, to the Palace of 
 the Elysee. This was the residence assigned by the Assembly to 
 the President, and it was singular enough that the career of Prince 
 Louis Napoleon should begin in the very abode where that of 
 his illustrious uncle finished. It was here that Napoleon, after the 
 battle of Waterloo, resided previous to his quitting Paris, and from 
 the fact of his not returning to the Palace of the Tuilleries it seemed 
 as thougli he recognized the loss of his right longer to inhabit it. 
 Whether it was from jealousy or fear of expense that the Republican 
 Assembly selected the smaller Palace of the Elysee for the Presi 
 dent's use, instead of the Tuilleries, the gorgeous abode of the old 
 Kings of France, I do not know, but any potentate, Republican, or 
 otherwise, might well be satisfied with so delightful a habitation 
 as that of the Elysee. The reception rooms are numerous, lofty, 
 and elegant, but had they been double their size they would only 
 have conveniently accommodated the throng that crammed them to 
 excess on the night I refer to. Until a portion of the company 
 had gone, locomotion was well-nigh out of the question. This 
 singular affluence of guests proved that invitations had been 
 liberally distributed, and showed the disposition of the President 
 to conciliate all classes and ranks at starting. The amazing variety 
 of condition and strange mixture of position that harmoniously
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 25 
 
 blended together at the files of the President of the Republic at 
 this precise period, was the best illustration of the singular confu 
 sion of opinion and social disorganisation that followed the political 
 tempest of 1848. 
 
 The President displayed admirable sagacity in not prematurely 
 seeking to restore the broken-down barriers and artificial distinc 
 tions that had formerly prevailed, and he exhibited equal tact in 
 recognizing the interregnum existing by scattering broad-cast the 
 invitations to his levees and balls. 
 
 To judge only from the appearance and manners of the guests, a 
 stranger might have supposed them exclusively drawn from the 
 highest ranks only, for in no nation of Europe does that easy self- 
 possession, characteristic of good society, so universally distinguish 
 all classes as in France. This is a relic of the olden time, for the 
 Grand Seiyneur of the middle ages, however privileged and powerful, 
 was still familiar and natural in his relations with his inferiors, 
 and from this it comes that in point of social equality France takes 
 precedence of all other countries. My frequent visits to Paris, how 
 ever, had accustomed my eye to the nicer shades of its different grades 
 of society, and I could discern on every side indications of the ex 
 traordinary jumble then prevailing. Every shade of politics, Legi 
 timists, Orleanists, Bonapartists, with a sprinkling of Republicans ; 
 every branch of the Army and Navy ; every learned profession, 
 Priests, Lawyers, and Physicians ; every elevated industry, financiers, 
 and manufacturers; the world of letters; the representatives of art, 
 painters, sculptors, and architects; every strata of society, from 
 the loftiest rank and fashion down to the unknown parvenu and 
 obscure nondescript, were chatting, staring, dancing, promenading, 
 eating, and drinking, in the glittering saloons of Louis Napoleon 
 on the occasion I am now speaking of.
 
 26 TUB PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 Not long after my entree I spied the short, round figure of M. 
 Thiers. He was standing by a chimney-piece, his hands behind 
 him, a favourite attitude, peering through his spectacles, with 
 an air of quiet importance, at the motley throng before him. 
 Occasionally he would make a brief remark to a friend in 
 his usual abrupt, curt way. I contemplated him a moment, and 
 could almost divine his reflections. He considered himself at that 
 moment the master spirit of Prance, and his manner seemed to say 
 " This is all very well for the uonce, but 1 will put things to 
 rights in my own good time." Turning round I remarked the 
 fine form of the courtly Berryer, promenading with the Princess 
 Mathilde, daughter of the Ex-King Jerome, and cousin of the Presi 
 dent. The beauty, grace, and intelligence of this lovely Princess 
 gave additional interest to her romantic history, and as she moved 
 along, the cynosure of all-admiring eyes, the brilliant leader of 
 the Legitimists seemed fully conscious of the honor conferred on 
 him. Whilst others were discussing the appearance of these dis 
 tinguished persons, the Imperial bearing of one, the oratorical 
 genius of the other, I was alone occupied with the fact that the 
 chief adviser of Henry V. in France was paying assiduous court to 
 the near relative of the President of the Republic. 
 
 At every instant my attention was drawn to some celebrity of the 
 past or the present. I was surprised to mid the illustrious Lamar- 
 iine amongst the guests of the Elysee. I remembered, only a 
 few months previously, when the star of Louis Napoleon began to 
 twinkle in the distant horizon, that Lainartine, startled at the 
 omen, strode to the Tribune, and denounced, with vehement 
 eloquence, the very name of Bonaparte, accusing Napoleon the 
 Great of sacrificing France to a selfish ambition. Yet here he 
 was playing the satellite to the luminary he had vainly essayed to
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 27 
 
 extinguish. His inconsistency occasioned me no wonder, for amid 
 the rapid transition of events in a revolutionary epoch a politician 
 must either yield to circumstances or be overwhelmed. There 
 stood Lamartine near a door, his tall, erect person towering above 
 the group of greedy listeners about him. There is an expression 
 in his countenance, a something in his bearing, a dignity of 
 sentiment, an elevation of soul, that impress all who approach 
 him. I regarded him with deep interest. Since I saw him in '47 
 he had been the hero of a drama as thrilling and bloody as history 
 records. Jt was he who launched the Revolution of '48, when 
 he answered the supplications of the Duchess of Orleans with the 
 signal words, " It is too late," and bid her depart. It was he, in 
 the front of the Hotel de Ville, who quelled, by his magic eloquence, 
 the fierce frenzy of the mob, and saved Prance from the bloody 
 terrors of the red flag, by declaring it was " the tricolor that had 
 made the tour of Europe at the head of her victorious legions." 
 It was he who dared resist revolutionary fanaticism in the fiery 
 councils of the Provisional Government, and when demanded by a 
 madman, who placed a pistol against his head, " What prevented 
 him from blowing out his brains," saved his life, and turned the 
 tide of history, by calmly answering, " Your conscience." Still, 
 after such efforts and such success, he was forced to resign the helm 
 of State, that demands not only courage and eloquence but skill to 
 guide it. I scanned his face. Was he content after so much 
 fame achieved in so many different fields to give up the pomp and 
 glory of the world ? Poet, orator, historian, statesman, with 
 France for his tribune, and the world for his audience. I ap 
 proached him with deference, and he welcomed me kindly. His 
 manner was more serious than formerly, less impetuous, like a man 
 who felt his work was done. I spoke of les (/rands evenemens [the
 
 28 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 great events] that had transpired. I sought to solve a doubt that 
 compromised his wisdom, or his fealty to the people. 
 
 " The Provisional Government," I remarked, " swayed for 
 three months the sovereignty of France, and how was it, permit 
 me to ask, M. de Lamartine, that the abuses of the past were not 
 destroyed, and the Revolution satisfied ?" 
 
 " Because," gravely replied the man of '48, " I felt that to 
 France alone belonged the initiative. Until the National Assembly 
 met I struggled only to stay the arm of the Provisional Govern 
 ment." And so ruined the Eepublic, was my inward reflection, 
 and bowing low, I fell back into the crowd. 
 
 I stood a moment gazing curiously at a man that few knew 
 and none noticed. Short and slender in person, with a slight 
 stocp, very unassuming in his manner, there was nothing, save 
 the keen, restless glance of his dark eye that could attract for 
 an instant the attention of the observer. Who could have 
 thought that this was the only man in France who possessed 
 the secret of secrets, who knew the hidden purpose of the Brutus 
 of the epoch, playing the shallow to entrap the profound ; that 
 this was the only man who had access, at mysterious hours, 
 to the President, was always listened to, and frequently con 
 sulted ? In short, that this was the Vicomte de Persigny. 
 When the Prince Louis Napoleon lived in London, '39 and 
 '40, this gentleman was one of his suite. He did not figure in 
 the Expedition to Boulogne, nor was he with the Prince on his 
 return to London in '46. No sooner did the Prince come to 
 Paris in '48 than M. de Persigny was found at his side, secretly 
 but actively occupied with his canvass for the Presidency. He 
 exhibited great tact in moderating the excessive zeal of embryo 
 Bonapartists, nor would he allow a public meeting to be held in
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 29 
 
 behalf of the Prince Louis till the proper moment arrived. That 
 his intelligence and address must be rare indeed is evident from 
 his sharing the confidence of a Prince playing so intricate a game 
 as the President of the Kepublic. 
 
 I exchanged a word, en passant, with Horace Vernet, who was 
 dressed ia military uniform, whilst his breast had the appear 
 ance of a target at which the orders and stars of all the Courts 
 of Europe had been fired. This illustrious painter of battle 
 pieces is really a Colonel in the National Guard, but so strong 
 is his sympathy with the Military subjects he so marvellously 
 illustrates, that he believes himself destined some day to head 
 a campaign, if not to become a Marshal of France. I once had 
 the good luck to see this great artist at work. He was painting 
 the battle of Isly, and no one was present save the celebrated 
 Isabey and myself. The picture was of immense dimensions, and 
 Vernet stood on a ladder painting, which he descended rapidly 
 every few minutes, and running off some twenty yards, eyed the 
 effect, talking volubly all the time. His finest touches were given 
 with astonishing celerity, and Isabey was constantly thrown into 
 ecstacies of admiration. To see Vernet paint, whilst Isabey 
 criticised, was a treat not to be met with every day. 
 
 At last I encountered the person I was in search of, Mr. Rush, 
 our Minister in France, whom I had not met since my arrival. 
 Long before I came to England I had read with delight the in 
 teresting book of Mr. Rush on his long sojourn at the Court of St. 
 James's, and since 1836 I had enjoyed his acquaintance. Mr. 
 Rush was sent to France just pjvious to the Revolution of '48, 
 and it was fortunate at so critical a moment we had an Envoy of so 
 much judgment and experience. He was the first to recognize 
 the new Republic, but not till he saw it firmly on its legs, and Eng 
 land followed his example.
 
 30 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 
 
 I anticipated great advantage in discussing the condition of 
 Europe at such a juncture with a diplomatist of so much sagacity 
 and moderation. Mr. Rush was of our early school of statesmen 
 now fast disappearing. To learning and high breeding was united 
 a respect for routine and a decided conservative tendency that 
 imparted dignity and stability to our new institutions, but which 
 has been forced to yield to the inordinate progression of ideas and 
 rapid march of events so characteristic of the age. I canvassed the 
 opinions of Mr. Eush on the "situation" with much interest. 
 The reaction, he thought, had set in, and the statu quo would 
 finally be restored. I ventured, however, to express my belief 
 that whether the Republic survived or no, the electoral body of 
 France would never be reduced to what it was under Louis Philippe. 
 
 " But, have you seen the President ? " inquired Mr. Rush. 
 
 " I was just looking for you to be presented to him," was my 
 answer. 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed the Minister. " Do you think such cere 
 mony necessary with the Prince, whom you know so well? " 
 
 " I knew the Prince Louis Napoleon, it is true, but I have never 
 been presented to the President of the Republic." 
 
 " Come along, then," exclaimed Mr. Rush, whose scruples of 
 etiquette were gratified by my reserve, " he'll welcome you kindly, 
 for he has frequently inquired after you." 
 
 Launching ourselves into one of the currents of the overflowing 
 crowd, we set off in quest of our illustrious host, remarking the 
 while on the variegated aspect of his guests, where the showy 
 costumes of official and military functionaries contrasted oddly 
 with a broad back-ground of black cloth a rare sight in the 
 palaces of European Princes. We had made the tour of several 
 apartments before we spied the President through a dense mass of 
 heads that enclosed him round like a body guard. Before we
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S BALL. 31 
 
 could reach him I had a good opportunity for observation. He 
 was dressed in a General's uniform, which became him exceedingly. 
 Though not tall, Prince Louis is erect and well formed. His new 
 dignity had in no wise changed his manner, which was graceful, 
 affable, but dignified. He was moving slowly along, smiling and 
 bowing to the eager crowd, and occasionally addressing a remark 
 to some one he recognized. By dint of effort Mr. Rush managed 
 to reach him, whilst I stood a pace in the rear till I was announced. 
 I remarked that the mention of my name brought an expression of 
 surprise to the face of the President, who was till that moment 
 unaware of my being in Paris. I advanced, and he shook me 
 cordially by the hand. His manner was as pleasant as in the olden 
 time, though his conversation in the presence of so many gazers 
 was necessarily more formal. The President finished by saying he 
 hoped to see me soon again, when I fell back to join Mr. Rush, who 
 was standing near. I remarked that the British Ambassador, Lord 
 Normanby, was at the side of the President, and listened attentively 
 to what passed during my short audience. He continued accom 
 panying the President about the rooms during the evening, some 
 what in the manner of a chamberlain. I supposed this to have 
 some political meaning, and was likely meant to indicate, if not 
 any sympathy for the Republic or its President, at least the desire 
 of the English Government to remain on the best terms with both. 
 It certainly afforded food for curious reflection that the self-same 
 oligarchy that had wasted so much blood and treasure in assailing 
 the first French Republic, and in aiding to overthrow the first 
 Napoleon, should now avow their mistaken policy by anxiously 
 seeking to conciliate the second Republic and the second Napoleon. 
 This is only one of the many proofs that history affords of the utter 
 impotency of all the force or art of Governments to turn the tide 
 of human destiny.
 
 32 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 
 
 In March, 1 849, the public eye was bent with suspicious scrutiny 
 on the Constituent Assembly in permanent session at Paris. This 
 body was the product of the universal suffrage of France, imme 
 diately after the Revolution of 1848, and it was, therefore, the 
 reflex of the popular sentiment at that i&oment. The majority was 
 Republican, the minority Monarchical, and the former is, therefore, 
 accountable for what occurred during their tenure of power. From 
 the beginning the Republican politicians committed a fatal error, 
 for instead of occupying themselves with the interests of their 
 constituents, the masses, they directed their attention solely to 
 the best means of prolonging their political preponderance. None 
 of them were sagacious enough to see that the only mode of pre 
 serving their popularity was to effect those reforms that up to this 
 time the people had failed to obtain from the Monarchy. Soon 
 after they met in May it was so apparent that they meant to touch 
 as little as possible the organisation of France as the Monarchy had 
 left it, that a portion of the Parisian populace, at the instigation of 
 Louis Blanc, made a demonstration against them, and only a month 
 later nearly the whole populace of Paris rose in arms to overthrow 
 them. A Eepublican chief, General Cavaignac, undertook success 
 fully to defend the Assembly, and was rewarded by being made the 
 temporary head of the State, with the title of " Chief of the Ex 
 ecutive power." The Assembly then commenced the business foi 
 which it was especially elected, the structure of a new Constitution :
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 33 
 
 that was duly carried by the majority, but they avoided submitting 
 it to the approval of the French people. I will reserve my remarks 
 on this instrument for another place. What the people of France 
 finally thought of the Constitution and the Assembly that voted it, 
 may be gathered from the overwhelming rejection of the represen 
 tative of both, General Cavaignac, when he came forward as the 
 opponent of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte for the Presidency of the 
 Kepublic. On that occasion the upper, middle, and lower classes, 
 united to mark their condemnation of the Eepublican politicians, 
 who had proved themselves either incapable or false. 
 
 The Assembly remained in session after the election of the Presi 
 dent, but for want of equal Parliamentary ability the Republicans fell 
 in a measure under the sway of the Monarchists. This body was to 
 dissolve, by the terms of the Constitution, on the election of a new 
 Legislature in May, 1849^ and at the time I am speaking of, the 
 month of March, the Republican majority was sinking lower still in 
 public estimation by unseemly brawls with the Monarchists on the 
 subject of their party interests, entirely forgetting the popular cause 
 they were sent to promote. The President of the Assembly was M. 
 Marrast, ex-editor of the National, already spoken of, and the number 
 of brilliant entertainments he gave had procured him the sobriquet of 
 the "petit Marquis." From the profound dissatisfaction of the 
 public, high and low, it was considered certain that at the forthcoming 
 election the Monarchists would obtain the majority, and Messrs. 
 Thiers, Mole, and Berryer, were in high spirits at the prospect. At 
 this delicate juncture, the President was, perhaps, the only man in 
 France that understood his own position and the state of the public 
 mind. The politicians of both parties and of all shades were entirely 
 engrossed with their party or personal interests. The President saw 
 their error, and wisely resolved to avoid identifying himself with
 
 34- A DINNER AT THE ELYSEB. 
 
 any of them, but to remain in a perfectly neutral position. The 
 Eepublicans could not accuse him of being against them, whilst the 
 Monarchists believed he was secretly with them, which led M. 
 Thiers to hope, with his aid, to get back the Orleanists, whilst M. 
 Berryer calculated equally on him to restore Henry V. The 
 French people, meanwhile, had their gaze fixed on President Bona 
 parte, and were content to wait, as they knew by the Constitution 
 of M. Marrast, he had no power to serve them if he wished. 
 
 This was the complicated state of things when I received, one 
 day, soon after the ball I have spoken of, an invitation from 
 the President to dine with him at the palace of the Ely see, 
 already mentioned. I was surprised and flattered at this prompt 
 mark of his friendly remembrance, but I did not allow my 
 self-love to overrate it. I attributed it at once to that good 
 taste and kind feeling so characteristic of the Prince Louis 
 Napoleon, and not to any desire to renew his former relations with 
 me, which in his present exalted position it would have been pre 
 sumptuous to expect. I felt very curious indeed to know some 
 thing of his state of mind on the amazing revolution in his fortunes 
 since I saw him last in May, 1847, an exile in London. I re 
 membered still his parting phrase, "f attends IKS eve'nemens" (I am 
 waiting events), which indicated that if his hopes were inflexible, 
 he felt it useless to wrestle longer with Fate. I was still more 
 eager to ascertain his political views, and to divine his future policy, 
 but I did not for a moment deceive myself, nor underrate the Prince. 
 I felt sure his tact was quite adequate to the occasion, and that, 
 whilst avoiding his old familiarity, which might embolden me 
 too much, he could still show he was not unmindful of the fact 
 that I was the only one, not interested in the result, who cherished 
 a profound belief in his final success, when all else pronounced it a
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 35 
 
 shallow delusion. In the dreary solitude of Ham, after five years 
 of imprisonment, and forgotten by the world, the visit of even so 
 humble a person as myself was cheering to him, as I afterwards 
 learnt, not only as an act of personal devotion, but as a proof 
 his fortunes could not be utterly desperate, since a foreigner, and 
 without a motive, still persisted unshaken in his faith. 
 
 I drove at a few minutes before the hour named on the day in 
 question to the Elysee, and on entering the saloon I found several 
 members of the President's household assembled. I recognized 
 amongst them his faithful friend and physician, Dr. Conneau, who 
 through every vicissitude had remained true to his trust. No one 
 could have divined in the mild countenance and quiet but genial de 
 meanour of Dr. Conneau, that his sagacity, firmness, and courage, 
 had, in many trying emergencies, rendered services far more precious 
 than any his professional skill had ever been called on to afford, and it 
 is not to be wondered at that he held so high a place in the affec 
 tionate esteem of his august patron. I fell into pleasant chat with 
 my former acquaintance, expecting every moment to see the Presi 
 dent enter the room, as I supposed the dinner was only to be, in 
 common parlance, a family party. I was of a sudden surprised to 
 hear the ushers announce " Monsieur Thiers," who passed through 
 into an adjoining saloon of grander dimensions. Immediately after 
 M. Mole was announced: then M. Berryer; M. Montalembert ; Ge 
 neral Changarnier, and others of little less celebrity. It turned out 
 that it was a grand dinner of state that the President was giving, 
 and I found myself not a little elated at coming so unexpectedly into 
 contact not only with the most illustrious names of the day, but 
 the very men who aspired to shape the future destinies of France. 
 
 I strolled along into the principal saloon, where I found the 
 company was gathering to await the coming of the President, and I 
 
 D
 
 86 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 
 
 ensconced myself in a quiet corner, talking the while with an Aide- 
 de-Camp in waiting. On the opposite side of the room small groups 
 of t\vo or three were collected about the political oracles I have 
 mentioned, who were conversing in under tones, but with consider 
 able animation. As my glance fell in turn on the distinguished 
 persons before me, it was natural my mind should revert rapidly to 
 the singular features of their different careers. 
 
 There was M. Thiers, with the star of the Legion of Honour 
 on his breast. Of humble extraction, he came to Paris at the 
 age of 24, and began life in a garret. Employed on a news 
 paper, his literary talent raised him at once. Finding public 
 opinion running against the priest-ridden government of Charles 
 X., he wrote a democratic history of the first revolution, and 
 so hastened the second, when he became a Minister of Louis 
 Philippe. Finally discarded by the King, and foreseeing his 
 downfall, he began Bonapartising France by a dazzling history of 
 the Consulate and Empire, and Louis Napoleon came sooner than 
 he expected or wished. Writer, orator, statesman ; brilliant, 
 profound, and unscrupulous, M. Thiers is an antagonist any ruler 
 might fear. Is the President a match for this political Titan ? 
 The result will show. 
 
 Count Mole is listewng to him. The Count, though of an 
 cient lineage, owed his title, and everything to the first Napo 
 leon, whose fortunes he never abandoned. He was more than 
 once Prime Minister to Louis Philippe. High respectability more 
 than great talent is the secret of his distinction. 
 
 M. Berryer is near him : the first advocate of France, and the 
 political champion of a hopeless cause. Splendid talents, lofty 
 character, chivalric nature. He defended the Prince Louis Napoleon 
 in '40 before the Chamber of Peers.
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 37 
 
 The Count Montalembert stands apart, proud and cynical in 
 manner and disposition. An orator, devoted to Church influence, 
 he would revive the middle ages if he could. 
 
 General Changarnier, cold and haughty, promenades about as 
 though impatient for the entree of the President. This soldier of 
 Fortune rose rapidly in the African campaigns, under Louis 
 Philippe, and if as successful in politics as in strategy, he will play 
 a prominent part hereafter. 
 
 My mind was pleasantly engaged with these retrospects for 
 some little timte, when the company having all arrived, the Presi 
 dent was duly announced, and a moment after entered the 
 saloon. His guests bowed low and remained silent. To my 
 astonishment, and still more to that of his distinguished convives, 
 he advanced directly towards me, and shaking my hand, with 
 a friendly word or two passed over to receive the salutations 
 of his company. I was at no loss to understand this delicate at 
 tention of the Prince, whose eye happened to fall on me, standing 
 almost alone, on the side opposite to the remarkable persons I have 
 mentioned. He knew me to be the humblest of his guests, and 
 intended, by an act of condescension, to put me at my ease, and to 
 show his consideration for an old partizan. I went on talking 
 with the Aide-de-Camp near me. Presently the President ap 
 proached me again 
 
 " You don't know Count Mole, I think," he said. " Come with 
 me, I wish to present you to him." 
 
 Bowing, I followed him across the room, amid the evident sur 
 prise of the company, who looked on me as some illustrious 
 unknown, little dreaming that I was a flpikee and a democrat. 
 
 " Count Mole," said the Prince, " I wish to make you acquainted 
 with an old friend of mine who has twice crossed the Atlantic to 
 pay me a visit."
 
 38 A DIXNEB AT THE ELY3EE. 
 
 Of course I was received by the Count with the greatest cor 
 diality, but if the Prince had stated I had twice come from the moon, 
 his puzzled guests could hardly have been more perplexed to know 
 really who and what I was. 
 
 One of the latent traits of the President, that I had occasionally 
 seen, was a sly love of humour and i half suspected that he was 
 playing on the curiosity of the jealous politicians around by treating 
 me with so much partiality. 
 
 " Le diner est servi," said the master of ceremonies in a loud 
 voice, and the President led the way alone to the 5 banquet-room, 
 his guests following in groups. Each person's place was desig 
 nated as usual. The Count Mole was put on the right of the 
 President, who sat in the centre of the table, according to French 
 custom. I found myself on the right of Count Mole. M. Thiers 
 was on the left of the President, with M. Berryer for his neighbour. 
 General Changarnier was vis-a-vis to the President. Nothing could 
 exceed the ease, aifability, and self-possession of the Prince. No 
 affectation in his manner, no effort in his conversation, he main 
 tained the superiority of his position with natural but imposing 
 dignity. 
 
 The situation of the President was a novel one a stranger to 
 France, and but newly acquainted with her greatest Statesmen, it 
 demanded a rare combination of qualities, mental and moral, to 
 acquire the ascendency he had clearly obtained. Conversation at 
 table went on in an under-tone. The President quietly ate his 
 dinner, occasionally dropping a comment upon some remark he 
 chose to overhear. I fell into easy chat with Count JMole, who, 
 fancying that I was deepen the confidence of. the President, gave 
 unreserved expression to his opinions on the strange events of the 
 past, and the prospects just dawning. His astonishment was
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 39 
 
 almost ludicrous when I proclaimed in reply the strong democratic 
 notions that possessed me. I stated my belief that the time had 
 come when something more than Parliamentary discussion was 
 necessary to meet the desire of France for material progress, and 
 that unless the Prince and his advisers gave heed to the national 
 conviction, that, perhaps, the gulf of revolution was not finally 
 closed. The ex-Minister of Louis Philippe really seemed not to 
 comprehend me, for so absorbed was he in Parliamentary intrigues, 
 and so embedded in routine, that plain common-sense sounded 
 like the jargon of an unknown land. He stared at me for 
 a moment, and then concluding that I was only employing 
 finesse to conceal my real opinions, went on with his repast. The 
 President I could see, was not unconscious of what was going on, 
 and, I fancied, was trying to conceal his amusement at the unex 
 pected collision of a staunch Monarchist f the old school, like 
 the Count Mole, with an American democrat, who looked at facts 
 as they were, and at things as they ought to be. 
 
 About the middle of the banquet M. Thiers raised his voice, 
 and gave strong utterance to his indignation against the intolerable 
 licentiousness of the Press, which respected neither place nor person. 
 He called attention to one of the morning papers that had outraged 
 decency in its coarse vi' uperation of the President. The note was 
 caught up till every one at table had joined in the chorus of anathema 
 against peccant journalism. When the tide of sympathetic horror had 
 fairly exhausted itself, every eye was turned upon the President, 
 whose feelings, it was hoped, might be touched, and above all, whose 
 opinion on this vital point it was thus artfully sought to extract. 
 The silence was profound. The President seemed to reflect, when 
 draining his glass of the few drops it contained, he remarked 
 " Every one, of course, has his own point of view. I can com-
 
 40 A DINNER AT THE ELYSLE. 
 
 prehend your dissatisfaction at the licence of the Pres?, and your 
 anger at their violent attacks upon myself; but, Messieurs, shall I 
 own the truth r " Every head converged towards the President. 
 
 " I read these diatribes," he continued, " each morning at break 
 fast, and I assure you they afford me so much amusement, that I am 
 kept in good humour for the rest of the day." It was with an 
 effort that I suppressed my mirth at the blank disappointment 
 I detected in every face around me. The dinner ended without 
 further incident, and the President leading the way, as before, the 
 company returned to the drawing-rooms. 
 
 I joined M. Berryer, whom I had not met since my arrival, and 
 after chatting awhile, playfully remarked on my satisfaction at 
 seeing him in the palace of a Republican President. Hfe smiled 
 significantly, whilst he added that 
 
 " In times like these luckless politician was hardly responsible 
 for what he said or did." 
 
 During our dinner Mr. Brett, so well known for his telegraphic 
 enterprise, had obtained the permission of the Prince to run a wire 
 through the various saloons of the palace, in order to exhibit to him 
 some striking improvements, jointly invented by himself and an 
 American associate. As the preparations were going on, I happened 
 to be standing near the President, when M. de Montalembert came 
 up, and with that cynicism so characteristic of the man, remarked, 
 in a sneering tone 
 
 " Quest que vaut tout cela ?" (what is all that worth ?~) pointing 
 to the telegraph. I shall never forget the genuine look of astonish 
 ment of the President. 
 
 "What is all that worth!" he repeated mechanically, "mats 
 c'est In civilization " (why, it is civilization), he added. 
 
 " Oh, le beau mot ?" (Oh, the fine phrase) returned M. de
 
 A DINNER AT THE ELYSEE. 41 
 
 Montalembert in real disdain. The President said no more, but 
 turning, talked with Mr. Brett. 
 
 When all was ready, the President was solicited to make the 
 first experiment, and he wrote a single line to the effect "that 
 M. Berryer dined at the Elysee on day of March, 1849," which 
 was duly printed on slips, and passed round amongst the guests. 
 The simple use of M. Berry er's name, who was accidentally 
 standing by when the President was called on for a phrase, threw 
 all the politicians present, I could observe, into deep rumination. 
 What could it mean ! was a mystery that likely cost them whole 
 days of perplexity. The wires were soon taken down, and the 
 company began rapidly to disperse. 
 
 On going, I advanced to thank the President for the honor of his 
 invitation, and to express the interest that meeting so many re 
 markable men had afforded me. In return, the Prince was kind 
 enough to avow his satisfaction at some publications of mine, during 
 the summer of '48, wherein I declared my conviction of his being 
 called to the head of France so positively that the French Minister 
 at Washington, M. Poussin, pronounced me un fou. 
 
 " As often happens," remarked the Prince, playfully, " I dare 
 say you are not a little surprised to find all your predictions at last 
 so completely verified." 
 
 " However that may be,'* I replied, " I assure your Highness 
 that it is fortunate for me as well as tor France that you were 
 elected." 
 
 " How so?" enquired the President. 
 
 " Simply because I foretold your success with such unqualified 
 confidence, that I should have been a lost prophet if the event had 
 turned out otherwise." 
 
 Bidding the Prince good night, I wended my way home, fully oc-
 
 42 A D1NSER AT TUB ELYSEE. 
 
 copied with my reflections. I have detailed the incidents of my 
 first dinner at the Elysee with some minuteness, with a view to 
 convey a more vivid impression of the actual state of things at this 
 interesting epoch. 

 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 A violent political agitation pervaded France in April, 1849. A 
 decisive struggle for the supremacy was shortly to ensue be 
 tween the Monarchical and .Republican parties. The former, 
 emboldened by pasfc successes, worked with a hearty good will, 
 whilst the latter, discouraged by conscious short-comings, carried 
 on the contest with deep forebodings of the result. All the ma 
 chinery that modern ingenuity has invented to arouse public 
 feeling and guide opinion was brought into active requisition. 
 That tremendous organ, the press, was powerfully and skilfully 
 employed by both sides to promote their interests, and the first 
 intellects and most practised pens of either party did their utmost 
 to secure the victory. The streets of Paris were placarded with 
 highly seasoned appeals to the "electors of" the Seine," whilst 
 public meetings were nightly called to listen to the inflammatory 
 harangues of chosen orators and aspiring candidates. To an 
 American all this political hubbub, with its familiar demonstrations, 
 was both novel and exciting, and he was tempted at times to 
 believe he was in the midst of the usual commotion of an ardent 
 Presidential canvass at home. The subjects discussed, however, 
 soon scattered these illusions, for instead of practical measures of 
 local or national benefit, instead of debating the expediency of re 
 form or the abolition of abuse, nothing was expatiated on by one 
 party but the necessity of " Order," whilst the other enlarged on the 
 manifold blessings of " Liberty." Such themes as these sounded
 
 44 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 strangely in. an American ear, and showed at once that France 
 was in an exceptional state, not going through the operation of 
 some organic function, but rather involved in a struggle for political 
 existence. The speakers at these meetings were always fluent and 
 often eloquent. In oratory and conversation the Preach sur 
 pass all nations in readiness and facility, which, in part, may 
 be ascribed to their language, more highly perfected than 
 any in Europe, but still more so, to their ambition to shine in 
 the art of conveying their ideas with eclat. The lower classes 
 especially express themselves with an ease^ and propriety no 
 where else seen. The conduct of the audience at these popular 
 assemblies was singularly calm and decorous, in marked contrast to 
 that boisterous animation which pervades such places in the United 
 States and England ; there was a gravity and dignity quite at 
 variance with the general notions of the French character. How 
 much of these results may be ascribed to the presence of the police 
 I don't know ; but at every public gathering at this epoch the 
 Government thought it necessary to see that order was preserved. 
 It may be thought that this was a gross interference with that 
 freedom of discussion, which is the essence of a popular Govern 
 ment ; but opinions were so divided, and passions so inflamed, at 
 this juncture in France, that the first duty of the Government was, 
 at any cost, to prevent brawls that might swell into insurrection and 
 civil war. The President raised no obstacle to the expression of 
 popular feeling; but he made it distinctly known, through his 
 Prefet of Police, whose placards covered France, that he would 
 uphold, inviolate, the public peace at every sacrifice. His resolute 
 language had due effect on the demagogues of all parties, and the 
 community at large breathed freer as the chances of new revolutions 
 diminished.
 
 THE LAST KEVOLT. 45 
 
 I witnessed a curious spectacle at one of the political reunions I 
 attended at this time. It was generally announced that the Prince 
 Napoleon was to preside and would address the meeting. This was 
 only another of the daily incongruities that presented themselves 
 on every side, and afforded lively interest to an impartial looker-on. 
 In England it is common enough for the nobility and even princes of 
 the blood to make public speeches, though it may seem strange in the 
 eyes of a continental monarch to see a nobleman, or royal scion, hand 
 over his opinions for approval or condemnation to the classes socially 
 and politically below them ; but it was a far different sight to behold 
 the nephew of an Emperor, the son of a King, and the cousin of the 
 head of the State, lay aside title and pretension and come down into 
 the arena of public discussion, meeting on terms of perfect equality 
 the intellectual athletae of whatever class or position that chose to 
 pit themselves against him. In England a Prince enjoys prestige 
 and her aristocracy possess privilege and power such as to imbue the 
 lower classes with a servile respect, so that the twaddle of a Lord is 
 often better greeted than the sense of an untitled man ; but France at 
 this moment was en plelne republique ; social and political equality 
 was rigidly enforced, and no superiority but that of real capacity 
 was recognised. Under such circumstances M. Napoleon Bonaparte 
 did not shrink from taking the chair at a gathering of Republicans 
 and Socialists of the lower orders, who would show him no quarter 
 if found inadequate to the occasion. It was in the outskirts of 
 Paris, in the midst of the operative population, that the meeting 
 was to come off, and the place selected, though of vast dimensions, 
 was crammed to suffocation long before the hour appointed. 
 Nothing could be more orderly and well-behaved, though it was 
 evident the audience consisted solely of the labouring class. The 
 curiosity to see the Prince was intense, and when he entered the 

 
 46 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 whole mass rose up in silence to contemplate him. He took his 
 place on a platform, with a table before him, with an easy self- 
 possession that had its effect, for the French are more sensitive to 
 manner than other people. The first sensation was that of wonder 
 at the striking resemblance of young Napoleon to his immortal 
 uncle. "(Jest elonnatit, mais il lui ressemble comma deux pois" 
 was the general exclamation. [" It is astonishing, but he is as like 
 him as two peas."] 
 
 As soon as silence was restored the Prince rose and began his 
 address. His manner was graceful, his elocution fluent, his matter 
 well-assorted, and expressed with a perspicuity and force that the 
 oldest orator might have envied. As he went flowing on without 
 hesitation or effort, uttering the soundest opinions in the concisest 
 language, the surprise and admiration of his auditors broke out in 
 exclamations that showed they had anticipated a different result. 
 Mais il a de I 'esprit, beaucoup imme il jera son chemin celui la. 
 [" Why, he has talent, great talent, even he will make his way, that 
 one there."] The moment the Prince saw that he had obtained com 
 plete ascendancy over his hearers, he carried out the purpose that 
 probably induced him to appear in such a place. He declared him 
 self a friend to equal rights, and therefore a .Republican, but ho 
 derided as impracticable and deceptive the shallow theories circu 
 lating under the name of Socialism. He attacked the dogmas of 
 Louis Blanc with so much decision, and explained their hollowness 
 with so much precision and point, as to carry conviction home to 
 the rude but vigilant minds that caught up every word." He spoke 
 an hour at least, and sat down amid universal enthusiasm. A 
 Socialist got up to reply, and the audience refused to hear him, but the 
 Prince obtained him a hearing ; his oratory, however, was so inferior 
 to that just listened to that he was compelled at last to sit down amid
 
 THE LAST EKVOLT. 47 
 
 general marks of impatience. I am satisfied that tie temperate but 
 resolute assault of M. Napoleon Bonaparte on the spurious doctrines 
 of Socialism, on this occasion, had a deep and rectifying effect. It 
 is only necessary to make the people in France or elsewhere un 
 derstand, as the Prince so clearly did, that " common property" only 
 means common robbery, to stamp Socialism as the code of the idle 
 and desperate, the refuse of society. 
 
 The elections passed over in all parts of France without the least 
 infraction of order, and the results threw the Republican party into 
 dismay. Lamartine, the apostle of the Revolution of '48, who was 
 then elected by acclamation in every quarter of the country, was 
 now silently discarded by every constituency, and consigned to 
 private life a prey, no doubt, to the bitterest reflections. Many 
 people pointed at this as only another instance of the fickleness of the 
 masses, but I marvelled at it as a new proof of their vigilance and 
 discernment. Both Lamartine and the Revolution had wofully dis 
 appointed the just expectations of the French people, and they seized 
 the first occasion to make their indignation known. The Monarchists 
 obtained the majority in the new " Legislative Assembly," and 
 were intoxicated at their unexpected triumph. Instead of in 
 terpreting the rebuke administered to the Republicans as an 
 evidence of popular acumen, they set it down either to their frivolity, 
 or their love of Monarchy. M. Thiers, like poor Lamartine, has 
 lived to learn his error, and to expiate it. 
 
 No sooner did the New Assembly meet, than, believing that the 
 country had really come bank to its first love, the Monarchist*, under 
 the direction of Thiers, Mole and Co., began zealously to imitate 
 the mistakes of their Republican predecessors; and instead of legis 
 lating instantly for the good of the country, they began at once to 
 take the whole political power of the State, Executive as well as
 
 4,8 THE LAST KFA'OLT. 
 
 Legislative into their own hands, meaning, at a convenient moment, 
 to restore the fallen Monarchy. The Eepublican party they consi 
 dered as prostrate, and as for the President, Louis Napoleon, why, in 
 their view, he was a mere nullity. If he lent himself, as expected, 
 to the intrigues of the Monarchists, a good pension would be secured 
 him when the legitimate King was restored ; if he ventured to oppose 
 them he would find his way to a dungeon in Vincennes. 'M. Thiers 
 and his political staff never troubled themselves about Louis Napo 
 leon, whose silent impassibility, in their eyes, passed for dullness and 
 weakness. His opposition to the experience, eloquence, and savoir 
 faire of the leaders of the Monarchists, was laughed to scorn. 
 The Monarchists, too, had the majority in the Assembly, and were 
 justified in saying the country was with them. Would the Presi 
 dent dare, then, to withhold his signature to any laws they chose 
 to make? 
 
 Whilst the Monarchists were absorded in their intrigues Louis 
 Napoleon was, doubtless, studying the nexv phase of things. He 
 knew exactly what France wanted, and he was, apparently, the only 
 politician that did. The Republicans had played the fool, and were 
 dismissed. Would the Monarchists imitate them, and share the 
 same fate ? Keenly and eagerly must he have watched their course, 
 for his career depended on it. His r6le was becoming delicate and 
 diflicult. The first year of his Presidency he had only to stand 
 aside, a calm spectator of the contest between the Republican and 
 Monarchical parties. The latter was victorious, and he alone fore 
 saw the deadly combat likely to ensue between them and himself. 
 The thing was clear enough. If the Monarchists were true to the 
 country, his time was short ; but if, as always, despising the in 
 terests of the masses, they employed power only to aggrandize 
 themselves, then it remained for him, after what fashion he pleased,
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 49 
 
 to give the country a chance to choose between them. For the 
 present he had nothing to do but stand on the defensive, and let 
 M. Thiers and the other leaders of the Monarchists play out 
 their game. 
 
 It may be supposed that when the Republican party found them 
 selves repudiated by the people, and in a minority in the Assembly, 
 where only a year ago their sway was supreme, their mortification 
 knew no bounds. The leaders in the Assembly would have consented, 
 with the usual pliancy of politicians, to submit to circumstances 
 with the best grace possible ; not so, however, that influential class 
 of demagogues out of doors who were in close connection with the 
 riotous and disorderly always abounding in a great metropolis, and 
 whose influence arose from their skill in organizing street con 
 spiracies. I have encountered not a few of these gentry in France, 
 and in talent and courage they surpass those of all other countries, 
 whilst in disinterestedness they are no worse than their betters. 
 The street-leaders of the French Kepublicans and Socialists natu 
 rally expected, when they succeeded, to get their share of place 
 and power. " To the victor belongs the spoils" is an ancient motto. 
 The Revolution of '48 did wonders for many a gentleman of the 
 back slums who crept from dark holes and corners into numberless 
 snug places with small salaries attached. It may have been their 
 original intention to abolish, when they obtained the power, all 
 these "vile sinecures" which they had so often denounced, and to 
 carry Socialism into effect for the benefit of the mob if not 
 fot themselves. But it is well known that circumstances alter 
 opinions, and perhaps they foresaw that, if faithful to their pro 
 fessions, they swept away abuses, the people might be the better 
 off but that they assuredly would not be. This must have cost 
 them a little perplexity, but as the problem was hard to solve, they
 
 50 THE LAST RKVOLT. 
 
 concluded to leave well alone, and instead of demolishing Bureau 
 cracy, they appropriated its salaries, leaving their dupes in the 
 street to console themselves with the high-sounding decree that 
 " they had deserved well of the country," and of mankind in 
 general. 
 
 The election of May, '49, must have been a thunderbolt for the 
 Republican chiefs, high and low, and whether they suspected the 
 people to be sharper than they thought, or believed, like the Royalists, 
 that they didn't know their own minds, it was still clear that some 
 thing must be done to preserve the pleasant retreats they had 
 secured. It was settled by the demagogues of the Faubourg that 
 a demonstration in the streets would be the best thing, as it would 
 frighten the Royalists and awe the Government into making a 
 compromise, and allowing them to keep what they had got in the 
 scramble of February, '48. This was not at all acceptable to the 
 more experienced leaders of the party in the Assembly, for they 
 perceived that the populace of Paris, like the masses of the 
 country, were cured of their illusions, and that any attempt at 
 revolution, even in sham, would recoil upon the heads of its authors. 
 The foremost man of the ultra lie publican party in- the Assembly 
 was Ledru Rollin. A lawyer by profession, he distinguished him 
 self by his oratory and popular professions in the Chamber of 
 Deputies, under Louis Philippe. He was less conspicuous than 
 Lamartine and others in the Revolution of '48, for he was, then, 
 less known ; but as these had all vanished from the scene. Ledru 
 Rollin was the recognised head of the Red Republicans in May, '49. 
 
 Without questioning his zeal for his principles, there is no de 
 nying that Ledru Rollin had all along displayed a degree of prudence 
 that did credit to his shrewdness. He was always ready to speak 
 for his cause, and no one could do it better ; but he had all a
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 51 
 
 politician's aversion to dying for it. From all the street battles that 
 had occurred during the previous year, whatever he may have had 
 to do with the intrigues that led to them, he had kept himself clear : 
 and to avoid figuring as an actor in the massacre of June, '48, he 
 betook himself to the best position possible for contemplating it as 
 a spectator. The very spot has been pointed out to me by the 
 Count de Nieuvkerk, on the leads of the Louvre, where he lay in 
 concealment till the dreadful tragedy was over in the streets below. 
 I am far from seeking to insinuate aught against the courage of 
 Ledru Rollin there is no Frenchman without it but I aim simply 
 to show what shifts he was put to only to escape being mixed up 
 with events that would have sent him to prison or to exile. Conse 
 quently, when the proposition reached him in June. '49, to raise 
 the barricades once more, he replied by a flat refusal to take any part 
 in it. Nothing could be more sensible ; but a man who plays at 
 revolution must be prepared for the freaks of revolutionists. It 
 was one of the most daring of these who stepped forward at this 
 crisis and told Ledra Rollin that his turn had come, and that he 
 must choose either to put himself at the head of the intended 
 movement, or Lave his brains blown out. 
 
 " This," said the speaker, " has been decided au comite, and 
 I am delegated to receive your answer." He drew a pistol from 
 his pocket as he spoke, and his resolution was known to be equal 
 to the act. Ledru Eollin, like a man of sense, chose the least of 
 two evils, and preferred the chances of exile to the certainty of 
 dying by the hand of a fellow Republican. Neither roofs nor cellars 
 afforded refuge this time, for he was surrounded by men not to 
 be trifled with. 
 
 Preparations were then rapidly made for a final attempt to over 
 throw the Government, and to plunge France again into the 
 
 E
 
 52 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 foaming vortex of revolution. The motives of these misguided 
 men must be apparent enough. The most of them only sought 
 their own gain at the sacrifice of the country. Some of them 
 were furious at the Eevolution of '48 falling into the hands of 
 Lamartine, whom they considered an aristocrat in disguise ; but 
 what they meant to do, if they got the power, besides cutting 
 people's heads off, and appropriating their property, was a perfect 
 mystery to themselves. If the leaders of the proposed revolt had 
 either been honest or intelligent, they would not have resorted to 
 violence whilst universal suffrage was the law of the land. What 
 could be more illogical or absurd ? They were rebelling against 
 their own doctrines and proving their ignorance of true Repub 
 licanism in seeking to overthrow what the will of the people had 
 created. They were stung, no doubt, that in '49 the people 
 gave the majority to the Monarchists, which in '48 was bestowed 
 on the Republicans. If this reaction arose from their own proved 
 incapacity or bad faith, they should have hid themselves in sack- 
 cloth and ashes. If, however, they considered the nation too pre 
 cipitate in rejecting them, their only course was to appeal to it 
 through their orators and journals. It would have defied the 
 ingenuity of both, and they knew it, to explain why, instead of 
 diminishing taxation, the revolutionary Government had shamefully 
 increased it. This single act convinced the country they were 
 Republicans only in name, and as they felt it useless to sophisticate, 
 they proposed forcing themselves on the nation whether they would 
 or no. Such insane conduct as this served only to elate the Mo 
 narchical party, who saw it would strengthen them and bring more 
 disgrace on the Republican name. The President of the Republic 
 kept his eye upon all that passed, and without troubling his mind 
 about the notions or sentiments of individuals or parties, quietly
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 55 
 
 made up his mind to perform fearlessly the duty allotted to him 
 and to preserve order against whoever assailed it. 
 
 It became every day more and more evident that the Republicans 
 were getting ready for a desperate effort, which the moderate men, 
 such as Cavaignac and Dufaure, would have prevented if they 
 could. The ultra journals of the party teemed daily with furious 
 invectives against the Government and the Monarchists of the 
 Assembly. " Pnudhon, the Socialist, in a journal which he 
 edited, made the most grotesque efforts to excite sedition and 
 to acquire notoriety. He declared, in a phrase that he thought 
 would immortalize him, that " Property was robbery," (la pro 
 priety, cest le volj, and pointed in proof of it to the condition 
 of society in Europe and America. If he had limited his tirades 
 against property to that portion of it which lie could show was 
 the result of unjust laws, well and good; but was that a rea 
 son why property acquired by intelligence and industry in spite 
 of such laws should be confiscated ? This conceited Socialist 
 proposed to raze society to its foundations, for the pleasant occu 
 pation of reconstructing the world politically and morally anew 
 after patent plans of his own, whose efficacy he cried up with all the 
 fervour of a charlatan, and all the insincerity of a demagogue. 
 This wholesale reformer carried his impious audacity to the point 
 of scoffing at all religion, and of denying the existence of the 
 Deity le Dieu, c'est moi (God, that's myself!), was another of his 
 odious phrases. The greater the disgust of sensible people the 
 greater the delight of M. Pro.idhon, for notoriety, at any cost, 
 was food for his vanity, and he revelled in that acquired bj 
 ridiculous means, from his inability to obtain it in any other \vay. 
 The days of Anacharsis Cloots are gone by, and France, as well 
 as the rest of the world, is advanced too far into the 19th century 
 to listen seriously to the shallow ravings of idiots like Proudon.
 
 54 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 As June wore on the din of discord rose higher. Menaces loud 
 and deep resounded in the Republican camp, and one day in the 
 Assembly, Ledru Rollin, after an intemperate speech, launched the 
 threat of an appeal to arras. Signs of apprehension began to per 
 vade Paris, and all classes dreaded some fearful catastrophe. I was 
 assured by one of the Red Republicans that the houses of the rich 
 were all marked fcr plunder ; and I was earnestly advised to pro 
 vide myself with a red cap and a dirty blouse as a protection against 
 the fury of the mob. It was impossible to know how far disaffec 
 tion spread, or what were the resources of the emeutiers, bnt deep 
 uneasiness prevailed from the conviction that their intentions were 
 bloody, and that their struggle would be desperate, as it would be 
 the last. 
 
 At this moment of feverish suspense a new terror suddenly ap 
 peared in the shape of a ravaging pestilence. Tne cholera, after 
 a fitful prelude of some days, broke out with appalling violence, 
 and nothing was heard on every side but sounds of fear and woe. 
 One would have thought that even the fury of murderous revolt 
 would have yielded before such a piteous spectacle of universal 
 distress, and have dropped from its parricidal hand the red brand 
 of discord ; but, on the contrary, it seized on this moment as the 
 most opportune to effect its sinister purposes. 
 
 It was on the 13th of June, when the mortality was so great that 
 the dead were carried off uncoffined in waggon-loads and thrown into 
 pits, that the rumour spread through the streets of Paris that the 
 barricades were erecting in the Faubourg St. Antoiae. The tidings 
 then came that Ledru Hollin, with sundry colleagues, had installed 
 themselves in one of the public buildings (the School of Arts and 
 Trades), and had constituted themselves into, a Provisional Govern 
 ment. Every shop was closed throughout the metropolis, and every
 
 THE LAST REVOLT. 55 
 
 door and avenue bolted and barred in dread anticipation of the 
 conflict. The streets were stripped of population, and their deserted 
 and silent aspect at mid-day had an ominous and unnatural appear 
 ance. The news began to circulate that the insurrection was 
 on march and was coming down the Boulevardes on its way to 
 the Assembly. People wondered not to hear the rappel beating 
 in the streets as usual, not to see the troops in motion, and 
 parties of horse flying about to add to the general alarm. They 
 trembled lest the Government, in dismay, would allow, as had 
 so often happened, the revolt to get the upper hand. Down came 
 the Revolutionists in great numbers, shouting for "Liberty!" 
 " Equality ! " and " Fraternity ! " and really believing the day was 
 their own, from the absence of any signs of resistance. They were 
 just crossing the broad avenue of the Rue de la Paix when they 
 were unexpectedly assailed by a powerful force of cavalry, with 
 General Changarnier at their head, that dashed with fiery im 
 petuosity through their midst, cutting them in two, and throwing 
 them into such dire confusion, as to leave no resource but flight. 
 In five minutes the Insurrection, which had been ushered in with so 
 much fracas, and had weighed so heavily for weeks on the public 
 mind, was at an end without firing a gun or killing a man. The 
 President, serene amid pestilence and rebellion, had coolly planned 
 a military coup de main worthy the genius of his uncle. I witnessed 
 its execution, and the feverish, absorbing eagerness for the result 
 which till now enchained me, suddenly gave place to feelings of 
 unchecked merriment at this unlooked-for and grotesque denouement 
 of the Red Republican programme. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Provisional Government, with Ledru Rollin 
 for its reluctant chief, were hard at work up town risum teneatis 
 turning out Decrees of all sorts and sizes, totally unmindful
 
 56 THE LAST REVOLT. 
 
 that the Irish recipe for cookmg a fish is quite as applicable to 
 Revolutions, and that both must be caught and secured before 
 they can be appropriated to use. The grave deliberations of 
 these devoted patriots were unceremoniously disturbed by some 
 ill-mannered policemen, who rushed into their Council Chamber, 
 and bid them surrender, as the building was already in posses 
 sion of the Troops. This was just such an occasion as the 
 Romans of old would have chosen for dying on their swords, 
 martyrs to their cause, but such heroism is out of fashion nowa 
 days, and the Provisional Government, scarcely an hour old, put 
 an end to its existence by precipitately leaping right and left out ol 
 the windows that were, happily, not far from the ground, a pre- 
 Odiition that may have been taken. The next heard of them was 
 their safe arrival in England or Switzerland, glad enough of their 
 escape, but as ready to serve their country, and pocket the profits, 
 as ever. This was the inglorious end of Red Republicanism in 
 France, which, from the breaking out of the Revolution in February, 
 '48, had made several fierce attempts to obtain the ascendancy, 
 that were, happily, frustrated.
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A LITEliARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 The lied Republicans and Socialists, the party of violence, was, 
 as I have shown, finally suppressed, and Prance was now left in the 
 hands of Parliamentary tacticians. Henceforth, art, not blows ; in 
 trigues, not barricades ; argument, not cannon-shot, were to decide 
 on the destinies of the country. It is important to take a cursory 
 glance at the position of the pieces in the political game of chess 
 now to begin. Let us look at the Assembly for a moment. On the 
 right, la droile, sat the Monarchists in majority, whose votes, there 
 fore, gave law to the land, but, unluckily for themselves, they were 
 divided into two (actions. The Orleanists, with M. Thiers, wished 
 for a king and parliamentary institutions ; that is a King Log to 
 reign, with a legislative body to govern him and the country. 
 This would have made M. Thiers, or whoever was leader of the 
 legislative majority, a king de facto, as in England, where the Prime 
 Minister is Absolute. The Legitimists, with M. Berryer, aimed 
 at the old style of monarchy, a king both to reign and govern 
 with as little interference as possible from those modern inventions, 
 legislative bodies. These two branches of Monarchists, with dif 
 ferent creeds, could work harmoniously against any third party 
 that threatened their interests, but it was evident when they got rid 
 of all opposition they must fight between themselves for the 
 supremacy. 
 
 On the left of the Assembly, la gancJte. sat the Republicans, 
 shorn of their ultra members, now in exile or in prison. They
 
 58 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 were in the minority, and downcast from the conviction of having 
 played their role badly. General Cavaignac was their recognised 
 .leader. 
 
 In the centre, le centre, sat a number of respectable gentle 
 men, such as M. Dufaure, &c., who eschewed the Monar 
 chists, doubting if they would get up agaiu, and who shyed the 
 Kepublicans, as they seemed going down. They were in the best 
 position for jumping down on the strongest side when it was dis 
 covered. I may add, that the cousin of the President, Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, was a member of the Assembly, and sat among the 
 Republicans, at which the Monarchists sneered visibly. As he 
 was neither an Orleanist nor a Legitimist, he could not appear 
 amongst them. To have taken his place in the centre would show 
 he was against the Republic, the form of government existing, 
 which was not the case, and so he naturally sat on the left. This 
 was the condition of the Assembly in the autumn of '49. 
 
 The President of the Republic, as I have shewn, had hitherto 
 kept aloof from the contests of the Monarchists and the Republicans 
 from reasons as prudent as patriotic. He perceived that neither 
 sought the good of the nation, but merely their own advantage. 
 The time, however, had come when isolation was no longer 
 possible. The Constitution divided the powers of the State be 
 tween the Executive and the Legislative that is, between the 
 President and the Assembly. This was well enough ; but the error 
 of its Republican framers was not to define distinctly the attributes 
 of each. This was designed, no doubt, to prevent the Executive 
 doing anything without the concurrence of the Legislature ; but 
 why, then, leave him any initiative whatever ? 
 
 The President had the command of the Army and Navy, as well 
 as all the vast patronage of the State. The Assembly had the
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 59 
 
 control of the Finances, and could, further, pass laws every hour 
 of the day to illegalize what the Executive did. The Constitution 
 was, therefore, so badly planned as to render harmony between these 
 two co-ordinate powers very unlikely, and even impossible, if they 
 entertained different views. The duration of the Republic was, 
 therefore, a matter of accident. The Monarchists at this epoch 
 had no misgivings as to the future. Taking the President to be 
 nothing else than a doll in their hands, a rivalry was springing up 
 between the Orleanists and Legitimists to obtain his adhesion to 
 their separate projects. 
 
 It was rumoured that M. Thiers was planning a marriage be 
 tween the President and the l)uchess of Orleans, in order to get 
 back the fallen dynasty with Parliamentary institutions. M. Ber- 
 ryer, it was supposed, was seeking to effect a pleasant arrangement 
 between the President and the Count de Chambord, in the hope 
 to set the old dynasty on its legs again. The Republicans eyed 
 these manoeuvres with considerable relish, knowing they would 
 regain their ascendancy if the Monarchical majority broke in twain. 
 All these schemes and illusions were suddenly scattered for ever by 
 a blast as sweeping as unexpected. A thunder-bolt in mid-winter 
 could not have been more startling. All the leaders of party were 
 petrified, like Don Bartolo in the opera, and stood gazing on 
 vacancy, motionless and dumb. 
 
 A letter appeared one day in the papers from the President to 
 his Aide-de-Camp, Colonel Ney, wherein enough was said to prove 
 he was not the pliant, timid, incapable tool the politicians of 
 France had taken him to be ; but that he had a mind of his own, 
 and meant to show it. The moment had arrived, as I said, for the 
 President to manifest himself. He saw there was nothing in com 
 mon between him and the selfish politicians that agitated the
 
 60 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 country. Orleanists, Legitimists, Republicans, and Socialists, 
 they were all alike. A stable Government, wise Legislation, the 
 developement of the country, the good of the masses these things 
 never entered the heads of one of them. They sought power 
 merely for emolument, fur their personal benefit, not for the 
 national welfare. I will not assert the President was more disin 
 terested or patriotic than the others, but it is evident he was more 
 sagacious. He believed the French people both intelligent and 
 resolute, and attributed the downfall of preceding Governments to 
 the obstinacy or blindness of Statesmen in ignoring so plain a fact. 
 A politician now-a-days who derides the common sense of the 
 masses builds his projects on sand. There was no choice for the 
 President but to truckle to the leaders of the Assembly, or to 
 champion the cause of the nation. It was a fearful decision to 
 make. His career, his name, his head, wore in the scale. Arrayed 
 against him was the entire Assembly, Monarchists and Republicans. 
 Each was willing to use him as a stepping-stone ; but all were 
 ready to bury their antipathies, and to make a mockery of their 
 principles to overthrow him if he should attempt to rescue the 
 country out of their hands. 
 
 The position of the President was singular and interesting ; 
 without a party or followers ; his very Ministers deserting him at 
 every crisis ; his best friends vacillating and alarmed; his conviction 
 in the wisdom of his policy aud the discernment of the people 
 must have been profound indeed to encourage him to stand up 
 against all the chiefs of all the parties of France, with all their 
 experience, ability, and renown. His designs, however, were 
 unknown. Did he mean to overthrow the Republic ? Did he 
 aspire to set up the Empire? No one knew. He appealed to 
 the hopes of none, and risked the opposition of all. I remember
 
 A LITERAKY ADVENTURE. 61 
 
 no parallel in history. His Uncle had devoted friends at the head 
 of the Army. Cromwell was the agent of a pervading fanaticism. 
 Augustus openly aimed at Empire. The President Bonaparte, 
 with no interest in the Army, no hold on the nation, his purpose 
 unspoken, modestly made known, as already stated in his letter 
 to Edgar Ney, that he would not bow down his head to the idols of 
 the Assembly, either Monarchical or B,epublican. 
 
 The first shock of astonishment over, measures were decided on 
 to put an end to this unseemly refractoriness. The Orleanists and 
 Legitimists dropped at once the discussion of their rival dynasties, 
 and M. Thiers and Berryer united zealously to bring the President 
 to his senses. They still considered him a mere child in politics, and 
 regarded his late mutiny as a juvenile freak, which a little discipline 
 would cure. The extra allowance which in a confiding moment they 
 had voted him was promptly cut off. The Ministers of the President 
 who, in imitation of English usage, were members of the Assembly 
 and belonged to the Monarchical party, were threatened with 
 proscription. So intemperate in conduct were these enraged 
 leaders of the majority that there was imminent prospect of the 
 Government coming to a stand-still from the want of co-operation 
 between the Executive and the Legislative, and worse still, the 
 country Avas in clanger of being thrown into violent commotion 
 from their open hostility. In truth, a collision was aimed at by 
 the Monarchists with a view to plunge poor Prance once more into 
 all the horrors of a Socialist revolution, for, said they, " after the 
 deluge we must come." 
 
 I heard this odious confession frequently in the mouths 
 of Monarchists, whose hope was not only to get rid of 
 the President, but to make France despair so entirely of poli 
 tical redemption as to cause her to relapse into Monarchy for a
 
 62 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 century to come. This fact ought to speak trumpet-tongued to 
 all classes and all countries as a proof of the unscrupulousness of 
 politicians when interest or ambition inspire them. 
 
 The President was aware of their heinous design, and determined 
 to thwart it. Instead of rushing into violent warfare with the As 
 sembly, he frequently yielded to the tyranny of the majority. Some 
 times he changed his Ministers to gratify their caprice ; at others, he 
 withdrew propositions for the good of the country which the Mo 
 narchists ridiculed or opposed. By this cautious manreuvring the 
 President lulled the anger of the coryphees of the Assembly, and 
 confirmed their old delusion that, after all, he was only an unruly 
 gamin, who could be managed by their superior adroitness. One 
 result of this state of things was the prolongation of the Republic. 
 The President had no intention to assail it ; the Monarchists 
 wished to upset it, but not till all was ready ; the Republicans 
 were anxious, of course, to preserve it. Danger environed it, but 
 its existence was more seriously imperilled by its own organic 
 defects than by the animosity of its enemies. There were many 
 sensible people who, caring more for the welfare of the country 
 than the success of parties, thought that as the Republic was 
 existing the best thing was to get it into good working condition, 
 so as to make a permanent thing of it. All that France wanted 
 was stability, and the Republic might, if properly organized, 
 become the best neutral ground for parties of all shades to meet 
 on, and where their contests might be pursued without trampling 
 on the tranquillity of the nation. 
 
 Some set to work penetrating the mysteries of the far- 
 famed British Constitution, which either from the perfection 
 of its machinery, or the skill with which it was administered, 
 had for many years secured for England a large share of or-
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. . 63 
 
 der, liberty, and material prosperity. Other publicists directed 
 their inquiring glance across the Atlantic, and began to investi 
 gate the handiwork of the sages of '87, which had hitherto 
 solved the problem that order and prosperity were compatible with 
 equality of classes and complete liberty of speech and action. 
 The journals and reviews of France teemed with Constitutional 
 discussions ; but from want of practical knowledge, the best 
 intentioned writers so obscured and complicated the subject, now 
 treating it too philosophically, and then too elaborately, that the 
 middle and lower classes, who were anxious for their own sakes to 
 know the difference between a good Constitution and a bad one, 
 gave up the hope in despair. To make the contusion worse, the 
 ablest Monarchical writers, who had the most journals at command, 
 misrepresented everything with so much art that if the Abbe 
 Sieyes himself had come back to life he would have been cruelly 
 bothered how to decide. 
 
 I remarked that the shrewdest polemists left the British 
 Constitution pretty much to itself, partly because it was not 
 written and depended only on usage, but more, because it 
 was found an ingenious puzzle as it stood, and required no 
 misconstruction to heighten its mystery. Moreover, M. Thiers 
 and the Orleanists desired nothing better than to set up a pattern 
 of the British Constitution in France, that is, a King without 
 power, a House of Peers to play dummy, and a House of Com- 
 7H011S to monopolize all the work, with a Prime Minister at its 
 .head, absolute master of the Government and country. This was 
 just the thing to suit ambitious statesmen in France and elsewhere, 
 and if all such were as good men and true as Sully and Colbert, 
 the British Constitution might be copied with advantage. The 
 experiment, however, had been tried three times in France, under
 
 64 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 Louis XVIII., Charles X., and Louis Philippe, and failed. What the 
 Monarchists most feared was the chance of the Federal Constitution 
 of the United States becoming known at this time in France ; for if 
 the ricketty framework of the Republic were readjusted after the 
 American model, the probability was great that neither Monarchy 
 with Parliamentary institutions or without would be seen in France 
 again. Consequently, the pens of ths ablest political foes of the 
 Kepublic were frequently at work disfiguring and belying the un 
 defended charter of '87, consecrated by the names of Washington 
 and Franklin. 
 
 I often wondered that no American in Paris took up the cudgels 
 for the sake of truth, if not from patriotic motives and certainly 
 no one was more competent than Mr. Rives, who had succeeded Mr. 
 Rush as our Minister to France ; but his official position probably 
 restrained him. 
 
 One day in November, ' 1'J, I picked up the Constitutionnel, the 
 organ at that lime of M. Thiers, and read an essay on our Federal 
 Constitution, which falsified it from beginning to end ; and, to my 
 profound surprise, I found it signed with the name of a person 
 professing to be from the State of Ohio. No such individual was 
 known to my countrymen in Paris ; and I afterwards discovered 
 that M. Thiers himself was suspected to be the author of the paper 
 in question, but, to add to its weight, had cunningly given it an 
 American origin. My patriotism boiled over at this outrageous 
 ruse, and, with the recklessness of a Yankee, who never reflects till 
 he is in a " fix," I rushed down into the arena of journalism, re-- 
 solved to defend the Constitution; but consoled at knowing that 
 neither it nor myself would perish in the attempt. I sat down in 
 my lodgings without a book of any kind, not even a copy of the 
 charter itself before me, and, worse than all, had to write in
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 65 
 
 French. After pommelling my brains vigorously for a couple of 
 days, I got together a dozen pages or more of manuscript, which 
 expressed all I had to say more or less clearly. 
 
 To make the American part of my story more interesting, I drew 
 comparisons with the state of things in England and France. I 
 was rather afraid of being accused of meddling with what did not 
 concern me, and, therefore, handled French affairs with delicacy, 
 whilst I hit right and left at that venerable sham, the British Con 
 stitution. 
 
 Firing at random sometimes brings a prize ; and some time after 
 I discovered that I had winged a splendid one, indeed, as I shall 
 show. I carried off my handiwork to the organ of the Republican 
 party, the National, of which M. Caylus was the editor, in place 
 of M. ivaarrast, and explained the motives that had led to its pro 
 duction. M. Caylus, who had lived a good deal in the United 
 States, thought that a lucid exposition of such a subject would be 
 equally interesting and important, and promised me its early and 
 prominent insertion in his columns. 
 
 For several days I enjoyed the tickling consciousness of having 
 " clone the State some service ; " and as this was the first time, 
 after many vagaries, that I had ever written a political essay, I 
 anticipated, with great relish, the genuine surprise of my friends 
 at seeing me transformed into a ready-made publicist. Alas, for 
 my aspirations ! I received at the end of a week my manuscript 
 back again, with a polite note from M. Caylus to the effect that a 
 committee of the editors had perused my lucubrations and decided 
 not to publish them in the National. This was mortifying and 
 perplexing. Were my views so commonplace, and the style so 
 bald, as to motive the rejection, which M. Caylus was too civil to 
 say ? or had I reflected with too much impartiality on the political
 
 66 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 bantling brought forth by the Republican party, which the National 
 represented ? I was not inclined to abandon the job I had begun, 
 and deliberated how to go to work next. I split my essay into 
 three parts the first on the United States' Constitution, the 
 second on the British, the third on the French thinking that if I 
 could get the first two doses down the throat of any journalist, 
 I would have less difficulty in making him gulp the last and 
 hardest one. 
 
 There was one journal in Paris independent of party, of great 
 circulation, and edited with brilliant ability by the celebrated 
 Emile de Girardin. I knew he dared do all an editor dared, and 
 a good deal more, so I never feared that he would publish iny 
 matter if he thought it worth the honor of a place in his columns. 
 I called on him forthwith. He perused my commentaries on the 
 American Constitution with deep attention in my presence, when 
 he said, in his abrupt way, 
 
 " Vest bicn (This is wail;; I will publish it." 
 
 " I have also attempted an analysis of the British Government," 
 T added. 
 
 " If it is equal to this," he continued, " I will insert it." 
 
 " These two. however," I remarked, " are only preliminary to a 
 third paper on French affairs." 
 
 " Indeed !" he said, with great animation, " I should like to see 
 that, and if it does not fall below the rest I will publish it readily." 
 
 I was glad to find one journalist in France who preferred the 
 interests of the country to those of party, and was disposed to give 
 all sides a fair hearing in the hope of aiding truth. 
 
 The political organisation of France was at this time the vital 
 question, and yet the Republican organ refused the opinions of an 
 American democrat, which the independent journal published 

 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 67 
 
 This fact proves that I have not exaggerated in declaring that in 
 '49 the French politicians, both Republican and Monarchical, were 
 solely bent on their own good, whatever the consequences to their 
 country. On the 21st of November my first sketch was launched 
 on the political world, and the effect was flattering enough to my 
 self love. My countrymen of all grades, after their surprise was 
 over, expressed their satisfaction in round terms. This was highly 
 important, of course, and I was, next, anxious to see what the 
 French thought of the matter. In society I was highly compli 
 mented, but the newspapers were silent. This I anticipated, for I 
 thought they would likely be indisposed to contend with me on 
 my own ground. 
 
 On the 13th of December I fired my second battery point blank 
 at the penetrable sides of the British Constitution. This did con 
 siderable execution. The French of all parties, save the Orleanists, 
 rubbed their hands in private, and exceedingly relished this Yankee 
 bang at the imposing theory of King, Lords, and Commons, so 
 ludicrously evaded in practice. Many of the French said " This 
 is the first time I ever got a distinct idea of ce tortillement incroya- 
 ble, la constitution Anglaise," (that incredible twistification, the 
 English Constitution,) to which, of course, I bowed low. The 
 English were quite startled at this Transatlantic ebullition. The 
 knowing ones, I mean especially the statesmen in power, resolved 
 at once to manage me, if possible, as I will show bye and bye. 
 I must except Lord Brougham, though, whom I met in Paris 
 soon after this, and in thanking me for the allusion I had 
 made to him, said, " he esteemed it both a compliment and 
 an honour." Such language to me from Lord Brougham 
 made me think I had not written atlogether in vain. Still 
 
 P
 
 68 A LITERACY ADVENTURE. 
 
 the Paris journals were dumb, though the London Times quoted 
 portions of my No. 2. 
 
 Last of all came my sugar-coated pill for the French them 
 selves. The Monarchists put on a smiling face, like well-bred 
 people when swallowing anything unpleasant. My Republican 
 friends, on the contrary, indulged in a deal of grimace, and 
 uttered their dissatisfaction in tones not loud, but deep. To 
 my unalloyed astonishment the French press, so celebrated for 
 its intrepid spirit of controversy, refused to enter the lists 
 of discussion, and contented itself with simply quoting a para 
 graph here and there from my letters to suit some party pur 
 pose. I was not forced to conclude that my views were considered 
 too crude for refutation, for in private I received the most flattering 
 compliments from the first men of France and other countries. 
 Several English journals reviewed me at some length, and the 
 Spectator more especially did me the honour of a criticism of se 
 veral columns and of striking power. It was undeniable, therefore, 
 that the journalists of Paris hesitated to pick up the gauntlet, 
 because my facts were indisputable, and my treatment of them 
 entirely candid and impartial. I sought not to favour the projects 
 of party, but to interpret politics in such a fashion as to entice the 
 nation into a clearer inspection of its own interests. To avoid a 
 discussion that might have been detrimental to the designs of party, 
 but in that proportion advantageous to the country, was, doubtless, 
 a judicious step on the part of the political leaders who controlled 
 the press of Paris, but it was proof at the same time that their 
 motives were both selfish and unpatriotic. 
 
 I have said enough, of these newspaper effusions to excite the 
 curiosity, likely, of some of my readers, whom I refer, therefore, 
 to the appendix, where they will find them at full length. To
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 69 
 
 those who take less interest in such arid but important questions 
 I will venture here on a brief summary. 
 
 I undertook to demonstrate in my first essay that in both an 
 cient and modern society there were three elements. A leading 
 man or men ; an intelligent class ; and the multitude. The well 
 known Greek words show they existed then. Monos, ^ristos, 
 Demus one, the best, the many. In England, at the present day, 
 the same elements are expressed by King, Lords, and Commons. 
 From this I inferred that a Government to be durable must re 
 present these elements, and that from the world's record society 
 had suffered, and government had perished, because they were either 
 not represented or badly combined together. I showed that the 
 profoundest thinkers of the world, ancient and modern, had declared 
 that this mixed government was the best ; but, also, that the greatest 
 legislators of all ages had constantly failed to establish a government 
 of this nature. I indicated the errors of Lycurgus at Sparta, and 
 of Eomulus at Borne. The great problem then remained, how to 
 unite in harmonious action the three elements spoken of that were 
 naturally hostile to each other, but with common interests. I de 
 clared that the first successful instance in history of a mixed Go 
 vernment was the Federal Constitution of the United States. I 
 explained that herein not only was the supreme power divided into 
 executive and legislative, and the legislative further subdivided 
 so as to represent the intelligent class (aristosj and the many 
 (demus), but that the grand merit of the sages of '87 was to have 
 found the way to adjust these elemental forces in a manner that 
 all would work ; work equally., and therefore, lastingly. If my de 
 monstration is logical, and my deductions true, then, it is clear 
 that the signers of the Constitution of '87 are entitled to the 
 " vast renown" of having invented a model Government, which
 
 70 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 must be coeval with time if Us system of checks and balances are 
 preserved inviolate. Here is the great danger. 
 
 In ray review of the British Constitution I showed that a mixed 
 Government representing the three elements unequally, entitled 
 King, Lords, and Commons, sprung naturally from the situation of 
 the country after the Conquest of 1066. From the imperfect ba 
 lance of these elements it followed in England as in other countries, 
 and ages, that the Government was overthrown, first, by the de 
 mocratic element in 1640, and next, by the aristocratic element in 
 1688. I proved that since then the Monarchical and Democratic 
 elements have had no Constitutional existence, and that the supreme 
 power was no longer divided between a mixed Government, but was 
 monopolized by the aristocratic element or intelligent class, which 
 Government is called an Oligarchy. I explained, further, that at 
 all epochs Government had been more or less influenced by four 
 great classes, representing the four cardinal passions of the heart 
 the love of religion, the love of war, the love of knowledge, and 
 the love of gain that is, by the priest, the soldier, the thinker, and 
 the capitalist. In ancient society Government was swayed by the 
 clerical influence when Theocracies prevailed. In the middle ages 
 the military influence was predominant when Feudality existed. 
 In recent times the literary influence and the financial influence 
 are in the ascendant. I asserted that the legitimate object of Go 
 vernment, the good of the greatest number, was frustrated when 
 any one or more of these influences biassed it for the benefit of 
 the class represented. I demonstrated, finally, that in England 
 the Aristocratic element in possession of the supreme power since 
 1688 had, with a view to maintain its supremacy over its rival 
 elements, the Monarchical and Democratic, conciliated the four 
 influences cited, by bestowing, with a prodigal hind, on the four
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 71 
 
 classes represented, to wife the clerical, military, literary, and 
 financial rank, wealth, and power. By this policy the Oligarchy 
 had prolonged their sway, but it was done at the cost of the masses. 
 
 The political history of France, from the fall of the Eoman 
 Empire, afforded me, in my third letter, an admirable field for 
 testing the theories advanced in the previous ones. It appeared 
 that from the fifth century to the tenth the Monarchical element, 
 supported by the religious influence, had wielded the supreme 
 power. The rise of feudality gave preponderance to the aris 
 tocratic element, sustained by the military influence. Again, 
 under Louis XIV., the Monarchical element regained the supre 
 macy, but this time in conjunction with the religious and military 
 influences. Finally, in 1789, the Democratic element got the 
 mastery, with the aid of the literary and financial influences ; but no 
 combination with its rival elements being possible at that epoch, 
 it lost, in turn, its control of the sovereign power. In '15, '30, 
 and '48, I showed that attempts were made to organize Govern 
 ment on the solid basis of an union of the three elements ; but from 
 design rather than ignorance, they were never brought into har 
 monious balance, and, consequently, their collisions led to suc 
 cessive revolutions. 
 
 In seeking to make my analysis of these letters very brief I may 
 have rendered it somewhat obscure, but a reference to the originals 
 in the appendix will, perhaps, enable the reader to comprehend more 
 fully my meaning. Before quitting this subject I cannot forbear 
 relating a simple incident connected with it. I was at a fete at 
 the Ely see one night soon after the appearance of my third letter 
 in the Presse, when in one of its crowded saloons I encountered 
 the President, surrounded by his usual aorteje. He extended his 
 band towards me with more animation than is his wont, and said
 
 72 A LITERARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 in a loud voice, " Mais, vous avez ecri des chases sttpfrbes" (you 
 have written some fine things). I was sensibly touched by this 
 marked compliment, and made my acknowledgments in a tone of 
 emotion. I thought the occasion, however, very opportune to try 
 my hand at breaking tlirough that reserve no one yet had been 
 able to penetrate. By the existing Constitution the re-elegibility 
 of the President was forbid, and I had pointed that out as au 
 error. I was very curious to know the President's sentiments on 
 this vital point. lu the course of my conversation, therefore, I 
 remarked, 
 
 " Your Highness, no doubt, perceived an allusion to your 
 self in one of my letters." 
 
 " To myself !" he echoed in a tone of surprise. " Xo, I did 
 not To what do you refer ?" 
 
 " In commenting on the Constitution of '48 I declared that the 
 non-re-eligibility of the President was a grave defect, and one 
 which had been avoided in our Constitution of the United States." 
 As I spoke I watched the countenance of the President, which 
 changed its expression for a moment, for he was totally unpre 
 pared for such a side-thrust as this, and he measured at a glance all 
 the importance of his reply. He put his hands calmly behind him, 
 and was just about to speak when Lord Normanby, the British 
 Ambassador, came up to address him, and I was left to speculate 
 upon what he would, could, or might have said on this pregnant 
 point.
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VTSCOUNT PALMEBSTON, 
 
 I left Paris in February of '50, and returned tTiither in August 
 of the same year. During this short interval, the Legislative 
 Assembly. had constantly lost ground in public opinion; for, 
 utterly neglectful of the interests of the country, they were wholly 
 immersed in party intrigues. The Monarchical leaders were, no 
 doubt, deeply annoyed at the inactivity forced upon them by the 
 masterly prudence of the President, whom neither seductions nor 
 provocation could swerve from the independent and national path 
 he had traced out for himself. With a view to coerce him 
 into a more pliant course, the politicians of the Eight reduced 
 the annual salary they had at first voted him. This was as 
 ineffectual as the largesses that were occasionally held out for his 
 acceptance. The President seemed fully conscious that the eye of 
 the nation was directed upon him and the Assembly ; and when 
 he saw the reluctance of the latter to co-operate with him in any 
 salutary measure of policy, he resolved to keep aloof from all con 
 nection with their paltry schemes of party aggrandizement. 
 
 The fall of Ledru Rollin and the ultra Republicans in June, '49, 
 left the field open to the Assembly, which might, by a business-like 
 and patriotic course, have acquired a complete ascendancy over 
 France. Instead of this, the Monarchists had frittered away their 
 opportunities and character by paltry manceuvres against the Pre 
 sident, and a tyrannical persecution of the Republican Opposition.
 
 74 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 In the spring of '50 an event occurred which must have startled 
 the videttes of the Right, for it showed them that opinion was 
 going round again to their opponents. The celebrated writer and 
 ultra Democrat, Eugene Sue, was elected to the Assembly for 
 Paris by a great majority over his Monarchical antagonist. Instead 
 of profiting by this significant warning, M. Thiers and his cohort 
 laid hold of this result as a pretext for putting down universal 
 suffrage, which was nothing else than an act of felo de se. 
 
 A. new law of franchise was hurried through the Assembly and sent 
 in to the President for his signature. Was this only an ingenious 
 trap to involve the President in difficulty ? If he refused to sign 
 this unpopular measure, as it may have beea hoped, it would afford 
 the Monarchists the longed-for opportunity of making open war 
 upon him. If, on the contrary, he identified himself with this blow 
 at the sovereignty of the people, a great object was gained by de 
 stroying his popularity. It must have been an anxious moment 
 for the President ; but he wisely decided to risk temporarily the 
 favor of the people, rather than afford the Monarchists an occasion, 
 by his resistance, to throw the country into violent disorder 
 Besides, the Constitution had given him no veto, and he could not 
 legally refuse to sign the law of M. Thiers, emasculating the 
 suffrage. The responsibility was on the Assembly, and the penalty 
 was sure to be paid one day or the other. 
 
 The position of the President at home, thwarted by all parties, 
 suspected by the patriotic, and, as yet, unknown to the masses, 
 was full enough of perplexity and peril ; but he had quite as diffi 
 cult a role to play with the great Powers of Europe. Russia, 
 Austria, and Prussia sympathized with the exiled Dynasties, whilst 
 they still retained their ancient antipathy to the revolutionary origin 
 of the Bonapartes.
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 75 
 
 These were reasons enough why the Despotisms of the Continent 
 should shrink from fraternization with the French Republic, whilst 
 there was no inducement whatever to enter into friendly relations 
 with a ruler, were he otherwise unobjectionable, whose tenure of 
 power was limited to four short years. 
 
 The President made due allowance for the prejudices and fears 
 of the leading States of Europe, and had the wisdom and inde 
 pendence not to compromise his own position, or lower the dignity 
 of France, by employing any unworthy arts to conciliate them. 
 He must have regarded as a misfortune the league of the Conti 
 nental Governments against him, whilst the Monarchists of the 
 Assembly rightly considered this as the source of their greatest 
 strength, for they all looked forward to the day as not far distant 
 when a second array of invasion would enter France, to establish 
 once more the Bourbon Dynasty. At this critical moment, the 
 summer of '50, the President cast his eyes upon England, which 
 was really in worse odour at this juncture with the Despotisms of 
 the Continent than the French Republic itself. The British 
 Foreign Office was suspected of a lurking sympathy with the 
 revolutionary party, which had so lately menaced every Throne in 
 Europe, and no expression of abhorrence and disgust was strong 
 enough to convey what was thought and felt by Continental States 
 men of that " firebrand " of Downing Street, the detested Lord 
 Palmerston. 
 
 On the fall of the Orleans Dynasty and the appearance of the 
 Republic, in '48, the English Ambassador in Paris, Lord Nor- 
 rnanby, had immediate instructions to recognize it ; and from that 
 moment the English Government had manifested the rational 
 desire to live on friendly terms with France, whatever might be its 
 form of Government. During the two years that had elapsed the
 
 76 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 Prime Minister of England, Lord John Eussell, had not manifested 
 in his acts or words any wish to cultivate relations with the Prince 
 Louis Napoleon to the extent of compromising his standing with 
 the Continental Powers; still it was observed that the English 
 Envoy was constantly seen at the elbow of the President. It was 
 only known to the initiated few that this assiduousness was in 
 obedience to the orders of the Secretary of the Foreign Office, 
 Lord Palmerston, and that neither the Prime Minister nor the 
 English Court approved of it. 
 
 It was little dreamt of at the time by Lord Palmerston, or the 
 President, or any one else, that Lord Normanby, in compliance 
 with secret instructions from the highest quarters, was only 
 paying outward homage to the President, whilst, unsuspected, 
 he was intriguing for the interests of the Orleans Dynasty. 
 Tt is hardly fair to blame Lord Normanby for this diplomatic 
 jugglery, until it is quite decided whether he was bound to 
 carry out the policy of the Foreign Secretary, or yield to the 
 wishes of still loftier personages. It is clear from this that a 
 double game was playing, which finally ended in a catastrophe, as all 
 trickery usually does. The President felt quite sure of the apparent 
 sympathy of the English Secretary for Foreign Affairs, yet he 
 must have been puzzled at the well-bred distance so steadily main 
 tained by the British Government towards him. The policy of the 
 English Prime Minister at this epoch may be easily explained. 
 As the head of an Oligarchy, he naturally shrunk from too close a 
 connection with a Republic, and, above all, with a Republic on so 
 unstable a foundation as that of France unquestionably was. 
 Besides, the Dynasty and Government of England were bound by 
 indent alliance, ties of sympathy, and bonds of political interest, 
 to the Continental Powers, and, furthermore, both must have been
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 77 
 
 naturally averse to form too dangerous an intimacy with the 
 nephew of a Sovereign they had chiefly contributed to overthrow, 
 and whose antecedents inspired both doubt and dislike. If in the 
 face of these considerations the Foreign Minister, Lord Palraerston, 
 endeavoured to cement a close alliance with the President of the 
 French Republic, it must be assigned either to his superior acumen 
 that foresaw all the immense advantages to flow from it, or to a 
 reckless disregard of the consequences that might ensue. This is 
 an important question for the fame of this great Statesman, as well 
 as for the truth of history, and it may be in my power to drop 
 some hints that may help to elucidate both. 
 
 In August, 1850, I encountered one day, in the street, a 
 person I had frequently met in the salons of Paris, the Hon. E. 
 Edwardes, acting Secretary of the British Embassy at Paris. He 
 expressed his satisfaction at my return from my recent trip 
 to the United States, and pressed me with some earnestness 
 to call at the Embassy to see him. Though much in the habit of 
 meeting him in the best society yet I had never cultivated 
 the acquaintance of Mr. Edwardes, for his manners were not con 
 ciliating, nor his conversation very attractive. He had the air of a 
 man deeply buried in rumination, and when he spoke it was with 
 the abruptness of a person suddenly recalled from the dream-land 
 he seemed to inhabit. His eyes, however, were sparkling and rest 
 less, which showed that his torpid exterior was only a diplomatic 
 cloak to hide his vigilant observation of men and things. He 
 was a man of some 40 years and upwards, and had passed his life 
 in 'diplomatic service at the different Courts of Europe. He was 
 at the moment filling the post of Secretary of Embassy, to which 
 he expected to be permanently named. 
 
 Receiving a second invitation to call on him, I did so, and
 
 78 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 we had a long chat on politics. Mr. E. was by no means 
 disposed to express his owii opinions, but rather sought in a subtle 
 manner to extract those of others. I perceived his craft, but gave 
 utterance to my sentiments without reserve, as I had no motive for 
 concealment. I spoke of the uncertainty that overhung the des 
 tinies of Prance, and that I could see no solution but in the pro 
 longation of the power of the President, who alone seemed 
 capable of dealing with the tremendous perils that were immi 
 nent. I talked of England and her foreign policy, saying that 
 it seemed to me that her best course was to consolidate as far 
 as she could the position of the President, and to enter into the 
 most cordial union with France, as the interests of both nations 
 demanded it. Referring to the United States, I asserted that 
 1 saw nothing to prevent the best understanding between them 
 and England and France, since they were all equally bound to each 
 other by mutual interest. These simple views were listened tc 
 with great attention by the lion. Secretary of Embassy, and I 
 inferred he approved of them, as he said nothing to the contrary. 
 
 We dined together soon, afterwards, when it came out that 
 he had read at the time my essay on the British Constitution, 
 and I deduced from what he let drop that I had hit the nail so 
 exactly on the head that no friend of the Oligarchy, much more an 
 official under it, would like to see the blow repeated. I began to 
 suspect forthwith that the astute Secretary had a motive in his 
 friendly demonstrations, and that he meant in one way or another 
 to allay my Yankee ardour to grapple with the mysteries of the 
 British Constitution. Whether in this he was the agent of 
 superior authority, or only seeking by a display of zeal and 
 activity to make his promotion surer, never occurred to me at the 
 time. One day, at the close of August, I announced to him my
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 79 
 
 intention to run over to London for a few days on private business, 
 when he asked me if I would like to make the acquaintance of the 
 Minister for Foreign Affairs, the Viscount Palmerston, for in that 
 case he would give me letters of introduction. It is needless to 
 say I accepted this flattering offer with extreme readiness, though 
 I marvelled at the time how it came to pass that a simple Secretary 
 of Embassy could venture to present a stranger to so illustrious a 
 personage as the Viscount Falmerston. This mystery, like many 
 others, unravelled itself in process of time, which, however, it may 
 not be necessary to explain. I arrived in London on the first of 
 September, and the day following called in Carlton Gardens and 
 left my introduction and card for the noble Secretary of State. 
 On returning to my hotel some hours later I found the card of 
 Lord Palmerston, with the following note : 
 
 Carlton Gardens, September 2nd, 1850. 
 
 Lord Palmerston presents his compliments to Mr. "Wikoff, and 
 regrets much that as he is leaving London this afternoon, he cannot 
 receive Mr. Wikoff here, but if Mr. Wikoff will do him the favour 
 to come down to Broadlands to-morrow to dine and sleep, and will 
 excuse the want of any company to meet him, Lord Palmerston will 
 have great pleasure in receiving him. 
 
 The one o'clock ov five o'clock trains from the Waterloo station 
 would bring Mr. Wikoff in good time to Romscy, which is within a 
 mile from Broadlands. 
 
 I was not more surprised than flattered at thh prompt acknow 
 ledgment of my visit, but it was chiefly owing, no doubt, to the 
 fact of his Lordship's leaving London that day for his country seat 
 after the adjournment of Parliament. I took the five o'clock train 
 next day for Romsey, which the time-tables informed me I would 
 resch soon after 7 o'clock. I had, therefore, abundant time to dwell
 
 80 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 on the good fortune awaiting me in making the acquaintance of one 
 of the leading Statesmen of Europe, and the most prominent man 
 at the time in England. My mind naturally reverted to his long 
 and singular political career. 
 
 Lord Palmerston entered Parliament in 1805 at 21 years of 
 age, and only four years later he obtained the post of Secretary of 
 War in the Ministry of Mr. ferceval. This office, to be sure, had 
 not the importance its name implies, for its duties were purely 
 administrative and secondary, yet it seems strange that so young 
 a man, who had attracted no attention during his brief Parlia 
 mentary career, should have been chosen for its occupant. This 
 was owing to the influence of the celebrated Canning, whom the 
 young Viscount had conciliated by his personal qualities and social 
 influence. It may be curious to quote a sketch of Lord Palmerston 
 at the epoch in question, wherein no prophetic eye could easily 
 discern the elements of a future Prime Minister : " At this time 
 Lord Palmerston was a lion par excellence, and was little known 
 save for the cut of his coat, the elegance of his horses, his prowess 
 in gallantry, his successes at Almack's, his skill in the waltz, which, 
 some say, he introduced into England, the painted freshness of his 
 complexion, and by that mixture of arrogance and fadeur, a de 
 meanour at once stiff and careless, which go to constitute what is 
 generally designated as an Exclusive." I will not vouch, of course, for 
 the fidelity of the portrait, but the fact that the sobriquet of " Cupid" 
 has up to late years been publicly attached to the name of Lord Pal 
 merston, is proof that his reputation of a Don Giovanni is not, at all 
 events, exaggerated. However subordinate the functions of Secre 
 tary of War, or however insignificant the means by which he first 
 acquired it, yet it is certain Lord Palmerston could not have re 
 tained it for the extraordinary period of 1 9 years, through five sue-
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMEIISTON. 81 
 
 cessive Ministeries,* without sterling merits of some kind. During 
 all this tumultuous period he made no figure in Parliament whatever, 
 which would make the retention of his place really mysterious, if it 
 was not known that Lord Palmerston was remarkable always for his 
 intelligence, activity, and strict attention to business. After the 
 fall of Fox, in 1806, the Whigs, or Liberal party, bid a long fare 
 well to power, and up to the hour of his quitting office, in 1828, 
 Lord Palmerston's Toryism was above suspicion. The triumph of 
 the Holy Alliance at Waterloo led to the vigorous suppression of 
 Liberalism all over Europe, and the Tories, under Lord Liver 
 pool, governed the country with extreme rigor. Popular princi 
 ples began to revive at length, and under Canning, in 1827, 
 Catholic Emancipation and Eeform were again discussed. The 
 Duke of Wellington took office a year later, and Toryism was 
 once more in the ascendant. Amid all these fluctuations of 
 opinion, Lord Palmerston remained stationary ; and whether 
 Whig or Tory swayed the Government, he was still seen carrying 
 his portfolio of Secretary of War under his arm. One could 
 almost suppose they had grown together. It may justly be 
 inferred from this that Lord Palrnerston thought more of office 
 than principle, and that he sacrificed his convictions to his 
 interest. Without meaning to slander his Lordship, it may be 
 said, that Lord Palmerston was never troubled with either con 
 victions or principles in politics. He entered political life too early 
 to form them, and his experience soon taught him the inutility of 
 entertaining them. He discovered, doubtless, that in the country 
 and age he lived, expediency was the true secret of Government, 
 
 * Mr. Perceval, Lord Liverpool, Mr. Canning, Lord Goderich, 
 Duke of Wellington.
 
 82 THE VISCOUNT PALKERSTON. 
 
 and that as maintaining the statu quo, and resisting the spirit of 
 the century, were alike impossible, it was plainly the role of an 
 English politician to concede what was exacted, and to refuse 
 what might be denied. This is the key-note to Lord Palmerston's 
 whole career. After the French Revolution of '30, he perceived 
 that Toryism in England was tottering to its fall, and to escape 
 being buried in its ruins, he followed Mr. Huskisson in his 
 retreat from the Wellington Ministry. Uncertain of the advent 
 of the Whigs, he did not go over to them at once ; but, along with 
 Mr. Huskisson, took up an independent position, which left him 
 the option to join any Government likely to maintain itself. For 
 the tir?t time during this interval, from '28 to '31, he turned his 
 attention to acquiring a Parliamentary reputation, and more par 
 ticularly directed his attention to foreign questions. He made 
 some speeches on the affairs of Portugal and Greece that attracted 
 attention. Both as to affairs at home and abroad his opinions 
 assumed a more decidedly liberal hue than ever before, though he 
 did not go the length of the leading Whigs in their propositions of 
 Reform. When, in '31, Earl Grey planted the Whig banner in 
 triumph on the heights of the Treasury Bench, followed by all his 
 brilliant cohort, Brougham, Stanley, Russell, Graham, Melbourne, 
 to the astonishment of all, and the dissatisfaction of many, he placed 
 the important charge of the foreign policy of the Government in the 
 hands of Lord Palmerston, whose reputation was far below those 
 I have cited, and that of many others. 
 
 For ten years the Whigs retained office, save for a brief interval 
 in '34, and for the entire period Lord Palmerslon managed the 
 foreign affairs of England. In this lofty position he displayed 
 abilities quite adequate to all the grave questions he was com 
 pelled to handle. He began by cultivating the French Alliance
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 83 
 
 with Louis Philippe. He next settled the famous Belgian diffi 
 culty by erecting a throne for Leopold. 13 e formed the Quadruple 
 Alliance, which gave the preponderance to England in Spain and 
 Portugal. He pushed on the conquests of England in India, and 
 forced open the ports of China, to the gain of the commercial 
 world. He finished by getting involved in a quarrel with France 
 in '40, and with the United States in '41, which likely contributed 
 to the fall of the Whig Ministry. He remained in Opposition, 
 attacking the Ministry of Sir Robert Peel at times with great 
 vigour, till '46, when he returned to his former post of Foreign 
 Minister, under Lord John Eussell. The Cabinet of Sir Robert 
 Peel left to their successors a misunderstanding with the French 
 Government as to the Spanish marriages, which still existed at 
 the time of ihe Se volution of '48. 
 
 As I have stated before, Lord Palmerston recognised the French 
 Republic at once, and studiously avoided further interference. 
 The revolutionary mania that overspread Europe in '48 and '49 
 afforded ample scope for the judgment and experience of the 
 Foreign Minister of England, and he had a nice course to steer 
 between the tottering Governments of the Continent and the 
 Revolutionary party, for a time so triumphant. It was expected 
 by the latter that the English Cabinet would aid them to con 
 solidate their power, whilst it was feared by the former that if it 
 refrained from doing so it would only be on the condition of a 
 Constitution being guaranteed to the insurgent States in question. 
 The Constitutional Governments of Belgium, Portugal, and Spain, 
 had been mainly set up by the influence of England in previous 
 years, and certainly the present seemed an auspicious moment to 
 Constitutionalize the whole of Europe. What Lord Palmerston 
 might have thought the interests of his country would suggest as 
 
 G
 
 84 THE VISCOUNT PALMEKSTON. 
 
 the best policy I do not know, but the Ministry, of which he was 
 only an unit, was not disposed to interfere ; consequently his role 
 was reduced to that of a vigilant and humane surveillance of 
 passing events. He was violently assailed by the reactionary 
 party on the Continent for his supposed sympathy with the 
 progressive cause, whilst he was bitterly railed at by the popular 
 leaders for belying their hopes. 
 
 A general outcry was raised against him both at home and 
 abroad, and the storm of discontent went on accumulating, till at 
 last it descended on his bead in the shape of a vote of censure in 
 the House of Lords, June, '50. Lord Palmerston was really 
 suspected by the Oligarchy of leaning to the revolutionary party 
 on the Continent, and it was thought necessary to eject him from 
 office. The pretext for this was sought in his energetic conduct 
 against the Greek Government, from whom he demanded redress 
 for injuries against a certain Don Pacifico, a naturalized British 
 subject. The truth simply was, that he was struggling against 
 the Kussian influence that controlled the petty kingdom of Greece, 
 and was overspreading the East. For this purpose he seized the 
 occasion of Don Pacifico's claims, and restored British influence 
 by a vigorous demonstration at the Court of Greece. To move 
 against Russia at that moment was considered by the Oligarchy as 
 revolutionary, and hence the vote of censure of June, '50. The 
 matter next came before the House of Commons, and it was 
 universally expected that Lord Palmerston would be compelled by 
 a similar vote of dissatisfaction to tender his resignation. The 
 Press was unanimous in i';s condemnation. The Times fired its 
 broadsides at him daily. Public opinion looked on him with 
 suspicion. His staunchest friends apologised in advance for the 
 votes they intended to cast against Mm. His fall was imminent,
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 85 
 
 when he rose on the 25th of June, '50, and made his memorable 
 defence. He passed in review his foreign policy from the time he 
 took office to the day he spoke ; and his exposition was so clear, 
 his justification so complete, and his innocence of all the charges 
 alleged so palpable, that he overwhelmed his opponents, and he 
 was sustained by a triumphant majority of the House of Commons, 
 which a few hours previously was prepared to ostracize him. This 
 speech is one of Lord Palmerston's grandest efforts, and is 
 eminently characteristic of the man. The matter was important 
 and graver enough, but it was conveyed with so much clearness, 
 and in a style so varied now dignified and serious, and anon 
 playful and sarcastic as to enchain the attention of his hearers 
 for a period of five hours, during which he traversed an ocean of 
 detail without referring to a note. For a masterly grasp of his 
 subject, for passages of real eloquence, for point and tact, for 
 humour tinged with irony above all, for a success that was 
 complete as unexpected this oration has rarely been surpassed in 
 the Parliamentary debates of England. This triumph silenced his 
 adversaries both within doors and without, and the adjournment 
 of Parliament in August left Lord Palmerston firm in his place of 
 Secretary of Foreign Affairs, and as strong in public esteem as a 
 few weeks before he had been the contrary. 
 
 It was no other than this remarkable man and veteran states 
 man, the victor in so many debates, and the hero of so many diplo 
 matic contests, that I was now flying over the South- Western 
 Railway to meet in compliance with the flattering invitation 
 already given. It was not long after 7 p.m. that I reached the 
 Romsey Station, and as it was a bright and balmy day, I decided to 
 walk over to "Broadlands," only a mile distant. I took my course 
 through the village of Romsey, having nothing to recommend it
 
 86 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTCOC. 
 
 but its extreme antiquity and only famous, in my recollection, as 
 the birth-place of Master Petty, the ancestor of the Lansdowne 
 family, who began life here as a humble weaver. I soon entered 
 the park gates of Lord Palmerston's noble estate, and followed the 
 carriage drive towards the house, stopping every now and then, 
 involuntarily, to survey that delicious landscape which nowhere 
 exists in such perfection as in England, and carried there to the 
 highest point of pictorial effect. The verdant meadow, trimmed 
 with such neatness as to give it the appearance of a carpet of 
 velvet, unrolled its glittering expanse on every side, with now and 
 then a clump of fine trees, picturesquely grouped, to break its 
 monotony. In the distance I discerned, a rare beauty, the flushing 
 surface of a gentle river, sparkling in the sunshine, which disap 
 pearing for a moment behind an envious grove again carne 
 smiling into sight, as it pursued its meandering course through the 
 soft vale it seemed to nourish. All my political reminiscences van 
 ished instantaneously at the sight of such transcendent charms 
 as these, and I was fast falling into a reverie and beginning to 
 quote Thomson, when a sudden turn of the road brought me right 
 upon the superb mansion of " Brcadlands." 
 
 I learnt from the footman who opened the door that Lord Pal- 
 merston was out riding, his usual exercise of an afternoon, but 
 that his Lordship expressed the hope I would be able to amuse 
 myself about the grounds till his return. I was escorted to my 
 bedroom, and informed that the dinner hour was half-past eight 
 o'clock. As I had nearly an hour to spare, I descended for a walk 
 on the lawn, which ran sloping from the house to the edge of the 
 pretty stream already alluded to ; and anxious to improve my ac 
 quaintance \v'th it, I strolled along its winding margin, which at 
 every turn allbrded some new and pleasing view.
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALME RSTON. 87 
 
 On my return to the house I found its noble owner waiting for 
 me in the library, and he welcomed me with all the easy familiarity 
 of a finished man of the world. My preconceived notions of his 
 appearance and manners were ludicrously disappointed. Instead 
 of the venerable man of imposing mien and solemn gravity the 
 conjoint result of high distinction, English formality, and advanced 
 age. I encountered a very pleasant gentleman of some fifty years, 
 apparently, perfectly off-hand and unaffected in his demeanour, and 
 singularly vivacious and playful in his remarks, which were accom 
 panied with a sort of running chuckle. After a few moments' 
 conversation, his Lordship suggesting we had but a few minutes to 
 dress for dinner, rang for a servant to conduct me to my room, 
 whilst he hurried off, saying, he would see me directly in the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 On repairing thither, I was presented by his Lordship to the 
 celebrated Lady Palmerston, formerly Countes Cowper, and 
 once the belle of her epoch. She was a tall, finely-formed woman, 
 with a handsome countenance, very elegant manners, and, ap 
 parently, still in the prime of life. There was the same polished 
 ease and freedom from restraint of any kind that distinguished her 
 noble husband, and which indicated in both that to high breeding 
 was added the long habit of wide and constant intercourse with 
 society. There was only one other lady present, the Hon. Mrs. 
 
 W. C -, a member of the family. When dinner was announced 
 
 Lady P rose, and with a charming mixture of affability and 
 
 hauteur offered me her arm, saying, she " would take the stranger 
 into dinner," an honor I certainly would not have ventured to 
 aspire to. The dinner passed off delightfully ; my Lord Palmer 
 ston talking, joking, and laughing, as though he passed his time 
 doing nothing else, He related several anecdotes, full of point
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERS10N. 
 
 and admirably told. I could not for the life of me imagine I was 
 in the presence of one of the leading men of Europe, who had 
 been a member of the Cabinets that had ended the terrible war 
 against Napoleon 1., and began that against the United States, in 
 1812, and that at this moment had more to do with the destinies 
 of nations than any other man living. 
 
 I was not long in detecting, however, that the lively, facetious 
 exterior of Lord Palmerston was but a mask assumed before the 
 world, though always worn with dignity, and that underneath lay 
 concealed that vast intellect, fearless character, and mighty energy, 
 which had raised him, without connection, interest, or wealth, and 
 in the teeth of prejudice, to the position he then held, and which 
 would likely carry him later into the Premiership of England. 
 
 On returning to the drawing-room, the Minister left me with 
 the ladies, saying, he would join us at tea; and 1 learnt afterwards 
 that he was in the habit of retiring to his cabinet for an hour or 
 more after dinner to glance over his despatches, flowing in upon 
 him every day from all quarters of the world. He came in again 
 about eleven o'clock, drank a cup of tea, chatted awhile in his 
 pleasant way, and disappeared once more. He had returned, I 
 found, to his study, where I was surprised to hear he frequently 
 passed part of the night at work. I have since discovered that 
 Lord Palmerston's capacity for labour is prodigious, and his 
 energies, mental and bodily, never flag under any pressure of busi 
 ness. His intelligence, experience, and activity enable him to 
 accomplish everything without appearance of haste or loss of time. 
 Whether it be that his task is congenial, or that his nature demands 
 constant occupation, certain it is that Lord Palmerston labours as 
 incessantly as any operative or farmer's man in England. He re 
 quires no recreation, is never see" at places of amusement, and is
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON T . 89 
 
 free from all those fashionable vices so common amongst States 
 men and Diplomatists of all countries. In short, Lord Palmerston 
 is one of those rare men who seem born to carry on the political 
 business of the world ; and it is hard to say whether this arises 
 from any special combination of faculties, or from that soaring 
 ambition to govern mankind, that makes labour, trial, and peril 
 easy, nay, attractive, if contributing to that end. 
 
 At ten next morning the family were punctually assembled at 
 breakfast, but I found his Lordship more reserved in manner and 
 less inclined for conversation, as though his mind was already 
 intent on the business of the day. After breakfast every one, 
 according to the custom in English country houses, betook them 
 selves to their own mode of amusement, but in bidding me good 
 morning his Lordship asked me to accompany him in his usual 
 ride at four in the afternoon. 
 
 I accompanied the ladies in a short ramble over the grounds, 
 laid out with exquisite taste, in both the French and English 
 style ; gay parterres of flowers, massed together in the greatest 
 variety and profusion, relieved by sloping lawns and graceful 
 groups of trees. I had fine views of the house from various points, 
 which is an oblong in shape, with wings, and constructed with a 
 nice perception of architectural effect. It is of great dimensions, 
 containing on the lower floor alone three spacious drawing rooms, 
 library, billiard-room, and a dining-room worthy of a palace. On 
 returning from our stroll I was left to dispose of my own time 
 selon men gout, and I passed an hour or so pleasantly in looking 
 over a very -choice collection of pictures that adorned the various 
 roomis, amongst which I remarked several rare specimens of Cuyp 
 and Teniers, great favourites of mine. I next wended my way
 
 90 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 into the library, and what with reading and letter-writing, the 
 hours sped away pleasantly enough. 
 
 At four I proceeded to join his Lordship for our ride, and I 
 found him ready at the hour named. As we were about to mount 
 he said 
 
 " I will give you a turn in the New Forest." Having re 
 marked nothing of the kind in the neighbourhood I asked, with 
 some distrust, what the distance might be ? 
 
 " Only ten miles," returned bis Lordship, pulling on his gloves. 
 
 Ten miles there, ditto back, thought I, in a sober spirit of 
 computation, besides the turn proposed. I felt I had better come 
 out with a plain statement, whilst there was time. 
 
 " If your Lordship is serious," I said, " I shall beg the favour 
 of carrying a pillow along with me, for I am sure to spend the 
 night in the Forest." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the noble Lord, " will a gallop like that 
 fatigue you ?" 
 
 " I have not strode a horse for these several years past," I ex 
 postulated. 
 
 " In that case," returned his Lordship, " let us take a walk 
 over the farms," to which I readily assented, and the more so, 
 that the playfulness of the " thorough-bred" intended for me in 
 spired me with secret misgivings that we should soon part com 
 pany in mutual disgust. To say nothing of fatigue and insecurity 
 I greatly preferred a promenade a pied, since it would afford me a 
 better opportunity for conversation with his Lordship, which I 
 ardently desired. OiF we started at a rattling pace, which soon 
 made me suspect I had gained little by the exchange. I was 
 really astonished at the extraordinary bodily vigour of my noble
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 91 
 
 host, which far exceeded mine, though some thirty years his junior, 
 and in sound health. 
 
 A group of several fine farms surround the country seat oi 
 Lord Palmerston, constituting the estate of Broadlands, and I 
 found them all in high cultivation. The land was too good to 
 require, fortunately, any of those expensive processes of draining, 
 irrigation, and manuring, which has made a science of agriculture 
 in England now-a-days ; but his Lordship, confiding in the univer 
 sality of his genius, thought he could manage his farms as easily 
 as the various States of Europe, and once, in a bucolic mood, 
 undertook it, but he soon found to his cost, as I have learnt, that 
 every business has its mysteries, and that even a great statesman 
 may be taught by country-bumpkins. We stopped a moment to 
 inspect some fine foals, for I discovered that Lord Palmerston 
 shared, in common with his countrymen, that truly national pre 
 dilection for horse-flesh. At last, emerging into some fine broad 
 meadow-land, the conversation turned to my delight on politics, 
 and his Lordship, without any appearance of reserve, discussed 
 the condition of Europe with his usual clearness and adroitness. 
 
 He expressed for France the most friendly sentiments, and de 
 precated the folly of two nations, with so many mutual interests, 
 ever resorting to unnecessary hostilities; still, I remarked, in 
 passing over late events, he refrained from giving his opinions fully 
 either of men or things. He touched on Italy, and lamented the 
 sad state of things existing there, which he thought it easy enough 
 to improve, if the parties concerned were either willing or knew 
 how to set to work. He said nothing very distinct of Germany, 
 but seemed to think that Austria had made a narrow escape in her 
 late conflict with Hungary, though he refrained from expressing 
 any sympathy with either party. He talked of Kussia at more
 
 92 THE VISCOUNT PALMEBSTON. 
 
 length, and without seeking to underrate the spirit of her people 
 or the vigor of her Sovereign, he showed no apprehension of her 
 vaunted military power and resources. In short, he expressed 
 himself like a man not afraid to cope with her if circumstances 
 made it necessary, and I inferred his opinion was that things were 
 tending in that direction. 
 
 He spoke very freely of the United States, and in the kindest 
 spirit. The two nations, his own and mine, he said, were essential 
 to each other, and though occasional jars might arise from diplomatic 
 misunderstandings, still any fatal disagreement he considered out of 
 the question. I made no efforts to ascertain more than his Lord 
 ship chose to declare, though I was curious enough to know what 
 were his real notions of policy toward the United States ; whether 
 he feared the extension of our territory, and secretly aimed to 
 prevent it. I alluded naturally to Central America, and the 
 squabble then going on between the rival functionaries in that 
 quarter of England and the States, Messrs. Chatfield and Squiers, 
 whose peppery correspondence was creeping into the journals. 
 
 " Yes," said his Lordship, " my agent there is displaying too 
 much zeal, and I must recall him." 
 
 He refrained from saying what special business he was sent 
 there on, and I thought it would be presumptuous to urge the 
 question further. 
 
 By this time we had reached a kind of Observatory on the 
 grounds, which, on ascending, afforded a commanding view of the 
 lovely landscape around. On returning to terra firma, we found 
 a large congregation of peasants, of both sexes, just in from the 
 harvest, and who had spied the Lord of the Manor across the field. 
 
 " Long live yer Lordship," cried the boldest cf the throng, 
 and uproarious cheers followed this mannsrly exclamation.
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 93 
 
 " "Well, who's the treasurer amongst you," inquired his Lord 
 ship. A hat was instantly held up, when their generous landlord, 
 throwing in a handsome douceur, passed rapidly on his way t 
 leaving a roaring sea of enthusiasm behind. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast I announced my intention of 
 leaving that afternoon for town, when her Ladyship was kind 
 enough to express regret at my early departure. His Lordship 
 walked with me from the breakfast-room into the library, when he 
 remarked, 
 
 " In our conversation yesterday your views seemed to coincide 
 singularly with mine, more especially as regards France and the 
 United States ; and if you have nothing better to do, what do you 
 say to aiding me to keep the peace, for I hear that you are a good 
 deal connected with the Press in both countries." 
 
 I was as much surprised as nattered at this frank and sudden 
 proposition, which, however, embarrassed me not a little. 
 
 " If I thought I could, in my humble way, be of any use to 
 your Lordship," I replied, " and especially to the great cause in 
 question, I certainly should " I stopped to reflect a moment. 
 
 " Well, think it over," said his Lordship; remarking my hesi 
 tation, " and let me know. As to compensation, I'll make that 
 easy." With that the noble Secretary of State retired to his 
 cabinet. I was struck with the business-like way he did things, 
 and that he wanted no work he was not willing to pay for. 
 
 I had, certes, abundant matter for rumination, but after 
 tuning it over in my mind, I was no nearer to a conclusion than 
 before. What puzzled me then and long afterwards was to know 
 what I really could do to make myself at all useful to the Foreign 
 Office of England. To be sure I had relations with the French 
 Press and all the heads of French parties. I was widely connected
 
 94 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 with the Press and public men of my own country. Yet I was 
 slow to perceive to what account I could turn these advantages, 
 unless I knew exactly what were the wishes and secret purposes of 
 the astute Statesman at the head of the Foreign Office. These I 
 knew nothing about, and, therefore, pondered over the expediency 
 of accepting functions that might be repugnant to my views, or 
 which I might be unable to discharge. My vanity was, certainly, 
 inflated not a trifle at such a personage as Lord Palmerston con 
 descending to enlist my services, but I could not help thinking 
 that he was misled into greatly overrating them. In any case, I 
 decided not to accept his Lordship's offer till I had revolved it 
 further. 
 
 Whilst at lunch that day, my gracious hostess proposed a short 
 drive to the old church of Eomsey, which was one of the curiosities 
 of the neighbourhood, and that I had ample time, her Ladyship 
 assured me, to see before starting. Nothing could be more in 
 teresting than its quaint antiquity, as I found on inspection, and I 
 surveyed it with that peculiar relish which an American only can 
 feel at sight of objects hallowed by the associations of another age, 
 and stamped by the corroding footprints of time. So habituated 
 are we to what is new and fresh in the handiworks of man so accus 
 tomed to associate with what is old ideas of meanness and inferiority, 
 emanating from sight of the rude and clumsy structures of our colo 
 nial state some ninety years agone, that when on coming to Europe 
 we contemplate, for the first time, " the solemn temples, the gorgeous 
 palaces, and cloud-capt towers," encrusted with the rust of cen 
 turies, and alive with the memories of great men and startling 
 deeds, denoting the wealth, taste, and civilization of times long 
 anterior to the discovery of our Continent, we experience a rush of 
 emotion as novel as overpowering, and which, lor a time, breaks
 
 THE VISCOUNT PALME11STON. 95 
 
 up and confounds our settled preconceptions and deep-rooted 
 illusions. 
 
 The splendid piles of continental architecture awaken wonder 
 and admiration; but far other chords are touched by the ivy- 
 crowned and unpretending village church of England, such as the 
 one I am speaking of, where the simple slab, inscribed with the 
 familiar Saxon name, brings vividly home to an American the 
 touching fact that the country of his birth is but an off-shoot of 
 the parent-stock around him, and his prejudices melt, and his sen 
 sations change as he recognizes that so far from the new and 
 original creation he fancied himself, he is none other than the 
 recent descendant of some English pilgrim. The impressions of 
 an American on visiting Europe vary naturally with the tempera 
 ment and character of the individual ; but the coarsest mind cannot 
 fail to undergo strange modifications, whilst the reflecting and sen 
 sitive must vibrate to its innermost depths. It is natural that 
 England should appeal the strongest to American thoughts and 
 feelings; but language, literature, and descent apart, there is a 
 picturesque beauty in its landscape, a neatness and comfort in its 
 homely, but decent villages, a real grandeur in its castles and 
 lordly mansions, with a teeming richness in the broad lauds that 
 surround them, that inspire the unimpassioned with earnest admi 
 ration, whilst they waft a poetical nature into the regions of 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 I remarked, amongst other objects of interest, in the Church 
 of Romsey, a plain marble tablet to the memory of the father of 
 Lord Palmerston, whereon his virtues were feelingly recorded in 
 choice Latin by his dutiful son. 
 
 In bidding adieu to my noble host, I informed him that I would 
 do myself the honor of writing in two or three days my reply to
 
 96 THE VISCOUNT PALMERSTON. 
 
 his flattering proposition. As I had spoken of visiting Berlin 
 before returning to Paris, Lord Pahnerston was so kind as to give 
 me a letter to the British Charge d' Affaires at that place, which I 
 accepted with a profusion of thanks.
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 9*3 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 On my return to London I renewed my deliberations on the 
 novel and seducing prospect of entering into connection with the 
 British Foreign Office. I had at the time another scheme in my 
 head, which had temptations of its own, and promised ample re 
 muneration for the time and attention bestowed on it. Still 
 political occupation was more to my taste, and the chance of 
 playing a part, however humble, in the affairs of the three leading 
 nations of the world, England, France, and the United States, 
 was a consideration that appealed not so much to my vanity or 
 ' ambition, but I hope to less selfish feelings, and which, finally, 
 overcame all doubts and scruples. If I had thought for a single 
 moment that the covert object in view was to entice me into re 
 nouncing that allegiance to my native country and her interests, 
 which every right mind and sound heart must cherish as one of 
 the most sacred duties and noblest of sentiments, I should have 
 shrunk from the offer as an insult and a disgrace ; or had I sup 
 posed that my services would be required for executing the de 
 signs and promoting the aggrandisement of England to her 
 exclusive profit, if not to the detriment of her rivals, I would 
 equally have declined the task proposed. Believing, however, 
 that the profound statesman and practical politician at the head of 
 Her Majesty's foreign policy, saw distinctly that the period had 
 arrived not only in the career of England, but the world's history, 
 when the advantage of one nation could not be secured at the
 
 98 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 sacrifice of the rest, but that nations, like individuals, were 
 mutually dependent, and that Providence had clearly designed the 
 fraternity of mankind by giving to each separate facilities for 
 supplying the wants of all ; convinced that Lord Palmerston had 
 the intelligence to perceive this great fundamental truth, the 
 energy to maintain it, and the capacity to apply it ; satisfied that 
 his purpose was to foster sentiments of esteem between the three 
 great nations in the van of civilisation to subdue their en 
 mities to abate their prejudices to increase their friendly rela 
 tions, with a view to enhancing the material prosperity of all, 
 leaving each to decide for itself all domestic questions of politics 
 and morals ; forming such conclusions as these, I saw nothing in 
 the offer to become a satellite of the English Foreign Office, that 
 was not honourable and in the highest degree attractive. I aban 
 doned, therefore, all previous projects, gave up my visit 10 
 Berlin, wrote to the noble Viscount that I was ready to enter into 
 the arrangement suggested, and went off to Paris to put myself in 
 connection with the Hon. Mr. Edwardes, as indicated by his Lord 
 ship in case my decision was in the affirmative. 
 
 I was anxious to know what functions would be assigned to me, 
 and I was a good deal more puzzled to divine what I was fit for in 
 the way of diplomatic service. I had no experience of the kind up 
 to this time. My life had been of a desultory and somewhat vagrant 
 description. After scrambling through the University, running 
 through a course of law, I had given the most of my time to 
 travelling, interspersed with episodes rather more eccentric than 
 profitable. To be sure, I had always taken a deep interest in 
 politics in the largest sense. The government of mankind had 
 ever seemed to me the most mysterious and complicated of 
 problems, and in traveiciiig the nations of Europe and Asia, I was
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 99 
 
 not so absorbed by their amusements as to neglect casting a keen 
 and sympathetic glance at the different conditions of men as 
 shaped and modified by the institutions of different ages. The 
 essays I had thrown off so hastily for a French journal conveyed, 
 in part, the results of my observations and reflection. Still, I had 
 never been trained to any administrative work, or employed on 
 any political mission of any kind. The idea, therefore, of putting 
 on diplomatic harness receiving secret instructions of being em 
 ployed on occult jobs, or engaged in mystifying to unravel mystery, 
 and this, too, for a foreign country, usually regarded as a foe to my 
 own ; all this, there was no denying, had the charm of tremendous 
 novelty, but it had a drawback in my utter inexperience to thread 
 these winding labyrinths. I had a shrewd suspicion that either my 
 Lord Palmerston or the Hon. Mr. Edwardes had given me more 
 credit for address, for knowledge of the intricate ways and sub 
 terranean avenues of diplomacy, than I possessed, and I anti 
 cipated, therefore, not a little amusement at the ludicrous 
 mystification that was sure to ensue. As my diplomacy must be 
 improvised for want of experience, I felt certain that I should, in 
 sea phrase, be cutting across their bows in the most comical 
 fashion just at the moment probably they thought me astern. 
 There is nothing more exciting than a practical joke when the 
 responsibility is not upon yourself, and the oddity of my being 
 called upon to play the role of Sir Patrick O'Plenipo in real life 
 enlivened my imagination, and sharpened my faculties for all the 
 strange adventures that might befall me. There was only one 
 thing firmly settled in my mind, and that was not to be entrapped 
 into doing anything discreditable to myself or disloyal to the cause 
 I undertook to serve. For all the rest I was indifferent. 
 
 My amiable friend and sponsor, the Hon. Mr. Edwardes, at Paris,
 
 100 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 to whom I reported myself on my arrival, was just one of those 
 diplomatic mysteries that was sure to lead me astray. He had 
 the air of a man with his safety-valves screwed down, so to speak, 
 full of the most important secrets ready to burst out and scatter 
 confusion, if his power of suppression did not keep them under. 
 This was no affectation of manner, but the effect of usage. I 
 expected my cautious Mentor to take off the mask before his 
 Telemachus, and to initiate me into all the arcana I had a right to 
 know before I could hope to make myself useful but not a bit of 
 it. Whether he thought me accomplished in all the rouerie* of his 
 craft, or wanted confidence in me, or that he really had nothing to 
 confide, quite likely, I know not; but instead of information to 
 guide me, all I got were perplexing hints that led me into out- of- 
 the-way conclusions, and which, without a miracle interposed, 
 would some day carry one or both of us down into some bottom 
 less quagmire of discomfiture. This quiet game of bo-peep was 
 one day interrupted by my diplomatic friend asking me "to write 
 something." This was a startling request. 
 " About what?" I demanded. 
 
 " What you please," he replied. " I want to see your style." 
 This suggestion was not at all to my taste, and somewhat 
 offensive to my pride. It was treating me very like a schoolboy 
 who is requested to do some ciphering to show his proficiency. I 
 interpreted the real purpose of the Hon. Mr. Edwardes as only to 
 get at my opinions, which I should have been too happy to express, 
 viva voce, if he had stated the subject. To write something about 
 nothing is not a very inviting task ; but it struck me that, perhaps, 
 I might sail round my wily ally by writing some slipshod matter 
 that would force him into criticism. I do not know whether he 
 penetrated my design, but nothing could be more amusing than his
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 101 
 
 surprise, which soon changed into round alrase, of what I had 
 done. He expressed himself with a hearty bluntness that pro 
 voked my mirth. 
 
 "That's downright trash," he exclaimed, looking over my 
 manuscript. 
 
 " You don't mean it?" I said, affecting astonishment. 
 
 " What in the world did you write this stuff for ?" he continued. 
 
 " Only to oblige you." 
 
 " That won't do." And he put my MSS. into the fire. 
 
 " What's to be done now ?" I queried, laughing outright. 
 
 " You must write something I can send over to Broadlands," 
 was his rejoinder. 
 
 " Indeed !" I said, growing serious ; u that's another affair. 
 But what topic this time ?" 
 
 " You must select your own." 
 
 " Suppose I take the present condition of France," I suggested, 
 with a knowing look. 
 
 " That will do," he replied, with a smile. 
 
 I saw I must make an effort on which my fortunes depended. I 
 didn't like the job at all, but there was no help for it, and so I set 
 to work. I began a pamphlet with a French title, la France, qua 
 veut elle, ("What does France wish 1 ), and then proceeded to solve 
 the enigma after my own fashion. In discussing the condition of 
 France, I naturally commented on the state of Europe generally, 
 and added some side-views of Lord Palmerston's policy, which I 
 earnestly applauded. An episode on the growing power of the 
 middle class I took some pains with. After writing a portion of 
 the above, I sent it into my literary taster, and he expressed 
 himself with the same pithiness as before, but in a more compli 
 mentary tone.
 
 102 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 " Admirable !" he asserted, " nothing could be better." 
 
 " Shall I finish it?" I enquired. 
 
 " By all means, it's just the thing." 
 
 When my task was done, I waited patiently for the next move, 
 for my probation had slackened my ardor somewhat. In a short time 
 after this I received an intimation from the Hon. Mr. Edwardes 
 that I had better make a second visit to Broadlands, and report 
 myself to Lord Palmerstou, who would give me the requisite 
 instructions as to my work. He desired me to carry my MSS. 
 along with me to lay before his Lordship, as he had only conveyed 
 to him his opinion of it. Inferring, of course, that he had authority 
 for such advice, I left Paris in a day or two for Southampton, only 
 seven miles from Broadlands, whence I wrote to its noble owner 
 that I had come again to England at the suggestion of Mr. Edwardes, 
 and would be flattered by an interview with his Lordship at such 
 time and place as would suit his convenience. I thought it likely 
 he would name a day to see me in London. I despatched my note 
 by a messenger, and the same afternoon received the following 
 answer :- 
 
 Broadlands, 16th October, 1856. 
 MY DEAE SIR 
 
 I am still here, and shall remain here for ten days longer, 
 therefore, if you wish to see me, you must do me the favour to come 
 here. Can you do so this afternoon ? We dine at the same hour 
 as when you were here, and you will find your room ready. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 HENRY WIKOFF, Esq. PALMERSTON. 
 
 I was not a little gratified at the cordial tone of this invitation,
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 103 
 
 which showed that I had not lost ground in his Lordship's good 
 opinion. I drove over to Broadlands before dinner, and was re 
 ceived with even greater kindness than before. I found several 
 distinguished persons enjoying the hospitality of the Foreign 
 Minister, and amongst them some members of the Diplomatic 
 Corps. The morning after my arrival I handed my brochure to his 
 Lordship, who feared he would not have time to peruse it", 
 but desired me to come to his cabinet during the afternoon, 
 and talk over matters. It was clear that Lord Palmerston 
 was entirely satisfied with the information conveyed to him by 
 Mr. Edwardes of the soundness of my views. I waited upon his 
 Lordship before dinner, whom I found hard at work at a high desk, 
 in a spacious room, surrounded by bookcases. He bid me be 
 seated, and, saying that he had not had a moment during the day 
 to glance at my lucubrations, begged me to give him a brief 
 analysis of what I had written. I did so, when he simply re 
 marked that I had gone over a wide ground, and that he was sure 
 I had done justice to it. Though pleasant in his manner, his 
 Lordship seemed indisposed to talk politics. I touched delicately 
 on French affairs, to which he responded briefly. Without pre 
 meditation, I asked him what he thought of Louis Napoleon's 
 chances. This was coming too close, I could see, for the noble 
 Secretary turned abruptly round on his chair, got up, put his back 
 to the fire, and then said, with great caution, " Well, he has made 
 no mistake yet." This was explicit enough for a Minister of 
 State. It was apparent that Lord Palmerston thought favourably 
 of the future of the French Prince President from his unqualified 
 encomium of his past. To say the President had made no mis 
 takes amid the trying difficulties he had contended with, was to 
 award high praise to his statesmanship.
 
 104 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 I then declared to Lord Palmerston my readiness to enter into the 
 arrangement he had proposed, when, expressing his satisfaction, 
 he desired me, on going up to London, to call on Mr. H. U. Ad- 
 dington, Under Secretary of State, at the Foreign Office, his alter 
 ego, as his Lordship styled him, and that he would shape my 
 matters to my liking. 
 
 I left Broadlands the following day for London, where, upon my 
 arrival, I called at the Foreign Office, in Downing Street. I was 
 shewn by the messenger on service into an ante-room, a large 
 dingy apartment, where, after giving my card, I was desired to 
 wait till Mr. Addington was disengaged. After a brief detention, 
 I was conducted into the private room of the Under Secretary of 
 State. He was a man of some fifty years and upwards, very erect in 
 stature, with a cold and formal manner, and a severe expression of 
 face. He desired me to be seated, and proceeded at once tc 
 business. 
 
 " Lord Palmerston informs me," he said, " that you are to be 
 employed in the Foreign Office." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," I returned, with an affable smile, which was quite 
 ihrown away. 
 
 " What do you expect in the way of salary ? " 
 
 " Why, really," I said, hesitating, " I have not thought of the 
 matter." 
 
 " I have instructions to arrange it," continued the Under Se 
 cretary ; " will you say what sum will do ? " 
 
 I saw that ceremony was wasted on this model of an adminis 
 trator, so, after reflecting a moment, I replied, " Four or five 
 hundred will do to begin with." 
 
 " Very well. Your salary will be five hundred pounds a-year, 
 paid quarterly, to begin from the first of this month."
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOUEIGX OFFICE. 105 
 
 As my utility was quite uncertain, I thought this compensation 
 very liberal, and was going to say so, but a glance at the impas 
 sive countenance of the Under Secretary checked me. His busi 
 ness was simply to carry out the instructions of the Minister, a 
 mere matter of routine, in which he had neither interest nor res 
 ponsibility. Finding that Mr. Addington was standing quietly 
 with his back to the fire, wholly absorbed, apparently, with holding 
 up his coat tails, I rose, and inquired if he had any instructions to 
 give me ? 
 
 " No, I have not." 
 
 " Shall I call, then, another day ? " 
 
 " Where is your address ? " 
 
 " London Hotel, Alberaarle Street." 
 
 " I will write to you when I am instructed.** 
 
 By this time I was congealed down to the frigid level of Mr. 
 Addington's manner, and so bowing with the utmost gravity, I 
 retired without uttering another word. The sunshine out of doors 
 soon restored me, and as I strolled homeward across St. James's 
 Park, I found myself in a rather buoyant state of mind. Five 
 hundred a-year suddenly added to the income of a single man, is 
 not at all calculated to excite disagreeable emotions, and I really 
 wondered how the Under Secretary could display such extraordinary 
 apathy in doing so pleasant a thing by anybody. But that was 
 not all. There was the dignity of my new calling. To find one's 
 self abruptly translated into the upper air of official life, with no 
 more effort than in stepping in and out of the ascending machine 
 at the Colosseum ; to feel yourself no longer one of the common 
 herd, who have never had to do with affairs of state ; to imagine 
 that in the great diplomatic machine which is at work all the world 
 over, you are henceforth to figure as a screw of more or less im-
 
 106 A VISIT TO THE FOEEIGN OFFICE. 
 
 portance, with the reserved power always of disturbing its move 
 ments if you can't aid them ; to know, in short, that you are 
 actually enrolled on the staff of the British Foreign Office, with 
 Lord Palmerston at its head, and 500 a-year to back you, without 
 being able to comprehend by what magic you ever got there ; if all 
 this was not enough to make your blood tingle and your head quite 
 giddy on a fine bracing day in October, I would like to know what 
 would. It is easy to imagine that, in this elastic frame of feeling > 
 and with so pleasant a prospective before me, I awaited, in perfect 
 beatitude, the solemn summons of the Under Secretary to return 
 from whence I came, and receive the mission I was destined for. To 
 me, by this time, it was a matter of extreme indifference how I was 
 disposed of, for, as the Roman boasted that " Every road led to 
 Rome," I might with equal confidence feel that every employment 
 led to honor. In the course of a few days I received the following 
 note i- 
 Mr. Addington presents his compliments to Mr. "Wikoff, 
 and, by desire of Lord Palmerston, requests that Mr. Wikoff will 
 call on Mr. Addington at the Foreign Office this day, between 2 and 
 4 o'clock p.m. 
 
 Foreign Office, 22nd October, 1850. 
 
 I complied punctually with this invitation, and was received in 
 the same matter-of-fact way as before. 
 
 " I sent for you," said Mr. Addington, raising his head from his 
 stand-up desk and dropping his eye-glass, " simply to inform you 
 that it is not quite decided where to employ you ; that is now under 
 consideration."
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 107 
 
 " Very well, Sir," I returned in my blandest tone, and with a 
 smile meant to be irresistible^ " I am at your disposition." 
 
 " When that point is settled," continued the Under Secretary, 
 just as grim as ever, " I will send for you again." 
 
 "Anything further?" I asked, after a brief pause. 
 
 " Nothing for the present." 
 
 A mutual salutation ended my second visit to the Foreign Of 
 fice. Without doubting for a moment the Under Secretary's admi 
 rable adaptation to his office, I inwardly prayed, whilst there was 
 yet time, that I might not fall under his chilly supervision. I feel 
 an involuntary reverence for one of your phlegmatic men, free from 
 the aberrations of passion, whose judgment must be sounder and 
 their conduct more regular than that of weaker people, but so little is 
 my nature in harmony with these, that I shrink up like a sensitive 
 leaf when I come in contact. To my surprise, only two days later, 
 came a second appel from the Foreign Office to this effect 
 
 Mr. Addington requests that Mr. Wikoff will have the goodness 
 to call on him at this office either to-day or to-morrow after 2 o'clock, 
 p.m. 
 
 Foreign Office, 24th October, '50. 
 
 Brief as it was I recognised something less repelling in this 
 note than in the first, and I began to hope that Mr. Addington 
 would gradually relent when he had once overcome that invincible 
 repugnance to strangers, characteristic of an insular people, but 
 carried to the verge of impoliteness by an English aristocrat. I 
 called promptly at 2 o'clock p.m. of the day I received the above 
 note, and was admitted to Mr. Addingtori's sanctum a moment 
 after sending .in my card. I had augured correctly, for tho' Mr.
 
 108 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 
 
 Addington's countenance underwent no relaxation, at least nothing 
 approaching to the frivolity of a smile, yet its sternness had sub 
 sided. His manner, too, tho' not positively pleasant, had far less 
 of the odi profanum vulgus in it. I began to cherish the fancy 
 that I should yet creep through the crevices of his official armor. 
 Putting his back to the fire, his favorite attitude, he said 
 
 " Well, it is decided you are to go to Paris." 
 
 " I am very glad of it," escaped me involuntarily. 
 
 " It is thought you ma> be more useful there." 
 
 " I hope so," was my answer, tho' secretly considering if such 
 was likely to be the case. 
 
 " I think," continued Mr. Addington, " that you will be put in 
 connection with my colleague, Lord Stanley of Alderley, whose 
 functions are more political than mine."* 
 
 I was near expressing my satisfaction at this without reflecting, 
 but checking myself I simply said 
 
 " Very well, Sir." 
 
 *' When are you ready to leave for Paris ?" 
 
 "To-day, if necessary." 
 
 " Suit your convenience," said the Under Secretary rather blandly, 
 " and on your arrival report yourself to the Marquis of Normanby, 
 to whom I will give you a letter." 
 
 " As you please, Sir," I replied, " but if it will save you any 
 trouble, Mr. Edwardes can introduce me in my new capacity, for 
 I know his Lordship already." 
 
 Little did I dream at the time of all the trouble this unlucky sug 
 gestion would cost me. The Under Secretary reflected a moment 
 
 There are two Under Secretaries of State connected with the British Foreign Office, 
 the one permanent, whose duties are chiefly administrative, and the other appointed by 
 the Foreign Minister oi the day, and who retires with him irom office.
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGN OFFICE. 109 
 
 " Very well," he remarked, " let Mr. Edwardes introduce you. 
 The less written the better." The caution of the experienced offi 
 cial revealed itself in this shrewd phrase. 
 
 " Have you any instructions to give me ?" I enquired. 
 
 " Your instructions as to France," returned the Under Secretary, 
 "you will receive from the Embassy at Paris, but our policy to 
 wards the United States will be explained to you shortly, either by 
 Lord Palraerston himself, or through another channel, as he 
 may direct." 
 
 I bowed my acquiescence. 
 
 " As there is nothing to detain me longer in London, I shall be 
 off at once to Paris," I remarked. 
 
 " It would be just as well," replied Mr. Addington, moving 
 towards his desk, " and I wish you a pleasant trip over." 
 
 Making my profound acknowledgments for this unexpected act 
 of courtesy, I took my conge, and retired. 
 
 It may have been only a methodical mode of proceeding, but it 
 struck me there was exceeding caution in the way the Foreign 
 Office was dealing with me. It could not be that any doubts were 
 entertained already as to my fitness for the duties I was to be 
 entrusted with, for the views expressed in the experimental 
 brochure I had been called on to write, seemed to give perfect 
 satisfaction ; but it might be that the policy of the Government 
 towards France and the United States was of such a delicate and 
 important nature that care was necessary in imparting it to a person 
 that might not appreciate it, or who might possibly be averse to 
 carrying it out. Up to this time all that I had said or written 
 was conscientiously conceived and loyally uttered, but so practised 
 a diplomatist as Lord Palmerston might infer more or less than 
 was meant.
 
 110 A VISIT TO THE FOBEIGN OFFICE. 
 
 I was, as yet, wholly ignorant of the employment to be assigned 
 to me, or of the tasks to be executed, still my mind was firmly 
 made up to do nothing repugnant to my convictions, or contrary to 
 what I conceived to oe the true policy to pursue. How far a 
 Statesman of Lord Palmerston's extraordinary ability would suffer 
 independence in a humble subordinate remained to be seen. I was 
 entirely satisfied from all that had transpired that the policy of the 
 noble Secretary of State towards France was to favour the interests 
 of the Prince Louis Napoleon so far as he could go without positive 
 interference with the domestic affairs of the nation. I apprehended 
 no disagreement with his Lordship on this ground, for all my hopes 
 of France were founded on the extension of the President's tenure 
 of power. 
 
 But, as regards the United States, I did fear the possibility of 
 coming into collision with the opinions of Lord Palmerston, 
 though I had seen nothing in what he had said on my first visit to 
 Broadlands to justify such an apprehension. The subject, then, 
 however, was only alluded to, not discussed, and it might turn out 
 that his Lordship entertained conclusions in many points opposite 
 to mine. I felt duly conscious of my littleness alongside of a 
 political Titan of the force of Lord Palmerston; still I was con 
 vinced that I knew far more of my own country than did any 
 European Statesman, no matter what his skill or experience. 
 This was an advantage I never meant to yield. 
 
 I knew what should be the policy of England towards the United 
 States, but I did not know whether Lord Palmerston would look 
 in the same direction as I did. The traditions of the Foreign 
 Office, and the prejudices of his class, might bias his views ; or 
 had he the force and the desire to rise above both, if he saw the 
 interests of his country demanded it. This I believed. Should
 
 A VISIT TO THE FOREIGX OFFICE. Ill 
 
 it turn out otherwise, then, my tenure of attacheship to the Foreign 
 Office would be short-lived, for I never could consent, calmly, to 
 obey instructions that I considered, on superior knowledge, to be 
 disastrous to the cause I had undertaken to serve.
 
 112 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 I receiver! the hearty congratulations of the Hon. Mr. Edwardes, 
 on ray return to Paris, at the final consummation of my connection 
 with the Foreign Office, and in return I made him my warm acknow 
 ledgments for the part he had in the matter. We dined together 
 at the Cafe Philippe by way of celebrating the event, and over our 
 demi-tasse I made known to him, amongst other details, that Mr. 
 Addington had offered to me a letter for the Marquis of Norraanby, 
 but that I had reserved for him the satisfaction of presenting me. 
 My friend's countenance underwent a marvellous change. 
 
 " A letter to the Marquis of Normanby, did you say ? " and he 
 regarded me with astonishment. 
 
 " Yes," I repeated, surprised in my turn, " Mr. Addington pro 
 posed my taking a letter to the Ambassador, explaining my position, 
 but I suggested your presenting me to him would do as well." 
 
 " Indeed ! " he slowly responded, and sunk into a fit of deep 
 reverie. 
 
 I was singularly puzzled at the strange mixture of wonder and 
 disappointment manifested by Mr. Edwardes at so simple and natural 
 an incident. After cudgelling my brains for awhile, I broke ia 
 upon his meditations by abruptly asking what there was in my 
 bringing over a letter to the Ambassador that struck him as so 
 very odd.
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 113 
 
 "Why," he said, rousing himself, " I thought the thing was to 
 be on a different footing altogether." 
 
 " How so? " I enquired. 
 
 " I supposed," he continued, " that the Ambassador was to 
 know nothing at all of your connection with the Foreign Office." 
 
 " Indeed !" I said, beginning to get a little perplexed, " with 
 whom, then, was I to consult in Paris ? " 
 
 " With me, of course," returned Mr. Edwardes, " and I cannot 
 understand the motive of this new arrangement." 
 
 Here was a hitch at the very start of my diplomatic career, and 
 it seemed ominous. 
 
 " Well, what is best to be done ? " I demanded, after a pause in 
 our conversation, " the matter had better be settled in one way or 
 the other." 
 
 " You are right," he returned, " it had better be decided, so I 
 will write to-morrow over to Broadlands to know if you are to be 
 presented or not to the Marquis of Normanby." 
 
 " It's of no great importance, after all," I declared, " for I shall 
 report from time to time direct to Mr. Addington as to what I am 
 about." 
 
 Whether Mr. Edwardes thought it worth his while to write or not, 
 I don't know ; but in touching on the same topic a few days later, 
 he seemed anxious to divert me from seeing the Ambassador. 
 
 " What's the use of your going to Lord Normanby ? " he re 
 marked, " he would only turn you over to his Private Secretary ; 
 that would be the end of it. I am far fitter than he is to advise 
 with you. Never mind Lord Normanby we can get on without 
 him." 
 
 This was the tenor of his remarks whenever the subject came up, 
 but it was clearly the first intention of Mr. Addington I should
 
 114 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 meet the Ambassador. I was in doubt whether it had been differ 
 ently decided, or whether Mr. Edwardes was anxious to monopolize 
 me for objects of his own. Fearing I might get into some difficulty, 
 I was half disposed to go direct to Lord Normanby, but I was 
 reluctant to risk offending my friend Edwardes, whom I liked in 
 spite of his oddities. Still my position was an embarrassing one. 
 
 Before beginning such a job as I had in hand, I ought, as a 
 matter of course, to have consulted at length with some competent 
 party relative to my proceedings at Paris. I knew from my 
 conversations with Lord Palmerston at Broadlands, that his 
 intentions were pacific towards France, and highly friendly to the 
 President of the Republic ; but there were a multitude of minor 
 details upon which 1 might from time to time require information, 
 and which I was not likely to get from Mr. Edwardes, who either 
 played dummy, or, more likely, was quite in the dark himself. 
 I regretted deeply enough I had not brought the letter Mr. 
 Addington had offered me to the Marquis of Normanby ; but I 
 was not disposed to be idle, and began to revolve what I should 
 set about, even without instructions. 
 
 It was palpable enough that the best interests of England and 
 France, material and moral, required a thorough understanding 
 between them ; and there was nothing in the world to prevent 
 this but the violent prejudices which grew out of old feuds and 
 actual ignorance of each other. These prejudices were kept 
 daily alive by the bitter fulminations of the French Press against 
 England ; and to sotteu, it" not extinguish these, I thought my 
 attention had better at once be directed. It was certainly a very 
 droll task for me to undertake. An American and a Republican 
 to set about reconciling the fiery journalists of Paris with perfide 
 Albion, as England was then styled, and which, whatever their
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 115 
 
 differences amongst themselves, they cordially disliked, was really 
 an enterprise that may have testified to my pluck more than it did 
 to my common sense. Yet I was inspired by so noble a cause, 
 for the smallest success would contribute more or less to the good 
 of these great nations, and to the general interests of humanity. 
 
 I saw that in approaching the Editors of the Paris Press, who 
 were wild with party spirit, I should be obliged to appeal to their 
 interests rather than to their patriotism or philanthropy ; but 
 though I should use political arguments, I had no political views 
 to propagate, my sole purpose being a closer approximation be 
 tween the French and English people. I drew comfort from the 
 reflection that whatever might be thought of the eccentricity of 
 my projects, no doubts could be thrown on my disinterestedness, 
 for I meant, of course, to conceal my diplomatic connection with 
 the English Government, that would add to my importance, but 
 diminish likely my chances of success. 
 
 In November, '50, the entire Parisian Press were writing with 
 the keenest acrimony against England, and the great guns of 
 journalism were as rapid and fierce in their abusive discharges as 
 those of smaller calibre. The first journal in circulation at that 
 moment was Le Siecle, exceeding 40,000 daily. It advocated the 
 moderate Republic, and was conducted with great ability and 
 earnestness of tone. The Siecle had taken the popular side from 
 its origin, and its escutcheon was free from stain of inconsistency 
 or corruption. I regretted to see this powerful journal, bitter as 
 it was able in its diatribes against England, doing so much mis 
 chief, and I selected it as the first and most important mark for 
 me to circumvallate as best I could. 
 
 I procured a letter to its Editor, Louis Perree, and made his 
 acquaintance. We had several friends in common amongst the 
 
 I
 
 116 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 politicians of the day, and pleasant cordiality soon sprang up 
 between us. After an interview or so, I took a pliant moment 
 and touched upon the delicate chord of perfde Million, and the 
 remarks of an American on such a subject were listened to with 
 curiosity. He was surprised at the elevation I gave the topic, for 
 instead of discussing Oligarchies and Republics, or questions of 
 territory and power, I spoke only of the interests of civilization 
 involved in a friendly understanding between such nations as France, 
 England, and the United States. These simple views coming 
 from a quarter so unexpected produced a decided impression ; but 
 I held stronger batteries in reserve, which were destined, however, 
 for another party; for aftei a long conversation, the Editor-in- 
 Chief said : 
 
 "I would like you to see M. Lamarche; he wiites all our 
 foreign articles, and has our entire confidence. Converse with 
 him, and convince him if you can." So saying, he wrote me a 
 few lines of introduction to the Editor specially charged with the 
 foreign department of the Siecle, and I took my leave with 
 thanks. 
 
 I followed up my advantage by calling immediately upon M. 
 Lamarche. I knew something of his antecedents, and they were 
 all against my hopes. He had seen both military and naval 
 service under the first Napoleon, and had the ill-luck to be taken 
 prisoner by the English, and to be detained till the close of the 
 War in the hulks at Plymouth. There was season enough for 
 his prejudice against the English, and I regretted to have so 
 tough a subject to begin with. 
 
 Nothing could be less conciliating than the manners of M. 
 Lamarche, I found, on first acquaintance. He had all the brus- 
 guerie of the French soldier, without being tempered by the usual
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TBICMPH. 117 
 
 suavity of French courtesy. His face had a crabbed rather than a 
 stern sxpression, but his eye redeemed it, for it sparkled with intel 
 ligence, not unmixed with goodness. His voice was harsh, but 
 his articulation very distinct. Though rough, he was exceedingly 
 off-hand ; and I was quite at home with him in five minutes. He 
 talked with great volubility ; his information was vast and various, 
 and his memory of men and events was prodigious. It required no 
 little nerve to make head against :3uch a torrent of ideas and recol 
 lections as poured like a Niagara upon the overpowered listener of 
 M. Lamarche. 
 
 In my first interview with this very superior man, I was sin 
 gularly struck with the unalloyed common-sense of all his views 
 and opinions. The French temperament is ardent, and a calm and 
 exact perception of things is rare, especially on political topics, 
 where their feelings mostly run off with their reason. M. Lamarche 
 had seen a great deal of the world; his knowledge was copious, 
 and his mind well balanced. Upon this I built my aspirations. 
 His thirst for information was intense ; and he never talked with 
 any one without seeking to learn or teach him something. An 
 American was a curiosity and a study for him, and he drew merci 
 lessly on my experience. At the time I met M. Lamarche he had 
 two favorite antipathies England and slavery. Nothing could be 
 unluckier for me. I saw him several times before I ventured to 
 touch the first of these tender spots, and when I did he went off 
 in one of his bursts of bilious vociferation that almost dismayed 
 me. I prudently drew him out several times in this way on different 
 occasions, and never once essayed to remonstrate. I knew my 
 boldness would have the better effect when I once began to speak 
 my mind freely. M. Lamarche only knew me as a patient listener 
 and hardly dreamt I would ever venture to turn upon him with the 
 vigour of an assailant.
 
 118 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 The day came, and it was over a pleasant dinner we took together, 
 and which I secretly hoped would render him more pliable 
 to the impression I desired to make. We soon got upon politics, 
 the only subject he relished ; and the United States was discussed 
 in every point of view. He fell foul, as I expected, of our peculiar 
 institution of slavery, and, admitting all he said on abstract 
 grounds, I defended it in a practical point of view, and asked him 
 to suggest a remedy for the evil. I kept him chafing violently 
 against this favorite horror of this till his polemical spirit was 
 somewhat subdued, when I whisked him suddenly over to England. 
 
 "I see, M. Lamarche," I said, "that you tire always battering 
 away at your nearest neighbours, the English." 
 
 " Ah, ces sacres Anglais ! " (those infernal English !) he ex 
 claimed, with ineffable disgust, and emptied his champagne glass 
 at a draught, as though washing down a mass of unpleasant 
 souvenirs. 
 
 " Do you know," I replied, in a pleasant tone, " that I am sur 
 prised that a man of your extraordinary intelligence should give 
 way to a prejudice that belongs more to the 17th century than to 
 the 19th; a prejudice, too, that your reason must condemn, that 
 your national interests oppose, and, above all, that your aspirations, 
 as a Republican, require you to overcome." 
 
 I don't believe M. Lamarche ever had so nauseous a bolus so 
 unexpectedly administered to him, and coming, too, from an 
 American, whom he regarded as a fellow foe to l 'ces sacres An 
 glais." He was dumb for a moment, and stared at me with his 
 eye twinkling and flashing like an enraged bull at some daring 
 Picador advancing on it, lance in hand. He went off, as I ex 
 pected, in a perfect hurricane of words for half-an-hour, which I 
 affected to listen to with the most courteous attention, whilst I
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 119 
 
 was carelessly awaiting to see the real effect of my words after the 
 fumes of his choler had cleared away. I calculated accurately, 
 for, finding I made no reply to his denunciatory phrases, he came 
 round to the point where I knew I had touched him vitally. 
 
 "Mais qiiel horrible paradoxe vous avez dit la!" (What a 
 horrible paradox you have uttered), he said, at length, " when you 
 state my hopes as a Republican are damaged by assailing the 
 aristocratic institutions of England. It is just the contrary " 
 He stopped and looked curiously at me. 
 
 " It is no paradox," I replied. " I repeat it is an egregious 
 error, nay, worse, a downright absurdity in the Republican party 
 of France, to assail England in so unmeasured a manner." I went 
 on whiffing my cigar quietly. 
 
 " Une absurdite! " articulated M. Lamarche with difficulty, and 
 continued gazing at me as though quite staggered. 
 
 " Why, what can be clearer !" I returned. " What is a Republic 
 if not a Constitutional Government ? and where can you find in 
 Europe any model to justify your theories against the despotic creed 
 but in England ? The English Government may be an Oligarchy, 
 yet it is not an Oligarchy of the middle ages, but a Parliamentary 
 Oligarchy, the very thing you Republicans sought to establish in 
 1848, but are not likely to succeed in. The only chance to save 
 the French Republic, is to copy from the country you are 
 daily disparaging from mere prejudice, now quite out of date. I 
 am far from recommending Parliamentary Government to France, 
 which, before all countries, requires a vigorous Executive, but Eng 
 land is the only nation in Europe, or the world, where representa 
 tive institutions have existed for centuries, and where they have 
 brought forth the fruits of civil and religious liberty, that have 
 flourished in still greater luxuriance thousands of miles away from
 
 120 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 the parent soil, in the United States. Now, it is surely not 
 your object, M. Lamarche, nor that of any sane Republican, to 
 write down representative institutions and which the Siecle was 
 founded expressly to uphold ; then why do you decry England 
 instead of eulogising her ? You are not obliged to praise the aristo 
 cratic features of her Constitution, which I, as an American, do not 
 like, but remember, that in England only, of ancient or modern 
 times, the principle of representation has flourished and endured." 
 
 I knew my time had come, and I went on hammering the nail on 
 the head in this fashion, resolved to pin down for ever, if possible, 
 the anti-English hobgoblin that haunted the fancy of my new friend. 
 M. Lamarche was a soldier before he took up the pen, and true to his 
 craft, he endeavoured to make a bold front of it ; but I saw his 
 better part was cowed, that his mind misgave him. His face had 
 a troubled appearance. He kept cracking up the filberts before 
 him with astonishing vigour, exclaiming occasional^, during my 
 tirades, " ah ca," or letting drop a phrase from the camp " venire 
 bleu," yet he did not seek to interrupt me. There was a tremen 
 dous commotion going on inwardly I could see, for logic was 
 wrestling against the prejudice of years. 
 
 " What you have said there is striking," he declared, rising 
 to go. 
 
 " Yes, strikingly simple," I replied. 
 
 " n faut y reflechir" (it is necessary to reflect), he continued, 
 and " I will lay what you have said before the Council of Editors 
 to-morrow." 
 
 I was surprised at the progress I had made. 
 
 " I beg you to do so," I said, earnestly, " for the Republic is 
 in a critical state, and the policy of its best friends is doing it more 
 harm than its worst enemies."
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 121 
 
 1 felt convinced that I had got a firm grasp ou the common 
 sense of M. Lamarche, and I anticipated a favourable result. His 
 intellect and character, both would join to prevent his persisting 
 in a false view, having once perceived it. Only three or four days 
 after this he invited me to dine with the leading Editors of the 
 Siecle, M. Bernard and M. Louis Jourdan. 1 accepted readily, as 
 I desired nothing better than to increase my intimacy with, this 
 powerful organ. 
 
 I found my new acquaintances, like all Frenchmen, whatever 
 their grade or occupation, perfect men of the world, easy- 
 mannered, free from pretension, fine talkers, and full of spirits. 
 We discussed all manner of things as dinner went on, and when 
 the servants left us, M. Lamarche turned short round in his off- 
 'hand way and desired me to explain to his colleagues the views I 
 had expressed the other day to him. I now saw the purport of 
 my introduction to these gentlemen, and I declared my mind as 
 frankly to them as I had done on the first occasion. To my ex 
 treme satisfaction, M. Lamarche sustained me, and to cover over 
 his own conversion, he set to work adroitly to convince his 
 confreres that the Siecle was on the wrong tack in assailing repre 
 sentative institutions, even, though, unfortunately, they existed on 
 the soil of perfide Albion. 
 
 Two or three more dinners followed this, and I rejoiced at this 
 admirable opportunity of familiarising myself with the Kepublican. 
 mind of Prance in its moderate phase. The end of all this was, 
 first, that the Siecle ceased abusing England ; second, that it 
 began to treat her with fairness and favour, and last, though most 
 surprising of all, instead of representing Lord Palmerston daily as 
 the Mephistopheles of the political world, it admitted his ability, 
 and discussed his policy impartially. This was my first success
 
 122 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 over French prejudice, which, however, is so nearly worn out, that 
 it required only a direct appeal to common sense to vanquish it. 
 The plainest proof that the Sie'cle saw that its mission was falsified 
 in attacking England with her parliamentary institutions, is that 
 to this day it has persisted in the tone I ventured to suggest was 
 the proper one. 
 
 The astonishment of myjidus Achates, Mr. Edwardes, knew no 
 bounds at seeing the most influential journal in France drop its 
 bitter hostility to England, and take up the cudgels in her behalf. 
 He called it a triumph, and thought me adequate to any effort 
 after that. A distinguished friend of Lord Palmerston, when he 
 heard of it, declared, " I had by that single exploit earned my 
 paltry salary ten times over." For my part, I was content that 
 I had a share in rescuing enlightened men and a leading journal 
 from mistaken conceptions of French policy, and so paving the 
 way to a better understanding between France and England. 
 
 My easy success against formidable odds encouraged me to 
 persevere in the same line of action, and I next turned my atten 
 tion to the much read journal of the well known Emile de Girardin, 
 La Presse. It was conducted with great vigour by its owner, 
 Girardin, who employed the best talent he could find in its various 
 departments, besides contributing to it daily the productions of 
 his own unrivalled pen. The tone of La Presse was unfriendly to 
 England, but its attacks were chiefly levelled at Lord Palmerston. 
 I thought it might proceed from personal dislike, or, perhaps, 
 from mistaken views of the character and motives of the English 
 Foreign Secretary. I felt no delicacy in approaching E. de 
 Girardin on the subject, for I knew him intimately, and I was 
 quite satisfied if my representations convinced his mind he 
 would abandon at once his spiteful clamour against Lord Pal-
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 123 
 
 merston ; for Girardin, though " nothing, if not critical," was 
 never unjust from mere love of censure. 
 
 It turned out just as I suspected. Though so prominent a man 
 for so many years, Lord Palmerston is the least understood of any 
 Statesman in Europe. He is accused everywhere of being the 
 enemy of everybody, which is so far true that he maintains the 
 interests of England with a hand no less firm than skilful. Foreign 
 Statesmen find it impossible to outwit him, whilst his ceaseless ac 
 tivity gives them no rest. If they take their eye off from him for 
 a moment, they find some advantage lost, and in their rage they 
 pelt him pitilessly in the columns of the official journal from St. 
 Petersburgh to Washington. 
 
 The policy of Lord Palmerston is intensely national, and he will 
 push English influence, and advance English interests, in every 
 quarter and against everybody. Perhaps his zeal may sometimes 
 be indiscreet, and he risks more than he can gain, but, on per 
 ceiving this, he retreats with a dexterity that confounds his 
 opponents. Just at the moment they are prepared to crush him in 
 the corner, where at last they've got him, they discover to their 
 consternation he is not there, but smiling pleasantly at them from 
 another point. There are some who think that Lord Palmerston 
 is so fond of a joke that he cannot restrain his love of fun in the 
 gravest matters, and that he plays with politics as a kitten with a 
 ball, but I am in the habit, on the contrary, of regarding Lord 
 Palmerston as one of those vigilant mariners who knows that 
 the vessel of state, like other craft, sails best and straightest when 
 the helm is kept in constant motion. 
 
 When I asked De Girardin flatly why he so often inveighed 
 against one of the cleverest men of the epoch, he exclaimed in his 
 rapid way :
 
 124 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 " Pour mille et mille raisons" (for a thousand reasons). 
 
 " D'abord" (in the first place) I said. 
 
 " D'abord" he repeated, hesitating, as though completely posed. 
 
 It was probably the first time he ever reflected why he attacked 
 him. Eecovering himself, he said : 
 
 " ffest Vennemi acftarne de la France" (he is the ferocious enemy 
 of France). 
 
 " Do you think so?" I replied, doubtingly. 
 
 " Comment, is there any question of it ?" and away he went into 
 an angry description of the outrage committed against France in 
 1840, when Lord Palmerston gave a lesson to Mehemet Ali in 
 Syria. 
 
 " You must admit, Monsieur de Girardin,'' I said, after he had 
 finished, " that it is an imperious necessity for the English Govern 
 ment to maintain their footing in Egypt, as it is their highway to 
 India?" 
 
 " Soit" (Be it so), lie answered. 
 
 " Why, then, you admit that Lord Palmerston only did what 
 he would have been a coward or a traitor not to do in 1840. It is 
 clear that it was not to offend France, or to diminish her influence 
 in Egypt that he attacked the Pasha, but it was to save India from 
 peril, which France had certamly no wish to see endangered. It 
 was a bold act, bvt a necessary one, and the French are too 
 valiant, to condemn courage when occasion calls for it." 
 
 " It was pusillanimous in our Government to suffer it." returned 
 M. de Girardin, " but that poor man, Louis Philippe, sacrificed 
 everything for peace." 
 
 " It would have been madness in France," I continued, " to 
 make war with England in '40. What interest had France to 
 prevent Lord Palmerston struggling to keep the high-road open ta
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 125 
 
 India ? None in the world. A great outcry was raised against 
 M. Thiers and Louis Philippe at the time by the Opposition 
 orators and journals, but the Government knew public opinion forbad 
 R suicidal war on such trifling grounds." 
 
 " Mais ce Lord Palmerston travaille toujonrs et partout contre la 
 France" (but that Lord Palmerston is always working in every 
 place against France), exclaimed De Girardin. 
 
 " What proof have you of that ?" I demanded. 
 
 Whilst he was trying to rake up the proofs, I went on to say 
 that I had indubitable proofs that Lord Palmerston's sympa 
 thies were wholly French ; that, besides his admiration for la 
 grande nation, he knew that the interests of his own country im 
 peratively demanded a fraternal alliance with France, and therefore 
 it was impossible for him to risk a rupture by working against her 
 secretly, or otherwise." 
 
 " It must be strong proof, indeed," declared de Girardin, incredu 
 lous, " to make me credit that." 
 
 " Lord Palmerston used almost this very language only a few 
 weeks ago." 
 
 "To whom?" cried de Girardin, astonished. 
 
 " A votre senifeur," I replied. 
 
 "To you?" 
 
 " To me." 
 
 " Comment done** said de Girardin, Iris curiosity getting the 
 better of him, " expliqiiez moi tout cela" (explain all that to me). 
 
 I then began to speak of my recent visit to Broadlands, and re 
 lated all the pleasant and sensible things said of Prance by the 
 noble Secretary of State, and of his desire to cultivate in the in 
 terest of both nations the closest ties of amity. I might have 
 added an additional proof of his sincerity by stating the object of 
 his engagement with me, but I forbore doing so.
 
 126 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 M. de Girarclin was visibly softened by my positive testimony 
 as to the sentiments and character of Lord Palmerston so widely 
 opposite to the opinions he had always entertained. We talked 
 the matter over for some time, when the aggressive journalist 
 seemed inclined to rally again. 
 
 " Mais il se mele de tout, my Lord Palmerston," (but he inter 
 feres in everything, my Lord Palmerston) he exclaimed, as tho' re 
 luctant to give up his prey. 
 
 " Et vous" (and you), I said, laughing loudly, " what is there 
 your impetuous activity does not interfere with ? Woe to all Go 
 vernments if ever you become Minister for Foreign Aft'airs." M. 
 de Girardin was obliged to laugh in his turn at this just retort, 
 and he added good naturedly 
 
 " Eh bien ! I see I must be careful how I handle your noble 
 friend hereafter." 
 
 He was as good as his intimation, for I remarked that la Presse 
 took from that time a different view of Lord Palmerston's charac 
 ter and acts. 
 
 Finding my victories so easily gained, I was not inclined to 
 relax my exertions, but went on from conquest to conquest, even 
 till I succeeded somewhat in subduing the deep-rooted asperity of 
 Amedee Achard, whose Anglophobia was so rabid that he spared 
 not even the cut of Lord Normauby's coat, when no other object 
 to vilify presented itself. 
 
 I often met the sparkling feuilletoniste of the Assembled Nation- 
 ale at the pleasant dinner table of M. Vandenbruck, of the Ame 
 rican banking house, Green and Co. I used to rally him on 
 his worrying propensities. I threatened him once, if he did not 
 suspend his attacks upon the unoffending Ambassador, that I 
 would some day carry him off to the Embassy vi et armis and
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 127 
 
 present him. The chance of such a contretemps befalling him had 
 its effect, and by degrees Lord Normanbv's name disappeared 
 from the weekly ragout served up so piquantly by Amedee Achard. 
 
 In short, I discovered that not only was the character and dispo 
 sition of the British Foreign Secretary totally misunderstood 
 by the Press of Paris, but that my representations of him were 
 so acceptable as to lead to an entire revolution in their opinions and 
 expressions concerning him. I consider this, certainly, a most 
 desirable result, as the prejudice of long years against Lord 
 Palmerston was likely to militate more than anything else against 
 that harmony and cordiality between the two nations so specially 
 invoked by his Lordship. With a view to disabuse the minds of 
 multitudes, as well as to remove arguments from the hands of those 
 whose interest or passions urged them to seek the estrangement of 
 England and France, the idea occurred to me to draw up a 
 conversation with Lord Palmerston, not an imaginary one, in the 
 style of the celebrated Landor, but an anonymous one, so far as the 
 collocutor of his Lordship was concerned, and I knew that I 
 could procure its insertion in nearly every journal of Paris et la 
 Banlieu. 
 
 I made a sketch of this sort, putting as exactly as I could re 
 call them his Lordship's words into his own mouth again, but at 
 the same time giving a precision to his language, that would pre 
 vent it being " strained to grosser issue" than was desirable. I 
 felt duly sensible that even in making an anonymous report of his 
 Lordship's political views, every care must be taken not to expose 
 him to criticism or unpleasant comment. I thought that I 
 managed the thing with requisite caution, and when I finished 
 the job, I laid it before my diplomatic surveillant, Mr. Edwardes, 
 anticipating new congratulations upon the felicity of my conception.
 
 128 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 To my astonishment he fell foul of my scheme with a vigor of de 
 nunciation that for a moment shook my notion of its propriety to 
 the base. 
 
 " What a horrible idea ! " he said, holding up his hands as if 
 thunderstruck. 
 
 " Indeed," I said, fumbling my MSS., and looking, I dare say, 
 as Desdemona did when she asked " what innocent crime she'd 
 committed ? " 
 
 " Throw the stuff into the fire," he continued, " and don't think 
 another moment of such an outrage." 
 
 By this time I had recovered my composure, and so I asked 
 him to explain himself a little clearer, if he wanted to convince me. 
 
 " Explain myself ! " he demanded. " Why, do you think, after 
 publishing a gentleman's conversation, you would ever be admitted 
 to his house again ? " 
 
 " That's a very high-bred notion of yours," I replied, seizing 
 his idea at last. " Nothing could be more proper in the abstract, 
 but nothing more irrelevant on this occasion." 
 
 I was half disposed to say absurd, but did not. 
 
 "Irrelevant ! " he echoed, as much shocked as ever. 
 
 "What is more common uow-a-days," I persisted, " than to 
 publish conversations with distinguished men living and dead, and 
 what can be more harmless, if every trait of the literary portrait 
 revealed is to the honour and advantage of the party depicted ? 
 You know how much I have accomplished in overcoming preju 
 dices by true statements of Lord Palraerstou's sentiments, and 
 what possible objection can there be to doing this in a more com 
 prehensive way, since the object to be gained is so important." 
 
 I soon discovered that argument was thrown away on my obsti 
 nate friend, who was swelling to bursting with an overstrained
 
 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 129 
 
 sense of propriety, which I thought was entirely inapplicable to the 
 case ; but I found it impossible to reduce him to my view of the 
 matter by reason or logic, and so I decided at once to bury in 
 the recesses of my portfolio the excommunicated manuscript, 
 which, beyond a doubt, was likely to effect much good, without 
 tiny great damage to ies bienseances. I had reason, to believe, 
 however, that the warmth of my friend Mr. Edwardes on this 
 occasion had its source in another incident I see no objection in 
 relating. 
 
 I happened to encounter Lord Normanby, the Ambassador, at 
 dinner one day, and on reminding him where I had the pleasure of 
 meeting him occasionally in London some years before, he ex 
 pressed his readiness to renew my acquaintance, and desired me to 
 call on him. I did so a few days later, and naturally enough in 
 the course of conversation, I alluded to my connection with the Fo 
 reign Office, which I took it for granted had been mentioned to him 
 by Mr. Edwardes, as he had promised to do. Lord Normanby's 
 surprise was extreme. He knew nothing at all about it, and there 
 fore I was under the necessity of giving him some explanation, 
 referring him to Mr. Edwardes for further details. It turned out, 
 however, that I gave Mr. Edwardes great umbrage by this seemingly 
 harmless act of mine, which 1 regietted but could not understand. 
 He never vouchsafed me any explanation. I felt sure that Lord 
 Palmerston never intended my appointment to remain unknown to 
 the Ambassador at Paris, as is evident from Mr. Addington's offer 
 of a letter, and how was I to know that Mr. Edwardes had neglected 
 or forgotten to mention it. This incident, trifling as it was, led to 
 consequences more grave that I may possibly mention in their 
 place. 
 
 That the Foreign Office might not remain in ignorance of what
 
 130 A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH. 
 
 I was about, I wrote over to Mr. Addington some brief details of 
 what I have related above, and added such items of political in 
 formation as I thought would be interesting if not useful. I re 1 - 
 ceived soon after the following reply, which I considered satisfactory, 
 as it eucouraged me to continue my missives : 
 
 Private. Estcourt, 27th December, '50. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 I have received your letter while en congS in the country, 
 and have transmitted it to my colleague, Lord Stanley (of Aldcrley), 
 for Lord Palmerston's information. 
 
 It will be better that you should address your letters in future to 
 Lord Palmerston, or to Lord Stanley (marking them " Private") 
 through Her Majesty's Embassy at Paris. 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 H. U. ADDINGTON. 
 
 It was clear enough to me from this letter that Lord Palmerston 
 desired to be kept informed of my proceedings in Paris, and the 
 direction given me to forward my reports to the Foreign Office 
 convinced me that I was not responsible to Mr. Edwardes, though, 
 it was apparent enough that he wished to assume my diplomatic 
 guardianship.
 
 THE GAUNTLET EAISED. 131 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GAUNTLET BAISED. 
 
 Whilst occupied in the manner above related, my attention was 
 constantly alive to passing events. Every succeeding month 
 brought with it some new phase of the contest daily growing 
 more distinct between the aggressive Assembly and their intended 
 victim, the President. At length, in January, '51, the mask was 
 thrown aside by the Monarchists of the Assembly, and no pains 
 were henceforth taken to conceal their intention to get rid of the 
 Prince Louis Napoleon at the earliest practicable moment. Pre 
 suming on his weakness they had, at first, endeavoured to dragoon 
 him into obedience. Finding him less pliant than expected they 
 next essayed the arts of flattery, and the coarser corruption of 
 bribes. Discovering that he was as reluctant to yield to seduction 
 as to dictation, and as blindly convinced as ever of the President's 
 incapacity, the Monarchists lost their temper, and M. Thiers 
 launched the famous phrase which was regarded as a sentence to 
 execution. " II faut en finir" (it is necessary to put an end to 
 this), declared the aspiring arbiter of the destinies of France, 
 and the majority of the Assembly set their wits to work as to 
 the best mode of suppressing the unhappy President, who, by 
 refusing to become the tool of faction, had incurred their puissant 
 displeasure. 
 
 The Republican minority vastly enjoyed the fatal struggle now 
 about to begin between the Monarchical majority and the President, 
 
 X
 
 132 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 whom they alike detested, and both of whom they desired heartily to 
 see overthrown, in the expectation of jumping into their places, and 
 so getting back to power again. Calculating, in the grim spirit of 
 lago, " now whether he kill Cassio, or Cassio kill him," they 
 felt sure that the result must be to their advantage. It was, in 
 deed, melancholy to a passive spectator, like myself, to see a great 
 and noble nation like France become the mere sport and toy of so 
 many political gamins, and all its vast interests jeopardised, and 
 the lives of thousands endangered, merely that the leaders of this 
 party or that might wear the embroidery of Ministers of State, 
 live in sumptuous palaces, and receive the homage of the crowd. 
 
 Such has been the pitiful history of the world, but I felt the 
 time had come in France, as elsewhere, when politicians must do 
 something else than merely cabal and intrigue to wield the So 
 vereign power. In the depth of their selfishness and the ardor of 
 their ambition, I saw that the politicians of the Assembly, both 
 Monarchists and Republicans, had lost sight of this grave truth 
 or more probably were entirely ignorant of it. Such is the vanity 
 of man that your keen politician is too apt to overrate his tricks, 
 his cunning, and devices, whilst he ignores that piercing common 
 sense of the masses which now-a-days is a fait accompli. When, 
 in the pride of intellect, and with all the pomp of oratory, M. 
 Thiers, from the height of the Tribune, avowed his unfeigned 
 contempt for the " vile multitude," I pitied his infatuation and 
 deplored the fate that awaited him the infallible punishment of 
 his ignorance or obstinacy. The " vile multitude" has governed 
 France since 1789, and what has been the fate of all who have 
 sought to guide it against its knowledge of its true interests, both 
 Monarchists and Republicans ? 
 
 I built my faith on the President's future from his accurate
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 133 
 
 knowledge of the past, and his evident comprehension of the 
 present, as revealed in his daily conduct. He seemed to recognise 
 the fact that there was a power in France greater than that of the 
 Assembly or his own, the power of public opinion, and that his 
 chances of duration depended upon his ability to interpret its 
 wishes. With the daring of (Edipus, he undertook to solve the 
 riddles of this terrible sphynx. Order, and liberty, so far as 
 compatible with order, and the material development of France 
 it was thus he propounded the enigma of the future. As far 
 as it depended on him he struggled to carry out these conclusions 
 of the popular mind, and steadily avoided, his crowning act, to 
 mix himself up with the factious proceedings of the Assembly. 
 
 The President felt his strength increasing gradually as his 
 character became better known, not in Paris merely, but in all 
 parts of France which he visited in his summer tours. His 
 speeches, clear and concise as his Uncle's, but appealing to the 
 sense rather than the passions of the people, convinced them the 
 President understood their wants and interests. The acclamations 
 which testified to their satisfaction at such a discovery were 
 translated by the cynics of the Assembly as the homage of the 
 " vile multitude" to a great name. 
 
 In the winter of '51, the President began to prepare himself for 
 the conflict he saw approaching and his acts of daring resolution 
 now and then astounded the leaders of all parties but they 
 attributed to caprice and temper what was the result of courage, 
 sagacity, and decision. 
 
 There was one event worth recalling, as it arrested tbe attention 
 of all France. I have spoken already of General Changarnier as a 
 guest of the President at the dinner I have recorded. He was, 
 then, high in the esteem of the President and the public both for
 
 134 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 his military reputation and grave character. The President 
 invested him with the command of the First Division of the Army, 
 as well as of the Garrison of Paris, a total of some 150,000 men. 
 This was a high mark of confidence, but the execution of his 
 duties left nothing to be desired, and the relations of the General 
 with the President were for a long time harmonious and cordial. 
 Holding so important a command, including the military control 
 of the Capital itself, made General Chang arnier a very desirable 
 acquisition, and the leaders of the Monarchical party sought to 
 win his ear, and seduce him from his allegiance. The rapid rise 
 of Changarnier, and the popularity he enjoyed, had, no doubt, 
 elicited a soaring ambition, and weakened his judgment. It was 
 hinted to him that he might play the part of General Monk over 
 again, and restore the exiled Dynasty. Deceived, like the rest, 
 by the quiet deportment and silent habits of the President, the 
 General began to think himself the better man of the two, and to 
 wonder, no doubt, why he should not be President as well as 
 General. Certain it is, he lent himself to the seductions practised 
 on him, and joined the camp of the Monarchists. 
 
 This was soon known to the public, who thought that he had 
 no business to take any part in politics, but ought to confine 
 himself to his military duties alone. The Monarchists thought, 
 and Changarnier also, that his popularity with the Army was so 
 great, that the President would not dare displace him, lest a 
 military rebellion might ensue. A great many people thought 
 so too. 
 
 Things went on in this critical way without offering the Presi 
 dent any open cause of rupture. 
 
 An incident occurred at last which not only afforded one, but led 
 to another important result. During the course of the autumn,
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 135 
 
 the President ordered the Army of Paris, some 60,000 men, to be 
 manoeuvred in portions, at different times, on the plains of Satory, 
 near Paris. The President attended these Reviews, and astonished 
 some of the old Generals, inclined to sneer at him, by taking the 
 command, and displaying his capacity to manage a corps d'armee 
 in the field. General Changarnier was also there as General-in- 
 Chief. As the work was hard both on officers and men, con 
 suming the greater part of the day, the President thought it 
 would be no great outrage on military discipline to order refresh 
 ments to be served during the hour of repose allowed. Champagne 
 was furnished for the officers, and the men were supplied with a 
 sausage and biscuit. This was known beforehand as the Pre 
 sident's intention ; and a great outcry was raised in the Assembly 
 for this odious attempt, as it was stigmatized, to corrupt the 
 Army, and convert it into a Pratorian band. 
 
 This nonsense levelled against the President had an effect not 
 anticipated. It offended the Army, who thought the Assembly 
 and its leaders must put a low estimate on their honor and intelli 
 gence to declare that a sausage or a bottle of wine could degrade 
 them to the level of Commodus' guards. The Assembly thus lost 
 the respect of the Army. General Changarnier, along with his poli 
 tical associates, condemned in harsh terms supplying the Troops 
 with refreshments during the exercises alluded to, and on one occa 
 sion marked his displeasure by quitting the field. The schism be 
 tween the President and his recalcitrant General was now beyond 
 remedy, and the Monarchists and Changarnier himself only yearned 
 for the President to venture to lay his finger upon him. No doubt 
 plans were organized for a military emeute. 
 
 It may have been a couple of months later, when most people 
 had forgotten the event, and just when the Monarchists were
 
 136 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 wrapping themselves round with the comfortable conviction that 
 the President held them in too much awe to risk the consequences, 
 that the news spread through Paris that General Changarnier was 
 destitue, deprived of all his commands, and consigned to private 
 life, whilst his important functions were bestowed on another. 
 
 Great was the rumpus thereat, and ominous were the threatenings 
 that ensued ; but whether the Monarchists found the Army not 
 inclined for mutiny, or dreaded to venture upon so formidable an 
 experiment, it is hard to say ; yet, it is certain, their indignation 
 evaporated in empty words, whilst it was circulated that Changarnier 
 was loading his brain with a tremendous oratorical charge, which was 
 to be fired off at the President the very first occasion. The day came, 
 and I had no small difficulty to get a place in the diplomatic box at 
 the Assembly. Its vast galleries were overflowing with an excited 
 auditory, and every member of the Legislative body was at his 
 post. Expectation was on tiptoe, for no one knew what the ex- 
 General of the Army of Paris might in his anger say or threaten. 
 
 When he ascended the Tribune the silence was profound. His 
 manner, however, was not that of the man I had often seen at the 
 Elysee Palace, calm and haughty. His brow was dark, and his 
 eye revealed the commotion of his mind, but he had the air of an 
 antagonist already vanquished and cowed. His speech was ex 
 ceeding brief, and only betrayed the bitterness of his heart. He 
 made some vague and spiteful allusions to the President, but ended 
 by saying he sheathed his sword only to draw it again when dangers 
 menaced the country. Whether the General had taken counsel of the 
 men who had provoked his downfall, or obeyed bis own discretion, 
 it is certain his speech had more the tone of a whimper than a 
 tirade, which, however, would have damaged him far more than 
 the President.
 
 THE GAUNTLET EAISED. 137 
 
 The effect of this decided act on the Assembly and the public 
 was remarkable. The gauntlet which the leaders of the Assembly 
 had so often contemptuously hurled at the object of their derision 
 was at length calmly picked up, and the first blow in return for 
 many words of insult and acts of defiance was administered with 
 so much skill and daring as to shake the nerves of these bellicose 
 orators. It would have been well for them to have profited by this 
 warning, but as the old line has it, " Quern Deus vult perdere, prius 
 dementat" 
 
 The public were not a little surprised at this sudden exhibition 
 of a bold spirit and a strong will, which had lain so long dormant 
 in spite of exceeding provocation. The prudence and sagacity of the 
 President was, as I have said, fast securing their hold on opinion, 
 but little was yet known of his real disposition or character. He 
 lived in a cloud of misrepresentation ; he was never seen but through 
 thick fumes of detraction, and this was the first time he had forced 
 his way through into the light of truth, and revealed himself as he 
 was. The apparition was startling, but consoling. From that day 
 the public of France took heart ; from that hour dated the future 
 of Louis Napoleon ; from that event the leaders of all parties 
 began to see the antagonist they had to cope with was, indeed, a 
 modern Brutus, and that something more than ridicule and abuse 
 was necessary to subdue so clear a head and stout a heart. 
 
 It was clear, from the debates of the Assembly, which I fre 
 quently attended, that both Monarchists and Eepublicans were 
 bent on running a muck against the President. No such thing as 
 sober and useful legislation was thought of; no measure of utility 
 was ever brought forward by the leaders of parties, and whenever 
 the President, through his Ministers, took the initiative, the politi 
 cians of both sides united to vote it down. Nothing could be
 
 138 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 more unseemly in the eyes of an Englishman or an American than 
 the behaviour of the Chamber on these occasions, and it required 
 uncommon nerve in the Minister of the day to stand his ground 
 against the volleys of gibes and sarcasms which poured in on him 
 from all quarters. 
 
 The Parliamentary practice of England had been for some time 
 the custom of France, and the Ministers of Louis Philippe, as 
 latterly those of the President, were in the habit of retiring when 
 the majority of the Chamber pronounced against them. In this way 
 the President had frequently been compelled to change his Ministers, 
 however well-adapted in all respects to the functions they had to 
 fill, or however assiduous and laborious in their discharge. The 
 object aimed at was to disturb the public mind and compromise 
 the President by these rapid changes of Cabinets. As this 
 seriously interfered with the business of the State, the President 
 decided, for this reason, as well to thwart the machinations of the 
 Legislative conspiracy, to maintain his Ministers in office, whether 
 the majority was for or against them, leaving public opinion to 
 note down the cause of this stoppage in legislation. 
 
 The "scenes" that frequently ensued the winter of '51 iu the 
 Legislative Assembly were far more piquant than decorous, and must 
 have foreshadowed in the mind of the observant stranger its inevi 
 table fate. An orator no sooner ascended the Tribune than he 
 became a target for the splenetic wit of the party to which he was 
 opposed, and the confusion was only increased by the attempts of 
 the party to which he belonged to support him. This disorderly 
 habit of interrupting a speaker prevailed, though to a lesser extent, 
 in the old Chamber of Deputies, under Louis Philippe, and has 
 always characterized the Parliamentary Assemblies of France. It 
 is not so much to disturb the orator, or impair the effect of his dis-
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 139 
 
 course, as an occasion sought for by the leaders of parties to display 
 their wit and attract to themselves the attention of the audience. 
 The presiding officer, instead of repressing these unseemly ebulli 
 tions, is more apt to encourage them by his example ; and a French 
 Legislature, so far from rivalling in dignity and decorum that of 
 England or the United States, more frequently outvies in noise and 
 irregularity their worse conducted public assemblages. 
 
 During the winter of '51 the leading members of the Presi 
 dent's Cabinet were M. Baroche, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and 
 M. Leon Faucher, Minister of the Interior. The appearance of 
 either of them at the Tribune was something like a signal for 
 tumult. These gentlemen, in sympathy and principle, adhered 
 Tather to the Monarchists than the Republicans, and they used all 
 their influence with the former to obtain their legislative support. 
 Party considerations, however, were stronger than patriotic im 
 pulses, and they were as often assailed and annoyed by their 
 friends as by their more direct antagonists. M. Baroche, at the 
 Tribune, invariably maintained his dignity and composure, what 
 ever the provocation. A statesman of superior ability, sound 
 judgment, refined taste, and perfect self-control, he often subdued, 
 by his manner and the adroitness of his discourse, the unruly dis 
 positions of the turbulent politicians around him. 
 
 It was just the absence of all these conciliating traits that made 
 Leon Faucher's attempts to address the Assembly a scene of tumult 
 that would have startled a spectator unused to the stormy out 
 breaks of the legislative body at this epoch. There was something 
 incontestably pugnacious in the disposition of the Minister of the 
 Interior, which revealed itself in the vivid flash of his keen grey 
 eye, and the defiant expression of his upturned nose. Each in 
 terruption only seemed to rouse his energy and stimulate his
 
 140 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 spirit of resistance, and leaving the subject of his discourse, he 
 ran off, as it were, in the pursuit of his assailants, and the sharp 
 ness of his retorts, and the bitterness of his repartees, often 
 abashed his adversaries, and silenced the boldest brawlers of the 
 Mountain.* 
 
 It would be impossible to give any adequate notion of one of 
 these " scenes" without copying the exact report of them which ap 
 peared in the newspapers, and that, to say the least, would consume, 
 too much space. Every leader of party managed to have his say, and 
 the character of the individual naturally displayed itself in the tone 
 of his interruption. Many French politicians excel in this species of 
 impromptu, and have acquired a notoriety in this way which would 
 not have attended more elaborate efforts. Let us imagine for a 
 moment M. Leon Faucher at the Tribune. The usual hubbub of 
 conversation would instantly cease, for the scent of the inevitable 
 rumpus would draw off every member's attention from ordinary 
 matters, and the whole House would rouse up and seem to prepare 
 itself with the rollicking spirit of mischievous schoolboys, for a 
 scene of excitement and disorder. 
 
 The Minister would begin and speak for some five minutes, 
 perhaps, amid the silence of the Assembly, when, suddenly, M. 
 Jules Favre, of the Kepublican party, would let drop some piquant 
 remark. The Minister would instantly reply with severity. 
 
 M. Victor Hugo would, next, send up one of his sarcastic 
 rockets. 
 
 M. Montalembert, of the Monarchical party, would then fire 
 off his bomb full of sardonic contempt. 
 
 * The ultra Republicans sat on the top benches at the left hand side of the Chamber, 
 which was denominated the Mountain, an expression borrowed from the first Revolu 
 tion and similarly applied.
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 141 
 
 A pungent flash would escape M. Thiers. 
 
 Genera] Cavaignac might, then, be tempted to say something 
 curt and cutting. 
 
 M. Dufaure, on the cross-benches, belonging to no side, would 
 venture some grave remark of two interpretations. 
 
 All this time the dauntless Faucher would be revolving at the 
 Tribune, as though he stood on a pivot, turning his head in every 
 direction, and . keeping up a murderous discharge of oratorical 
 missiles of every size and force, which he sent flying in every 
 direction. . Of course, the phrase of every leader would be caught 
 up, aud echoed by each member of his party, till, finally, the din 
 became deafening, and nothing could be distinctly heard in the 
 general uproar. 
 
 "What added to the oddity and absurdity of this singular 
 legislative demonstration was the behaviour of M. Dupin, the 
 President. 
 
 " Silence, Messieurs" he would cry, with persevering energy ; 
 " le Ministre a la parole," (the Minister is speaking) he would 
 shout, again, with imposing determination, whilst he beat his desk 
 vigorously with his ivory hammer. But no sooner had he par 
 tially succeeded in restoring order, than, unable to restrain his 
 caustic wit, or curb his strong Monarchical predilections, he would 
 fling at the heads of the Kepublican party some stinging reproach, 
 charging them with the whole responsibility of the disorder. 
 This manifest injustice could only renew the tumult, which would 
 go on with occasional lulls till all sides were fairly tired out with 
 their morning's pastime. 
 
 Such incidents as these have occurred in the annals of the English 
 House of Commons and the American House of Kepresentatives, 
 but they have sprung from some sudden source of excitement which
 
 142 THE GAUNTLET HAISED. 
 
 momentarily overturned the ordinary gravity, the customary pro 
 priety, of these business-like bodies, whereas this utter forgetful- 
 ness of all dignity and unjustifiable neglect of all duty by the 
 Legislative Assembly during the whole of its spasmodic existence 
 was a matter of constant and familiar occurrence. Wrapped up 
 in a sense of their own importance, and absorbed in the pursuit of 
 party objects, they were wholly unmindful of the ruinous effect of 
 such frivolous and discreditable conduct on the public mind of 
 the country. 
 
 In the Constitutional history of France there is no instance of 
 any Legislative body so insensible to the interests of the nation, 
 and so regardless of opinion, as was the Legislative Assembly of 
 '49. I can recall no act of its whole career inspired by a spirit 
 of patriotism, or dictated by a laudable anxiety to elevate the 
 condition of the country or improve the situation of the masses. 
 All that was done that had not a party motive tended only to 
 benefit one class to the detriment of the rest. 
 
 A notable proof of this was the vote of the majority to maintain 
 intact the oppressive tariff of the last reign, which enriched the 
 manufacturer to the impoverishment of the labouring class. To 
 the disgrace of the Republic of '48 this odious relic of class 
 legislation was left untouched. The Eepublic of '89 showed less 
 reverence for the venerable monuments of abuse bequeathed to 
 them by the unjust laws of other times. When the reform of the 
 tariff was mooted in the Assembly in '51, M. Thiers was the 
 zealous champion of the monopolists. 
 
 Ascending the Tribune, he delivered one of those brilliant 
 harangues which, though repugnant to the conviction of his 
 hearer, enchain him by the force of its argumentation, its lucid 
 expositions, and elegant diction. No man could seem less calcu-
 
 THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 143 
 
 lated to achieve oratorical triumphs than M. Thiers. His short 
 stature, ungraceful person ; his shrill, discordant voice ; his very 
 eye concealed by glasses ; the stranger would regard his appearance 
 at the Tribune with indifference, if not aversion. His masterly 
 intellect and charms of language soon overcome all obstacles, and 
 command admiration alike from friend and adversary. Pity that 
 such gifts should be sacrificed on the shrine of party aggrandise 
 ment or of personal ambition. 
 
 For hours M. Thiers laboured on the occasion in question to 
 distort the plainest truths, and to disguise sophistry in the specious 
 guise of reason. In the face of common-sense, and despite the 
 recent experience of other countries, M. Thiers endeavoured to 
 show that a scale of imports, in some instances prohibitory, and in 
 others most disproportionate, was to the advantage of the nation 
 and the good of the poorer classes. The shade of Colbert, the 
 patriotic founder of the French Tariff, might well have been in 
 voked to denounce doctrines that so grossly perverted the rational 
 purpose he sought to accomplish by means not more moderate 
 than skilful. 
 
 The clear vision of the public, however, was not bewildered by 
 the audacious sophistries of M. Thiers; and though he was ap 
 plauded and sustained by the unanimous vote of the Monarchical 
 party, it was not the less perceived that both he and they only 
 aimed to enlist on their side the wealth and influence of the manu 
 facturing class. Is it to be wondered at, after all I have related, 
 that the leading Statesmen of France should, one after the other, 
 fall lower and lower in public estimation ? Is it at all strange that 
 the Legislative Assembly should, after such displays of party 
 bigotry, neglect of duty, and violent excesses, sink into general 
 contempt ? Was it not natural and logical that the nation should
 
 144- THE GAUNTLET RAISED. 
 
 begin to doubt the capacity of any Parliamentary body, without 
 check or responsibility, to wield the Government of the country ? 
 The President could not fail to see the bent of the public mind ; 
 but he calmly and prudently awaited the signal which the rapid 
 current of events was destined soon to bear him. Amid the vio 
 lence of party conflicts, M. Tliiers must have had some terrible 
 misgivings, as well as a prophetic sense of the retribution that 
 awaited the faithless politicians of the day ; else why, in his im 
 patience at some act of party insubordination, did he cry from the 
 height of the Tribune, " V Empire esl fait " (the Empire is upon 
 us). Was it the hand- writing on the wall that transfixed his gaze ?
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 What services it may have been supposed by Lord Palmerston 
 it might be in my power to render him in France I know not. 
 From my connection with the Press of Paris, and occasional ap 
 pearance in its columns, he may have anticipated my possible 
 utility in that influential quarter. His knowledge of my intimacy 
 with the prominent French Statesmen of the day may have led 
 him to expect I should gather from these various points of view 
 some definite indications of forthcoming events. It is certain, 
 however, that he counted for sure upon my seizing every oppor 
 tunity and using all my experience to support his policy and make 
 known his dispositions towards the United States. 
 
 It was no doubt intended that this should be my special field 
 of action ; the most important, and most productive scene of my 
 diplomatic exertions. This was my own opinion, and I felt all 
 the responsibility and difficulty of the task. The relations of 
 Great Britain with the United States, though intimate beyond 
 what had ever existed between two nations before, still were ever 
 doubtful and uncertain. That interests so vast and complicated, 
 as depended on the friendship of these two countries, should be 
 exposed to sudden ruin, was, in truth, a gigantic evil, and it well 
 became those whose opportunities or whose position fitted them 
 for the enterprise, to look into the hidden causes of this perilous 
 state of things, in the hope to remove or extinguish them for ever.
 
 146 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 It seemed a perfect anomaly that countries like England and the 
 United States, bound together by every reason, moral and ma 
 terial, that could influence humanity, should ever and anon cast 
 looks of distrust and anger at each other, and be hurried, at times, 
 almost to the verge of hostilities. 
 
 This was a mystery eminently worth investigating, and I felt a 
 keen relish to set about the matter. Lord Palmer ston had not 
 deigned to favor me with his opinions thereupon, but simply, as 
 I have related, expressing his wish that such a condition of things 
 should cease, he confidently left it to me to employ such means as 
 in my judgment appeared the most efficacious to effect his purpose. 
 In looking at the history of the two nations I saw nothing to 
 justify, at the present day, jealousy or dislike. The rebellious 
 colonies of '76 threw off the supremacy of the mother country, 
 and by force of arms achieved their independence. This, once 
 acknowledged, the bitterness of the contest died away, and ami 
 cable relations succeeded. The haughty indifference of England 
 to their rights once more compelled the young and spirited 
 States of America to assert their dignity, and the sad spectacle 
 was presented, again, to the world of kinsmen arrayed against 
 each other in deadly conflict. This unnatural war soon ceased, 
 and the amazing results of the peace that has since prevailed 
 have not only softened the memory of past feuds, but served to 
 inculcate the wisdom of eternal friendship and goodwill. 
 
 Why is it, then, that clouds should still hover over an alliance 
 so natural and so necessary to the welfare of both ? It cannot 
 be doubted that the harsh and acrimonious tone of the English 
 Press for many years past towards the United States has engen 
 dered the suspicion amongst them that the sentiments of the com 
 munity it represents were unfriendly, if not hostile. Is this in-
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 14? 
 
 ference just, or the contrary? It would be most illogical to 
 suppose that the dispositions of the commercial world of England 
 were anything else than favorable to their best customers, for 
 interest coincides with every other consideration to draw into the 
 closest bonds of amity the great trading classes of the two coun 
 tries. In assailing the institutions, and disparaging the society of 
 the United States, it is, then, evident that the English journals 
 have in past years belied the opinions and compromised the in 
 terests of the commercial community of England. It follows, 
 therefore, that the Press have given utterance to the prejudices of 
 the political class which in England represents the aristocratic 
 interest, and which has hitherto not only monopolised the Govern 
 ment, but exercised an undisputed sway over society. 
 
 It is in the nature of things that the aristocracy of England 
 should regard with distrust and aversion the democratic insti 
 tutions of the United States, and that they should deem it their 
 interest to asperse them. It is natural that they should seek by 
 misrepresentation and abuse to preserve the popular mind of 
 England free from the infection of American doctrines, and 
 unbiassed by the influence of American example. It is from their 
 inspiration, therefore, that the English Press has teemed for many 
 years in book-form, pamphlet, and journal, with libellous attacks 
 on the institutions, character, and usages of the United States. 
 This long course of literary aggression awoke a spirit of resent 
 ment in the American mind, and has tended more than any other 
 cause to create and foster those feelings of irritation that I have 
 already said expose the friendly relations of the two countries to 
 sudden rupture. 
 
 Happily, however, the increasing power of the commercial 
 classes has obliged the aristocracy of England to reconsider their
 
 148 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 inimical proceedings towards the Union, and these literary attacks 
 have of late diminished in virulence, and at the time I am 
 recording they promise to cease altogether. The sagacity of the 
 aristocratic class displayed itself in this judicious change of con 
 duct; for they could not but see that they endangered their own 
 safety in jeopardizing the vast interests of the nation they aspire 
 to govern. Have they, in truth, yielded so entirely to the 
 suggestions of a calm wisdom, as utterly to abandon their jealous 
 fears of the American democracy, or have they only obeyed the 
 common dictates of prudence in disguising their outward expres 
 sion? This was an enigma I had not yet been able to solve. 
 Lord Palmerston declared freely the expediency of a pacific policy 
 towards the United States, and there his instructions ceased. 
 
 I pondered over this important point most anxiously, as well I 
 might, for a mistake, I felt aware, involved not merely the 
 termination of my connection with the British Government a 
 secondary consideration but it would infallibly destroy all my 
 hopes of achieving the great end I had in view. Did the 
 aristocratic Government of England honestly desire to lay the 
 basis of a real and permanent alliance with the United States ? 
 This was the weighty problem I had to work at and decide for 
 myself, for it was not a question that I could with diplomatic 
 propriety put to the noble Minister for Foreign Affairs. I felt no 
 disposition to evade the point, or shirk the responsibility attached 
 to it. If I threaded the labyrinth safely success would reward me, 
 but if I were lost in its mazes the cause would console me. 
 
 It was certainly a most satisfactory event to the friends of both 
 countries that the English aristocracy had determined, at length, 
 to give up an unprovoked system of detraction. It was a still 
 more conclusive act, that the leading Minister of the English
 
 A MISUNDEKSTAXDIN&. 149 
 
 Government had thought fit to require the aid of an humble 
 American like myself to deepen and strengthen the mutual 
 relations of Great Britain and the United States. But was it the 
 policy merely of the British Minister to preserve the semblance of 
 friendship, and to keep up an intercourse, softened by acts of 
 civility, but limited to considerations of interest ? Or, trampling 
 on traditional dislike, narrow prejudice, and groundless appre 
 hensions, was he acting on a deep conviction of the necessity of 
 lasting concord between the nations ? There was a way to test 
 this vital- question. If the British Government rightly under 
 stood their interests, and were inspired by no senseless jealousy of 
 American principles, not merely would they eschew an unwise 
 depreciation of the United States, but, more important still, they 
 would carefully abstain from raising obstacles to her growth, or 
 seek in any way to clog her prosperity. This was the touchstone 
 I meant to apply. 
 
 Not only by means of journalism, but by all the devious 
 windings of diplomacy, the successive Ministers of England had 
 for years steadily endeavoured to arrest the natural expansion of 
 the American Union. A policy more unjust or absurd than this it 
 was difficult to conceive. Unjust, because a nation fulfils its neces 
 sary mission in spreading the fruits of its superior civilization. 
 Unjust, because Great Britain has exemplified this truth in her 
 long career of conquest, which she has employed every means to 
 maintain and extend. Absurd, because in restricting the extension 
 of the United States they forbid the creation of additional markets 
 to swell their own revenues. Absurd, because in aiming to pre 
 vent what they could not defeat they succeeded only in rousing the 
 worst passions, and in braving the risk of eventual hostilities. 
 
 Had the English aristocracy lived to see the folly of this delu-
 
 150 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 sion, and had they the sagacity to abandon it, lite so many others 
 they once cherished ; was it reserved for Lord Palinerston the glory 
 and wisdom to stamp with his reprobation a policy so barren and 
 so pregnant with danger ? Could I doubt it ; for my employment 
 else would have been a mockery ? If, perchance, I had any mis 
 givings of this, yet, as a conscientious man, there was but one 
 course open to me. Loyalty to the cause I had espoused was not 
 circumscribed in my view to passively enforcing the policy of any 
 particular Minister. Such a position I never would have assumed ; 
 and I thought Lord Palmerston was displaying, not diplomatic 
 caution, but the large purposes he entertained in leaving me sole 
 arbiter of the best means to adopt. Regarding the reputation of 
 the Foreign Secretary as identified with the interests of his country, 
 and relying on his patriotism, I believed he would readily endorse 
 my views and plans when he saw them broadly tending to the 
 advantage of all. 
 
 It might happen, peradventure, that disinterested and compre 
 hensive as the plans of a great Statesman should ever be, and above 
 considerations of self or class, still, that Lord Palmerston, bent on 
 the welfare of the nation, might, even then, radically differ with me 
 on the conclusions I acted on; I feared rather than anticipated this. 
 Profound as was my respect for the experience and ability of his 
 Lordship, I felt confident of my superior knowledge of my own 
 country. No foreign Statesman has or ever will comprehend it, 
 so unlike its origin and influences to the standard they alone are 
 familiar with. Knowing from observation and study the character 
 and interests of the United States, I considered myself a better 
 judge, not only of the manner a pacific policy could be carried out, 
 but likewise of the way that the advantage of Great Britain might 
 be equally promoted and secured. Happily, I saw from the first
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 151 
 
 that the good of both were not merely compatible, but, to a great 
 degree, largely identified. I trusted to the sagacity of Lord Pal- 
 merston to perceive this, whilst I earnestly hoped that neither pre 
 judice of class or clique, or morbid jealousy of a growing Power, 
 would induce him to condemn the convictions I had arrived at. 
 
 Finally, I admit that I hesitated for a moment on the risk I 
 was needlessly running. A temperate support of the English 
 Government in the American Press, a cautious opposition to 
 American ideas, so far as they conflicted with the favourite dogmas 
 of the English world, would not have exposed me to any attack on 
 my patriotism, whilst they would have tended towards the " pacific 
 policy" Lord Palmerston had in view. Such easy labour as this 
 would have ensured all requirements, and sheltered my office and 
 salary from all the rude contingencies that might otherwise assail 
 them. I declare that it was not thoughtless temerity, nor undis 
 ciplined ambition, that carried me beyond this line, but simply the 
 honest hope, the anxious aspiration, to remove shallow causes of 
 difference, or substantial grounds of complaint, and to lay down in 
 their place, between Great Britain and the United States, the 
 foundations of a solid friendship and a durable alliance, not more 
 necessary to their mutual interests than conducive to the welfare of 
 mankind. 
 
 In November, '50, I began writing to the Press of the United 
 States, both north and south. In my correspondence I took some 
 pains to give impartial and careful expositions of English politics, 
 which in the United States are variously understood, from the con 
 flicting representations of party organs and biassed critics. Further 
 than this, I began to assert that both England and her Government 
 were fast outliving thebigotted views of their own interest, and the 
 selfish apprehensions of American progress that had ever charac-
 
 152 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 terized them. Aware of Lord Palmerston's unpopularity in the 
 United States, I endeavoured to impart more correct notions of his 
 character and dispositions. Honestly lauding his abilities, and 
 praising his zeal and activity in promoting the welfare of his country, 
 I sought to palliate his imperious tenacity, and somewhat pragmati 
 cal habits. However devoted to national interests, I endeavoured to 
 show he was not perversely hostile to those of other countries, and, 
 least of all, to those of the United States. I enlarged on this point 
 with some warmth, and maintained it against no small opposition. 
 
 Advancing beyond this, I made no scruple of saying that neither 
 Lord Palmerston nor the English Government felt either alarm or 
 annoyance at the growth of the Union, or the extension of her 
 territory that they felt no disposition to check the one or retard the 
 other that leaving it to the United States to consider what was due 
 to the rights of others, and to the preservation of its own character, 
 they were more disposed to encourage than deprecate legitimate 
 aggrandisement. I maintained that the favourite proclamation 
 of the "manifest destiny" of the Union by enthusiastic editors; or 
 the vague yearnings of energetic orators for the widening of the 
 "area of freedom," so far from inspiring dismay in England, only 
 enlivened the joyful anticipations of her manufacturers for new 
 markets and increased consumption, whilst her Government, sen 
 sible of the importance of this calculation, and mindful of its own 
 foreign policy, saw nothing to apprehend, and had no disposition to 
 interfere. 
 
 I avoided saying aught that could minister to a lust of con 
 quest, which, in fact, I knew did not exist in the United States, for 
 what with the moral scruples of some, and the political doubts of 
 others, any territorial additions to the Union by violent means 
 were likely to meet with more serious opposition at home than
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 153 
 
 abroad. This was novel information, indeed, to send to the 
 American Press, and was so utterly at variance with the known 
 policy of the British Government, and the settled convictions of 
 the American people, that it was received with surprise and in 
 credulity. These assurances, whether founded or not, were soon 
 known, on reflection, to be so consonant to reason and so clearly 
 in keeping with the interests of both countries, that they began to 
 work their way and find believers. I might cite as proofs of this 
 the efforts of two influential journals, one at the North, and the 
 other at the South, to know who was their anonymous corres 
 pondent, and if this was objectionable, to enter into negociations 
 for the permanent continuance of the correspondence. 
 
 No journal I addressed refused to insert these conciliating sen 
 timents, and I was even surprised to see the organs of the ultra 
 Democracy give them a prominent place in their columns. One 
 result, alike important and satisfactoiy, was achieved by this ex 
 periment, and that was to discover that no jealousy or dislike of 
 England has any deep root in the minds or hearts of their descend 
 ants beyond the Atlantic, and that it only requires the mother 
 country to adopt such a policy, political and commercial, as mani 
 festly harmonises with the sense and welfare of both countries, and is 
 congenial to the spirit of the age, for an alliance to spring up between 
 Great Britain and the United States that would redound not only to 
 their material prosperity, but offer a spectacle of moral grandeur 
 that would inspire the philanthropist, and bring forth such a har 
 vest of untold blessings as to cause the " morning stars to gather 
 together and sing for joy." 
 
 I refrained from troubling the Foreign Office with specimens ot 
 my American correspondence, as it was a subject that neither Lord 
 Palmerston nor Mr. Addington would give a written opinion on, so
 
 154 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 I laid it before my diplomatic counsellor, Mr. Edwardes, with whom 
 I always remained in connection. The tone and matter were both 
 no doubt very foreign to all his preconceived notions, and I hardly 
 expected a very cordial approval from him of ideas that to a man 
 of routine, and bred up in the old school of tradition, must have 
 seemed something like flat treason to British interests and British 
 supremacy. I was not disappointed in my anticipations, but I had 
 already given to my worthy coadjutor, with all Ins foregone con 
 clusions, such a series of violent shocks by my eccentric views and 
 unforeseen flights, that he submitted to this new infliction, if not 
 with resignation, at least with the grimness of utter despair. I 
 requested him to forward his opinions of the correspondence to 
 Lord Palmerston, and let me know the result. 
 
 It so happened that Mr. Crampton, British Minister at Washing 
 ton, was in Paris, en conge for a few days, whilst my letters to the 
 American Press were under the consideration of Mr. Edwardes, 
 who thought fit very sensibly to submit them to his inspection, as 
 I discovered one day on going into the Embassy, where I found 
 Mr. Crampton quietly perusing my new treatment of an old 
 subject. No man was better adapted, from his long residence in 
 the United States, as well as from his moderate character, to pro 
 nounce upon my speculations, though it might well happen that 
 from one cause or the other his conclusions were the reverse of 
 mine. At all events I was glad enough that my recent diplomatic 
 feat was not entirely at the mercy of Mr. Edwardes, who might 
 too precipitately censure it from unacquaintance with the subject. 
 A joint report would now be made to Lord Palmerston, and unless 
 both were mortal to me one might serve to neutralise the other. I 
 felt some concern for the upshot, as may be gathered from the re 
 flections already uttered, but it was not so much for the glory
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 155 
 
 of being instrumental, however humbly, in getting the British 
 Foreign Office at last on the right track in its American policy, 
 as, really, for the desire to see England and the Union no longer 
 drifting about on seas of prejudice, the sport of political jealousies 
 and official caprice. Mr. Crampton, whom I met, as just stated, 
 forebore any comment on what he had read, which I considered sus 
 picious, but it may only have been prudent. Mr. Edvvardes, for a 
 week or so ensuing, wore a manner that daily grew, as I thought, 
 in importance and reserve. He looked somewhat as I suppose a 
 Leyden jar must feel when suddenly charged with its electrical 
 contents, quite ready and willing to go off in an explosion at the 
 first touch. All this was ominous, and I began to think it high 
 lime to " set my house in order," lest I might be taken unawares. 
 Towards the close of February, '51, I received one morning a 
 note from my friend, Mr. Edwardes, who, though wrapped in a 
 thunder-cloud, still let a smile of sunshine fall on me at intervals. 
 He wrote, as always, in a friendly strain : 
 
 MY DEAR WIKOFF 
 
 If it is convenient to you, I should be very glad to see you 
 here (at the Embassy) this evening, as an idea has struck me. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 Monday. R. EDWARDES. 
 
 P.S. Should you come, pray let it be early. 
 
 There was nothing positively alarming in this. An idea may 
 strike one man without its knocking another down. I could very
 
 Ibt5 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 well comprehend the possibility of ray friend being suddenly 
 seized with a violent fit of conception, and his requiring the 
 presence of some familiar hand to relieve his mind, and get him 
 over his trouble. That he dreaded the inconvenience of being left 
 too long in solitary possession of " his idea" is evident from his 
 soliciting me to come " early." Was it, perhaps, something 
 delightful he had to impart, and yearned to make me happy ? Or 
 couid it be that, with the horrible eagerness of an executioner in a 
 hurry, he was anxious to despatch his victim without allowing him 
 the luxury of a last kick ? 
 
 I was ruminating lazily over this suggestive note, in all the 
 comfort of my morning gown after breakfast, and exhaling the 
 while the fragrant essence of a choice "regalia, when, an hour 
 having scarcely elapsed, a second missive in the same distinct 
 hand was brought in by my valet. It read thus : 
 
 MY DEAR WIKOFF 
 
 If you will have the goodness to look in upon me to-morroiv 
 instead of this evening, I should be very much obliged to you. I 
 beg your pardon, but I have a person with me who is about to start 
 for England, and I have to speak with him on business. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 Monday. E. EDWARDES. 
 
 Wherefore this sudden postponement? What had become of 
 the " idea ?" Had it evaporated, or submitted to bottling under 
 wire pressure ? But why were both it and me shuffled off so 
 strangely till to-morrow? Ominous word! I recited forthwith 
 Macbeth's touching soliloquy on " To-morrow," and found con-
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 157 
 
 sola! ion therein. Yet, disturbing thought, who could be the 
 " person," whose business was so pressing ? "Was it only some 
 diplomatic Hamlet, who cried " Ho ! for England?" or perchance 
 an amiable " Queen's Messenger," who was to be the bearer of 
 some confidential communication on the score of knick-knacks to be 
 brought over on his return ? 
 
 I lost myself again in a wholly new labyrinth of surmise, which 
 had finally to give way to more active occupation. Be the import 
 of the coming interview what it might, I felt myself quite adequate 
 to the event, and with the dauntless front of Byron when he 
 exclaimed, " here's a heart for any fate !" I felt myself fully pre 
 pared either to rise to higher functions, the possible reward of 
 loyal efforts, or to fall back again into the unofficial throng, where 
 the Foreign Office found me, unconscious of its mysteries, and 
 undazzled by its illusions and emoluments. 
 
 At the pleasant hour of twelve the following day, and enlivened 
 by a glorious sunshine, I took up my well-known line of march 
 for the British Embassy, where, gaily mounting the staircase that 
 led to the apartments of the Acting Secretary, I made my entrfa, 
 all radiant with smiles, and buoyant with expectation. That 
 estimable functionary, arrayed in all the splendour of a showy robe 
 de chambre, received me with an affability that left me the freest 
 option to infer anything most congenial to my excited fancy. 
 Lighting his cigarette with singular imperturbability, and then 
 politely pushing the box towards me, he sank gently back into his 
 capacious arm-chair, as though gathering himself up for the effort 
 he was about to make. He reminded me I say it not unkindly 
 of some diplomatic Dandini who was on the verge of imparting 
 "a secret most important" to a luckless Pompolino, who had 
 fallen unwarily into the toils of a practical joke. After giving me
 
 158 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 time to enjoy the aroma of the scented weed he whiffed, Mr. 
 Edwardes began : 
 
 " I have a bit of advice to give you, my dear fellow." 
 
 " Need I say how happy I shall be to receive it," was my reply, 
 in the blandest tone. 
 
 " Well, then, I think you had better resign." 
 
 Recovering my breath as well as I could after this murderous 
 blow, so gently administered, I exclaimed : 
 
 " Wherefore ?" 
 
 " Why, the Ministry at home, you see, is very ricketty." 
 
 " Well, what then ?" I enquired. 
 
 " Should Lord Palmerston go out of office, of course your ap 
 pointment ends." 
 
 " So be it," I continued, " but why resign before then ?" 
 
 A short pause ensued, which I employed in rapid cogitation. 
 
 " Depend on it," Mr. Edwardes resumed, " you had better 
 resign at once, and take a sum down than" 
 
 " Than what ?" I said, as he hesitated. 
 
 " Than risk getting nothing beyond what you have received." 
 
 My adviser then crossed his legs, and set about smoking in 
 earnest, as though relieved of the business he was charged withal, 
 and was deeply conscious he had nothing more to say. The " idea" 
 had exploded ; the secret was out, and it came with a plumptitude 
 that well nigh staggered me. Instead of being " Lord Chancellor, 
 already," I found myself worse off than the aspiring Pompolino just 
 quoted. There was no mistaking the motive of this friendly advice. 
 " Kesign" meant, in plain English, " you've gone and done for 
 yourself, so take a gratuity and get about your business." I recol 
 lected, however, that my connection with the Foreign Office was none 
 of my seeking. At Broadlands, as related, Lord Palmerston pro-
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 159 
 
 posed what only after some hesitation I had accepted. If his 
 bargain turned out a bad one it was no fault of mine. Dismissing 
 me in this summary way was hardly diplomatic or polite. I re 
 solved, therefore, on the instant, to put the Foreign Office to its 
 trumps, and to compel all parties, before I had done with it, from 
 its illustrious head down to its passive subordinate at Paris, to try 
 their skill with me in a regular diplomatic " set to," all Yankee as 
 I was, untutored and unannealed. Throwing the remnant of my 
 cigarette in the fire, and rousing myself from the short fit of re 
 flection I had indulged in, 1 renewed the conversation : 
 
 " Your suggestion, my dear Edwardes, is certainly well-timed, 
 but I don't see the least necessity for my acting on it." 
 
 " No !" he drawled out, rather puzzled. 
 
 " I should regret to see Lord Palmerston leave office," I con 
 tinued, " for the sake of the country ; but it is not right for any 
 one to abandon him at such a moment. No ; I prefer to risk my 
 salary a thousand times first, and will console myself with the 
 souvenir of the small services you have been good enough at times 
 to praise so highly." This was a thumper totally unlooked-for by 
 the Acting Secretary, who, no doubt, had the check in his pocket 
 which he thought would completely smooth over my prompt exodus 
 from the Foreign Office. 
 
 " Eh, what's that ? " he said, burning his fingers with his ci 
 garette, and sliding in and out of his chair, looking unutterably 
 nonplussed. 
 
 " What, you won't resign ? " 
 
 " Could you really expect me to be guilty of such a rat-like 
 proceeding?" 
 
 "But think, my dear fellow," said Mr. Edwardes, getting 
 keenly anxious about my future welfare, "if the Ministry goes 
 out, which, du reste, is certain, it is all over with you."
 
 160 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 " Alas, and alack-a-day ! " I sighed as I smiled. 
 
 " It's all nonsense," urged the excited Secretary, " to throw 
 away a sum in hand. Remember, if the Cabinet retires, Lord 
 Palmerston has no further control over the funds of the Foreign 
 Office." 
 
 " But his successor ha?," I remarked carelessly, looking up at 
 the ceiling. 
 
 " His successor ! " exclaimed Mr. Edwardes, getting rather per 
 plexed. *' What in the world have you to do with his successor ?" 
 
 " Do you forget," I asked, " that my engagement was made by 
 the year ? and I suppose it was done in good faith." 
 
 "But who could have anticipated this fall of the Ministry?" 
 
 " Why, I admit that such a contingency occurred to me, but as 
 neither Lord Palmerston nor Mr. Addington spoke of it, I concluded 
 iny engagement would survive it." From the rapid changes in 
 the Secretary's countenance I perceived that he was conscious of 
 drifting, like Wolsey, " far beyond his depth," and that he had 
 better hasten back to his starting point if he wished to escape the 
 dangers of the unknown sea that laid before him. 
 
 *' Then you won't resign ? " he demanded again. 
 
 " It would be a pusillanimous act," I replied disdainfully. 
 
 " And you refuse a sum down ? " 
 
 "Do you really think me so sordid?" I said reproachfully. 
 
 "Will you take another cigarette?" inquired poor Edwardes in 
 utter desperation. 
 
 " Anything to oblige you," and I helped myself. Seeing him 
 aux abois, as the French say (lost in the woods), I got up, and 
 saying I would drop in again in a day or two, I bid him good 
 morning. 
 
 There is no disguising that I felt both surprised and annoyed
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 161 
 
 at this abrupt and equivocal mode of putting an end to my con 
 nection with the Foreign Office. It has been seen that I never had 
 contemplated, much less sought a position not more novel than 
 embarrassing. I knew myself unprepared by experience, and was 
 doubtful of my capacity to fulfil the duties that might devolve 
 upon me; and my difficulties were tenfold increased by the strange 
 manner I was dealt with from the beginning. 
 
 The frank expression of my opinions on my first visit to Broad- 
 lands evidently met the approval of Lord Palmerston ; else why 
 did he propose my joining the Foreign Office ? I was then put to 
 the test of a written expression of them in fuller detail, which so 
 entirely concurred with his views that he transferred me to Mr. 
 Addington's hands to settle the minor point of salary. I expected 
 on this occasion some precise instructions from his Lordship or his 
 adjunct as to the specific functions I was to perform, but was 
 simply informed that I was to be employed in Paris ; and a letter 
 to the Marquis of Normanby, the British Ambassador there, was 
 offered to me. It was intended, perhaps, I should receive my in 
 structions from him ; but Mr. Edwardes, who had hitherto acted 
 on behalf of Lord Palmerston, declined to introduce me to him. 
 
 I was left, consequently, to the sole guidance of Mr. Edwardes, 
 from whom and I say it without any ill-will to him I failed to 
 receive either advice or assistance that could serve me in the least. 
 I saw him constantly, and had much conversation with him ; but I 
 found either that he was wholly ignorant of the duties I was expected 
 to perform, or that he was enjoined to leave me to my own inspira 
 tions. I went to work, then, as related, on my own account ; and I 
 leave my readers to judge whether my successful attempt to pacify 
 the hostility of the French Press against England, or my equally in 
 nocuous effort to sow the seeds of a fraternal alliance between the
 
 162 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 two branches of one family, England and the United States, were 
 not likely to do rather good than harm ; and that, independent of 
 my salary, whether I did not deserve something better than the 
 severe censure conveyed to me so unexpectedly in the request of 
 Mr. Edwardes for my resignation. 
 
 The pretext alleged of Lord Palmerston probably going out 
 with the Ministry was, I considered, a mere subterfuge, for I knew 
 it was not the habit of the Foreign Office to turn all its employes 
 adrift with the accession of every new Cabinet. It may have been 
 that Lord Palmerston felt some delicacy at transferring to his suc 
 cessor, amongst his diplomatic effects, such an unprecedented 
 novelty as a Yankee " chiel," that might be " takin' notes." Per 
 haps he may have become sensible of having done a rash thing in 
 letting into the Foreign Office, as stuffed full of mysteries as the 
 British Museum of curiosities, an American with his national habit 
 of " guessing," unnaturally stimulated by so piquant an atmos 
 phere. And, peradventure, I did not wholly waste my time ; and 
 were it consistent with my self-respect, I might, justified by the 
 provocation received, in lieu of the present volume, possibly give 
 to the lovers of the marvellous whole chapters of " guesses," that 
 would prove I was no bad hand in solving diplomatic riddles. 
 
 It may not have been the case ; but if the noble Foreign Secre 
 tary was alarmed at his own indiscretion, a rare fault in him, there 
 was only one course to be taken, due alike to the fact of the con 
 nection having been thrust on me, as to its having been made by 
 the year, and perhaps not less due to the services which had been 
 acknowledged, and that course was to summon me to London, 
 where Lord Palmerston or Mr. Addington might have deigned to 
 give me some sufficient reason for closing my engagement, with 
 such offer of compensation as the circumstances seemed to warrant.
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 163 
 
 I say compensation, not for the services spoken of, for they had 
 another motive than a mere pecuniary one, but for the sacrifice 
 made of other engagements when I agreed to accept that of the 
 Foreign Office. 
 
 In every case I felt that some consideration was due to me, and 
 the more so that I was painfully conscious that my secret connec 
 tion with the English Foreign Office might expose me to the stigma 
 of being regarded by my countrymen as a " British spy," should 
 it ever become public, and I not have the means, perhaps, con 
 sistent with my obligations, to make its true nature known. 
 
 Right or wrong, these were my reflections in dwelling upon the 
 incident that transpired in the apartment of Mr. Edwardes, and 
 which, though treated rather jocularly at the time, I was decided 
 to bring to a somewhat more serious denouement.
 
 164 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 As I have already described, the Monarchical parties of France 
 were heart and soul engaged in wrestling with the President for 
 the future possession of France. M. Thiers was bent on setting up 
 the Orleans dynasty again, with the Duchess of Orleans for Re 
 gent, and himself, disinterested man, for Prime Minister and King 
 de facto. M. Berryer was quite as anxious, from more chivalric 
 motives, to restore the old Bourbon sceptre to the nerveless grasp 
 of its last inheritor. These two factions were working in perfect 
 unison to undermine the President, hoping at an early day either 
 to consign him to the dungeons of Yincenues, or to send him off 
 with a carte llanche for foreign travel, according to circumstances. 
 As for the President, though sorely pressed by secret intrigues and 
 open resistance, distrustful of friends and beset by foes, he bore 
 himself calmly, though warily, confident in his resources, and 
 buoyed up by his resolution to protect the nation, as far as it was 
 in his power, against the league of reckless, desperate politicians 
 who were again ready, with parricidal hands, to rend her to pieces 
 in the eager thirst for the spolia optima, for power and its emolu 
 ments. 
 
 The admirable address of the President had succeeded thus far 
 in keeping the conspiring factions at bay ; but as the manoeuvrings 
 of Fontenoy were followed by the conflict, so it was equally sure 
 that interests so antagonistic as those represented by the Assembly
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 165 
 
 and the President must one day not far off measure their deadly 
 pretensions against each other. Meanwhile, the Republican party, 
 seeing their Monarchical rivals wholly absorbed in a struggle with 
 the President, thought the time a favourable one for making a 
 little political capital, by getting up a demonstration in behalf of 
 the destitute lower classes, whose manifold woes were an admirable 
 theme for eloquent tongues. 
 
 A debate on this really important topic broke out in the 
 Assembly the winter of '51, that I am speaking of; and after a 
 deal of asseveration and denial on both sides, several prominent 
 members of the Republican party, honestly solicitous 10 know the 
 truth, determined to make a pilgrimage to one of the largest 
 manufacturing towns of France, and investigate for themselves 
 the exact state of the case. 
 
 They did me the honour to invite me to join them, which I 
 most readily accepted, not only for the gratification of mingling in 
 their attractive society, but also to enjoy so excellent an oppor 
 tunity of getting a close inspection of the actual condition of the 
 operative poor of France. I knevr all these gentlemen well ; and 
 I dare say some outline of the simple incidents of our trip, as far 
 as I can recall them in the lapse of five years, as well as a careless 
 sketch of this remarkable group, who wore no disguise before me, 
 may be of interest to my readers. 
 
 The party consisted of the Prince Napoleon Bonaparte, cousin 
 of the President ; M. Emile de Girardin ; M. Blanqui, of the Insti 
 tute ; M. Victor Hugo, and Charles Hugo, his son ; all of them 
 members of the Assembly, save the latter, who presided over one 
 of the Republican organs of the day. They had selected the town 
 of Lille, some ninety miles north of Paris, for their investigations, 
 ihe exciting accounts that prevailed of the sufferings of the poor
 
 1G6 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 at that place, who were represented as living like rats in cellars 
 underground. 
 
 The day of our departure was fixed, and it was settled that we 
 should rendezvous at the Railway Depot, to take the evening train 
 at eight o'clock. I reached it only a minute before starting, and 
 should never have discovered my party but for the excessive good 
 nature of the Prince Napoleon, who was standing outside, at the door 
 of the carriage retained for us, on the look-out for me. We had only 
 four hours to reach our destination, and part of the time was spent 
 in sprightly conversation. Though intimate with each one of our 
 party, save M. Blanqui, and accustomed to their society, still I 
 was surprised and amazed at the change that came over them all 
 the moment we had got some few miles out of Paris. It seemed 
 as though they had left all the cares and responsibilities of their 
 several positions behind them, and in presence only of familiar 
 friends they threw aside as an encumbrance their conventional 
 demeanour, abandoning themselves to the unrestrained inspirations 
 of their natural dispositions. 
 
 I soon perceived that M. de Girardin was the gamin, the mis 
 chievous urchin, of the party, and he soon impregnated the rest 
 with his overflowing gaiety. The natural dignity of the Prince 
 melted away into joviality ; the thoughtful reserve of Victor Hugo 
 was lit up with smiles; whilst M. Blanqui, dismissing all the 
 gravity of the Institute, struggled in joke and repartee with the 
 arch-instigator of all the fun. I had seen a great deal of M. de 
 Girardin before this, and had grown equally accustomed to his 
 severe and abrupt manner when iu editorial harness, with his 
 mind in full action, as well as to the easy and degage humour 
 habitual to him in society. This new phase, however, was totally 
 unexpected, and reminded me of Eraelia's line in the play. " It is 
 not in a year and a day that we know a man .'"
 
 A THIP TO LILLE. 167 
 
 It was deeply interesting to me, an amateur psychologist of the 
 first water, to watch the sportive gyrations of the master-intellects 
 about me. It was not so much a spectacle of intellectual athletae 
 pitting their wit against each other as of so many playful elephants 
 indulging in gambols out of pure wantonness. There is to me 
 something exceedingly refreshing in the sight of distinguished men 
 unbuttoning the jerkin of their dignity, so to speak, and bending 
 down to the level of ordinary humanity. 
 
 In the United States or England you can never see this 
 thoroughly, done. A renowned Yankee, or an illustrious John. 
 Bull, never descends from bis stilts, but under protest, as it were. 
 All their struggles after the playful and facetious smack of awkward 
 ness and affectation, ludicrously reminding one of a giraffe's 
 attempts at grace. Tour Frenchman, now, of whatever grade, 
 slides as easily and naturally from the grave to the gay as an ex 
 pert vocalist from the upper to the lower register of his voice, and 
 seems quite at home in both moods, for he never seeks, like the 
 aforesaid, to mix up dignity with frivolity ; and for this reason a 
 Frenchman never appears absurd when, in common parlance, he is 
 playing the fool. However, all this comes of different customs, 
 climates, and what not, and there is no use, therefore, railing at 
 the one whilst enjoying the other. 
 
 The exuberance of our party at last gave way to fatigue, and 
 by the time we reached Lille each one of us seemed trying hard to 
 rub a hole through the cushion his head reposed on, under the 
 oscillating effect of the railway. In plain English, we were all 
 buried in sleep. 
 
 It was between midnight and one o'clock in the morning that we 
 found ourselves wandering about the streets of Lille in search of the 
 kading hotel of the town, for we could discover no guide at the
 
 168 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 station to assist us. There was something impressive in the stillness 
 that overspread this busy hive of industry. The hum of labor was 
 hushed. Neither creak of machinery, nor the clatter of looms, broke 
 upon the silence of night. The operative, whether in cellar or garret,, 
 rested from toil, and his deep repose might have been envied by 
 many a Sybarite who tossed sleepless to and fro on his luxurious 
 couch. Our search was successful, and after rousing the drowsy 
 porter we made good our entree into the Grand Hotel de Lille. 
 
 The fresh air of the night had stimulated appetite, and there was 
 a general cry for poulct froid and whatever accompaniment that was 
 handy. To our chagrin we had to content ourselves with two or 
 three bottles of Bordeaux ordinaire, and some bread and cheese, 
 for the Cerberus of the larder had long since vanished into some 
 remote garret, where discovery was hopeless. I had little doubt 
 that if some of the names of our party had been sounded the 
 alarum would soon have spread, and Boniface would have turned 
 out in all haste at the head of his white-aproned battalion. But 
 to the sulky porter, aroused from his first sleep, was reserved the 
 exclusive honour of supplying, with very small portions of bread 
 and cheese, the cousin of the President, the first litterateur, and the 
 first publicist of France, to say nothing of the distinguished repre 
 sentative of the Institute. Our hunger made our modest fare very 
 acceptable, and M. de Girardin presided, with his usual impartiality, 
 over the exact distribution of our limited supply. 
 
 Bedrooms were the next object of our solicitude, but an active 
 search by our awakened janitor only brought four to light, of which 
 one was assigned to the Institute, the other to La Presse, the third 
 to the French Academy and son, whilst the Prince was good 
 enough to share the fourth, a commodious double-bedded room, 
 with me. In the thirst for adventure that carried Cook around the
 
 A TKIP TO LILLE. 169 
 
 world, I made the tour of my quarters of the night, and after na 
 vigating my way through various closets and garde-robes, I lit upon 
 a door in the wall, which, opening cautiously, I found led to an 
 elegant salon, unoccupied, a grate all arranged for lighting, and 
 candelabras stocked with bougies. I announced my prize with all 
 the pride of an explorer, and proposed ordering up what was left 
 of our Bordeaux, and carrying on our chat. But the " Acade 
 micians," as the Prince styled the elders of our party, decided to 
 go to bed, whilst the Prince, young Hugo, and myself, sat down by 
 the comfortable fire, and discussed for an hour or so the future 
 destinies of mankind. 
 
 The next morning, at eight, M. de Girardin came dancing into 
 the Prince's room as chirping and merry as the night before, and 
 reminded him that he had a hard day's work to do, for it was 
 settled that we should return to Paris late that night, as the 
 daily debates in the Assembly were important. 
 
 " Hafoi" I said, startled from a sound sleep, " I thought the 
 coup d'etat had broken out at Lille by mistake." I alluded to the 
 accusation made every day against the President in the Assembly, 
 and journals of Paris. 
 
 " I hope," said M. de Girardin, nibbing his hands at the 
 prospect, " such an event as that will not catch the Prince in bed." 
 
 " Don't you think," I asked, " that would be the best place for 
 him. You wouldn't have him oppose his cousin making him heir 
 to the throne, whilst as a republkain lionmte he could not assist at 
 such a transformation." 
 
 " Bravo," cried the Prince, springing lightly from his bed, 
 " voila, a dilemma for you to extricate me from, mon clier de Girar 
 din, whilst I am making my toilette." 
 
 Before nine o'clock we were all assembled at breakfast. By
 
 170 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 this time the landlord had discovered his illustrious guests, and 
 his attentions were unbounded. By ten we all sallied out, fur 
 nished with the names of the streets and lanes chiefly occupied by 
 the pauper population, for to avoid being known the Prince and 
 his distinguished friends desired not to take a guide who might let 
 their names transpire. We were all provided with memorandum 
 books and pencils, to note down the worst cases of destitution we 
 should encounter ; and without knowing what might have been the 
 feelings of the Prince and M. Victor Hugo, I felt sure that the 
 best polemist of the day, M. de Girardin, was quietly anticipating 
 some splendid cases of misery that he might bring to bear with all 
 the power of his pen against the Monarchical party he was then fu 
 riously belaying. 
 
 M. Blanqui was a stout Conservative, and voted with the Majority, 
 and he jocosely told M. de Girardin that he would watch him close. 
 A half-hour's walk brought us to the part of the town we were in 
 quest of, and our party lost no time in diving curiously into the 
 numberless recesses where poverty had fled for shelter. Apologizing, 
 with that easy politeness so entirely French, for the friendly intrusion 
 into their humble homes, the Prince and his friends began enquiring 
 of these hapless creatures the details of their condition. We 
 mounted from room to room to the garrets, and thence descended 
 into those cellars which had been the theme of mysterious allusions 
 in the Assembly and the Press, where it was intimated that misery 
 in its most hideous aspect reared its ghastly eyeballs in silent 
 rebuke of the Government and society that tolerated it. We had 
 been an hour hard at it without coming across such a case of ap 
 palling destitution as to set the recording pencils a-going. 
 
 We found lots of old men and old women, and young women 
 with children huddled together in pretty close quarters, but the 

 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 171 
 
 rooms were not dirty, and were well enough lighted and ventilated , 
 The occupants were decently clothed, and clean often to neatness. 
 They looked healthy, and with the buoyancy of the French in every 
 condition, were lively and chatty. The cellars under ground were 
 comfortable enough, generally floored over, and accessible to light 
 and air, quite as much so as the area-rooms of London houses. 
 They were warmed by stoves, and supplied with sufficient furni 
 ture a good bed always holding a prominent place. 
 
 ** But where do the poorest amongst you live ?" was more than 
 once demanded ; and some tattered ciceroni, expecting a franc for 
 his trouble, would lead us into more houses and cellars, fac similes 
 of those we had left. Occasionally we met touching cases of 
 hardship, where sickness or death had lent its terrible aggrava 
 tion; but nowhere did we find those spectacles of revolting 
 wretchedness that made the heart sick with horror. 
 
 All had food, however scanty; but the culinary skill of the 
 French never deserts them, and more than once I tasted the 
 bouillon on the fire, and found it highly palatable. After visiting 
 many of the famous caves sous terre (cellars underground), I 
 remember exclaiming that I would prefer a residence in any one of 
 them, a hundred times over, to the apartment of Prince Louis, in the 
 dreary citadel of Ham, and I little dreamt at the time that I was 
 destined ere the year was out to occupy something far less in 
 habitable. 
 
 " Eh bien" said the Prince to me frequently, as well as his 
 brother members, " what do you think of this ?" for coming as T 
 did from a new country, said to be without poor, they were 
 naturally curious to know how I was impressed with what I 
 had seen. 
 
 " Frankly, gentlemen," I replied, " my mind is greatly relieved j
 
 172 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 for instead of the rosy-cheeked and merry-hearted paupers, for the 
 most part, that I have been passing with you in review this 
 morning, I expected something far different and worse. If this 
 is an average sample of your poor population, I thank Heaven that 
 France is so well off; and, believe me, if you were to inspect the 
 manufacturing towns of England, or to enter the abodes of the 
 emigrant class at New York, you would find a strata of humanity 
 in every point of view lower and more pitiable." 
 
 I should not forget to mention other peculiarities that, in fact, 
 belong rather to the national character. These poor people were not 
 merely lively in temper, but naturally intelligent, and their 
 deameanour was easy without vulgarity, and polite without ser 
 vility. Even before '89, the French lower classes were never so 
 coarse and brutal as in other countries, which in some degree 
 arose from the pleasant terms of familiarity on which the upper 
 classes always mixed with them. As no provision is made by law 
 for the poor in France, they are compelled to support themselves 
 by labour, but where age or sickness incapacitate them, as was 
 the case with some that we visited during our rounds, charity 
 steps forth to their relief, which is usually administered with 
 discrimination by the parish priest. Our visit was a God-send to 
 some afflicted souls, for in every instance of this sort, the commi 
 seration of the Prince and his friends was exhibited in positive 
 proofs ; and, doubtless, if it had been known from what illustrious 
 hands the gift had descended, it would have been still more 
 highly appreciated. 
 
 In the history of Lille this was probably the first time that 
 such unwelcome haunts as these had ever been explored by a 
 Prince of the blood and some of the leading men of France ; and 
 the motives that inspired them, though not free from political
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 173 
 
 alloy, yet did honour to humanity. The results of our investi 
 gation were all in favour of M. Blanqui, who made merry at 
 the misconceptions of his Republican confreres, who had honestly 
 believed the case much worse. The memorandum bocks had 
 been but little in request, and neither the Tribune nor La Presse 
 were likely to electrify the community with startling details of 
 destitution, that would have lost none of their repulsive interest iu 
 the tones of thunder that would have made them known. 
 
 As far as political objects went, the trip to Lille was a failure, 
 and the Majority and the Government had a happy escape of it ; but 
 it pleased me to discern in the physiognomies of the Prince and his 
 friends, not the blank disappointment of politicians who had missed 
 an " effect," but such symptoms of honest satisfaction as patriots 
 and good men would naturally feel to find any class of their fellow- 
 men less unfortunate than expected. Before we had completed 
 our tour the rumour that our party contained some Jiaut personnayes 
 began to spread, and a crowd commenced, in consequence, to accu 
 mulate. The marvellous likeness of the Prince to his uncle, the Em 
 peror, attracted every eye, arid the possibility of a Bonaparte being 
 amongst them was getting up a commotion from cellar to garret 
 that threatened an enthusiastic explosion, but which the Prince and 
 his party thought it best to retreat from, and so all haste was made 
 back to our hotel. 
 
 The news of such remarkable men being, even, in incognito at 
 Lille was not likely to remain long a secret, and it had already 
 
 reached the ears of the celebrated manufacturers, Messrs. S , 
 
 who were waiting at our hotel to invite the Prince and 
 party to visit their extensive premises, the resort of all strangers 
 passing through. The invitation was readily accepted, and a 
 couple of hours were soon spent in the inspection of the varied 
 details of this mammoth establishment.
 
 17-i A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 It would require too much space to dwell on this point, but 
 what struck me more than the machinery, which was equal in all 
 respects to anything I had seen in England or the United States, 
 was the healthy and decent appearance of the operatives. Messrs. 
 
 S have earned a just distinction by the care they have 
 
 given to the moral, as well as the bodily, health of their 
 workmen, numbering some hundreds ; and amongst the not least 
 interesting features of their vast fabrique are school-rooms, where 
 the instruction is gratuitous, and well-constructed bath-houses. 
 These humane attentions to the comfort and improvement of their 
 men are abundantly rewarded by the perfect order and regularity 
 that distinguish this model enterprise. 
 
 Before leaving, the Prince and party inscribed their names on 
 
 the book of visitors, at the request of Messrs. S , who, turning 
 
 over a few pages, pointed out the names of Louis Philippe and all 
 his family, who, only four years preceding, had done this noble 
 establishment the honour of a royal visit. What a commentary 
 was conveyed in this close conjunction of such names as Bourbon 
 
 and Bonaparte ! The Messrs. S were invited by the Prince to 
 
 join us at dinner, which turned out a downright feast of Sarda- 
 napalus. Our landlord, out of respect to his guests, as well as 
 to make amends for his shortcomings of the previous night, set his 
 latterie de cuisine in full motion, and certainly acquitted himself 
 & ravir. 
 
 But I shall remember this sumptuous repast for other reasons. 
 
 The Messrs. S were highly-intelligent men, and Conservative 
 
 in their politics, as capitalists with such vast responsibilities would 
 naturally be in times of disorder sunh as then prevailed. They found 
 an adherent in M. Blanqui. M. de Girardin and the Viscount Victor 
 Hugo were known as ardent Eepublicans and something more.
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 175 
 
 The Prince Napoleon leant decidedly to popular doctrines, but was 
 not an ultra. Such materials as these, brought into close contact 
 under the influence of a good dinner, were not likely to remain 
 long dormant. The conversation at first turned upon industrial 
 
 topics, which the Messrs. S treated with great ability, but by 
 
 degrees it veered towards the delicate ground of politics. 
 
 M. de Girardin, in the same spirit of mirthful provocation as 
 the night before, indulged in a series of playful sallies at the 
 expense of the " Majority," but M. Blanqui showed no alacrity in 
 taking up .the cudgels for his side of the Assembly. At last, the 
 Prince, by way of seconding his aggressive friend, opened a direct 
 attack on the cautious member of the Institute. 
 
 "Maisquave'z vous a dire?" (but what have you to say for 
 yourself?) demanded the Prince, and he followed up his question 
 by a spirited but pleasant sally of several minutes. 
 
 This forced M. Blanqui into the field, whose information was 
 immense, and facility of elocution remarkable. He made a vi 
 gorous but amusing onslaught on the Republican party, taking 
 care to point his heaviest guns at those zealots, ces rouges, of the 
 Press and the Assembly, " whose fiery apostrophes," he remarked, 
 " only meant for political effect, might light up a conflagration 
 that would not only consume them, pas un grand mal (no great 
 harm), but burn out everybody else." This applied specially to 
 M. de Girardin, who laughed as heartily as the rest of us, and to 
 M. Victor Hugo. 
 
 I kept my eye on the latter, who smiled occasionally, but it was 
 like the gleam from the thunder-cloud. M. Hugo, unlike most 
 Frenchmen, seems to have no penchant for talking. His mind is 
 of the meditative cast, and he ordinarily expresses himself in short, 
 quiet phrases, replete with force and point. His nature is inclined
 
 176 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 to slumber, but it is the repose of the lion, and when aroused to 
 aggression his strength is something fearful. The admirable hits 
 of M. Blanqui served to stimulate him, and that vis inertia, which 
 is a trait of powerful minds, that seem, to shrink from their own 
 action, gradually gave way. 
 
 Stretching himself up to his full height, he began in his slow, 
 measured way to reply to M. Blanqui, till by degrees the flood 
 gates of his eloquence burst open, and he dazzled us all by a pyro 
 technic display of those brilliant declamatory periods now flashing 
 with satire, then almost hissing with bitterness, which give 
 a cachet to his oratory, and deeply impress his hearers. Inten 
 sity is the feature of M. Hugo's character; it is the poetical 
 element. Poeta nascitur non fit. Whatever his opinions he 
 believes in them ardently, and they come from his lips almost 
 sparkling with the heat of the furnace they have passed through. 
 Though he converted none of us to his views, we believed him 
 sincere in his faith. 
 
 This unexpected rehearsal of a " scene" at the Assembly, minus 
 
 its disorder, must have been a treat for the Messrs. S , who 
 
 rarely got to Paris, and they seemed to enjoy it vastly. Our 
 dinner broke up rather late, and our party returned to Paris the 
 same night in as high spirits as they left. 
 
 It is needless to say that no mention was ever made in the 
 Assembly or out of it of this "Republican foray into the quiet lanes 
 and alleys of unsuspecting Lille, or of the "plentiful lack" of 
 political ammunition found there. This pleasant excursion for all 
 the parties concerned has hitherto gone without a chronicler, but its 
 simple incidents may be read with interest by some, identified as 
 they are with such remarkable persons, and illustrating as they do 
 the state of things in '51.
 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 1/7 
 
 It is singular, indeed, to contemplate the strange fate that in so 
 short an interval overtook every one of the small group I have just 
 cited. The Prince Napoleon, then cousin of the President, and 
 one of the leaders of the " Left," is long since cousin of the 
 Emperor, and in close proximity to the throne. 
 
 Emile de Girardin, then a fierce polemist, dashing and foaming 
 through the columns of the Presse like a mountain torrent, has 
 laid down his jaded pen, and turned his mind to more practical 
 purposes. He may have lost something in personal importance, 
 but his country will gain by the energy, then running waste, being 
 turned into a more profitable channel. 
 
 Victor Hugo, then, one of the Chiefs of the Republican party, 
 before the year was out had abandoned France. He has per 
 sisted since in his voluntary exile, giving ever and anon a bitter 
 utterance to his stricken hopes in a fierce tirade against a Prince 
 who not only protected France from anarchy, but who as surely 
 saved his head from the guillotine. For I remember well the remark 
 of M. Hugo to myself and others one evening at his house the winter 
 of '51. " People often come to me," he said, " in alarm at the 
 chance of disorder breaking out, and they implore me to protect their 
 lives and property if anarchy should get the upper hand. But I 
 tell these good people to despair of aid from me, for in the whirl 
 wind I am as likely to perish as the rest." His tone was solemn 
 like that of a man who foresaw his doom. It was inevitable, for 
 had civil war broken out in France in '52, which the coup d'etat 
 alone prevented, not a single party leader, Republican or Monarchi 
 cal, would have escaped the fury of the people. 
 
 Girardin saw this as well as Hugo, for he remarked to me one 
 day, that " before the year is out I don't know where the waves of
 
 178 A TRIP TO LILLE. 
 
 revolution may cany me. Perhaps I may leap on a plank of safety, 
 and go over to your country." 
 
 " Take care," I replied with a shake of the head, " that you do 
 not come first in contact with the plank of the guillotine." 
 
 " Mafoi," he said, smiling, " c'est lien possible" 
 
 What can better demonstrate than this the vertigo that had 
 seized the French politicians in '51 ? for here they were not only 
 exposing their country to ruin, but risking their heads to gratify 
 their lust for power and their hatred for rivals. 
 
 How strange that in the silence of exile the reason of Victor 
 Hugo has not risen above the virulence of party, and that with 
 the vindictiveness of the Parthian, he should still launch his en 
 venomed arrows against the invulnerable front of the Prince, in 
 whose skilful hands eight millions of his countrymen have de 
 posited the sovereign power. How nobler far, how more worthy 
 his character, his fame, his memory, that shaking off henceforth 
 the vulgar associations of party, and soaring again into those lofty 
 regions of literature, where he has left such memorable trophies of 
 his power, he should, to the glory of France and his own honor, 
 dedicate his genius to the creation of some other imperishable 
 monument, that would add a new laurel to the graceful chaplet that 
 decks his brow, more lasting than the gaudy halo that crowns 
 political triumphs. If insensible to the magnanimity of Napoleon 
 III., if deaf to the entreaties of family and the appeal of friends, 
 will he, dares he to resist the mute expectation of France that would 
 listen again to the melodious accents of his neglected lyre, and 
 would respond once more with delight to the new and thrilling 
 manifestations of an intellect, as versatile as it is grand. 
 
 Of the rest of our little party, Charles Hugo, with the perti 
 nacity of his father, clings to exile. M. Blanqui, alas, is since 

 
 A TRIP TO LILLE. 179 
 
 dead. As for my humble self, I, like the rest, have had my share 
 of vicissitude, and, nolens vnlens, was made to suffer the rigors of 
 fifteen months imprisonment at Genoa, through the active instru 
 mentality of two officials of Her Britanic Majesty's Government, 
 Messrs. James Hudson and Timothy Brown, of unpleasant 
 memory.
 
 180 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 The English Cabinet, of which Lord Palmerston was the Minis 
 ter of Foreign Affairs, did not resign after all, as Mr. Edwardes 
 had predicted. There were, certainly, rumours to that effect, and 
 such an intention may have been entertained, but Cabinet Minis 
 ters in England, as elsewhere, have a relish for place and emolu 
 ment, which they are in no hurry to sacrifice if it can be avoided. 
 I kept up my visits as usual to the British Embassy, and asked 
 Mr. Edwardes one day if he did not approve of my sensible con 
 duct in declining to act on his suggestion of resigning on the 
 ground he had alleged, and which had turned out utterly fallacious. 
 
 " Well, I was quite sure," he replied, " that the Cabinet would 
 go out." 
 
 "But if I had resigned for no other reason, as you proposed, 
 would not Lord Palmerston have blamed me for a precipitate 
 step ? " 
 
 " Jleally I cannot say," he returned, and he showed symptoms 
 of wishing to change the conversation. 
 
 " But do you still advise my resignation, on any other grounds ?" 
 I continued. 
 
 " No, no, I have nothing further to say about it," he answered 
 in an embarrassed manner. " When you go over to London you 
 will see Mr. Addiugton and discuss that point with him."
 
 A REPRIEVE. 18*. 
 
 " You are right, there," I said, " he is the propev person to cou- 
 sult on that matter." The subject then dropped, and Mr. Edwardes 
 never alluded to it in any way afterwards. 
 
 I was sometimes at a loss .how to view this singular incident. 
 Could it be possible that the acting Secretary, from some motive 
 of pique or other, had ventured on a stroke of diplomatic finesse 
 to get me out of his way? If I had indiscreetly acted on his 
 advice, and sent in through him my resignation for the reason he 
 had advanced, no explanation might ever have followed, and Lord 
 Palmerston would only have inferred that I was tired of my 
 situation. On mature reflection, however, I dismissed this suppo 
 sition, for it is hardly likely that Mr. Edwardes would have risked all 
 the consequences of such a gratuitous and daring act. For him to 
 suppose that at a word, or a hint, I would, without provocation or 
 cause of dissatisfaction, throw up my situation, was absurd. 
 Besides, he had spoken of a " sum of money down," which he 
 could not have presumed to offer if he had not had authority to 
 do so. It was plain, therefore, as deduction could make it, that 
 it was an ill-considered attempt of the Foreign Office to get rid of 
 me by a side-wind. 
 
 If this should turn out to be the case, I was obliged to conclude 
 that my mode of seeking to establish a permanent alliance between 
 England and the United States had not been approved of by Lord 
 Palmerston, for I remembered that my efforts towards disarming 
 the hostility of the French Press against England, her government, 
 and institutions, were at the time highly praised, and marvelled at. 
 Neither the British Embassy at Paris, nor any of those pensioned 
 Diplomatists that make this gay capital their frequent place of abode, 
 had ever essayed, much less accomplished, so desirable an end for 
 the interests of both countries. 'If it was proposed to terminate
 
 182 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 my connection with the Foreign Office on this ground, I should 
 rejoice at my downfall with all the fervour of a martyr, for my 
 faith was profound that it was only in the mode I had initiated 
 viz., an abstinence from all intrigues against the United States, 
 that perfect concord could be inaugurated between the two nations 
 who stood in such earnest need of each other. 
 
 I felt as sure as that the sun would continue to shine that the 
 day would come, and that before long, when aristocratic prejudice 
 or mistaken views of British interests would give way to more 
 correct and enlightened convictions, and that the policy of England, 
 instead of thwarting the developement of the United States by 
 occult intrigues, or open combinations with other Powers, would 
 more wisely seek to profit by the immense advantages that must 
 result from their inevitable growth and extension. 
 
 It was as plain as an axiom that the interest of England, poli 
 tical and commercial, was to conciliate and strengthen the United 
 States ; and it was certain that if her Oligarchy did not discover 
 this in time, the clear sense of the middle classes would require 
 them to give up the helm of State to wiser hands. I was deeply 
 convinced, therefore, that I had acted a loyal part towards England 
 and her Foreign Minister, when in my correspondence, and by 
 other means, not less effective, I had urged this new plan of con 
 duct towards the United States. 
 
 I never doubted at the time that Lord Palmerston's anxious 
 object was to approach closer than ever before to the United States, 
 for England was in danger of a league of Despots, who considered 
 her free Press a standing cause of disorder in Europe. Lord Pal- 
 merston himself was denounced as a " firebrand " in every Court 
 of the Continent; and, uncertain as was the direction France 
 would take, it was, I conceived, a judicious policy in his Lordship
 
 A REPRIEVE. 183 
 
 to tighten the bonds of amity with the Union, which would not 
 have hesitated, by a spontaneous burst of feeling, to lend her co 
 operation to rescuing the liberties of the world, had the armies of 
 Europe sailed towards England. I was really surprised, therefore, 
 under all the circumstances, that I had given offence to the noble 
 Foreign Secretary by advocating a policy so many motives com 
 bined to recommend. 
 
 It may be supposed, after the event I have related, that my 
 position was anything but pleasant. Led to suspect that I had 
 forfeited the confidence of Lord Palmerston, and that my services, 
 however zealous, were no longer acceptable, I felt anxious either to 
 lay down the trust I had conscientiously performed, or to receive 
 such explanations as would enable me honourably to retain it. In 
 compliance with Mr. Edwardes' intimation, I decided to let the 
 matter lie over till I went to London in April to draw my quarter's 
 salary, when I doubted not that Mr. Addington would be ready 
 with adequate reasons to justify the abrupt close of my engagement. 
 
 Meanwhile I went on with my functions as usual, keeping my 
 gaze, however, earnestly bent on every-day's indications of a por 
 tentous crisis in the affairs of France. Any chance of conciliation 
 between the Monarchical or Republican parties and the President 
 was out of the question. Their aim was the sovereign power which 
 he wielded, but what his purpose was, whether he meant to retain 
 it by force, or to leave them to seize it at their pleasure, was the 
 absorbing enigma of the epoch. Suspicion and apprehension took 
 every shape of accusation, and both the Press and the Assembly 
 echoed to loud assertions that the President was organizing a coup 
 d'etat, a violent usurpation of absolute power. Every species of 
 intrigue, every form of provocation, was employed to extract his 
 secret, to get even a clue to his unfathomable designs.
 
 184 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 It was all in vain. In public and private he wore the same im 
 perturbable front, he preserved the same moderation of language, 
 and continued to turn the same serene smile of indifference alike 
 on seductions or covert treachery. In spite of the meagre allow 
 ance accorded by the Assembly, he managed to keep up his re 
 ceptions at the Elysee, and the gay world flocked in crowds to 
 share his hospitalty. I remarked that officers of all grades of the 
 Army thronged to the Palace on these occasions, and I thought 
 there was a lurking something in the expression they wore that 
 indicated not only devotion to the President, but a fixed purpose to 
 sustain him against any foul play or insidious machinations that 
 might be attempted. The Assembly had fallen in the estimation 
 of all classes in France, but their inconsiderate comments on the 
 reviews of Satory gave, as I mentioned, serious offence to the 
 whole Army. 
 
 At all these fetes the President mingled freely with his guests, 
 and partook gaily in the diversions of the hour. To the surprise 
 of many he did not scruple even to dance when the whim took 
 him, and this was railed at by the grey-beards of the Assembly as 
 a frivolity inconsistent with his high position. 
 
 Ce n'est' pas un komme serieux (he is not a man of sense) they 
 never ceased to declare and to believe, but whether the President 
 really sought to mislead them and to disguise his profound inten 
 tions under a mask of assumed gaiety, or whether he merely in 
 dulged a passing and not undignified caprice, it were difficult to 
 pronounce. 
 
 One of the singular and original features of this extraordinary 
 man's character is a species of moral hardihood, which has always 
 made him dare to do what his judgment or taste considered un 
 objectionable. No exaggerated notions of his rank prevented him
 
 A REPRIEVE. 185 
 
 ever from taking part in ordinary recreations, or seeking such 
 amusements as other men find palatable. For this reason he excels 
 in all light and graceful accomplishments, and in riding, or driving, 
 fencing, or waltzing, or even skating, he has few competitors. 
 It is not unusual, certainly, that a Prince should so employ his 
 leisure, but that a man of such superior intellect, and of so grave 
 and thoughtful a character, should find enjoyment in pastimes 
 generally considered the prerogative of common men, seems, ap 
 parently, strange and inconsistent. 
 
 In reality it is not so, for the severest personages that history 
 records have in secret disported themselves in a manner they 
 would have openly shrunk to avow. The grim Kichelieu had his 
 hours of abandon ; whilst the stern Cromwell's favorite relaxation 
 was, on finishing his dinner, to roll up his napkin and throw it at 
 the head of one of his familiars, which was the signal for a general 
 volley all round. As earnest as Kichelieu, and as unimpassioned 
 as Cromwell, the Prince Louis could never have descended to vice 
 or buffoonery, which his taste and dignity both forbade. His 
 peculiarity has been in resisting that conventional affectation that 
 is thought necessary to high rank, and in calmly daring to follow 
 the bent of his disposition, regardless of the comments of the world 
 of gossip. 
 
 I. remember an instance of this in London, '47. I heard it 
 remarked on more than one occasion, at that time, by certain 
 titled friends of the Prince Louis, that he was much in the habit 
 of frequenting the country house of a very estimable gentleman, 
 but not muoh known in the fashionable world. It was thought 
 by his haughty friends somewhat derogatory to a Prince of his 
 high pretensions, that he should bestow his society familiarly on 
 individuals, however respectable, yet too far below him in tb.6
 
 186 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 social hierarchy. Presuming on his good nature, and my long 
 acquaintance, I ventured one day to repeat the observations I had 
 heard. 
 
 , "Vraiment" said the Prince, with a pleasant smile of incredulity. 
 " They say nothing against the respectability of Sir ?" 
 
 " Oh, not a word," I returned. " Simply that it is not just 
 the sort of place your Highness should habitually visit." 
 
 " I should be sorry to shock the parties you allude to," observed 
 
 the Prince, "but, really, I see no alternative. Sir and 
 
 family are very amiable, and nothing can exceed their civility to 
 me. I cannot see any good reason why I should deprive myself 
 of the pleasure of going to their house." 
 
 This was the honest expression of his mind, which ignored 
 with suppressed disdain such trivial guides to conduct as were 
 only to be found in the prejudices of rank. 
 
 What he was in exile he remained in the splendour of his new 
 position, and as President of the Kepublic he passed along through 
 the brilliant saloons of the Elysee, easy, unaffected, composed, 
 kindly addressing old friends, and smiling affably on new. 
 
 There was one attraction the less at the receptions of the Presi 
 dent in the Spring of '51, and that was the "graced persons " 
 of the leaders of the Monarchical parties, Thiers, Mole, Berryer, 
 Montalembert, et idfmmeJgenuh'whQ fondly fancied some two years 
 before that they were the real masters of the Palace, where their 
 puppet played the empty role of presiding over its festivities. 
 The Republican Chiefs had never from the outset frequented the 
 Elysee in any number, and it arose, doubtless, from the active part 
 taken against the President's election, which had ended in so 
 disastrous a defeat for themselves. 
 
 At the period in question, March, '51, all parties and all men
 
 A REPBIEVE. 187 
 
 were plunged in a Serbonian bog of doubt and perplexity. Be 
 yond the close of the Presidential term, May, '52, nothing could 
 be discerned. The future spread out like a vast and blank expanse, 
 darkened by thick and threatening shadows, but without one dis 
 tinct or fixed object to arrest the mind or console the gaze. I 
 turned my eyes wistfully in every direction. I sounded every 
 oracle and drew forth the reflections of every observant and dis 
 passionate mind. Still it was ever vox et preterea nihil. All was 
 surmise, fear, or hope. The optimist and the pessimist had an un 
 limited range to indulge their respective fancies, and the vast body 
 of hearers who were swayed by them, drifted helplessly onwards to 
 the solution which for better or worse awaited them. 
 
 In all France there was one man only at this time, and he, seem 
 ingly, the most unconcerned, who had clear and definite ideas as 
 to the future, which lay plain and sure before him. Whilst others 
 speculated, he planned; whilst others hoped, he resolved; and 
 when others shrunk from the inevitable abyss France must cross, 
 he boldly, confidently, approached it. Over it the President 
 meant to leap. Would France follow at his bidding ? Her salva 
 tion and his were wrapped up in that portentous doubt. 
 
 As birds are known to fly hurriedly to and fro before the coming 
 storm, so parties and men, at last, began to change positions anx 
 iously and to provide for their safety in schemes and counsel. I 
 discovered that the moderate Eepublican party, having changed 
 their tactics and abandoned rusty prejudices against England, was 
 quite disposed to make advances towards her Government, and 
 would have been exceedingly content to come to some tacit under 
 standing under certain contingencies. Lord Palmerston, however, 
 was too experienced a statesman and too crafty a diplomatist to 
 compromise himself by an indiscreet word when such informatior
 
 188 A REPKIEVE. 
 
 reached him. It was well, and no doubt satisfactory for him, to 
 know that if France should fall once more into the uneasy lap of 
 party politicians, 4fet the only really practical and progressive 
 amongst them all considered their interests as identified with the 
 English alliance. 
 
 What were the secret conclusions of his Lordship as to the 
 future of France, or what his unavowed bias, it is useless to specu 
 late upon ; but I see no harm in venturing the belief that he put 
 no small confidence in the avenir of the Prince Louis. His prac 
 tised eye must have measured with singular accuracy the caution 
 and skill of the President's consummate manoeuvres, amid amazing 
 difficulties. He must, also, as carefully have estimated the damna 
 tory effects of the factious and disorderly career of the Legislative 
 Assembly. He rightly judged, no doubt, the power of the Presi 
 dent's name, the popularity of his conduct, his decision of character, 
 and his dauntless will. 
 
 In the confusion and terror of a crisis, Lord Palmerston must 
 have foreseen all the benefit to be derived from such advantages as 
 these. 
 
 " He has made no mistake yet," was the significant phrase of 
 his Lordship, at Broadlands, October, '50, and the Presideat had 
 been not less felicitous in the interval that had elapsed. The 
 sympathies of Lord Palmerston, if such a word is applicable to a 
 Statesman of his calibre, must, therefore, have leant towards the 
 Prince Louis, and he must have contemplated his retention of 
 power against the most adverse chances as highly probable, if not 
 desirable. 
 
 Whether as an Englishman of the old school, and one of the 
 Oligarchy, he retained any prejudice against the name of Bonaparte, 
 it is utterly idle to consider ; for a purely political machine like
 
 A REPRIEVE. 189 
 
 the noble Foreign Secretary, if I may use the simile, works solely 
 with calculations, not sentiments. It was enough for him to see 
 the President's final success probable, to desire it, and to adapt 
 himself, with all the readiness of a pliant politician, to the results 
 that would grow out of it, seeking to extract from them all the 
 profit his policy demanded. 
 
 I deem this to be an impartial, however imperfect, sketch of the 
 situation at the beginning of April, when I went over to Ldndon in 
 quest of Mr. Addington's quarterly check, as well as of some definite 
 information respecting my longer connection with the Foreign 
 Office. I called promptly, and was received by the Under Secre 
 tary with his usual formal civility. In reply to his ordinary 
 question of "what was going on in France," I conveyed just such 
 an exposition as I have detailed at greater length above. 
 
 He listened with his accustomed gravity, and in his favorite 
 attitude before the fire, nodding his head or uttering an idle 
 exclamation in the approved official fashion. Having quietly 
 digested all I had to say, the Under Secretary turned to business, 
 and moving towards his desk filled up a check on Drummond's 
 Bank with that easy unconcern people usually feel when they dis- 
 pose of other people's cash. I signed, as usual, a receipt for the 
 amount, and Mr. Addington was on the point of making his 
 parting salutation when, to his surprise, I sat down again. 
 
 I believed him fully aware of all that had occurred ; still, for 
 form's sake, I considered it best to make known to him, as 
 though he did not, all that had transpired between Mr. Edwardes 
 and myself, recapitulating every detail, and winding up with my 
 reflections thereon. The Under Secretary had passed years enough 
 in the Foreign Office to know how to accommodate himself in 
 manner and language to all possible emergencies ; and though he
 
 190 A BEPRIEVE. 
 
 may not have anticipated a proceeding so direct, and, perhaps, a little 
 presumptuous on my part, still he met it with a composure, if not 
 utterly stoical, at least in harmony with his mystic functions. 
 
 Mr. Addington may have expected -that as he showed no desire 
 or intention to refer to the diplomatic passage of arms which had 
 occurred between Mr. Edwardes and myself, that I would in all 
 likelihood be content to "let well alone." This is ancient usage 
 both within and without the walls of the Foreign Office, and before 
 violating it I had given it a passing thought. It was not so much 
 from rampant curiosity to pierce through mysteries, as with a view 
 to pacify my offended dignity, that I determined now that the time 
 had come to receive such explanation as the occasion, I considered, 
 called for. 
 
 Having finished my recital, carefully studded with every effect 
 that could possibly add to its weight, I paused, like Brutus, for a 
 reply, mutely wondering what it would be. The Under Secretary 
 had stood the while with his gaze intently fixed on the Turkey car 
 pet, meditating, as I thought, on my words. The sound of my voice 
 ceasing seemed to wake him up, and finding my tale fully told, 
 he raised his head and said 
 
 " Well, I know nothing at all about the matter, and, therefore, 
 have nothing to say." 
 
 I fell headlong from the boiling point of expectation to the 
 zero of disappointment. 
 
 " Know nothing about it ? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 "Never heard of it?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 There was a chilly dryness in Mr. Addington's looks and words 
 that almost benumbed me. I never had the ambition of Hercules
 
 A REPEIEVE. 193 
 
 for desperate jobs, and I saw tow far beyond my strength would 
 be any effort to force out of Mr. Addington a word it was not his 
 cue to speak. I tried him again, however, on another tack. 
 
 " What would you advise me to do ? " I asked. 
 
 I had never suspected the impassible Under Secretary capable 
 of a shrug, but he gave way to one, as a response, that a Frenchman 
 might have envied. Still absorbed in contemplation of the aforesaid 
 carpet, the Under Secretary stood at bay. 
 
 Under any other circumstances I might have admired it, but 
 paralyzed by my rebound from the stone wall (begging Mr. Ad- 
 dington's pardon) I had unconsciously run against, I felt only 
 anxious to pick myself up and be off. 
 
 " Good morning," I said pleasantly, as I retired to the door. 
 
 *' Good morning," repeated the Under Secretary in a tone 
 that to my disordered fancy had all the effect of " don't you wish 
 you may get it ? " that is, in reference to what I wanted to know. 
 
 From what I have related it has been seen that Mr. Addington, 
 by direction, of course, of Lord Palmerston, had thought proper 
 to ignore the proceedings of his subordinate, Mr. Edwardes, at 
 Paris. Now, what did this mean ? Mystery was piled on mys 
 tery. It was impossible to doubt that Mr. Edwardes had simply 
 obeyed instructions in his brusque effort to oust me, but why 
 should the Under Secretary hesitate to follow up the initiative that 
 had been taken. Was it possible that Lord Palmerston had, 
 meanwhile, been seized with a fit of repentance, and had concluded 
 not to break with me, either from a hope of future usefulness or 
 the conviction that I deserved a better fate ? 
 
 At all events, it was plain enough that the Foreign Office had 
 beat a retreat and left me still in possession of the field. This 
 might have sufficed any easy gentleman chiefly concerned in
 
 ;92 A BEPRIEVE. 
 
 I 
 
 pocketing regularly his quarter's salary, but I was not at all in 
 clined to sit quietly down under the Damocles sword suspended 
 over my head. Had I lost the confidence of Lord Palmerston ? 
 If so, why retain me a day longer in the Foreign Office ? Why 
 not put a prompt, a civil, and satisfactory termination to it ? This 
 was what I wanted to know, and was quite decided to ascertain. 
 
 On the other hand, if it were decided to go on with me, why 
 not vouchsafe me such indications as would enable me to comply 
 with the views of my chief? Should these turn out different from 
 what I supposed they were, as conveyed in the remarks of Lord 
 Palmerston at Broadlands, September, '50, or were such as I 
 could not conscientiously support, then nothing was left me but to 
 tender my resignation. This was, certainly, the common-sense 
 view of the subject, but it may not have conformed to the diplo 
 matic mode of proceeding in vogue at the Foreign Office. There 
 was this advantage, however, in adopting the former, that it would 
 have left me without cause of dissatisfaction or grounds of complaint . 
 
 My interview with Mr. Addington only cleared up one point, viz., 
 that a change of tactics had been decided upon. I was determined 
 coute qui coute to press forward and know more. I was fully sen 
 sible of my presumption in contending single-handed against such 
 formidable odds as the legion yclept the Foreign Office, with such a 
 Colossus as Lord Palmerston at its head. I had little doubt of my 
 ultimate defeat, but my mind, as related, was firmly made up to try 
 my hand at a set- to with the very masters of the art of craft, and 
 failure would, therefore, bring no humiliation. Nay, an advantage 
 would still remain with me in the new experience gained. 
 
 True, if I could have possibly foreseen by mesmeric or other 
 means, all the frightful consequences of my great temerity if I 
 could have dreamt of such an inconceivable concatenation of events
 
 A REPRIEVE. 193 
 
 as ultimately put me in the hard gripe of the Foreign Office, 
 certes, I should have recoiled in terror from what I looked on at 
 the time as a harmless and justifiable course of action. If the Fo_ 
 reign Office, on the other hand, had been imbued with any prophetic 
 lore, and could, by astrological or other divination, have anticipated 
 the failure of their worst designs, and the final publication of this 
 book, it is quite probable they would have dropped all sleights of 
 hand, however dexterous, and dealt with me in a more rational way. 
 
 Having recovered, in a day or two, from my flat repulse at Mr. 
 Addington's hands, I turned my battery, albeit in a curious, not a 
 hostile sense, against my command er-in-chief. Lord Palmerston. 
 I meant to seek an interview with him, and I could imagine no 
 adequate reason why he should refuse it. When I left him last at 
 Broadlands, but six short months ago, I was high in favor, and 
 nothing could I detect, in reviewing my acts or intentions, that of 
 right should lower me. As my employment sprang entirely from 
 his own suggestion, I had positive claims on his attention, and he 
 was, further, bound by his breeding, noblesse oblige, to treat me 
 with civility. 
 
 I called at the Foreign Office, therefore, one afternoon, and sent 
 tip my caird to the noble Viscount. The answer returned was 
 " Lord Palmerston's engaged, but will you wait ?" Nothing was 
 more likely than his Lordship should be engaged, and so resigning 
 myself to my thoughts, I set patiently to work at what the French 
 call faire Vantichambre, Half an hour elapsed, and I considered 
 this justified me in walking about the dingy, dark room, which at 
 the Foreign Office answers for the purgatory that all expectants, 
 sinners or not, are required to pass more or less time in. 
 
 An hour elapsed, but no summons thence. I heard bells ring 
 and messengers moving about the corridors, but the door of my
 
 ]94 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 solitary den gave no signs of vitality. Having finished my pro 
 menade, I began, by way of distraction, to read over the nearly 
 illegible titles of sundry musty volumes that reposed in undis 
 turbed decay in a respectable old bookcase, that had been kept 
 locked up from time immemorial. 
 
 It was a pretty hard job for a man who never got a medal for 
 patience, but I worked through two hours on the slender materials 
 enumerated. Lord Palmerston was still engaged, for I had heard 
 nothing to the contrary. Lord Palmerston's reputation for wit 
 all the world knows, but it was only on this occasion I slowly per 
 ceived that he was just as fond of a practical joke. He had re 
 quested me " to wait," and he left it entirely to my option to 
 keep waiting or to go. 
 
 I decided, after the dose already digested, on the latter, and 
 ringing for a messenger I bid him say, should Lord Palrnerston 
 send down, that I would call again. I could scan in the phy- 
 sigonomy of the veteran 1 addressed an expression not to be mis 
 taken. It said as plainly as words, " if you have not got enough 
 of it, call again." I might be mistaken, but my case began to look 
 worse than I thought it. 
 
 The unpleasant probation the noble Secretary had put me 
 through left me to infer that he sought to shirk me, and this 
 symptom in a Minister of State is fatal. But reverting to my 
 common-sense notions, and forgetting that diplomacy loses all its 
 charms if it does not employ circuitous methods, I sat down to 
 write a polite note to Lord Palmerston, regretting that other en 
 gagements prevented me from waiting longer at the Foreign Office 
 on Wednesday, and begging the honor of an interview at his leisure. 
 He must answer that, was my reflection as I dispatched my note,
 
 A REPRIEVE. 195 
 
 and what can he say but that he will see me, or malee an excuse 
 for not doing so ? One or the other will suffice. 
 The same day I received the following : 
 
 Carlton Gardens, 15th April, 1851. 
 DEAR SIR 
 
 You will find mo at the Foreign Office to-morrow at five 
 o'clock. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 HY. WIKOFF, Esq. PALMERSTON. 
 
 All my doubts and suspicions vanished on the instant. This 
 prompt and business-like reply, granting me the desired interview,' 
 and naming even the precise hour my visit was expected, scattered 
 to the wind all my brooding fancies, and I saw how much mental 
 wrong 1 had done the innocent Under Secretary of State, whilst 
 my remorse was keen, indeed, at all my silly imaginings concerning 
 the illustrious head and front of the Foreign Office. The noble 
 Viscount never could have granted, it struck me immediately, 
 this interview, without prevarication or delay, if he were not pre 
 pared to come to a definite understanding, and to go on smoothly 
 with my engagement hereafter. 
 
 If all I had suspected had been well founded, why the Minister 
 would have availed himself of any pretext, pressure of business or 
 what not, to avoid meeting me, and this might have been expressed 
 in the civilest manner possible. No man ever had a more complete 
 mastery over language than Lord Palmerston, which he employs 
 with such singular skill as to be able to convey the faintest shade 
 of thought. 
 
 As i wended my way to the Foreign Office on the day in 
 question, I turned over in my mind the best mode of treating the 
 subject I was desirous to touch upon. I felt the indiscretion of 
 
 o
 
 196 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 seeking to ascertain what might exactly be the opinions of th 
 Foreign Minister respecting the United States, or whether he 
 thought that I had shewn more zeal than tact in the course I had 
 taken. I felt easy, however, at knowing, even if I had any such 
 intentions, that Lord Palmerston was too old a diplomatist to let 
 rae ransack his mind at my leisure. I was quite certain that I 
 would obtain no more than he was disposed to impart to me, and I 
 resigned myself, therefore, the more readily to the modicum of 
 information, more or less, that he would condescend to accord me. 
 I was at the place of rendezvous punctually at five o'clock, and 
 sent up my card as usual. I waited half-an-hour, but without the 
 least impatience this time, for as my mind was in no suspense about 
 the result, the moments flew by unobserved. A messenger, finally, 
 came in to say that one of the Diplomatic Corps had just called 
 upon Lord Palmerston, and that i would be obliged to wait his 
 departure. 
 
 "Oh, very well," I replied, " I shall abide his Lordship's plea 
 sure." 
 
 Time rolled on, and by degrees I exhausted all the topics of 
 my gentle meditations. Bless my soul ! it occurred to me, at last, 
 could I have mistaken the date of the note and have come the 
 wrong day ? I had it in my pocket and examined it. No ; there 
 it was, the 15th of April, mid I had made no error. 
 
 Nearly two hours had elapsed since my arrival, and I thought I 
 might venture to summon one of the officials of the p'ace, and so 
 rang the bell. The intensely respectable individual who had bowed 
 me out the day before presented himself. 
 
 " Has the Foreign Ambassador gone ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I believe he has," was the cautious reply. 
 
 " Is anybody with his Lordship ? "
 
 A REPRIEVE. 107 
 
 "I really cannot sa}", Sir," was the prudent answer; for the 
 underlings of the Foreign Office are all obliged to respect the 
 observances of a certain diplomatic training. Any bungling 
 of theirs might involve the Minister or Under Secretaries in various 
 unpleasant predicaments, and their dismissal would follow without 
 mercy. They speak, therefore, by the card ; and when my inter 
 locutor went so far as to admit, with a qualification, that the 
 Ambassador was gone, whilst I was not immediately sent for, I was 
 seized with a new qualm of suspicion. 
 
 I hesitated a moment, and then thought another question might 
 tend to elucidate matters. 
 
 " Perhaps his Lordship has forgotten me," I suggested. 
 
 " Oh no, Sir," exclaimed the messenger, " his Lordship always 
 places on his desk the cards of those he intends to see, and only 
 removes them after he has seen them." 
 
 Cerberus had his cue, for all this meant that as the noble Lord 
 had not sent for me yet, there was the likely inference that he 
 would not send for me at all. 
 
 " I will wait a little longer," I observed to the messenger, who 
 retired with a bow of acquiescence. 
 
 Now what in the world am I to understand by all this, was my 
 inward and searching reflection as I sat down again, to ruminate. 
 A humiliating sense of my inability to cope with manoeuvres like 
 these came over me, and as I looked round the dull apartment 
 almost obscured in the shades of evening, I began to wish myself 
 fairly out of this fox's den. 
 
 What did the illustrious Viscount mean, I kept on repeating as 
 each effort at a solution failed, in asking me to come and see him 
 at the Foreign Office on such a day and at such an hour ? There it 
 is in black and white, and I read his note again.
 
 198 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 Carlton Gardens, 15th April, 18.31. 
 DEAR SIR 
 
 You will find me at the Foreign Office to-morrow at five 
 o'clock. 
 
 "Yours faithfully, 
 HY. WIKOFF, Esq. PALMERSTON. 
 
 I perused it mechanically over and over, when, at last, a new 
 light began to pierce my dull brains. Was it possible? Another 
 practical joke of the noble humourist ten times richer than that of 
 the previous day. Ho\v could I be so stupid as not to see it before ! 
 The same self-contempt at his blindness which overtook Macbeth 
 when " Birnam wood came to Dunsinane," overcame me for a 
 moment. 
 
 Lord Palmerston told me in his note that I would find him at 
 the Foreign Office at five o'clock. Well, it was true. I had found 
 him there at that hour punctually. He had never said anything 
 about seeing me, though. That was simply an inference of my own, 
 and I had paid for it by kicking my heels there in idle expectation 
 for more than two mortal hours. It must be so. I see the joke 
 now, and a better never victimised me. 
 
 I rang the bell once more, when the same deferential man in 
 black appeared. 
 
 " Has his Lordship enquired for me ?" I asked pleasantly. 
 
 " I believe his Lordship has gone," and my respondent uncon 
 sciously, perhaps, rubbed his nose with his finger, an indication, as 
 I took it, most significant, and worth a whole volume of dull com 
 ment. The truth stared me in the face. I had been the dupe of 
 an admirable ruse, and his Lordship must have enjoyed its complete 
 success not a little. Happily, I was not obliged to conceal my 
 vexation from the attentive janitor who stood by to bow me out,
 
 A EEPRIEVE. 199 
 
 for I felt none ; but picking up my hat, I took my departure with 
 out loss of dignity. 
 
 Some may doubt my composure under such a deliberate slight, 
 and think it mere parade. It is astonishing, though, with what 
 equanimity ordinary people bear the brunt of a great man's joke, 
 and as the bully in the play asserted that he always liked any one 
 the better for having fought with him, so I thought, perhaps, Lord 
 Palmerston would relish me the more for having achieved such a 
 jocular triumph over me. What tended chiefly, there is little doubt, 
 to allay anj little irritation that I might otherwise have experienced, 
 was my unfeigned surprise to find that such " artful dodges" were 
 to be found amongst the diplomatic apparatus of the Foreign 
 Office, and that they were so highly esteemed as to be employed, 
 when occasion warranted it, by such an adept of the art as Lord 
 Palmerston, the distinguished head of the department. 
 
 Up to this time I had considered that jests like these constituted 
 the stock-in-trade of facetious school-boys, but this new experience 
 of mine not only revealed the unlimited resources of diplomacy, 
 but taught me that the simplest means are frequently the cleverest 
 and the best. In my ignorance I had entertained the most pro 
 found reverence, almost dread, for the arcana of the Downing-street 
 temple, and Avhen first I entered its solemn portals, I ventured 
 forward with cautious step and 'bated breath, lest it might be 
 thought that "fools rush in where angels fear to tread." But as 
 my apprenticeship waxed on, and I became better acquainted with 
 its modus operandi and more familiar with the materials used, I 
 discovered, like the novice who gets at last "behind the scenes," 
 that I had been all my life admiring very grand effects produced by 
 very trashy means. 
 
 In the present case, see what had been accomplished by a
 
 200 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 common-place trick enough, which had served to give a tumble to 
 my conceit, and to protect Lord Palmerston's secrets from my 
 aggressive curiosity. I found myself so effectually tamed down 
 by this unexpected bye-play of the adroit Minister, that I decided 
 forthwith to give up my experiments on the Foreign Office, and to 
 abide the manifestation of its final pleasure with what grace I 
 could. 
 
 I abandoned London soon after, and making a short detour to 
 revive my drooping spirits, got back to Paris on the 27th of April, 
 a wiser man somewhat than I left it. On calling next day at the 
 British Embassy I found a letter there in the well-known hand of 
 the noble Secretary of State. It ran thus 
 
 Carlton Gardens, April 18th, 1851. 
 Mr DEAR SIR 
 
 I was very sorry to be prevented from seeing you on Wed. 
 nesday, but if you should be in town on Saturday, the 26th, you. 
 would find me at the Foreign Office at five o'clock, or half-past five, 
 on that day. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 HY. WIKOFF, Esq. PALMERSTON. 
 
 The immediate effect of this flattering missive was to make me 
 quite oblivious of my late bruises, and I was near as possible 
 running over to London to explain why it happened that I was not 
 thereon the 26th, the day suggested. But my first emotions soon 
 subsided, and I began to recall the illusions that had led me astray 
 before. In spite of all ray deference, the suspicion was getting 
 strong hold of me that if my Lord Palmerston was not a gay, he 
 was, perchance, an arch deceiver. 
 
 I looked closer into his note. Was it, in fact, a bond fid? 
 apology for the fun he had played off on me, or was it only one of
 
 A REPRIEVE. 201 
 
 those formal acts of civility of the hardened boxer, who, after a 
 "smasher," seeks to encourage his antagonist to try it again, by 
 hoping " he has not hurt him." The apparent regret of the il 
 lustrious Viscount was highly soothing, but why did he put off the 
 proposed interview to the 26th a whole week? Was that only 
 to give me breathing time and courage to venture again ? 
 
 The really suspicious point of his renewed invitation was, that 
 the same language exactly was employed as before, viz., "You will 
 find me at the Foreign Office." No ; a joke's a joke, I observed 
 to myself, but it loses all its piquancy from repetition, and before I 
 consign myself again to solitary confinement in that fusty old cell 
 at the Foreign Office for several hours, I will give his Lordship a 
 sly hint that I half divine his intention. If I am mistaken I shall 
 have a more explicit letter, but in the other case I shall hear no 
 more of him. This was my sage decision, and I wrote to him ac 
 cordingly. 
 
 The result showed I had acted sensibly, for in a few days after 
 wards Mr. Ed\vardes told me that Lord Paimerston had written to 
 bid him say that "he did not wish to see me for anything 
 particular, but he thought I wished to see him." 
 
 " Go to, go to, for an arrant madcap," I was inclined to say 
 with the gra.ve-digger in Hamlet, when I heard this message. It 
 was actually laughing in my face without the smallest consideration 
 for my wounded pretensions. It was just as much as to say, 
 " Well, my Yankee friend and employe, if your vaulting ambition to 
 penetrate into the unfathomable recesses of my ambiguous policy 
 is not yet appeased, come on once more ' you will find me at tho 
 Foreign Office at five o'clock.' " 
 
 In the state of mystification to which I had fallen, it was some 
 comfort to find a companion no better off. For not long after I
 
 202 A REPRIEVE. 
 
 returned, Mr. Edwardes said to me one day, rubbing his hands in 
 a pleasant sort of a way: 
 
 " Well, what did Mr. Addington say to you ?" 
 
 " He said," I replied, not affecting to understand him, " here's 
 a check for 125, and will you sign the receipt ?" 
 
 He looted at me askance, to make sure I was not diplomatising ; 
 and reassured by my innocent look, he went on : 
 
 " Yes, but what did he say, I mean, about your resigning ?" 
 
 " Not a single word," I answered. 
 
 " What, not a word 1" he exclaimed, energetically, somewhat in 
 the tone that Othello exclaimed, '* What, not Cassio killed !" 
 though I don't intend to compare the cases. 
 
 " No," I repeated, " not a word, though I did my best to draw 
 him out." 
 
 Mr. Edwardes fell back as thoroughly thunderstruck as ever I 
 saw any one. He remained for a time motionless, like Don Bar- 
 tolo in the opera, and when, at length, he came to, it seemed as 
 though he would never entirely get over his astonishment. I don't 
 think he was ever the same man again. 
 
 It was clearer to me than ever before, however, that the first 
 intention was to cut ray head oil' summarily, as attempted 
 through the intervention of Mr. Edwardes, but for some incom 
 prehensible reason, known only to the Foreign Office, a reprieve 
 was decided on, and my official life was prolonged. Be it for 
 better or for worse, I was still determined to go on as I had begun, 
 and to continue, be the consequences what they might, to do all 
 that in me lay to cement the happy concord between England and 
 France, and above all, to bury deep the immovable foundations of 
 a lasting alliance between sire and son, England and her once re 
 bellious colonies, now one of the great Powers of the world.
 
 THE DIE CAST. 08 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 That the leading statesmen of France should have known 
 nothing of the character or intellect of the Prince Louis Napoleon 
 prior to his advent in France, August, 1848, is natural enough; 
 for, an exile all his life, they had no chance of personal observation, 
 and what else they knew of him was greatly to his disadvantage. 
 His attempts against the dynasty of Louis Philippe in '36 and '40 
 were regarded as nothing short of the acts of a madman, for 
 neither his means nor motives were understood. Besides, it was 
 the interest of the statesmen of the day to heap opprobrium upon 
 him, whatever their secret opinions, for his success might lead to 
 the creation of new men, and their own retirement from the stage 
 of politics. 
 
 As far as my own experience went, and I may venture to say 
 there was scarcely a prominent man of France whose opinion I had 
 not sounded -in one way or another of the Prince Louis, I do not 
 hesitate to assert that not one of them had the least notion of his 
 true disposition, character, or mind when he was elected President 
 of the Republic, December, *48. It was a settled conviction 
 amongst them all that he was a weak and frivolous person, and 
 composed of just such pliant materials as adapted him exactly for 
 the political tool they ardently desired to get hold of. Louis 
 Philippe had too much cleverness and duplicity to be handled 
 always as suited the views of his aspiring counsellors.
 
 2G4 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 I have in the course of my narrative given passing glimpses of 
 the ominous difficulties that grew up gradually between the Presi 
 dent and the influential politicians of the day. To any one who 
 understood the President's real character, and the mistaken 
 opinions formed of him by these party leaders, it was curious, not 
 to say amusing, to watch the development of events, and to 
 note the various phases of feeling the latter successively un 
 derwent. When the results of their management of the President 
 turned out the very opposite to that intended, whilst his conduct 
 \ras so different to that expected, they were, at first, astonished > 
 then perplexed, next distrustful, and, at last, furiously hostile. 
 
 At the beginning you heard them exclaiming, " mais c'est 
 etonnant " (it is astonishing). 
 
 Later it was, " mafoi t je n'y comprends rien (by my faith, I don't 
 understand it). 
 
 hi i.-.l , '. I ' t i 
 
 Afterwards they began whispering, "prenez y garde ; mcfiez 
 tons" (take care ; be on your guard). 
 
 finally, they broke out with, "ilfaut enfinir.cestcirendrefou" 
 (it is time to finish it is enough to drive one mad). 
 
 It is natural, I repeat, that French politicians should have 
 misconceived the Prince Louis at the beginning; and I admit 
 that it was no easy matter to read him quickly and correctly 
 afterwards, for his natural reserve was deepened tenfold by the 
 extreme caution his difficult position exacted; but what I do 
 consider very strange is, that, lip to the last moment, the keenest- 
 sighted men of the political world should still be wandering about 
 as completely in the dark as to the man they really had to do 
 with, as though they were obstinately playing with him a game of 
 " blind man's buff."
 
 THE DIE CAST. 205 
 
 Whether it was that the Prince Louis was a combination such 
 as they had never met before and there is something in this, 
 for the Prince is neither wholly French, German, Italian, English, 
 or American, but, having lived in all these countries, he has 
 contracted, likely, a little identity with each or whether, having 
 yielded prematurely to a rooted conviction, they were too proud to 
 confess it even to themselves, I know not ; but the fact is posi 
 tive, that even so late as May, 1851, the idea was still as 
 prevalent as ever amongst them, that the Prince Louis Napoleon 
 was a very ordinary person, without force or capacity for the role 
 he was enacting. 
 
 That it may not be supposed I am indulging in idle speculation, 
 I will mention an expression of M. Dupin' s, President of the 
 Assembly, which struck me so forcibly that I have never forgotten 
 it. But first a word or two of this distinguished person. 
 
 M. Dupin was a lawyer by profession, and rose steadily to its 
 highest functions. Embarking in political life, he obtained similar 
 elevation there. Eschewing the extreme opinions of all parties, 
 he attached himself to that body of respectable men, who, under 
 Louis Philippe, were designated the juste milieu party, which 
 appellation explained their moderate views, and consequent in 
 fluence in the State. M. Dupin for many years presided over the 
 Chamber of Deputies, and became, at last, in May, '49, President 
 of the Legislative Assembly. It is needless aJmost to say, that to 
 occupy such positions as M. Dupin retained for years, and to 
 reach to that elevation in the State which was universally 
 conceded to him, he must possess abilities of the very first order. 
 
 It is not for this only I select him for a passing remark, but 
 rather that with the intellect he possesses in common with so many 
 of his gifted countrymen, he joins a description of character that is,
 
 206 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 certainly, rare in France. M. Duple, in law, politics, and daily life, 
 is one of those serious, practical, and business-like men, that aro 
 common enough in England and the United States, but in the land, 
 even, of Henri IV. are rari nanfas in gurgite vasto. He is almost 
 entirely free of that frivolity, that gaiety of disposition, that for 
 centuries has been a large ingredient in French character, and 
 which, though modified with change of times, is still a prominent 
 trait, even amongst the highest class of men, where it displays 
 itself, if not in manner and speech, at least in levity of conduct or 
 laxity of opinion. 
 
 M. Dupin may, in short, be regarded as one of that new school 
 of statesmen that are the especial product of our times, and whose 
 genius is kept in curb by public opinion and popular responsi 
 bility. He is one of the discerning few in Prance who see that 
 the people are too intelligent, and too resolute, to be governed for 
 the mere profit of party, and according to the whims of poli 
 te. t*J?--t- ticians. For this reason he is admirably adapted, better than 
 any other man I know of, to sustain and administer in France that 
 Parliamentary Government which is the English panacea for the 
 diseased body-politic of every nation. 
 
 If such a man as M. Dupin, by the double force of his talents, 
 character, and career, cannot secure the longevity of Parliamentary 
 institutions, it may be logically inferred that the soil of France is 
 not yet adapted to this exotic d 'outre mer. M. Dupin was Presi 
 dent of the Chamber of Deputies, as I have said, under Louis 
 Philippe, and was, besides, an intimate friend and counsellor of the 
 t King ; yet he failedjsignalry in making the Parliament understand 
 either the exigencies of the epoch or the spirit of the nation. 
 Again, when President of the Legislative Assembly, where it was 
 of vital consequence he should reconcile the Parliamentary party
 
 TIIE DIE CAST. 207 
 
 to the jarring and hostile elements around, he forgot his r6le so far 
 as to become a partisan, and sacrificed his important functions for 
 the sake of a ban mot. 
 
 If M. Dupin could have restrained his sarcastic wit, better 
 order would have prevailed in the Assembly ; and if such a man 
 was carried away at such a crisis, it proves that party spirit is yet 
 too strong in France, perhaps, for a balanced Constitution to 
 flourish ; and how much more, then, for the plaything called Par 
 liamentary Government ? 
 
 I have known M. Dupin for several years, so far as a humble 
 individual like myself can know so lofty a person, and have occa 
 sionally sought an interview. I was curious, indeed, to ascertain 
 what might be the real opinion of such a man concerning the im 
 mediate future of his country, as well as of those who might 
 control her destinies. 
 
 I called on him one morning in May, '51, at the splendid resi 
 dence assigned to their President by the Assembly, and was 
 favoured with a short conversation, though quite a crowd of ex 
 pectants were waiting in his ante-chamber. 
 
 With all his prudence it was impossible for him to disguise the 
 utter vacancy of his mind as to the momentous contingencies of 
 the future ; but one important fact leaked out, which did honor to 
 his patriotism, and harmonised with the elevation of his character. 
 Though identified in some measure with the Monarchical party, 
 more from love of order than sympathy with their projects, he dis 
 played entire readiness to lend himself to any political arrangement 
 that offered the best chance of stability. 
 
 As the Assembly had declared itself against the re-election of the 
 Prince Louis Napoleon to the Presidency, he considered it useless 
 to take that into consideration ; but it was evident that he was quite
 
 208 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 ready to enter into a compromise with the moderate Republican 
 party, as constituting the best basis for a permanent organisation. 
 General Cavaignac was the admitted head of this party, and I 
 asked him, rather abruptly, what he thought of him. 
 
 " Le General Cavaignac est un liomme ires digne sous tons les 
 rapports " (General Cavaignac is a very worthy man in all respects), 
 was his reply, uttered with strong emphasis. 
 
 Yet, M. Dupin remembered his failure in '48, when competing 
 with the Prince Louis for the popular favor, and he was fully aware 
 that neither the General uor his party had gained anything since. 
 
 The conversation then turned upon the Prince President, of 
 whom M. Dupin spoke in measured terms of respect. He avowed 
 his conduct had been judicious, though I am sure he thought this 
 had proceeded more from irresolution than judgment. He believed 
 the Prince still retained his hold upon the masses, and that this 
 made all the difficulty of the situation. 
 
 "Do you think he will retire," I ventured to ask, "at the end 
 of his term ? " 
 
 M. Dupin hesitated a moment. " II aspire an poitrpre" (He 
 aspires to the purple), he said slowly and with much gravity. 
 
 " His chances are not bad, I think," was my prompt remark. 
 
 " Non,mais " returned the President of the Assembly, and 
 he stopped short. 
 
 " Mais " I repeated in a tone of undisguised interest 
 
 " Mais il n'est pas asses fort pour ce rule la (but he is not strong 
 enough to play that part). 
 
 M. Dupin certainly spoke from no prejudice against the Prince, 
 or as though averse to his making the effort if he thought fit, but 
 simply from his profound conviction that the Prince had not the 
 requisite force of character or mental capacity to govern France.
 
 THE DIE CAST. 209 
 
 It is worth while to give this anecdote, which I trust will not be 
 offensive to the ex- President Dupin, as illustrating the opinion 
 entertained of the Prince Louis by the leading men of France, even 
 so late as the spring of '51. 
 
 A grand event had already occurred, which I must notice 
 with some particularity, for it was, in fact, the cast of the die 
 which shaped anew the history of France. By the Eepublican 
 Constitution of '43, it was settled that the President of the Re 
 public was not re-eligible. This may have been partly meant 
 to gratify, in turn, the ambition of public men, but still more to 
 prevent any popular chief from consolidating his power. It dis 
 played, however, a doubt of the popular intelligence, which came 
 with a bad grace from the Eepublican party. It proved they had 
 no faith in their own doctrines. Still worse, it was an unjustifiable 
 invasion of the popular will, for had not the nation, invested with 
 unlimited suffrage, the right to choose their own Government ? 
 
 This was an egregious mistake, which, added to its other de 
 fects, rendered the permanence of the Constitution more than 
 doubtful. The popularity of the Prince Louis was so universal that 
 his re-election might be regarded as the national sentiment ; and 
 under these circumstances, it was clearly the duty of the Assembly 
 -to modify the Constitution and strike out the prohibiting clause in 
 question. As faithful representatives, they were required to respect 
 the popular wish, which manifested itself in every form of enthusi 
 astic demonstration ; and as patriots, they were bound to remove 
 with cheerful alacrity so threatening a cause of disorder as grew 
 out of the retention of this presumptuous interference with the will 
 of the nation. 
 
 It was remembered that the Constitution had never been sub 
 mitted to popular approval, and this made the maintenance of any
 
 210 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 of its provisions, that came into direct collision with the popular 
 desire, doubly unwise, as it was clearly dangerous. This w.as, 
 indeed, a momentous question. Upon its decision depended 
 boundless contingencies, inconceivable results. If the Assembly 
 were solely anxious for the welfare of Trance, their course was 
 manifest. They should unanimously withdraw every obstacle to 
 the free expression of the national impulse. Whatever their doubts 
 or dislike of the President of the Republic might be, they had no 
 right to dictate to the nation, or to thwart its purpose. 
 
 How blind must they be not to see that any such attempt must 
 recoil upon their own heads, and make the President only the legiti 
 mate agent of the national will in putting a violent end to their 
 abused mandate. As patriots, as men of sense, and as sagacious 
 politicians, they had only one alternative, viz., to repeal the Con 
 stitutional clause against re-eligibility. 
 
 What was their conduct at this grave crisis, involving their own 
 destiny and the national weal ? 
 
 What was the conduct of the Convention which in '87 framed 
 the present Constitution of the United States ? Every clause, 
 every line of it was shaped in accordance with the popular mind, 
 and it was, afterwards, duly submitted to the popular vote for 
 approval or rejection. Just imagine the fate of the signers of this 
 instrument if they had inserted a prohibition against the re-eligi 
 bility of the President, lest Washington or Jefferson might be the 
 country's choice. It is easy to conceive the fate of this noble 
 charter, if it had been disfigured by such a clause, from such a 
 motive it would have been indignantly trampled under foot. 
 
 Again, imagine what would have been the conduct of ftie English 
 Oligarchy any time within these 25 years past upon any question 
 which vitally touched the feelings or interests of the nation. Did
 
 THE DIE CAST. 211 
 
 they resist the Reform Bill in '32, or maintain the Corn Laws in. 
 '45 ? No, they were too wise to peril their own existence, or to 
 throw the country into violent disorder. 
 
 Let us see, now, what was the behaviour of the French Legis 
 lative Assembly in 1851. Every man of them knew that the 
 country was in a most critical condition that the wildest doc 
 trines pervaded portions of the lower classes that the worst 
 passions of the worst men were aroused that secret societies 
 stood ready at every dark corner, waiting the signal of anarchy to 
 spring forward and apply the torch and use the poignard, till 
 France became a spectacle of horror to Europe. They also knew 
 that it the Prince Louis Napoleon was prevented becoming a candi 
 date for re-election, no other eae remained upon whom the national 
 choice was likely to rally. Did they, with the knowledge of this 
 notorious fact, and in the presence of these dangers, forget party 
 differences, close their ranks, and, deliberating together as patriotic 
 Frenchmen, decide to expunge the prohibitory clause, and thus 
 extinguish all cause for alarm, and all pretext for usurpation ? 
 
 Behold. The proposition came before the Assembly. The Ee- 
 publicans opposed the amendment in a body. They braved all 
 consequences, as they thought their party must gain by confusion. 
 It rested with the Monarchists to decide the question, as they had 
 the majority. They deliberately voted, to maintain tlie clause 
 ayainst re-eligibility, and thus arrogantly set at defiance the known 
 wishes and the dearest interests of the nation. 
 
 It was perfectly known to all those who mixed in political circles 
 at the time, that their object was to get rid of the Prince Louis 
 Napoleon ; and to gratify their personal hostility, they went to the 
 length of risking some terrible catastrophe. They had another 
 object, besides, which was to do away with the Eepublic, and they 
 
 P
 
 212 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 felt quite confident that their vote against amending the Constitu 
 tion, which would only ensure its longer duration, must precipitate 
 some revolutionary demonstration, which they meant to seize upon 
 for restoring the Monarchy. 
 
 Whatever may be thought of the want of nationality, or the 
 utter deficiency of correct feeling of the Monarchists of '51, still 
 something might be conceded to their desperate courage if they 
 had based their calculations upon anything like a reasonable basis. 
 But in doing away with the Prince Louis, and in overthrowing the 
 Eepublic, what chance, the most remote, existed for setting up the 
 Monarchy in their place ? The feeling of the country ran strong 
 against both branches of the Bourbon family, and any attempt to 
 restore a Legitimist or Orleanist Prince would be met by the most 
 implacable resistance. 
 
 If the nation, however, had entertained no objection to the 
 restoration of the Bourbon Monarchy, was there any possibility of 
 the adherents of the opposing branches ever agreeing which of the 
 two should reign ? Would M. Thiers and Count Mole, on behalf 
 of the Orleans Dynasty, have yielded to M. Berryer and Count 
 Montalembert, representing the claims of Henri V P Unless they 
 were prepared to revive the Spartan Constitution of Lycurgus, 
 which divided the Executive Power between two kings an 
 absurdity it was certain that the Monarchists would get to 
 loggerheads amongst themselves, which would, infallibly, throw 
 Prance into the hands of the Socialists and Communists, who were 
 so utterly incapable of organising a Government of any kind, that 
 ruin and massacre would overspread the land. 
 
 Every thinking man, nay, every dispassionate person in France, 
 expressed these opinions daily in the summer of '51. The 
 Monarchists could not, and did not, gainsay them. Alea jacta est
 
 THE DIE CAST. 213 
 
 was then only response; and they began their preparations for 
 carrying out the first part of their programme, the expulsion of 
 Prince Louis from power. Beyond that they neither saw nor cal 
 culated. Insurrection was probable, Socialism was imminent, and 
 Anarchy might hold the country in her frightful embrace for years 
 to come, " Mais, enfin, le jeu est d, nous" (but, finally, the game 
 is ours), was their declared belief; for France, exhausted and 
 bleeding at every pore, must cry out for the Monarchy, which will, 
 then, take new and permanent root. 
 
 This was the reasoning of these infatuated, infuriated men in 
 '61. Are such men, so deficient in judgment and common 
 humanity, to say nothing of patriotism, fit to be entrusted with 
 the well-being of Hottentots ? Are men, who would sacrifice to 
 private pique or party passions their own safety and a nation's 
 welfare, likely to inaugurate with success the Parliamentary 
 Government of England, or the Constitutional balance of the 
 United States? Such were, doubtless, the reflections of the 
 nation, astounded at so bold and flagitious an act as the refusal to 
 revise the Constitution. Was it likely that a people so sagacious, 
 experienced, and high-spirited as the French would tamely suffer 
 their lives and property; their national character and dignity, 
 thus to be thrown into the boiling cauldron of Revolution, when 
 ever it might suit the whims, or gratify the mauvaise humeur of 
 certain politicians ? 
 
 For my part, I made up my mind at the time that these gentle 
 men, however brilliant their literary or declamatory powers, totally 
 underrated the intelligence of the great nation they aspired to 
 control, and lamentably misconceived the age they were living in. 
 It is true, they dug the pit which swallowed up Charles the Tenth 
 and his Government of Priests. Not less true, thev prepared the
 
 214 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 downfall of Louis Philippe and his cohort of Placemen and Jobbers. 
 In this, however, they were simply the instruments of the popular 
 will, whilst they believed that they were only carrying out their 
 personal projects. 
 
 It is high time for the politicians of France to learn what the 
 politicians of England and the United States already know : that 
 France, no more than England or the United States, can be 
 governed against its will or interests by any man, or set of men, 
 whatever their skill at intrigue, their moral hardihood, or their 
 arrogant conceit. 
 
 As far, then, as it depended on the politicians of the Assembly, 
 Republican and Monarchical, unhappy France was launched once 
 more upon a shoreless sea. The vessel of State, betrayed by her 
 own Officers, was drifting helplessly towards perdition. If her 
 crew did not bestir themselves in time, their fate was sealed. 
 
 What thought or said the President of the Republic at this last 
 desperate move of the coalition of parties against him ? He was 
 narrowly watched by his antagonists, who eagerly longed for a 
 word, and inwardly prayed for some act of his, that might give 
 them some advantage over him. 
 
 The nation, too, turned its earnest gaze upon him as though 
 seeking to investigate if he had the requisite skill and resolution 
 to undertake its defence against the perils which environed it. But 
 he spoke not, nor yet gave sign. His mien was calm, his pursuits 
 uninterrupted, and his resignation to the schemes of his enemies 
 apparently supreme. His purpose, if he had any, remained in 
 scrutable. 
 
 The Assembly, perplexed, seemed to repent its temerity. The 
 nation, alarmed, regarded in silent horror the vortex it was ap 
 proaching. The President, whatever his outward composure, must
 
 THE DIE CAST. 215 
 
 have pondered anxiously over the part lie had to play. Should he 
 abandon the helm, and leave the bark, freighted with such precious 
 interests, to be dashed to pieces, or, Curtius like, should he leap 
 into the gulf, and seek to save the nation if he lost himself? He 
 must have paused in the presence of such, vast considerations. 
 Selfish ambition could not alone have nerved him against such 
 tremendous risks as beset his path. It was one of those solemn 
 moments when nothing less than a sense of duty and a conviction 
 of right will inspire a man or a nation to brave all odds, and 
 struggle for' the triumph of a righteous cause. 
 
 It would have been an act of sheer insanity for him to think of 
 entering the lists against the politicians of France, arrayed in 
 solid phalanx, if he had not known the country was ready to sus 
 tain him in its own behalf. Could he doubt it ? Had not peti 
 tions from every quarter and from all classes poured for months 
 into the Assembly, demanding his eligibility ? Had not the sym 
 pathies of the nation displayed themselves in enthusiastic shouts 
 in whatever section of France he appeared? What did this 
 mean other than that public opinion approved of his course, and 
 thereby condemned that of the Assembly ? It is impossible to 
 misrepresent the situation, for these facts are notorious. 
 
 I challenge contradiction when I assert that, in 1851, the Prince 
 Louis Napoleon was endorsed by the opinion of the country ; and 
 to the same extent, therefore, were his opponents in the Assembly 
 branded with national reprobation. If, then, he believed himself 
 called upon to champion the cause of France, and felt his courage 
 equal to the grandeur of the emergency, what forbad the act ? His 
 oath to the Constitution ! What a mockery 1 The Constitution 
 no longer existed. It had been insulted, violated, and defied in 
 the street and the Assembly by its own authors, till it had become
 
 216 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 a by-word of scorn. It had been broken through and ridden down 
 by the Monarchical majority, in utter contempt, whenever it suited 
 their purpose or relieved their spleen. 
 
 What was the Constitution of '43 other than the ill-contrived 
 pact of the pseudo-Republican party, by which they hoped to secure 
 power in their own hands, and which, fearful of its rejection, they 
 had never ventured to submit to the vote of the country. It wanted 
 the national stamp, and was therefore illegal, according to every 
 Republican theory. Some of its more prominent authors, Louis 
 Blanc and Ledru Eollin, had, by an appeal to arras, endeavoured in 
 '48 and '49 to destroy it, but it was sustained by the necessities of 
 the country till some better adjusted organization should supersede 
 it. Indeed, it mattered little to the country what form of govern 
 ment existed, whether Republican or Monarchical, so long as legis 
 lation was in harmony with their interests, and the laws were 
 faithfully administered. 
 
 But things had come to such a pass that the Legislature, who 
 alone had the power, treasonably refused to amend the organic law 
 when it was proved that it stood directly in the path of the wishes 
 and interests of the nation. To talk at such a crisis of the oath 
 of the President to a party compact, violated, first, by its own 
 sponsors, and next, abused by those who temporarily sustained it 
 from selfish motives, and which was always wanting in legality, is 
 simply to set logic and reason at defiance. 
 
 These were the views entertained at the time by all impartial 
 and dispassionate people, who had no other interest than to see 
 the country saved from the horrors of anarchy which so plainly 
 awaited it. As time wore on, the politicians of all parties began 
 to make preparations for the stormy future now approaching. The 
 Republicans were sore perplexed to find a candidate to represent
 
 THE DIE CAST. 217 
 
 them at the next Presidential election. So little confidence had 
 they that any one of their known leaders was likely to attract the 
 popular suffrage, that they made up their minds to adopt un homme 
 du pevple, some common labourer or workman. They were busy 
 the autumn of '51, seeking to find such an one as would suit their 
 purpose. Could any fact more clearly denote to what a point the 
 Eepublican party in France had fallen, when they were compelled 
 to resort to such a shift in the hope to save themselves from utter 
 extinction ? 
 
 As for the Monarchists, they found themselves in quite as serious 
 a dilemma. If they brought forward a candidate for the next 
 Presidency, it would be a formal recognition on their part of the 
 .Republican Constitution, a thing detested, and yet it would hardly 
 do to let the period of the election come without making an effort 
 to secure it. They, too, were equally puzzled for a candidate the 
 nation would be disposed to accept. 
 
 The third son of Louis Philippe, the Prince de Joinville, was 
 talked of, but his only claim to popularity was founded on the 
 fact of his having brought home from St. Helena the ashes of 
 Napoleon. Could anything prove stronger than this, the magical 
 power of the name of Bonaparte ? and what chance did the pro 
 posed candidate of the Monarchical party stand in opposition to 
 the incontestable hold on popular affection of the nephew and 
 heir of the idolized Emperor? But he needed not the mighty 
 spell of his name, for the President had only to come forward for 
 re-election as the rejected candidate of the Assembly, and this 
 alone, if he had no other title, would have given him a majority of 
 millions. 
 
 Meanwhile, the party of disorder, with secret societies scattered 
 all over the country, was lying in ambush, joyously panting for
 
 218 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 the moment of confusion to rise and pillage the land. Let any 
 disinterested mind, therefore, contemplate the situation of France 
 in November, '51, and say what was the duty of any patriot, or 
 friend of humanity, who had adequate means to accomplish his 
 object. The Monarchical and Eepublican parties had fallen so low 
 in national esteem that any candidate who came forward in their 
 behalf was sure of a condign defeat, and yet, from motives equally 
 disgraceful to them as politicians and as men, they dared to oppose 
 the choice of the nation by refusing to amend an objectionable 
 law. 
 
 I appeal to the patriots and philanthropists of every nation. 
 I invoke the memories of Washington, Jefferson, and Adams, and 
 reverentially demand whether the delegates of a people who, false to 
 duty and deaf to conscience, are ready to sacrifice the order and 
 well-being of a whole community, and, perhaps, the peace of the 
 world, to the sordid interests of party and the aggrandisement of 
 individuals, have not abjured their allegiance and forfeited their 
 mandate ? In such a case do not all representative rights revert 
 to the power from whence they came, and is the nation not justi 
 fied when, in its omnipotence, it pronounces sentence upon such 
 guilty dereliction, " Depart, thou unfaithful servants ?" 
 
 How often in the history of the world have nations perished, 
 and tyranny been perpetuated, by the same criminal indifference to 
 the public good, and the same reckless devotion to personal 
 interests as was displayed by the leaders of the French Legislative 
 Assembly of 1851? Happily, the intelligence of such commu 
 nities as those of the United States and England have arrived at 
 that point that no body of men, however high in station, or gifted 
 in intellect, would presume to set the national will at defiance, or 
 to make a holocaust of the national welfare only to carry out their 
 party objects.
 
 THE DIE CAST. 219 
 
 And it is consoling to know that such iniquities are coming to 
 an end in France; for the significant lessons of 1789, 1830, and 
 1848, should teach French politicians that the acute and resolute 
 nation they so insolently seek to mislead will not suffer its dig 
 nity, its interests, or its destinies, longer to be tampered with, or 
 betrayed. 
 
 The future of France, and the safety of the community, were 
 in the hands of the Prince Louis Napoleon in November, '51, and 
 everything depended on the decision he came to. If he thought 
 it best to .abide the close of his Presidential term, May, '52, he 
 was certain to be re-elected by an overwhelming vote against all 
 competitors. 
 
 It was already settled, in that case, amongst the party leaders of 
 the Assembly, to ignore his election, and to set up some man of 
 their own. That resource was hopeless, for there was no chance 
 of their agreeing together. This was plainly proved, for, in 
 November, they voted to protect themselves against the President, 
 by organizing an army of defence, but they fell out as to the 
 General who should command it. The Monarchists insisted on 
 General Changarnier, but the Republicans called for General 
 Cavaignac. The same thing would have ensued if the Assembly 
 had attempted to choose a President of the Republic. Each party 
 would have adhered to its own candidate, and the country mean 
 while would have fallen into anarchy. If anything was to be done 
 to prevent this frightful result, it must have been done at once. 
 
 The nation, standing quite aloof from the handful of politicians 
 whom it had repudiated, called on the Prince Louis Napoleon to 
 anticipate the dread signal of civil war, and to take the Govern 
 ment, momentarily, into his hands. The Army, whose patriotism 
 made them nothing more than the exponents of the popular
 
 220 THE DIE CAST. 
 
 sentiment, and the instruments of the popular voice this same 
 Army, which in 1830 refused to fight for Charles X. against the 
 nation, and which, also, in 1848, marched out of Paris at the 
 popular demand now manifested its sympathies for the man to 
 whom the finger of the nation emphatically pointed. And Louis 
 Napoleon, if he was not appalled at the magnitude of the crisis, if 
 his reason was not confounded, nor his heart smitten with doubt, 
 had no alternative. If his courage was firm, and his patriotism 
 equal to risk of life and loss of name, there was nothing left but 
 to march boldly into the Temple, and dismiss the umvorihy band 
 who had denied it.
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 My quarter's salary came round again on the first of July, and 
 I set off once more for London, as anxious as ever to know what 
 were the mystical intentions of the Foreign Office concerning me ; 
 but, sobered by my past experience, I found myself less inclined to 
 employ any rash expedient to force a solution which I might, 
 peradventure, obtain by more indirect means. It stood to reason 
 that persons of such vast diplomatic experience as those at the 
 bead of the Foreign Office, and in the daily habit of threading 
 their entangled way through all sorts of mazy complications, where 
 all the resources of artifice and duplicity were skilfully put into 
 requisition, were not to be driven into a corner and made to avow 
 their hidden purpose by the onslaught, however unexpected, of a 
 subaltern like myself, albeit energetic and determined on effecting 
 his object. I had discovered that much already, and saw the ne 
 cessity of altering my tactics. 
 
 It would require no little ingenuity, combined with a copious 
 mixture of perseverance and sagacity, I felt aware, to escape from 
 my present position in a manner satisfactory to myself. I pre 
 ferred quitting it, ten times over, to retaining it under the sus- 
 p'cions attached to me, but deeply conscious that I had exerted 
 myself to the utmost to serve all parties, and equally convinced 
 that my efforts had not been thrown away, I felt it my due to know
 
 228 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 why and how I had given dissatisfaction. An explanation I con 
 sidered necessary to prevent my falling a victim to some artful 
 intrigue, or some plausible calumny. I had received the most un 
 equivocal approbation for my successful endeavours to soften the 
 asperities of the French press towards England, and there was 
 nothing left, therefore, to find fault with but the view I had taken 
 of the true policy of the Foreign Office towards the United States. 
 If this were so, and to tell the truth I had got information to 
 justify my thinking so, whose fault was it that any misconception 
 had arisen ? 
 
 I explained my mind on this point most distinctly to Lord Pal- 
 merston at Broadlands, when he seemed entirely to agree with me. 
 Had he thought fit to disguise at that time his real opinions, or 
 had he since then come to new and opposite conclusions ? In 
 every case I felt my right was unquestionable to press for some 
 sufficient explanation to account for the strange conduct pursued. 
 Besides, I had abandoned other engagements of great value, which 
 I was ready to prove, to accept the functions that Lord Palmerston 
 had thrust on me, and it was unreasonable to expect that I would 
 be bowed abruptly out of the Foreign Office without inquiry or 
 complaint. I considered myself ill-treated, and I leave my readers 
 to judge if I had not some adequate grounds ; but I admit frankly 
 that my temper was not in the least soured. 
 
 Having recovered from my first emotions of surprise,' perhaps a 
 little mixed with chagrin to see my zeal all wasted, I had gradually 
 worked myself into rather a merry mood at the circuitous method 
 and needless strategems employed to effect an object so easily 
 despatched by simpler means. It was not to be expected, how 
 ever, that the Foreign Office, the very fountain head of diplomacy, 
 would do things in a straightforward way whilst a possibility
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 223 
 
 existed for a display of its peculiar craft ; so that I was not only 
 resigned to all forms of procrastination, but constantly on the qid 
 vive for new and instructive exhibitions of diplomatic " magic and 
 mystery." 
 
 During the three months elapsed, I had thrown away no 
 occasion where I could render service, but I certainly worked with 
 far less zest under the discouragement I had received. I kept up 
 occasional calls at the Embassy in Paris, and was always cordia ly 
 'received by Mr. Edwardes, though I found him a good deal less 
 confiding in his tone and remarks than of yore. Whether this 
 arose from any hint he may have received from head-quarters, or 
 grew out of the perplexed state of his mind as to my ultimate 
 fate, and the mystery that hung over it, I cannot tell, but he no 
 longer indulged in those confidential moods that used to seize him 
 of old, when, with great frankness and no small discernment, he 
 commented somewhat sarcastically on men and things. Far be it 
 from me to abuse these friendly communings. 
 
 I called ou Mr. Addington the day after my arrival in London, 
 and was received by that very estimable, but exceedingly formal 
 gentleman, with such unusual demonstrations of courtesy, that I 
 felt satisfied at once that the shaft so long held in poise was now 
 to be launched against my official existence. And sure enough, 
 no sooner were the customary preliminaries of check-giving and 
 receipt- signing over, than Mr. Addington asked me with a pleasant 
 tone to be seated. 
 
 " I am instructed," he began, without preface, but with much 
 gravity, " on the part of Lord Palmerston, to say, that your 
 engagement with the Foreign Office will close at the end of the 
 year from the time it began that is, on the first of October 
 next."
 
 224 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 I waited a moment, almost expecting him to add the usual 
 complement to a judicial sentence, "And may the Lord have 
 mercy on you." 
 
 Finding that he had done, I inclined ray head in acquiescence, 
 and said : 
 
 " If such be his Lordship's pleasure, I must submit to it with 
 all grace ; but, inasmuch as I have occasionally received praise for 
 my services, and have never yet had any fault found, would it be 
 considered too bold to ask in what manner I have given dis 
 satisfaction ?" 
 
 " Indeed, I cannot answer you," returned Mr. Addington, with 
 an air of candour, " for his Lordship has given me no information 
 on the subject. I was merely requested to convey to you notice 
 of the cessation of the engagement." 
 
 " Well, I must say, if I can do so without offence," I persisted, 
 ''that it is rather a singular proceeding. His Lordship offers me 
 the engagement without solicitation ; I accepted it at a sacrifice, 
 which I stated at the time, and now, without any reason alleged, 
 I am summarily dismissed. If his Lordship was at all given 
 to caprice, I should be at no loss to account for it, bat I am 
 satisfied there must be some urgent motive for the act." 
 
 " Why, the fact is," replied Mr. Addington, who seemed 
 anxious to relieve my perplexity, " Mr. Hume and his allies in 
 Parliament make such determined attacks every year on our 
 Government expenditure, that I should not be surprised if Lord 
 Palmerston thought a little retrenchment was necessary." 
 
 The pretext was futile enough, for the Foreign Office thinks 
 little of lavishing a fe\7 thousands when il has a purpose in view ; 
 and my salary of a few hundreds would never have aroused it3 
 susceptibilities, if no other motive than economy was at the 
 bottom.
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 225 
 
 " If his Lordslrip really thought," T said to Mr. Addington, 
 with an incredulous smile, ' that my salary was beyond my 
 deserts, why rather than part on so frivolous a ground, I would 
 request him to guage it according to his fancy." 
 
 " Well, really," returned Mr. Addington, getting uneasy at 
 having been betrayed into a surmise, " I don't know anything 
 about the matter. I was simply instructed to notify you in the 
 manner I have done, and no reason for so doing was added." 
 
 " Under these circumstances," I concluded, rising, " it would 
 be inconsiderate to encroach longer on your time, or to put you to 
 the trouble of speculating further as to Lord Palmerston's motives. 
 Perhaps, I may yet be favoured with some statement of them from 
 himself." Mr. Addington seemed inclined to say, " Perhaps you 
 won't," to judge from his countenance, but he refrained from so 
 incautious a phrase, and bowed me out with, the same marked 
 civility with which he had received me. 
 
 I began to feel not a little piqued at making so many efforts, 
 supported by the stoutest resolution, and yet without the least 
 perceptible progress towards the grand solution I had set my heart 
 upon. Here was I, finally, cut loose from my moorings, and 
 drifting down the tide towards the vortex of nothingness that 
 must swallow me, without so much as being able to clutch hold of 
 a straw to afford me the fleeting satisfaction of knowing which 
 way the wind really blew. By degrees I fell to thinking I had under 
 rated my calling all this time, and that there was, really, something 
 in Diplomacy after all. It remained to be seen, though, if it were 
 of such inflexible material as to resist the battering ram of my legi 
 timate curiosity, and I set to work meditating what step I had 
 better take next. 
 
 Fortunately I was on intimate terms with a friend of Lord Pal-
 
 226 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 merston, a very amiable and most sagacious gentleman, the late 
 Mr. Peter Borthwick, M.P. I resolved instanter to lay my case 
 before him, and solicit his intervention. I did so. He listened 
 with his usual urbanity, and remarked at the close that he was 
 quite sure that Lord Palmerston, as a matter of comity, would not 
 hesitate to give me some explanation of his desire to put an end 
 to my engagement, and the more so as I had no wish to prolong 
 it. He was kind enough to say he would see Lord Palmerston on 
 the subject, and let me know the result. 
 
 Mr. Borthwick was as good as his word, as all remember who 
 knew him that he invariably was, and two or three days after he did 
 me the favor of a visit. Mr. Borthwick stated that Lord Paimerston 
 greatly regretted he had not bad the pleasure of seeing me on my 
 previous visit (whereat I winced a littlej, but that he could see no 
 objection in the world to conversing with me on the notice he had 
 given me, and that if I would oblige him so much as to call at his 
 house in Carlton Gardens, on Wednesday next, at 12 o'clock 
 punctually, he would have great satisfaction at receiving me. I 
 thanked Mr. Borthwick cordially for his kind offices, and secretly 
 applauded myself for calling his influential aid into requisition. 
 Mr. Borthwick added, that Lord Palmerston was too busy when he 
 met him to talk about the matter in hand ; but that he accorded 
 the interview asked in the readiest manner, and he had no doubt 
 that I would be entirely satisfied with my reception. 
 
 I congratulated myself on my perseverance, which had, at last, 
 brought its due reward ; but at the same time I was so much 
 flattered at the noble Secretary of State's yielding to my wish, 
 that I decided on accepting deferentially whatever eclaircissement 
 he should deem fit to make, and so let the matter drop. After 
 all, I cared far less to worry his Lordship into assigning a cause
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 227 
 
 for my exit from the Foreign Office, that, really, had no charms 
 for me, than to receive from him at parting that courtesy which he 
 had extended to me at meeting, and which, certainly, I had in no 
 wise forfeited. My pride rebelled at being sent off like an ill- 
 behaved servant without a character, as it were, when I had made 
 such strenuous and loyal efforts to promote the good of all. 
 
 I did not fail, of course, to present myself at his Lordship's 
 house, in Carlton Gardens, at noon on the Wednesday designated 
 by Mr. Borthwick ; when, on sending in my name, the servant re 
 turned with the concise message that " His Lordship was not at 
 home." 
 
 " There must be some mistake," I said to the footman, " for 
 his Lordship was to give me an interview to-day at this hour." 
 
 " His Lordship is not at home," was politely repeated by the 
 powdered lackey ; whereupon I withdrew, consigned once more to 
 a limbo of endless speculation. 
 
 Convinced there must be some mal entendu I wrote immediately 
 to his Lordship to say that Mr. Borthwick had informed me that 
 his Lordship had named Wednesday at noon for an interview ; but 
 that as business might have interfered, would his Lordship be 
 pleased to let me know when it would suit his convenience to 
 receive me. Lord Palmerston did not condescend to reply to me, 
 so I was left to infer that the extraordinary rebuff I had suffered, 
 the first of the kind it had ever been my fate to encounter, was 
 nothing more or less than another ingenious diplomatic device to clap 
 an extinguisher on my presumptuous expectations. Wonderful and 
 inscrutable are thy ways, O Diplomacy, was my awe-stricken re 
 flection, as, shaking the dust of London from my feet, I dashed off 
 to Switzerland to try the effect of its bracing air on my jaded
 
 228 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 spirits and shattered nerves, for this last and most unexpected 
 " flooring" had for the nonce quite unmanned me. 
 
 The experiments I had previously undergone at the Foreign 
 Office in April, were a species of slow, protracted torment, that 
 after a time became bearable ; but a sudden prostration from such 
 a height as his Lordship had so cleverly led me up to, was a blow 
 so stunning as to paralyse me for a time, and my recovery was 
 lingering and precarious. There was no boy's play about Lord Pal- 
 merston's diplomatic mode of administering "a pum'sher," I began 
 to perceive, as I slowly regained my senses ; and this is one of the 
 prominent characteristics of this remarkable man. But, en revanche, 
 he is sportive, even in his grimmest moments, and nothing is more 
 common for him than to utter a pungent witticism over the fallen 
 body of the victim he has just fearlessly demolished. 
 
 I did not throw away my time in Switzerland, as I have else 
 where recorded, but in the course of several interviews at Geneva 
 with Mr. James Fazy, the leading radical of the Cantons, a poli 
 tician of great influence and superior capacity, I took occasion to 
 enforce those doctrines of pacific progress which I believed to be 
 the true policy of Western Europe. 
 
 Mr. Fazy manifested the heartiest disposition to draw closer the 
 alliance of the Cantons with England and France, but naturally 
 displayed great repugnance to the repressive policy of Austria, 
 which only kept the spirit of insurrection alive, wherever its Go 
 vernment extended. I entered into some details respecting the 
 character and policy of Lord Palmerston, whom Mr. Fazy greatly 
 admired, but the devious windings of whose diplomacy the Ge- 
 nevese Eadical did not, like many others, always understand. 
 
 I explained the position of England as one of great difficulty, 
 requiring a masterly hand to conduct it safely along its course, both 
 

 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 229 
 
 at home and abroad. The foreign policy of the noble Lord at a 
 period so critical as the present was, seemingly, inconsistent 
 according to the changing position of things. He was anxious to 
 promote the political transformation of Europe nearer to an identity 
 with English institutions, for this must necessarily develope 
 commercial progress, to the certain advantage of English products ; 
 but he was equally obliged, for cogent reasons, to avoid tampering 
 indiscreetly with the domestic affairs of other nations. It was ne 
 cessary to steer with great skill and delicacy between considerations 
 like these; .but I remarked that, in my humble opinion, no English 
 statesman ever lived so admirably qualified as the noble Minister 
 for Foreign Affairs for such a task. Mr. Fazy concurred in my 
 point of view, and I left him with his favourable impression of 
 Lord Palmerston none the weaker for what I had said. 
 
 On my return to Paris I went on with my usual avocations, and 
 kept up my rounds in journalistic and other circles ; for I considered 
 it only proper, as long as I was in the pay of the Foreign Office, 
 that I should give some quid pro quo. 
 
 In the beginning of October I paid my last visit, as I thought, 
 to Mr. AddingtoninDowning-street, and received my last quarter's 
 salary, as I supposed. My visit was short, though pleasant enough. 
 I thought it quite useless to try my hand again on Mr. Addington, 
 for there was hardly a weapon in the whole armoury of wheedling 
 he was not familiar with. I was loth, indeed, to give him up in so 
 unsatisfactory a way ; but as my eye made its circuit round him, 
 there was something, it struck me, so impenetrable and granite-like 
 in his manner and remarks that I was fain to fall back on an 
 American simile by comparing myself to a "juvenile musquito 
 pecking at the rock of Gibraltar." 
 
 I ventured to say, " I have not been lucky enough to see Lord 
 Palmerston yet.''
 
 230 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 " I am not surprised," replied Mr. Addington, " he is always 
 so busy." 
 
 "And yet," I continued, " he always finds time for everything." 
 
 " He is wonderfully active," rejoined Mr. Addington evasively. 
 
 Before quitting him I dropped a remark or so upon Kossuth, 
 who had just then arrived in England from his Eastern bondage, 
 whence Lord Palmerston had the credit of delivering him. For 
 the first time Mr. Addington exhibited some warmth of manner, 
 and I was relieved to see he had a sentient spot about him, how 
 ever invisible to mortal eyes. He talked for a moment with some 
 thing like vehemence, but it would be in bad taste, of course, to 
 repeal what he said. 
 
 It is certain that Kossuth turned out a different kind of importa 
 tion from what the Foreign Office had expected ; and I think people, 
 generally, were surprised at his beginning so. hastily his bellicose 
 propaganda. The publication he made at Marseilles of his sympathy 
 with the .Revolutionary party, and his antipathy to Louis Napoleon, 
 President of the Republic, was considered, I remember, by his 
 friends, as indiscreet, to say the least. 
 
 After Mr. Addington, for once, had spoken his mind, he wound 
 up by saying, 
 
 " Well, I am glad he is going to your country." 
 
 Not knowing whether he meant this in kindness or the contrary, 
 I hesitated whether to thank him or not. 
 
 " Is that because you wish to get rid of him ? " I asked. 
 
 " No, but I think it will be all the better for himself to get 
 there as soon as he can." 
 
 How so?" 
 
 " Why, I don't know if it is an effect of your atmosphere or not, 
 but people seem to come faster to their level there, up or down, as
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 231 
 
 the case may be, than in other places. Most of our European ce 
 lebrities, T observe, soon evaporate there, and trouble the world no 
 more with their greatness." 
 
 I was struck with Mr. Addington's just appreciation, which I 
 have conveyed in meaning, if not exactly in his own words ; and I 
 was really glad to see that an Under Secretary of State of the 
 Foreign Office had begun, at last, to turn a little of his attention 
 towards the United States, by no means a common thing of yore. 
 I expressed myself in complimentary language to this effect, and 
 added, 
 
 " It is just as you say, Mr. Addington. In the United States 
 we have nothing for great men to do or talk about, and they no 
 sooner get there than they find their occupation gone. We give 
 them a Charivari on arriving, declare unlimited sympathy for the 
 lofty intentions we give them credit for, and then turn round 
 to our business, and expect them to attend to theirs." 
 
 Mr. Addington smiled knowingly at this confirmation of his 
 views, which led him, perhaps, to think, that in spite of former 
 doubts, the United States were not, peradventure, created utterly 
 in vain ; and that Providence, in its bounty, might even have meant 
 to benefit the Monarchies of the Old World by making America an 
 swer the purpose of a sort of quarantine, where a lot of pestilential 
 demagogues were rapidly restored by democratic treatment to their 
 long-lost common sense. Mr. Addington said nothing of the 
 kind, and may never have thought it ; but I inferred that some 
 such reflections may have wandered through his mind, to judge 
 from the serene expression of his countenance whilst I was speaking. 
 
 I bid adieu to this amiable and accomplished functionary with 
 sincere respect, and I should be truly sorry if my unceremonious 
 use of his name gave him the least annoyance ; but he must sea
 
 232 THE DENOUEMENT,, 
 
 ho\v impossible it was to omit him in any faithful narration of my 
 temporary connection with the Foreign Office. 
 
 In compliance with the intimation I had received in July, and with, 
 the payment of my last quarter's salary, my eventful relations with 
 H. B. M. Government ceased ; still, I was not at all reconciled 
 to the modus operandi employed. I felt myself perfectly justified, 
 under all the circumstances of the case having been invited by 
 Lord Palmerston to join the Foreign Office having sacrificed other 
 engagements to do so, and having acquitted myself to the best 
 of my poor abilities, whether usefully or not, whilst there I say I 
 felt myself fully justified in remonstrating against the sans faqon 
 manner I had been treated. I was, therefore, emboldened to make 
 another, if not a final effort, to induce Lord Palmerston to throw 
 me, at least, a crumb of civility before entirely losing sight of him. 
 
 Besides, I was aware that his Lordship, with all his fondness 
 for a practical joke, was, as far as a great statesman can ever be,, 
 a just-minded and good-hearted man enough ; and that having had 
 his share of fun out of me, he might be induced to treat me with, 
 a little ordinary courtesy, if I could only manage to touch his sense 
 of propriety. I was sensible it was no easy job to arrive at that, 
 for how can a politician, much more a Minister of State, ever suf 
 fer himself to be guided by those nice and delicate perceptions 
 that influence well-bred people, without running the risk of com 
 promising that official exclusiveness, that proud isolation, in which 
 it is convenient, if not agreeable, for them to live. 
 
 A great man in office must keep himself at a proper altitude 
 above the common herd, else he would lose his necessary prestige, 
 besides undergoing endless invasions from "outside barbarians ;" and 
 there is no way for him to accomplish all this so effectually as blunt 
 ing his mind, and extinguishing his sensibilities to the usual stand-
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 233 
 
 ards of social commerce. He is obliged to protect iiiraself by a cho- 
 naux de frieze of diplomacy, and to report to every artifice of defence, 
 if lie be not driven, at last, to the dire extremity of prostrating his 
 pursuer by officially banging the door in his face. I had regularly 
 gone through all these stages of diplomatic repulsion, as I have 
 honestly related, and it is a miracle that I did not sink under it ; but 
 the justice of my cause inspired me, and I still clung to the hope 
 that if ever I could contrive to get behind the official ramparts 
 which concealed the diplomatist, I should have little or no difficulty 
 in convincing the gentleman that I had a case to be; heard, if not a 
 demand to be accorded. 
 
 I passed nearly the whole month, of October in London, medi 
 tating and devising some plan to effect a breach in the walls of 
 Downing Street, and having weighed and examined every possible 
 mode of attack, I sat down, at last, with my ideas fully matured, 
 and indited another urgent appeal to the illustrious Viscount. I 
 took care not to throw away a single chance of success, and though 
 I was less solicitous about pecuniary reparation than for the explana 
 tion I had most at heart, still, I did not omit to remind his Lordship, 
 that, in my first letter after leaving Broadlands, accepting his offer, 
 I spoke distinctly of other advantages I should renounce, and which 
 I held myself ready to prove. 
 
 Sometimes, considerations that partake of a legal claim are suc 
 cessful with practical men, when mere moral or sentimental views are 
 regarded as abstract and of no weight. So I thought, at least, 
 when with the utmost delicacy I recalled this fact to his Lordship's 
 recollection, trusting that such a proof of my alacrity to espouse 
 his views, entitled me, if not to substantial remuneration, at all 
 events, to some amende honorable. 
 
 1 forwarded my statement to the noble Lord, confiding less in the
 
 234 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 force of my reasoning than in the moderation of my tone, which 
 he could hardly think other than creditable to me, after the eccen 
 tric courses that had been adopted towards me. Nearly a month 
 elapsed, and I began to believe my case utterly desperate, when a 
 reply, in the familiar hand of Mr. Addington, was transmitted to me. 
 There was no mistaking, for a moment, the authorship of this docu 
 ment. There was an ingenuity and adroitness in its statements 
 and style, so characteristic of the noble Minister for Foreign 
 Affairs, that I perceived, at once, Mr. Addington had done nothing 
 more than copy out the original sketch. 
 
 His Lordship, first, took care to state, in perspicuous language, 
 the motive of my engagement ; then, pleasantly sought to diminish 
 its importance, if any, by hinting that my communications were but 
 few with "this office," leaving out, as superfluous, any mention of 
 my daily visits to the Embassy at Paris for months. The gentle 
 intimation conveyed in the simple words, that " no further 
 benefit was likely to result from my services," contain a whole 
 volume of meaning. I saw it clearly enough, that the "pacific 
 policy " I had sought to enforce, in my American correspondence, 
 was not, as I had other reasons for knowing, the " pacific policy " 
 his Lordship at all meant. His peace policy towards the United 
 States, I discovered, was of that rather doubtful description, as never 
 to preclude a chance of war, if it did not really seek to provoke it. 
 
 My humble notions of a " pacific policy" between England 
 and the United States went much further. Seeing every reason, 
 under heaven, for these two countries to remain united, I endea 
 voured to inaugurate a policy that would make war well nigh an im 
 possibility. I was aware, to be sure, that this would not be accept 
 able to politicians or diplomatists, who thrive, chiefly, on the dis 
 cord of nations; but I thought that Lord Palmerston measured the
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 235 
 
 wisdom of not compromising such vast interests for the sake of the 
 excitement afforded, or for displaying his skill in keeping alive old 
 points of dispute, whilst playfully seeking to create new ones. 
 
 It was plain enough, my ideas of founding a "pacific policy" 
 were not congenial to his Lordship, and, consequently, he reminds me 
 that engagements like mine, " are, in their very nature, temporary 
 and dependent on circumstances." 
 
 I found no fault with the doctrine, and it was quite enough for his 
 Lordship to break off with me, when he once began to doubt the 
 utility of my services. Quamdiu dene se gesserint was, I admit, the 
 real tenure of such an engagement as mine. 
 
 I never dreamt of fastening myself upon, his Lordship at th 
 Foreign Office, else I would have taken the usual mode of seeking 
 to ascertain the notions entertained at head quarters and of carrying 
 them out, fas aut ncfas. It would have been presumption, indeed, 
 in a subordinate to do otherwise ; but on the subject of a " pacific 
 policy" with the United States, Lord Palmerston left me the widest 
 margin, confiding, as I thought, in my superior knowledge of my 
 own country. 
 
 His Lordship's radical error was in not defining, distinctly, in 
 his first conversation with me at Broadlands, what were his views 
 of a " liberal and pacific policy" with the United States, His 
 diplomatic habit of caution on that occasion involved him in a 
 somewhat serious entanglement ; for I would have declined the 
 honor extended to me, if I had not thought his Lordship meant, 
 even at the expense of losing his best ckeval de bataille, to give up 
 the old system of bickering with the United States, and establish 
 a cordial and permanent alliance. This is the way I understood 
 him as regarded France, and was praised for my discernment. The 
 rule, evidently, did not work both ways.
 
 236 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 His Lordship, however, closed his letter by a very handsome act, 
 which was quite as characteristic as the rest. The noble Viscount, 
 in his moments of levity, may be jocose ; or in the hurry of business, 
 or in the ardor of debate, may be a little imperious, or a deal too 
 pungent, but never, under any circumstances, is he wanting in 
 generosity or capable of petty calculations. He thought fit, as a 
 matter of tact, not to recollect the advantages I had spoken of 
 having renounced at the beginning, and it was with his usual love of 
 a jest that he expressed his confidence that he had not " bound 
 himself to make good such renunciation." Of course not. Who 
 ever heard of Lord Palmerston binding himself in advance to do 
 anything he might not like to do when the time came ? 
 
 I must have commented enough on the letter in question to have 
 piqued my reader's curiosity ; and shall, therefore, give it without 
 further preface. 
 
 Foreign Office, November 24, 1851 
 Sin- 
 In reply to the letter which you addressed to Viscount 
 Palmerston on tlie 31st of October, I am directed to observe to you 
 that the sole object of the arrangement which his Lordship made 
 with you, in the autumn of last year, was to make known clearly, 
 through the medium of the French and the United States press, the 
 liberal, and especially the pacific character, of the policy of Her 
 Majesty's Government. 
 
 How far that object has been attained Lord Palmerston is unable 
 to judge, as your communications with this office, since the corn- 
 men cement of your engagement, have been but few. His Lordship 
 is wi lling, however, to befieve that your services may have contributed 
 to forward the desired end. 
 
 But you must be well aware that engagements of this kind are, 
 in their very nature, temporary and dependent on circumstances, 
 and Lord Palmerston having seen reason to be satisfied that no 
 further benefit was likely to result from your exertions, and per 
 ceiving, also, that economy required that services of doubtful utility
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 23? 
 
 should no longer be continued at a considerable cbarge, caused an 
 announcement to be made to you, at least as long ago as the month 
 of July last, that the arrangement made with you would terminate 
 with the termination of this year. 
 
 Lord Palmerston has no recollection whatever of your having de 
 clared to him, at any time, that, in order to devote your attention to 
 the object he had in view, you would be obliged to renounce other 
 advantages present or prospective ; but he is confident that he in no 
 way bound himself to make good such renunciation. 
 
 I am, therefore, directed to state to you that Lord Palmerston con- 
 sidei-s that the engagement taken with you would properly cease, as 
 already announced to you, with the close of this year; but in order 
 that you may have a full twelve months notice of its cessation, he will 
 continue until the end of June next the rate of payment which you 
 have already received, and on the 30th of June that allowance will 
 accordingly cease altogether. 
 
 I am, Sir, your obedient 
 
 and humble servant, 
 
 H. U. ADDINGTON. 
 HENRY WIKOFF, Esq[. 
 
 The only thing that perplexed me in this letter was the evident 
 intention of its nob'e author to prolong ray connection with the 
 Foreign Office, by continuing my quarterly payments of salary in 
 stead of giving, as originally proposed through Mr. Edvvardes, 
 " a sum of money down." What could be the motive of this 
 new whim ? Did Lord Palmerston begin in his heart to regret 
 stripping me of my functions from a premature apprehension of 
 my inutility, or was it an ingenious method to ensure my good 
 behaviour ad interim ? 
 
 The latter was not unlikely, for I had reason to know that the 
 noble Secretary of State entertained some fear that I might allow 
 my recent relations with the Foreign Office to transpire, which 
 would be an annoyance to him, if nothing more. This was an
 
 238 THE DENOUEMENT. 
 
 idle dread, however ; for though I had no reason to conceal my 
 connection with the Foreign Office, I was by no means so proud 
 of it as to desire to make it public so, if the continuance of my 
 salary for nine months longer was, in fact, ' hush money," it was 
 entirely thrown away. If I had been ambitious of notoriety, or 
 even of a vindictive temper, certes, I had grounds enough for 
 public complaint in the " deep damnation" of my " taking off," 
 and his Lordship is not aware to this hour how far it might be in 
 my power to gratify the morbid appetite of gossip-mongers ; for, I 
 repeat, that my connection with the Foreign Office and its hangers- 
 on was long enough to initiate me into many of its mysteries, care 
 fully concealed from the oi polloi. 
 
 Such unscrupulousness as this, however, would be justified by 
 no extent of provocation, and I give the proof in the harmless re 
 cital I have made of my late relations with the Foreign Office, after 
 the singular persecution I have since undergone at the hands of 
 its accredited agents, and which I am about to lay before my 
 readers. 
 
 Finally, I bad abundant reason to congratulate myself on the 
 success that crowned my steady efforts to obtain from Lord Pal- 
 merston, if not a distinct avowal of his secret motives, at all events 
 such an honorable discharge from his employment as satisfied all 
 my requirements. It was my determination to accomplish this 
 from the outset, and for a novice I had no reason to blush for the 
 result of my first " set to " with the Foreign Office, which is not 
 in the habit of suffering defeat, if any means, however harsh, can 
 avert it. I was so entirely content with the victory I had gained 
 that I should have gone my way quietly, chanting palmam qui 
 meruit ferat, and neither the noble Viscount or the world at large 
 would ever likely have heard of me again.
 
 THE DENOUEMENT. 239 
 
 A different fate, however, was reserved for me. An event, quite 
 as unlocked for as my late diplomatic functions, befell me, 
 affording the Foreign Office an occasion to pay me off for acts of 
 presumptuous inquisitiveness, not easily forgotten, that was too 
 tempting to resist ; and I had reason to expiate at my leisure the 
 folly of ever having risked its dread displeasure, and to bewail 
 the cruel destiny that ever led me to offer my services to pro 
 mote the " liberal, especially the pacific policy of Her Britannic 
 Majesty's Government" in France and the United States. I re 
 serve, for another chapter, the strange history to which I am 
 alluding.
 
 240 A PRETEXT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A PRETEXT. 
 
 A volume entitled "My Courtship and its Consequences," which 
 appeared in London in the spring of 1855, imparted to some por 
 tion of the reading public the details of a somewhat romantic story. 
 The author, it was stated, had made the acquaintance, in May, 
 1835, of a lady, then a resident of Russell Square, London. The 
 most cordial relations existed between them for a peniod of five 
 years, when the parties lost sight of each other for an interval that 
 extended up to April, 1851. Accident again brought them 
 together, and their former intimacy was renewed. This time, 
 however, the gentleman paid his addresses in due form, and, after 
 sundry eccentricities of conduct on both sides, was received as a 
 suitor, and, finally, rewarded by his inamorata with the solemn 
 pledge of her hand, amid the usual tokens of a deep affection. 
 The " course of true love never did run smooth ; " and it so 
 turned out upon this occasion, for the lady in question, upon some 
 idle plea, suddenly resolved to postpone the marriage already agreed 
 upon, and almost upon the day of her intended nuptials she left 
 London for a winter's sojourn in Italy. 
 
 She soon, however, repented of her cruelty, and gave way to mani 
 fest signs of remorse, which were all duly conveyed to the victim of 
 "hope deferred" by a sympathetic Figaro in the lady's train, and 
 the joyful swain flew on the wiugs of love to overtake his fair
 
 A PRETEXT. 241 
 
 tormentor, ready, in the overflowing of his fondness, to forget the 
 past and to guarantee the future by their immediate union. Alas! 
 the lady was still fitful, and his presence only fanned the flame of 
 rebellion which broke out anew. The desperate lover sought to re 
 monstrate, but the capricious dame refused him an interview, and 
 in his extremity he resorted to the well-known expedient of a 
 stratagem, and thus succeeded in beholding once more the cherished 
 features of his Dulcinea. 
 
 By dint of protestation, entreaty, and ruse, the persevering 
 Quixotte again carried his point, and the vanquished fair gave this 
 time an earnest proof of her confiding fondness in according, by 
 an unequivocal and decisive act, her prompt and generous forgive 
 ness for his thoughtless but really flattering devotion.* "All's well 
 that ends well," sang the exhilarated lover; but his cup of proba 
 tion was not yet full. Sad to relate ! his fickle betrothed again 
 changed her mind, and by a series of acts, totally unpremeditated, 
 she succeeded, finally, in lodging the victim of her inconstancy in the 
 cheerless cell of an Italian prison, ou the harsh accusation of 
 " abduction." 
 
 She repented still more quickly than before, and all might yet 
 have gone as merry " as a marriage bell " if a horrible dragon had 
 not interposed, barbarously exacting that Juliet should still wear 
 her spinster's costume, whilst poor Romeo should be consigned to 
 the lingering horrors of fifteen months' imprisonment in a Genoese 
 jail. "Can such things be and not excite our special wonder?" 
 Though stranger than fiction, the story is true, for the heroine was 
 Miss Jane C. Gamble, of Portland Place ; the hero, the luck 
 less individual now reciting his misfortunes ; and the dragon, 
 
 Vide page 196 of "My Courtship and its Consequences."
 
 242 A PRETEXT. 
 
 not an infuriated father, not a relentless guardian, but the identical 
 Foreign Office that, since September, 1851, had played so pro 
 minent a part in the author's adventures. 
 
 Whoever will take the trouble to refer to the already quoted 
 volume, <c My Courtship and its Consequences,"* will see that I 
 have told " a round, unvarnished tale ; " and before I close this 
 chapter I hope to adduce sufficient proof to show that I have 
 all along dealt in sober fact, and not in the subtle weavings of 
 an excited imagination. 
 
 Miss Gamble's motive in lodging a complaint against her lover's 
 romantic folly, it is difficult to explain ; but having determined on 
 doing so, she sought ths aid of the British Consul at Genoa. 
 Though a native of the United States, she was domiciled in Eng 
 land, and this led her, no doubt, to give the preference to the 
 latter rather than to her legitimate representative, the United 
 States' Consul at that place. It so happened, to the misfortune of 
 all parties, that Her Britannic Majesty's agent at Genoa, rejoicing 
 in the euphonious appellation of Timothy Brown, was an eccentric 
 compound of odd ingredients, in which, unluckily, humanity and 
 common sense had no share whatever. No sooner had Miss 
 Gamble laid her case before him than, without stopping a moment 
 to verify it, he obtained a consular order of arrest, and, according 
 to the custom of the country, threw me headlong into a filthy 
 prison. 
 
 The intervention of a Bow Street Magistrate would have stayed 
 snch a despotic use of consular authority ; and I marvel that Sar 
 dinia, with her love of progress, has not transplanted so wholesome 
 a protection to the liberty of the subject. The impetuous spring of 
 
 * Published in London in 1852.
 
 A PRETEXT. 243 
 
 the consular tiger on her quondam lamb naturally shocked Miss 
 Gamble, and her gentle thought was now to rescue her late pet from 
 his sorry plight. She appealed, at first, to the pity of the omni 
 potent Brown, but her delicate fingers failed to find the chord; 
 whereon, rising from supplication, she cried 
 
 " Beware ! your intended victim is an agent of the Foreign Office, 
 and a friend of Lord Palmerston." 
 
 This was, indeed, a startling announcement, and the terror- 
 struck Timothy shivered for a moment at his rashness. Reflection 
 intervened. 
 
 " What," he exclaimed, " a Yankee in our Foreign Office ! Has 
 the millennium come ? and do lions and nondescripts lay down 
 together at last ? Has John Bull so far forgot his self-respect ? 
 and is he so blind to his safety as to admit this new Trojan horse 
 within his gates ? The thing is impossible !" 
 
 "It is true," ejaculated Miss Gamble, dauntless in my defence. 
 
 " The proof," demanded my grim jailor, unwilling to yield his 
 prize. 
 
 " Seek it yourself," was the reply. 
 
 I have briefly paraphrased the exciting scenes that rapidly fol 
 lowed my incarceration between Miss Gamble and the implacable 
 Consul. Up to this moment my connection with Lord Palmerston 
 had remained a profound secret to all save my affianced bride ; and 
 I had imparted it to her, as in duty bound, with every injunction 
 of caution. It" was only in her extremity that she revealed the 
 fact, which I never, certainly, would have condescended to make 
 known to a petty consular agent at Genoa. 
 
 An interregnum ensued. The strange news of the extraordinary 
 capture he had made was instantly forwarded by the excited Brown 
 to Her Majesty's Minister at Turin, Mr. James Hudson, who, in 
 
 ' B
 
 244 A PIvLTEXT. 
 
 turn, was shaken from his propriety by the singular information 
 that the alleged abductor of Miss Gamble was said to be in the 
 employ of the Foreign Office. Proceedings were stayed till an 
 investigation was made. Away flew the intelligence of my mtsa- 
 venture from Turin to London, and Lord Palmerston, probably, 
 never had a more agreeable surprise than when he discovered his 
 'tarnal Yankee employe so safely in his clutches. 
 
 It must have struck him as a special dispensation of Providence. 
 I] is only anxiety for months past had been to get rid of me, and 
 numberless expedients were tried, as I have recorded, for that end, 
 when, a long-deferred act of civility had accomplished what diplo 
 macy had failed to effect. Still, an apprehension must have lingered 
 in his Lordship's mind, lest some day or other I might turn up 
 again to discomfort him. The unlooked-for news from Turin offered 
 a chance, at last, to clap an extinguisher on me that promised a final 
 relief. Was ever anything so fortunate ? Here was the object of 
 his anxiety safe and sure in limbo, 0^1 a charge of " Abduction" in 
 Genoa. 
 
 Was not Genoa in Sardinia ? Was not Sardinia under the abso 
 lute control of H.B.M. Foreign Office ? And what had its noble 
 chief to do but whisper his wish to the Chevalier d'Azeglio (Prime 
 Minister), who, surely, would not venture to refuse it. There is no 
 denying that luck ran strong in favour of the "Foreign 'Office, inas 
 much as the pretext for carrying out its purpose was really most 
 specious. Whilst affecting to protect a lady, it had a rare chance 
 to dispose of one of its agents that had excited its suspicions, and 
 might give annoyance hereafter. Whoever knows anything of the 
 grim calculations that Foreign Offices occasionally indulge, from the 
 days of the Genoese Oligarchy to the present, will not be surprised 
 at the determination come to in Downing Street as to my unfor 
 tunate case.
 
 A PRETEXT. 245 
 
 It required five days for the despatch of the Minister at Turin 
 to reach Lord Palmerston, and the same, of course, for his 
 instructions to return. I remained all this interval safe under 
 lock and key at Genoa. The United States' Consul meanwhile 
 called frequently on his colleague, Brown, in the hope to appease 
 his Olympian rage, but his reply was this : 
 
 " I have forwarded the whole matter to Mr. Hudson, at Turin, 
 and he has written to Lord Palmerston. I am instructed, mean 
 while, to take no steps till an answer is received. On that will 
 depend what is to be done." 
 
 This was plain enough, but 'my Consul persisted in. his efforts 
 to calm down the intemperate Brown, who yielded at length, and 
 pledged himself to call and visit me in prison the next morning, 
 November 30. Instead of this, however, he wrote next day to 
 the United States' Consul the following letter, which sufficiently 
 explains his change of intention : 
 
 Palazzo Cauibiaso, 30th November, 1851. 
 DEAR SIR 
 
 From a note I received, yesterday evening, from Turin, 
 after you had left my house, I am obliged decidedly to decline 
 visiting Mr. "Wikoff. He will be left to be dealt with by the tribunals 
 of this country as the law directs. 
 
 The Chevalier d'Azeglio (the Prime Minister) had no further 
 acquaintance with Wikoff than having seen him across a dinner- 
 table, \vithout knowing who or what he was. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 T. YEATES BROWN. 
 G. BAKER, Esq., United States Consul. 
 
 My Consul brought me this decisive document, and was kind 
 enough to leave, it with me as a souvenir. My fate was sealed
 
 246 A PRETEXT. 
 
 for the Foreign Office had clearly launched its mandate to make 
 the most of the occasion, and its agents at Turin and Genoa 
 certainly displayed an excess of zeal that should recommend them 
 for any similar job hereafter. 
 
 Brown, however, was, as I have intimated, an eccentric creature. 
 He was regarded, as I learnt afterwards, by the people of the 
 place as a very silly and offensive person, from his ridiculous airs 
 of importance, as well as from his gruff manners. He was totally 
 deficient in tact, and was so elated at the delicate diplomatic task 
 assigned to him, which he thought would ensure promotion, that 
 he could not contain himself. He declared openly to my Consul 
 and everybody, that " he would send me to the galleys," and, to do 
 him justice, he struggled hard to effect it. 
 
 A determined effort was made for several weeks to bury me 
 alive for some ten years ! in the galleys, and it was only the energy 
 of my Consul that saved me. To be sure, I had committed no 
 offence, but that is not at all necessary in Italy, even now-a-days, 
 when you have got a puissant Foreign Office in pursuit of you, 
 and a creature without soul or scruple, like Timothy Brown, to 
 carry out its behests. Blessed are all they that live within 
 sound of Bow bells ; for they, at least, may sleep quietly in their 
 beds without fear of galleys or prison, unless they have committed 
 a crime to warrant it. 
 
 After strenuous exertions, my assailant had to content himself 
 with bringing me, after three months' detention in a very nasty 
 prison, before the Genoese Court of Common Pleas, when he 
 endeavoured to obtain a sentence of five years against me ; but his 
 evidence broke down, and he was obliged to content himself with 
 what he considered a pitiful condemnation to only one year's 
 imprisonment, but which I found, God knows, tedious enough.
 
 A PRETEXT. 247 
 
 Let my sad fate be a warning to any aspiring countryman of 
 mine, who might hereafter fall in the way of that Syren, the 
 Foreign Office, and be offered a snug berth at 500 a-year. Let 
 him beware ! for with all his zeal, the utmost loyalty, and constant 
 anxiety to do his best, he can never foretell what strange fate may 
 be in reserve for him. He may fall as I did, and fall like Lucifer, 
 too, by finding himself in a place nearer to a hell on earth than 
 any other kind of conceivable abode. 
 
 Such were my doleful reflections at the time, and bitterly did I 
 regret that -I had ever listened to the voice of the charmer, and 
 been lured from my own pleasant paths into the tortuous mazes 
 of diplomacy, with mystery at one end, and a prison at the other. 
 
 Lest any of my readers may fancy that I am trifling with their 
 credulity, and am only trying my hand at a work of fiction, I beg to 
 refer them again for every detail and proof of what I have ad 
 vanced to the published volume already alluded to, " My Courtship 
 and Its Consequences." 
 
 He will see there, besides, that the agents of the Foreign Office 
 at Genoa and Turin were not men to stick at trifles, and that they 
 did not hesitate, even, to utter a flagrant untruth when it served 
 their purpose. 
 
 On page 264 they will find the following extract from the ex 
 amination of the British Consul before the Court of Common Pleas 
 at Genoa. 
 
 President " Do you know whether Mr. Wikoff had any em 
 ployment under the British Government ?" 
 
 British Consul " I do not /enow, but I believe not. I have, 
 besides, spoken to the English Ambassador (Mr. Hudson) who told 
 vie it was impossible." 
 
 The object of this disclaimer, it will be seen by reference to the
 
 248 A PRETEXT. 
 
 aforesaid volume, was to make me appear in the light of a bare 
 faced impostor ; and the effect of this deliberate denunciation, on 
 the part of the Consul and Ambassador of Her Britannic Majesty, 
 convinced all who heard or read it that I mnst be a presumptuous 
 vagabond, indeed, to prate of my relations with the English Go 
 vernment, when they were so peremptorily denied by its accredited 
 agents. 
 
 This took place on the 10th of February, three months after my 
 consignment to " durance vile," at Genoa ; so it is plain enough that 
 Messrs. Brown and Hudson had had time enough to ascertain the 
 fact of my connection with the Foreign Office, or no. If it were not 
 for fear of giving offence to these worthy gentlemen, I would not 
 hesitate to assert, that they knew every particular of my employ 
 ment at the Foreign Office at the very moment they proclaimed 
 their disbelief of it. I hold ample proof of this, which only goes 
 to prove that your Diplomatists are not the most scrupulous 
 people in the world, after all ! 
 
 After the farce of my trial was over, a strong movement was 
 made to obtain my pardon from the Sardinian Government. The 
 celebrated Count de Cavour was, then, the leading Minister of 
 the Crown, and, from various considerations, he was most favor 
 ably disposed towards me. His estimable brother, the Marquis de 
 Cavour, wrote to me in March, and bid me to forward my peti 
 tion for pardon. It was now the turn of the higher functionary of 
 the Foreign Office, Mr. Hudson, at Turin, who stepped forward, in 
 the name of his Government, and protested vehemently against 
 any act of clemency. This was sufficient to frustrate the humane 
 intentions of the Count de Cavour, and I was forced to drag out 
 fifteen weary months in a common gaol at Genoa. 
 
 Every one knows the power of Her Britannic Majesty's Go-
 
 vernment in Sardinia, which, at one moment, protected this 
 gallant little State from Austria, and afterwards saved its credit by 
 timely loans, and at all times exercises, through the Sardinian 
 Cabinet, a salutary influence over Italy. This is well, but it was, 
 in my view, a downright degradation of that majestic beast, the 
 British lion, to make it sit on guard at the prison-door of a luck 
 less lover till the very last hour of his infliction was over. 
 
 Should any be inclined to question the fact of Mr. Hudson's 
 interference against my pardon at Turin, I beg to state the fol 
 lowing : A distinguished friend of mine at Paris applied in the 
 spring of '52, to the Count de Cavour, for my deliverance, who 
 replied to him at the time evasively. On coming to Paris, a couple 
 of months later, the Count called on my friend, and declared that 
 " it was his fixed intention to pardon me, as he looked upon the 
 whole thing as a farce ; but that Mr. Hudson, the English Minister, 
 opposed it on behalf of his Government, and that he was in conse 
 quence compelled to give way." I am ready, if challenged, to 
 give names, which will put my assertion at once beyond all doubt. 
 
 On my return to London from this novel expedition, in the 
 spring of '53, I was curious to know what was the actual humor 
 of the Foreign Office towards me, and whether it was inclined to 
 repent its unjustifiable prank at my expense. I felt sure there 
 must be some uneasiness entertained at the course I might think 
 myself entitled, after such huge provocation, to pursue. To ascer 
 tain all this the shortest way appeared to me was to address a letter 
 to Mr. Addington, stating generally that I considered myself ag 
 grieved by the conduct of Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at 
 Genoa, in an affair that had occurred in Genoa in '51 and '52, and 
 which I held myself ready to substantiate, if an occasion was 
 afforded me. This was the likeliest mode to effect my object, and 
 so I wrote instanter to Mr. Addinston.
 
 *50 A PRETEXT. 
 
 His reply was prompt, aud to this purport : 
 
 Foreign Office, March. , 1853. 
 SIR 
 
 I have duly received your letter, in which you mention 
 certain grounds of compiaint, which you conceive yourself to have 
 against Her Majesty's Consul at Genoa, for his conduct in a matter 
 iu which you were personally concerned, some time since. 
 
 I beg leave to request, that if you feel yourself aggrieved by the pro 
 ceedings of Mr. Consul Brown, in a sufficient degree to justify an 
 official representation, you will address such representation to Her 
 Majesty's Secretary of State. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 Your very obedient servant, 
 
 H. U. ADDINGTON. 
 HENRY WIKOFF, ESQ. 
 
 This sounded conciliatory, I thought, and tallied with my hopes 
 that the Foreign Office would see the fitness of according me satis 
 faction for the outrage I had suffered at its hands, without com 
 pelling me to lay the whole case before the public. I felt great 
 reluctance to do this, as it would oblige me not only to 
 expose all the delicate details of my courtship, and renew the 
 unenviable notoriety of Miss Gamble, but, further, to undergo 
 another encounter with the Foreign Office, which dismayed me not 
 a little. I had received so many severe proofs of its means of 
 annoyance, and of the unscrupulous lengths to which it would go, 
 that I was more inclined to take counsel of my discretion than of 
 my wrongs. 
 
 Besides, I was not in a condition to appeal to public opinion 
 against such formidable antagonists as I had to deal with; for
 
 A PRETEXT. 251 
 
 my name and character had been studiously covered with ob 
 loquy by a series of ingenious attacks in the newspapers, in which 
 calumny and misrepresentation were pitilessly employed. I con 
 sidered it, then, far more judicious to parley pleasantly with the 
 Foreign Office, and endeavour to get myself right again with its 
 co-operation, rather than in spite of it, a disheartening task. It 
 was not pecuniary compensation I meant to ask, but such reason 
 able concessions as would enable me to hold rny head up again in 
 society. 
 
 The best mode to effect this, that occurred to me, was a disvowal of 
 Mr. Consul Brown's disreputable behaviour, but I was willing, of 
 course, to leave my restitution to the superior wisdom of the autho 
 rities in Downing-street. I inferred my chances were all the better 
 that Lord Palmerston, though a member of the Government, was 
 no longer at the head of the Foreign Office. To be sure, his 
 successor, Lord Clarendon, would take care not to compromise 
 his noble colleague by taking any steps in my favour without 
 consulting him, and it remained to be seen how far the latter 
 would consent to repair the injuries I had endured. It is a rare 
 thing for a great man in office to admit an error by doing an act 
 of justice, not that he may lack magnanimity, but it would go 
 to prove he had made a mistake, and we have the high authority 
 of Talleyrand, " g'une faute est pire qun crime," (that an error is 
 worse than a crime), not a very moral axiom, it is true, but in 
 diplomacy the end invariably justifies the means. 
 
 The difficulty my case presented was how to satisfy my expec 
 tations without damaging the parties so active against me. On3 
 method had been hit upon which I had rejected. A pardon had 
 been offered me whilst in prison, together with money, which 
 Miss Gamble was ready to advance, on condition that IsJtould bind
 
 252 A PRETEXT. 
 
 mysetf to leave Europe, and maJce no publication of all thai Jiad 
 occurred. I declined Iho bargain without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 The dilemma then remained .how far it was possible to reinstate 
 me without exposing the Foreign Office and its agents to the risk 
 of being convicted, should the matter ever reach the public, of 
 conduct towards an individual who had given no real cause of 
 offence that was undignified, cruel, and pusillanimous. 
 
 I never doubted that the people of England and the tlnited 
 States would ope their eyes in some astonishment, should it ever 
 transpire to what small uses a Foreign Office can be put, and that, 
 besides its lofty functions of canvassing the affairs of States, it 
 could also be as effectually employed in sating personal animosities, 
 possessing all the versatile powers of the elephant, that can hurl 
 down trees and pick up pins. 
 
 The letter of Mr. Addington adroitly suggested my drawing up 
 a representation of my case, which would, of course, enable him to 
 judge what facts I held that might be compromising to the 
 Foreign Office, or its agents in Turin and Genoa. Much, I knew, 
 would depend on this. Before gratifying his curiosity, however, 
 I thought it would be as well to pay him a visit, and see what I 
 could get out of him. My sensations were not as buoyant as of 
 yore in recrossing the dismal precincts of the Foreign Office, and 
 I almost feared to enter the gloomy old ante-chamber, lest the 
 key might be turned upon me, and I should be kept on bread and 
 water for the rest of my born days. 
 
 I had fallen into the most singular suspicions of diplomacy, and 
 all its ways, and was disposed to regard its Ministers and Consuls 
 as little better than so many well-dressed turnkeys. 
 
 I entered Mr. Addington's room arrectis auribus, eager for 
 every word he might let drop. He received me most graciously
 
 A PRETEXT. 253 
 
 but was oa his guard, and not inclined to talk, for he pleaded 
 pressure of business. I was just beginning a rather pathetic 
 recital of all my troubles, when Mr. Addington interrupted me, 
 by saying, in a hurried manner : 
 
 " There, don't go into details ; I know all about it." 
 
 He stopped abruptly, for he committed himself in making this 
 avowal. It was no news to me, however, for I knew, first, that 
 the south of Europe being under the special diplomatic surveillance 
 of Mr. Addington, he must be aware of all that had occurred in 
 Sardinia; and I was informed, in the second place, that after 
 Lord Palmerston had left the Foreign Office, my affair at Genoa 
 had devolved upon him as being familiar with it." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Addington," I replied, " as you know it all 
 it is unnecessary to go into details. But what do you counsel 
 me to do ?" 
 
 " Make out your case," he said, " and send it into me or Lord 
 Clarendon." 
 
 " I will do so as soon as possible, and I hope that prejudice 
 will not prevent its being favourably considered." 
 
 " You shall have justice done you," returned Mr. Addington, 
 with some emphasis ; when, seeing he was reluctant to prolong 
 the interview, I took my leave. 
 
 The Foreign Office had taken its stand, and there was nothing 
 left for me but " to make out my case." Unfortunately, I had 
 a pair of cases-to make out. The absurd conduct of the Foreign 
 Office in throwing me into a prison under the silly pretext of 
 abducting a lady already affianced to me; and, next, dragging 
 me before a public tribunal to go through the mockery of a trial, 
 in order merely to heap discredit on me, rendered it necessary that 
 I should make out a case for the public as well as for the Foreign
 
 254 A PRETEXT. 
 
 Office. The broad fact of my condemnation to a year's imprison 
 ment, coupled with the garbled statements which had appeared 
 against me in the London newspapers, and which were copied 
 into those of the United States, demanded I should give the facts 
 to the public, in the hope of reversing the mistaken views enter 
 tained of the affair, if no middle course could be found to 
 avoid it. 
 
 I shrank with natural repugnance from an expose that would be 
 offensive to Miss Gamble, and odious to myself; and I was 
 equally solicitous not to be forced into a publication of my late 
 connection with Lord Palmerston, which was of a confidential 
 nature, and that I had many reasons not to reveal. Still the 
 disgrace and suffering that had been inflicted on me simply 
 because an occasion arose that tempted the Foreign Office into an 
 effort to " get rid of me," left me no alternative. Either the 
 Foreign Office must aid in reinstating me, or I must appeal to 
 public opinion. 
 
 The better to prepare my case, I returned to the scene of my 
 late disasters, Genoa, and gathered abundant evidence of the in 
 discretion of Consul Brown. I found that in more than one 
 instance attempts were made to bribe certain witnesses by the 
 solicitor of Miss Gamble, named Graziani, and who held out the 
 patronage of the British Consul as a further inducement. This 
 was done especially in the case of a landlord of a certain hotel, 
 which, is certified on page 393 of "My Courtship." I found, 
 besides, that it was the fixed opinion of society in Genoa that my 
 persecution by Her Britannic Majesty's Consul was in compliance 
 with instructions from the Home Government, else he would never 
 have presumed to carry his violence to such an indecent length, 
 without any personal motive to stimulate him.
 
 A PRETEXT. 255 
 
 In August, '53, I sent my case into the Foreign Office, which I 
 had drawn up with great simplicity, avoiding tedious details, that 
 Mr. Addington declared were all familiar to him. A few days 
 after I received the following reply from Lord Clarendon : 
 
 Foreign Office, September 6th, 1853. 
 SIK 
 
 I am directed by the Earl of Clarendon to acknowledge the 
 receipt of your letters of the 28th and 30th ultimo, in the former 'of 
 which you prefer a charge against Mr. Brown, Her Majesty's Consul 
 at Genoa, and in the latter a charge against Mr. James Hudson, 
 Her Majesty's Minister at Turin ; both those charges having reference 
 to the conduct of those gentlemen with regard to certain matters 
 connected with a trial in the winter of 1852, in which you were 
 concerned. 
 
 I am to observe to you that, as you are an United States' citizen' 
 your complaint against a Diplomatic, or a Consular Officer of the 
 British Crown ought to be preferred through your own Government, 
 or, at least, through an Officer of your own Government. 
 
 I am, further, to observe that, on looking over the report of the 
 trial in question, it appears to Lord Clarendon that the testimony 
 given by Mr. Brown was given in his character of an individual 
 summoned into court as a witness personally acquainted with you, 
 and not in his character as British Consul. 
 
 I am, also, to state to you that Lord Clarendon can perceive 
 nothing in Mr. Hudson's conduct in this matter which lays him open 
 in any way to censure or disapprobation. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 Your most obedient humble servant, 
 
 H. U. ADDINGTON. 
 HENRY WIKOFF, ESQ. 
 
 Sic volo, aicjiibeo, sit pro rations voluntas. This was the fiat of 
 the Foreign Office. In plain English, a fig for your facts and your 
 wrongs ; it suits my purpose to ignore both, and my will is law.
 
 256 A PRETEXT. 
 
 I was a good deal surprised at the nature of the reply vouchsafed 
 to me. The letter of Mr. Addington already given, dated in 
 March, desired me, if I considered myself justified in making an 
 official representation, to " address such representation to Her 
 Majesty's Secretary of State." When I complied with this direction 
 I am answered that I ought to prefer my complaint " through your 
 own Government, or, at least, through an Officer of your own 
 Government." Not veiy intelligible language, but plain enough to 
 indicate that the Foreign Office, in bidding me do one thing one 
 day and the opposite the next, simply meant to shuffle out of its 
 responsibility. The deeper my insight into Diplomacy, the stronger 
 my dislike was growing for it. 
 
 What a farce to set up a distinction between Timothy Brown 
 Consul, and Timothy Brown, an individual. Besides, facts were 
 boldly misstated. The report of the trial, which Lord Clarendon 
 " looked over," showed that Mr. Bro\rn was allowed to give his 
 evidence "on his honor, as British Consul;" and, furthermore, 
 contrary to all usage, was not sworn. The suggestion that my 
 ferocious assailant, Consul Brown, whom I knew nothing of what 
 ever, was a " personal acquaintance of mine," struck me as some- 
 tiling more than a quibble, and as nothing less than another joke 
 of the Foreign Office. 
 
 As to Mr. Hudson's conduct, Lord Clarendon could " perceive 
 nothing " in that which laid him open to censure, simply because 
 he chose to regard it through his own diplomatic spectacles, and 
 not through the medium of truth and impartiality. I did not omit 
 to state the important fact already mentioned, that the Count de 
 Cavour would have obtained my pardon immediately if Mr. Hud 
 son had not interposed with energy to prevent it. 
 
 My appeal to the Foreign Office was thus rebelled. It was
 
 A PRETEXT. 257 
 
 thought unlikely, no doubt, that I could ever interest the public 
 in my case, even if I ventured to lay it before them ; and, besides, 
 what was a pigmy like myself to such a giant as the Foreign Office ? 
 
 Denied redress in every quarter, I had to choose between my 
 social ruin and an energetic effort at vindication. Armed with 
 the justice of my cause, I set about it, and published the eventful 
 history of " My Courtship" in England and the United States in 
 the beginning of '55. Its success far transcended my most san 
 guine expectations, and the vast literary jury of both countries, 
 which impartially reviewed the facts of the case, gave a verdict 
 that completely set aside the shallow decision of one of those un 
 scrupulous men, whose tribe the poet has justly satirized when he 
 declares they will " hang the guiltless rather than eat their mutton 
 cold." 
 
 Having set myself right in the misrepresented affair of Miss 
 Gamble's abduction, I turned my attention once more to the 
 Foreign Office, expecting to find it better disposed to accord me 
 that "justice" (which Mr. Addington had once promised) from 
 the fact of having re-established myself in public opinion. The 
 Foreign Office usually takes a practical view of things, and with 
 out diving into the details of innocence or guilt, it only hears 
 or repels those who can or cannot " make out a case." Sequitur 
 forlunam ut semper et odit damnatos. 
 
 My former patron, the noble Viscount Palmerston, was now 
 Prime Minister of England, and I lost no time, on returning 
 thither, August, '55, in bringing my case under his consideration, 
 rejoicing that he had such ample power to afford me that redress, 
 which he, better than all men, knew me to be entitled to in equity. 
 I was aware that my case was. really, a difficult one to manage, 
 even for so dexterous a hand as his Lordship's is known to be.
 
 258 A PRETEXT. 
 
 If the Consul at Genoa, and the Minister at Turin, had acted 
 under instructions, how coxild they, in fairness, be censured, and 
 if that was denied me, then my claim to other redress must be con 
 sidered, which it might not, however, be palatable to the Foreign 
 Office to grant. 
 
 In spite of all my vexation and loss from ever having accepted the 
 offers of the noble Viscount, yet such was my respect for his exalted 
 position and character that I was most anxious to spare him the 
 possible annoyance, as well as save myself the disagreeable task 
 of laying iny case before the public, if he would grant me such 
 moderate concessions as the testimony I could bring to bear 
 against his Consul at Genoa, and his Minister at Turin, fully en 
 titled me to ask. 
 
 I stated this in the respectful appeal I addressed his Lordship 
 on my return to London in August, '55, and received the following 
 prompt reply : 
 
 Downing-street, August 27th, 1855. 
 Sin 
 
 I am directed by Lord Palmerston to acknowledge the re 
 ceipt of your letter, dated 25th of August, and to inform you, in 
 reply, that Lord Palmerston considers that you have no claim what 
 ever on Her Majesty's Government, and that he must decline any 
 further correspondence with you. 
 
 I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 CHARLES C. CLIFFORD. 
 HENRY WIKOFF, Esq. 
 
 Nothing could be more conclusive of his Lordship's final deter 
 mination to uphold the irregular conduct of his agents at Genoa 
 and Turin, and it remained for me to choose between quiet sub-
 
 A PRETEXT. 259 
 
 mission to so much wrong, or that legitimate satisfaction which, 
 I trusted, the public would award me on perusing a simple and 
 moderate statement of facts. 
 
 It will thus be seen that I have reluctantly been forced into the 
 eventful history of my connection with the Foreign Office, after 
 patiently abiding for upwards of three years to obtain that "justice" 
 once pledged, and which the utmost effort had failed to secure. 
 
 Many may be surprised at the incontestible fact of my bitter 
 ^rsecution by Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at Genoa, as well as 
 at the unseemly hostility of Her Britannic Majesty's Minister at 
 Turin, but be wholly incredulous as to the Foreign Office, in No 
 vember, '51, taking any part in it. Whatever proofs I may have 
 of this I will reserve, for it is not my purpose to draw up a bill of 
 indictment against the Foreign Office or any one connected with 
 it, past or present. It is sufficient, however, that Lord Clarendon, 
 in August, '53, and that Lord Palmerston : in August, '55, indorsed 
 the irregular and unjustifiable conduct of Consul Brown, and 
 Minister Hudson, to justify me in saying that my imprisonment for 
 fifteen months in a Genoese Jail was the act of Her Majesty's 
 Government. 
 
 The motive for this novel exercise of diplomatic influence it is 
 somewhat difficult to make apparent, but it arose partly from the 
 conviction of Lord Palinerston that he had done a foolish thing in 
 employing an American at the Foreign Office ; and next, that he 
 was disappointed at the result ; and finally, that his Lordship was 
 heartily anxious to " get rid of me," to borrow his own phrase to 
 a Foreign Ambassador at the Court of St. James's. 
 
 Further, his Lordship may have apprehended annoyance from 
 the publication some day of my relations with the Foreign Office, 
 and the desire to conceal this fact is evident enough from the 
 
 s
 
 260 A PRETEXT. 
 
 British Consul at Genoa venturing, in his own name and that of 
 the British Minister at Turin, to deny it in public court, though it 
 was perfectly well known to them at the time. It was a " lost fear" 
 on the part of the noble Secretary of State, for such was and is my 
 profound respect for his brilliant abilities, eminent services, and 
 remarkable career, that no morbid love of notoriety could ever have 
 induced me to violate the tacit confidence reposed in my discretion. 
 My harmless freak at Genoa with a lady actually betrothed to 
 me, afforded the Foreign Office an occasion for friendly interference 
 on my behalf, which would have laid me under the obligation of a 
 favour conferred ; instead of which it laid hold of a miserable 
 pretext to inflict on me, through its unscrupulous officials, not 
 only extreme suffering, but such a weight of disgrace as to compel 
 me, however reluctantly, to give this strange history to the English 
 and American public. 
 
 In conclusion, I would not have it understood as my conviction 
 that the Foreign Office ever contemplated the heinous act of im 
 muring me alive for long years in the Genoese galleys. I attribute 
 this odious attempt solely to its over-zealous agent, Consul Brown, 
 whose callous cruelty libelled most foully that genuine humanity 
 which is one of the noblest traits of the English nation.
 
 FOREIGN OFFICE VEBSDS THE UNITED STATES. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 It must be apparent from what I have previously related, that 
 my first rupture with the Foreign Office grew out of the opinion 
 I had formed of the irue basis of a solid alliance between England 
 and the United States, and which was so diametrically opposed to 
 the traditions and actual convictions of that influential department 
 as to expose me to the suspicion of either ignorance or disloyalty. 
 I am not inclined to attribute to Lord Palmerston, when Secretary 
 for Foreign Affairs, any sentiments of personal hostility to the 
 United States. Nay, if he meant all he said as to his motive in 
 employing me to carry out " a liberal, especially a pacific policy," 
 it is pretty plain that his Lordship was really anxious to maintain 
 the most friendly intercourse with the Union, rightly appreciating 
 the vast interests, moral and material, dependent on it. My mis 
 understanding with the noble Lord, it appears, sprung only from 
 the different views entertained as to how the same end was to be 
 accomplished. 
 
 His Lordship clearly believed that the two countries might go 
 on trading indefinitely, as well as augmenting in other respects 
 their amicable relations with each other, whilst the Foreign Office 
 continued to carry on its habitual policy of jealous interference 
 and secret hostility to the territorial expansion of the United 
 States. 
 
 I was much better informed than his Lordship on this vital
 
 262 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 point, from understanding better the sentiments of my own country. 
 I had long observed the profound dissatisfaction caused in the 
 United States by the officious and ungracious intermeddling of the 
 British Foreign Office with our " Colonial " policy, which had, at 
 least, everything to justify it that could be alleged in the defence 
 of the Colonial policy of the mother country. I remembered 
 the surprise, naturally succeeded by anger, with which the Union 
 beheld the English Government unite with that of Prance to 
 throw every obstacle in the way of the annexation of Texas ; next, 
 the resistance it made to our advance in Oregon ; and, finally, 
 the earnest opposition attempted against our acquisition of Cali 
 fornia. The people of the United States, recollecting the spirit 
 of conquest which for centuries had animated the English Go 
 vernment, and which had led to successive augmentations of 
 their Empire in all parts of the world by force of arms, were 
 astonished at the hardihood, and shocked at the hypocrisy of 
 English Statesmen, who took exception to the territorial aggran 
 disement of the Union, by means both legitimate and honorable. 
 
 If anything could add to the oft'ensiveness of this illogical and 
 determined intervention in their affairs in the eyes of the American 
 people, it was that they could find no motive for it in the interests 
 of England, which were, in fact, benefitted instead of compromised, 
 and they were obliged, therefore, to ascribe it either to the rancor of 
 individual Statesmen, or to the political prejudices of an oligarchy. 
 I was deeply convinced, when I entered the Foreign Office in 1851, 
 that the period had arrived when it should lay aside its old 
 aggressive policy towards the United States, as it had already 
 done in the case of European States. 
 
 The foreign policy of England, under the influence of public 
 opinion, had undergone a striking reform as regards Europe, and
 
 THE UMTED STATES. 263 
 
 political sympathies, or aristocratic prejudices, were no longer 
 allowed to decide grave questions of peace and war. A second 
 French Kepublic, and a second Napoleon, had failed to create a 
 second Pitt, but on the contrary, the wisdom of non-intervention 
 in the affairs of other States, where English interests were not 
 endangered, was imperiously dictated by the national voice. In 
 Europe the mission of the Foreign Office was limited henceforth 
 to cultivating alliances, and not to fomenting wars from political 
 or selfish designs. 
 
 It was equally clear to me the moment had come when the 
 Foreign Office must abandon, also, in the United States, in obe 
 dience to the public wish, its worn out and dangerous practices. 
 I thought Lord Palmerston's singular sagacity had detected the 
 bent of the national mind, and was solicitous to win the honor of 
 inaugurating a new and wiser policy. It turned out I was mistaken, 
 perhaps, as to his Lordship's purpose, but since then I have had 
 abundant and triumphant proofs that England is determined to 
 rectify the aberrations of its Foreign Office as regards the United 
 States, and to put a timely stop to its ancient system of provoca 
 tion and covert enmity. 
 
 It is important to notice these indications of popular opinion 
 coming to the rescue of the national interests and the vindication 
 of the national character. I quote the following from the Times 
 newspaper, of April 26, '54 : 
 
 " Within Jiving memories it has been thought our interest to 
 " damage in succession almost every nation of the world. The re- 
 " suit has shown that in every instance it has been our interest to 
 " strengthen and conciliate them, if that could be done, and that, at 
 " all events, they could not be ruined but to our own ultimate loss." 
 
 It were impossible, in fewer words, to pronounce a more crushing
 
 264 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 condemnation of the ignorant and pernicious policy of the Foreign 
 Office, which for long years has provoked wars and committed acts 
 of tyranny and injustice, rendering the English name odious in every 
 quarter of the globe ; and which, so far from benefiting the nation, 
 has only saddled it with a gigantic debt, that preys daily on 
 its industry and resources. Such testimony as to the misguided 
 policy of the Foreign Office is valuable, indeed, coming from a 
 journal that represents more faithfully than any other the opinions 
 and interests of England. 
 
 Before passing on it may be as well, for the sake of my American 
 readers, to say a word of this Leviathan of the Press. The daily 
 circulation of the Times is the largest, and its influence, both at 
 home and abroad, the greatest of any English journal, which, in 
 part, is to be ascribed to its independent position, representing 
 national rather than party interests, but, more still, to the sitrrnlnr 
 ability displayed in its leading articles, and not less, perhaps, 
 to the admirable skill exhibited in its management, down 
 to the smallest details, as well as to the rare sagacity 
 displayed in detecting the laiutest vibrations ot the public 
 pulse. From these various causes it has gradually become 
 the boldest expositor of the sentiments and the stoutest cham 
 pion of the interests of the country against that class legisla 
 tion and oligarchical policy which, since 1688 to within a few 
 years, has treated England as little else than a vast preserve 
 for the nourishment and recreation of a privileged class. The 
 Times has, consequently, led the way, with equal force and address, 
 in advocating those salutary measures of home policy, the Reform 
 Bill, Eepeal of the Corn Laws, Free Trade, Eepeal of Navigation 
 Laws, which since 20 years have greatly impaired the power and 
 curtailed the resources of the aristocracy.
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 265 
 
 It will be seen from the paragraph quoted that the Times has 
 turned its attention to the Foreign as well as to the Home policy 
 of the Oligarchy, and it does no more in this instance than express, 
 as in the others, the settled convictions of the public mind. 
 
 The policy of the Foreign Office in the past is now regarded in 
 England as having merely ministered to the prejudices, or served 
 the interests of the class that have hitherto controlled it ; but it is 
 evident that henceforth it must yield to national direction, and con 
 tribute to the national good. In Europe as in America, its crafty 
 intrigues, its narrow jealousies, its presumptuous interference and 
 insolent dictation, must be given up, for England sees her true policy 
 in peace and its prolific gains, and her ruin in war with its intole 
 rable burdens. 
 
 It is to be regretted that the Times newspaper considers it ne 
 cessary to its prestige to keep up a semi-official connection with 
 the Government of the day, which not unfrequently leads it away 
 from its true mission and real instinct the national cause. In '54, 
 in deference to the views of Lord Aberdeen, then Prime Minister, 
 it advocated concession to Russia, and compromised its popularity 
 by pleading against the popular determination to resist the policy 
 of the Colossus of the North. So far as the interests of peace 
 were concerned, the Times performed a philanthropic duty, but the 
 view every patriotic Englishman at that time took was simply this, 
 that if Russian aggrandizement was not checked in Europe, the safety 
 of England was endangered. Right or wrong this was the national 
 sentiment, and. Lord Aberdeen was, in consequence, obliged to 
 retire from power, and the Times to change its tone. 
 
 The course of the Times since November, '55, on the American 
 question, is equally equivocal and anti-national. It has chosen,
 
 266 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 with its accustomed ability, to support Lord Palmerstoii's irri 
 tating and hostile policy to the United States, and in so doing 
 has thrown away its splendid role of sitting as umpire, in the name 
 of England, upon the diplomatic feats of the Foreign Office, and 
 the inevitable resistance of the American Government. 
 
 The sagacity of the Times must be at fault, indeed, not to know 
 that the great industrial and trading classes, which now give law 
 to England, are resolved against war with the United States as 
 utter ruin to their interests. 
 
 It must, likewise, be deplorably ill-informed not to know that, 
 in the United States, neither the views of any class, nor the senti 
 ments of our public men are favourable to a war with England, 
 which is universally regarded as not more unnatural than absurd. Yet 
 the Times newspaper, for months past, has thought fit to encourage 
 the wrangling spirit of the Foreign Office, for no other motive, 
 apparently, than to be on terms of amity with the Government of 
 the day, unless to this is added the journalistic necessity of writing 
 piquant articles on an engrossing and prolific subject. Still, every 
 friend of this great organ, the diurnal wonder of the century, must 
 regret to see it, for one moment, abdicate its true functions, and 
 neglect to express, with equal independence, impartiality, and fear 
 lessness, the real opinions of England, or to sustain the cause of 
 truth and justice everywhere. 
 
 From its lofty position it might exercise a vigilant and whole 
 some surveillance over the interests of both nations, kindred in 
 language as blood, and its influence would be equally powerful in 
 defeating the "bellicose designs of an American politician, should 
 such arise, as in checking the crafty machinations of the Foreign 
 Office. la the paragraph quoted from its own columns, the 
 Times declares that the policy of the Foreign Office in seeking to
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 267 
 
 "damage nations instead of strengthening and conciliating them," 
 is erroneous, which is profoundly true, as the policy of England is 
 trade, and not conquest. Why, then, it may be inquired, has 
 this journal not maintained its own doctrines in the recent 
 differences between the foreign Office and the American Go 
 vernment ? I venture on these remarks with no small trepida 
 tion, for I am well aware that the Times, if it should condescend 
 to notice me at all, can, by a single stroke of its ponderous pen, 
 make me keenly repent of my temerity in presuming to question 
 its eccentricity on any occasion ; still I think it only right to utter 
 this remonstance, and I must prepare myself to endure with ex 
 emplary meekness the probable penalty. 
 
 Another striking instance of the resolution of the commercial 
 world of England to arrest that pragmatical spirit of the Foreign 
 Office which threatens so much disaster, was given at the Lord 
 Mayor's Dinner to the late American Minister at this Court, 
 Mr. Buchanan. This gentleman, in the course of his reply to 
 the Lord Mayor, made use of the following striking language : 
 
 " There could be no political servitude where the English 
 " language was the language of the country. It was impossible ; 
 "and so far from there being any jealousy either on the part of 
 " England or the United States as to the honest and fair extension 
 " of their borders, it ought to be considered a blessing to mankind 
 "that they should extend them over all the unsettled parts of 
 "the earth." 
 
 This candid avowal of the American Minister as to what he 
 conceived to be the true policy of England and the United States, 
 " the honest and fair extension of their borders," was received by 
 the company assembled on that occasion, the elite of the indus 
 trial, financial, and commercial classes, with enthusiastic demon-
 
 268 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 strations of approval. Could anything better illustrate the settled 
 convictions of these influential bodies, or convey a stronger rebuke 
 to that querulous mismanagement of the Foreign Office, which 
 not only undertakes to check the spread of civilization, but to 
 throw obstacles in the way of the national prosperity. 
 
 The territorial extension of the United States, so far from being 
 a cause of legitimate anxiety to England, is, on the contrary, an 
 object that she should heartily desire, for the simple reason, that 
 she must be the ultimate gainer. Every new town and harbour 
 added to the American territory, as I have already observed, is 
 only a new mart for her merchandize, and a new outlet for her 
 navigation. If the question were decided, as it soon will be, by 
 the commercial world of England, the addition of new territory 
 to the United States, instead of being a ground of quarrel 
 between the two countries as now, would be a source of mutual 
 satisfaction. 
 
 The Foreign Office, thai so recklessly risks the interests of 
 England, and the peace of the world, in its churlish opposition to 
 American annexation, against which it presumptuously seeks to 
 draw the liue of exclusion, " thus far shalt thou go, and no 
 farther," happily entertains no such puerile scruples as to the 
 extension of the English Empire in India. It was only the 
 other day that we read the loud vauntings of the Times, and heard 
 the triumphant rejoicings of the India House, over the splendid 
 successes of the ex-Governor General, Lord Dalhousie. It is in 
 these sonorous phrases that the Timet records the prowess of the 
 successor of Ctive and Hastings : 
 
 "It is enough to say that, with scarce a dissentient, be has 
 "added four kingdoms, besides lesser territories, to our Indian 
 " Empire ; and meanwhile introduced and developed all the great
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 269 
 
 " works of modern times, railways, electric telegraphs, canals, 
 " irrigation, roads, manufacturing and agricultural improvements, 
 " schools, scientific institutions, cheap uniform postage, and all the 
 "public works necessary for the establishment of a civilized rule 
 " in semi-barbarous countries." 
 
 The Chairman of the East India Company, in felicitating his 
 fellow Directors on these solid achievements of Lord Dalliousie's 
 genius, is less occupied with the interests of civilization, but natu 
 rally more engrossed by the mercantile result of these wholesale 
 annexations. He describes the annual " nettings" of these civil 
 ising operations, as follows : 
 
 The Punjaub 1,500,000 
 
 Pegu 270,000 
 
 Nagpore, less Tribute 410,000 
 
 Oucle 1,450,000 
 
 Sattarah 150,000 
 
 Shansbi 50,000 
 
 Hyderabad 500,000 
 
 4,330,000 per annum. 
 
 Sir James Hogg, the Chairman, in making this parade of figures, 
 suddenly remembers that this purely financial view of annexa 
 tion might possibly be considered by Foreign nations as somewhat 
 sordid, so he falls back immediately on the old clap-trap phrases 
 that have long appertained to the verbal armory of the India 
 House. " The long continued cries of outraged humanity," says 
 Sir James, with his hands piously uplifted, " have, at last, com- 
 " pelled the removal of that disgrace which the guarantee to insure 
 " good government has attached to the British name, in tolerating for 
 " more than half a century a state of anarchy and misrule which 
 " was fatal to the people and dangerous to us. Former Governors-
 
 270 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 " General had given solemn but ineffectual warnings to the Rulers in 
 " Oude, but Lord Dalhousie was the first to carry out the dictates of 
 " solid justice and sound policy /" Eight upon the heels of this high 
 sounding period Sir James furnishes the pecuniary details above, 
 which convey, in round numbers, his estimate of " solid justice and 
 sound policy." 
 
 The Times, again, in pealing out its praises in anthem tones of 
 Lord Dalhousie's glorious conquests, suddenly catches its breath, 
 and is apparently seized with a secret misgiving that its " Trans 
 atlantic cousins" might, possibly, be struck with the inconsistency 
 of the leading journal eulogising annexation in India, but de 
 nouncing it furiously in America. To relieve any unpleasant sus 
 picions of the sort, and to sooth American susceptibilities, the 
 Times begins forthwith playing with this ugly word of " annexa 
 tion" pretty much as a Thimble-rigger does with a pea, " now 
 you see it and now you don't." 
 
 " We have said," the Times remarks, " that in this there are 
 " happily wanting those drawbacks which the eulogist has usually 
 " to endure or disguise ; yet we are aware that ' annexation' in these 
 " days is a word of reasonable suspicion, if not of just opprobrium. 
 " Whether it be by peace or by arms, whether in the battle-field or 
 " by diplomacy, it is equally ascribed to the lust of dominion and 
 "the force of empire. As was truly observed the other day at 
 " the India house, ' annexation' is a word of various senses, and 
 "everyone of these four instances (the four kingdoms in question) 
 " requires a distinct consideration." 
 
 The Times, then, sets to work with exceeding ingenuity, art 
 fully drawing all its illustrations from the American continent, 
 to prove how very justifiable "annexation" is in India, however 
 abominable it may be in America. The Times might have spared
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 271 
 
 itself this gratuitous display of dissimulation ani dismissed its idle 
 apprehensions of American criticism, for the United States enter 
 tain no pitiful jealousy at the extension of the British Empire in 
 India, but rejoice to see British civilisation gradually extirpating 
 anarchy and barbarism. To the suppression of the Juggernaut, 
 and the abolition of the hideous immolation of the Indian widow, 
 the Americans only regret that the British Government doea 
 not put an immediate stop to the horrible practice of torture, which 
 its own agents actually and regularly employ to gather in the 
 revenue. If such an atrocity as torture was employed in our 
 Slave States, even, for the sake of revenue, what a hubbub the 
 Times would raise, and most properly too ; and above all, what a 
 yell of horror would escape from Exeter Hall in the name of 
 "British Humanity." 
 
 To come back to the Foreign Office, what would it say if the 
 American Government should borrow the very phraseology of the 
 Chairman of the East India Company, and justify the " annexa 
 tion" of Mexico and Central America, on the ground of having 
 "tolerated for near half a century the anarchy and misrule which 
 was fatal to the people and dangerous to MS." Would the Foreign 
 Office accept our " guarantee to insure good Government," and 
 like a well-behaved person leave us to attend to our business, and 
 sensibly mind its own ? It has refused to do so in the past, but 
 from present symptoms it is likely it will be obliged to alter its 
 conduct in the future. 
 
 In addition to the testimony already quoted of the revolution in 
 the public mind of England, as to the policy of its Foreign Oifice, 
 I would add another manifestation still more remarkable than tho 
 rest. 
 
 At the dinner given to the new American Minister, Mr. Dallas,
 
 272 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 by the Lord Mayor, in April last, that much respected oracle ol 
 the ' City " thus expressed himself: 
 
 " The Mnnsion-house had never pretended to be a diplomatic 
 a corporation, but the authorities had endeavoured at all times to 
 
 * be social and hospitable ; and there were no people vyith whom 
 
 * it ^as so especially necessary, or with whom it was so much our 
 v duty to cultivate social and friendly intercourse, as with our 
 " kindred friends of the United States. (Cheers.) Now, there 
 " was no reason why we should be jealous of America. On the 
 " contrary, there was every reason why we should be proud of our 
 " connection with the United States. That mighty nation had 
 " arisen from a colony of England, which had carried from the 
 " Mother-country the seeds of civil and religious liberty ; it was 
 " there that a kindred soil was found, and the colony had since 
 " become a great, a mighty, and an independent nation. We could 
 " boast of being the only nation where such a case had arisen. 
 " Other countries, such as Spain, &c., could only, comparatively 
 " speaking, show stunted colonies ; whereas, here we saw a vast and 
 " powerful country, which one day or other will span the whole of 
 " that Continent. All that was wished and desired by us was to 
 " see the most intimate and cordial relations maintained between 
 " the two great powers." 
 
 Could anything be plainer or more forcible than this language? 
 One of the prominent members of that great mercantile body, 
 which in reality governs England, here declares, with a Pharisaical 
 sneer of something like contempt, that the " Mansion House," 
 the City Palace, lays no claim to diplomatic prestige ; but, in a 
 tone of authority not to be mistaken, it makes known its utter 
 scorn of the frivolous disputes of the Foreign Office about some 
 obscure island, by making a present to the United States of the
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 273 
 
 whole of the Continent, Islands, Mosquito Kings, Brazilian 
 Emperors, and all, on the simple condition that England and the 
 United States may remain "intimate and cordial friends." 
 
 Since the day that Alexander cut the Gordian knot, it is 
 doubtful whether so many intricate difficulties were ever solved 
 in a more imperial way than by this decisive fiat of the Mansion 
 House. The Lord Mayor, with the clear-sightedness characteristic 
 of the industrial and trading classes, sees that no greater good 
 fortune could befall England than the United States taking 
 possession, if such a thing were possible, of the whole American 
 Continent, which would only increase to an incalculable extent 
 the exports of Great Britain; but, meanwhile, to show to the 
 United States, and the world, what the "City" thinks of the 
 Foreign Office, that is playing skittles with its vast commercial 
 and financial interests, it invites the American Minister to the 
 "Mansion House," not merely to give him a dinner worthy of 
 Lucullus, but to set before him, by way of dessert, a "sweet 
 dish," such as he had never dreamt of before, much less been 
 called on to digest, nothing else than what a French cook 
 would style un yros gateau d, V Americaine, but which the Lord 
 Mayor in plain English described as " the whole of the American, 
 Continent." 
 
 When he snt down on this occasion, the orchestra struck up 
 " Yankee Doodle ;" and to convince the astonished Minister of the 
 United States that their worthy magistrate had not been uttering 
 an idle compliment in tb.3 Spanish fashion, the assembled wealth 
 and dignity of the " City," merchants, manufacturers, bankers in 
 sh rt, the elite of the money-world set to work with their knives 
 and forks beating time to our national air, and with such downright 
 earnestness, as to make the piates dance on the tables before 
 them.
 
 274 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 For one I appreciated the significance of this demonstration, 
 and whilst nay blood tingled at the extraordinary welcome given 
 to the simple strains of our familiar ditty, as they rose high and 
 clear above the din below, I could not help reflecting that the 
 Foreign Office had been weighed in the balance and found 
 wanting. I felt sure from that day that whoever was Prime 
 Minister of England, he must give up skirmishing with the United 
 States about her territorial expansion, or that he must give up his 
 place. 
 
 Another incident occurred immediately afterwards on the same 
 occasion that abundantly deserves record. No sooner did Mr. 
 Dallas sit down and his short, but impressive, address was lis 
 tened to with reverent attention than young Lord Stanley rose 
 and uttered sentiments in the glowing language of eloquence that 
 thrilled the auditory, and will leave an echo in history. But, first, 
 a remark or two upon Lord Stanley, for he is of the new batch of 
 Statesmen the joint product of poor Sir Eobert Peel and the spirit 
 of the a?e and between whom and the old school of English poli 
 ticians there is really nothing in common. 
 
 He is the son and heir of the Earl of Derby, who, years agone, 
 gave lustre by his talents to this same historic title of Stanley. In 
 this instance it happens that the lord of hereditary acres has been 
 fortunate enough to transmit not only title and wealth, but even 
 more than paternal genius, for the son bids fair to outshine the 
 brilliant reputation of his sire. Nothing could more briefly indi 
 cate the rapid march of democratic ideas in England than to 
 measure the distance between the political tenets of the Earl of 
 Derby at one period of his life and those now professed by his son. 
 
 The Earl, at one time, was an intense Tory, which is now so 
 completely out of date that it would be hard to find in any recep-
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 275 
 
 tacle of rubbish a specimen of the decayed creature left. What the 
 son professes may be inferred directly from his own words. He is 
 a member of the House of Commons, and about 35 years of age. 
 For several years past he has taken a prominent part in Parlia 
 mentary debates, but he has attracted eveu more attention by his 
 striking speeches out of doors. 
 
 The custom of public meetings on topics of popular interest is 
 common enough amongst us; but in England, strange to say, 
 \ve are completely outdone in this respect. It arises, in a mea 
 sure, from the fact that numbers of aspiring men in the middle 
 classes, who have no chance to figure in the Parliamentary arena, 
 get up public meetings to let off their explosive eloquence, and 
 attract a corresponding share of renown j but these constant 
 gatherings have, also, another origin in the ten thousand societies, 
 for every conceivable object, that are got up by shrewd calculators 
 on the public sympathies, who constitute themselves perpetual 
 secretaries, and get together annual subscriptions enough to pro 
 vide comfortably for their families, if not for the ostensible charity 
 in question. 
 
 At these assemblies it is sought to obtain the services of speakers 
 of reputation ; and the Aristocracy, to prevent the middle classes 
 obtaining the lead in shaping public opinion in any matter, are in 
 the habit of presiding and speaking on most of these occasions- 
 Lord Stanley has availed himself liberally of all these opportunities 
 of late to make his rare abilities known, and to conciiiate popular 
 opinion, and the more so, that in Parliament he is obliged to 
 observe a certain restraint. 
 
 In fact, things have come to that point in the House of Commons 
 when it may be said that there is neither a Government with a 
 policy nor an Opposition to attack it. Stagnation has overtaken 
 
 T
 
 276 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 English politics, which I shall have a sood deal to say about at ano 
 ther time. Lord Stanley can't assail the Government in the House, 
 and he is indisposed, for divers reasons, to support it. He has, 
 therefore, been forced out the walls of St. Stephen's for a rostrum, 
 and is frequently found speaking, during the " season," at the west 
 end of the town, at the public meetings aforesaid ; and during the 
 recess, his fine swelling cadences come up to the readers of the 
 Times from some one or other of the Provinces, where his name- 
 and talents have found a market. 
 
 His motive, therefore, in accepting the hospitality of the Lord- 
 Mayor is apparent enough ; but it turned out, to the surprise of 
 many besides myself, that he had another object in view than 
 merely tacking his name to a showy discourse. He seized this 
 occasion, and he could not have found a better, to enter his protest, 
 with all the weight of his position, his talents, and his hopes, 
 against the mischievous, if not bellicose, policy of the Foreign 
 Office against the United States. The language he used showed 
 at once that he was not bidding for the " sweet voices " of the 
 citizens by specious and gaudy phrases, but that he was expressing 
 settled convictions of what the policy of England required at the 
 present juncture of her affairs. 
 
 The sentiments uttered would have sounded strange in the mouth 
 of an English Radical, but coming from a feudal lord, a scion of one 
 of the oldest houses, a representative of the territorial Aristocracy of 
 England, they were really startling for their novelty, if for nought 
 else. When he spoke the following words, Lord Stanley seemed 
 fully to know their import. His manner was impassioned, his ges 
 ture ardent, and his voice vibrated : 
 
 " On the cordial and united intercourse of Great Britain and the 
 " United States must depend the hopes of mankind. In this
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 277 
 
 " question were identified the best interests of hundreds of million.;* 
 " of the Anglo-Saxon race. It rests with England and the United 
 " States to accomplish the mighty future. He who sought to dis- 
 " turb the good feeling between the tico mighty nations, or to impede 
 " the success of the one or the other, teas an enemy to Enyland." 
 (Cheers.) 
 
 Not a hundred volumes could convey more positively than these 
 stirring words the amazing revolution in the public mind, above 
 all, in the Aristocratic mind, of England, that has occurred within 
 a recent period respecting the United States. That the industrial 
 and trading classes should discard prejudice and cling to their 
 interests ; that the middle class, in spite of their loyalty and dread 
 of innovation, should yield, at times, to Democratic sympathies, 
 and that both should extend the cordial hand of fellowship to the 
 United States, is, after all, natural enough ; but that a pillar of the 
 Oligarchy itself, a champion of his order, the future defender of 
 the Aristocratic creed, should turn towards the United States, not 
 with the aversion of a natural antagonist, crying procul, o procul 
 este, profani, but rather with the honest fervor of an enthusiast, de 
 claring that man to be " an enemy of England " who would sow 
 discord between the " two mighty nations " all this partakes so 
 largely of the marvellous as to excite wonder and inspire deep re 
 flection. 
 
 What does it prove ? Why, in a word, that the clear-eyed Aris 
 tocracy have perceived that the nation they govern, the bone and 
 sinew of the nation, has made up its mind that, for divers reasons, 
 it must be fnends with the United States, and, consequently, that 
 if they would continue to govern* they must think and act likewise. 
 This is why young Lord Stanley, a Prime Minister in embryo, ap 
 peared at the " Mansion House " in April last, and in a strain of
 
 278 FOREIGN OFFICE VERSUS 
 
 eloquence no report could portray, declared that the "mighty 
 future " was in the hands of the Anglo-Saxon race. 
 
 This is why, too, that two months later, June 1 6, Mr. Disraeli 
 rose in his place in the House of Commons, and recommended 
 that an opportunity should be taken " of inquiring calmly what 
 is the cause of these painful and frequently recurring misunder 
 standings with a country between which and ourselves there ought 
 to be such constant sympathy and such cordial alliance." 
 
 From the grave rebuke administered on this occasion to the 
 Foreign Office, it was evident that the decided language of the 
 "City" had made its way to the "West-end," and Mr. Disraeli, 
 with the readiness of a politician out of place, and with the astute 
 ness and boldness characteristic of the man, seized upon it to read 
 the Government a homily on its mistaken policy which is not 
 likely to be forgotten. 
 
 Before quoting further from the novel and pungent remarks of 
 Mr. Disraeli, it may be as well, for my American readers, to say a 
 word of his actual position in the House of Commons. No one 
 in the United States is likely to ask who is Disraeli, for his name, 
 as identified with a chef tfceuvre of literary skill, is as familiar to 
 the world of literature there as in his own countiy. The interest 
 excited by his youthful prowess as a writer of romance has fol 
 lowed him in his political career, and his valiant struggles with the 
 prejudices, piled mountain high, against his plebeian origin, have, 
 perhaps, enlisted a certain democratic sympathy in his fortunes. 
 
 It was considered by us a triumph of genius, surpassing all 
 former exploits, that from the despised of the " country party," the 
 very essence of aristocratic intolerance, he should rise to be its leader 
 and master in '52. Since then strange things have come to 
 pass, and the " country party" has discovered that the surest way
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 27 G 
 
 to prevent a popular assault upon tlie citadel of aristocratic mo 
 nopoly is to throw down their arms and disband. The consequence 
 is, that Mr. Disraeli finds himself in the anomalous position of a 
 General without an army, and thus the talents of the most brilliant 
 debater of the House of Commons, and, likely, as able a states 
 man as any, are obliged to go a-begging. 
 
 Disraeli, however, is not the man to rust away in sloth, and his 
 powers of vaticination must be keen enough to convince him that 
 the " Dead Sea" in English politics must soon be passed, and that 
 stirring work awaits all those who may be found on the opposite 
 shore. He keeps his armor on, therefore, and loses no fit occasion 
 to break a lance with the champions of exploded ideas. Seeing 
 that Lord Stanley had fearlessly taken the field against the Foreign 
 Office, as related, he as resolutely followed his lead, and began his 
 speech as quoted. What he further said was too new and striking 
 not to be recorded, and I can well imagine the emotions of sorrow, 
 if not of anger, awakened in the mind of the Prime Minister, as 
 the warning words of the orator fell on his reluctant ears. Thus 
 spoke Mr. Disraeli : 
 
 " Sir, it is impossible to suppose that the recruiting, or the mode 
 " in which it was conducted, especially after the apologies which were 
 1 offered by the Government, can really be the cause of the mis- 
 ' understanding which has unhappily occurred. I want to know 
 ' why the United States Government, even admitting their cause to 
 ' be a good one, is so prompt, if not eager, to insist upon immediate 
 ' reparation ? It 'will be well if we take this opportunity I do not 
 ' mean this evening, but before these great questions are settled 
 ' of arriving at some definite result upon this point. It would be 
 1 wise if England would at last recognize that the United States, 
 ' like all the great countries of Europe, have a policy, and that 
 1 they have a right to have a policy. I observe in the papers which 
 ' have been laid upon the table of the House that the American 
 ' Minister who is here commenced his communications with Her 
 ' Majesty's Government by saying that he thought it right to 
 ' announce that the President had adopted the Monroe doctrine as
 
 280 FOREIGN OFFICE VEKSt'3 
 
 " the foundation of his system of government. Now, Sir, the 
 " Monroe doctrine is one which, with great respect to the Govern- 
 " ment of the United States, is not, in my opinion, suited to the age 
 ' in which we live. The increase in the means of communication 
 ' between Europe and America have made one great family of the 
 ' Governments of the world, and that system of government which, 
 ' instead of enlarging, would restrict the diplomatic relations 
 ' between those two quarters of the globe is a system which is not 
 ' adapted to this age. In making that observation, however, I 
 ' would say that it would be ivise in England not to regard with the 
 f extreme jealousy with which she has hitherto looked upon it any 
 " extension of the territory of the United States beyond the bounds 
 " ivhich were originally fixed to it. I hold that that is not a good 
 ' policy which is founded on the idea that ice should regard with 
 " extreme jealousy the so-called 'aggressive' spirit of the United 
 " States. (Hear, hear.) I am of opinion that the treaty concluded 
 ' by Lord Ashburton was one of the wisest diplomatic acts that 
 ' has been performed in modern times, at least in this country 
 ' (hear, hear) ; that it was the indication of a sound and liberal 
 ' policy, and that those who oppose it are the supporters of a 
 ' policy which is regarded by the Government of the United 
 ' States as one hostile to the legitimate development of their power. 
 ' (Hear, hear.) Moreover, I am persuaded that it is the belief 
 ' on the part of the United States that the British Government is 
 ' animated by such sentiments in their regard which has excited the 
 "feeling that has seized upon the enlistment question as a means of 
 " expressing their dissatisfaction and distrust. (Hear, hear.) It is 
 " through no desire to introduce controversial questions on the 
 " present occasion that I venture to offer these remarks (hear, hear), 
 " but simply because I wish to remind the House that such is the 
 " feeling which prevails in America (hear) ; and that, if it is always 
 " to be impressed upon England that she is to regard every expan- 
 " sion of the United States as an act detrimental to her interests 
 " and hostile to her power, we shall be pursuing a course which 
 " will not prevent that expansion on the part of the States, but 
 " which will involve this country in struggles that may prove of the 
 " most disastrous character. (Hear, hear.) / remember ichat 
 " extreme jealousy existed a few years ago in this House in conse- 
 " quence of the conquest of California by the United States. (Hear). 
 " That was an event which was looked forward to with the gravest, 
 " alarm, and one from which the most calamitous results were antici- 
 " pated. Have any of those gloomy forebodings been realized ? 
 " (Hear.) I would ask the House how far the balance of power has 
 " been injured by the conquest of California by America (hear, hear), 
 " and whether there is any event since the discovery of America
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 281 
 
 " which Jias contributed more materially to the wealth, end, 
 
 ' throiigh the wealth, to the power of this country than the develop- 
 
 ' ment of the ric't, resources of California by me ins of the United 
 
 ' States ? (Hear, hear.) These things are worthy of considera- 
 
 ' tion ; for, believe me, sooner or later we shall have to adopt 
 
 1 clear and definite opinions on this subject ; and, indeed, I 
 
 ' cannot hesitate to express my belief that if sounder views 
 
 ' with respect to it had prevailed in this country, the Goverii- 
 
 : ment might not have felt themselves justified in taking a 
 
 course with regard to the Enlistment question which, whatever 
 
 ' may be its immediate consequences, certainly has not terminated 
 
 ' in a manner flattering to the honour of the nation or grateful to 
 
 { the feelings of any class of Her Majesty's subjects. (Hear, hear.) 
 
 " These are the two points to which the 'noble Lord, to whom we are 
 
 " indebted for this discussion, has particularly referred. For my 
 
 " own part, I look on all that has happened with regard to the Enlist- 
 
 " ment question as indicative of the distrust ichich prevails in the 
 
 " United States, and which has its origin in the conviction that the 
 
 "policy of this country is hostile to the legitimate development of their 
 
 " poice'r. It is my opinion that all that America has fairly a right 
 
 " to expect she may obtain, without injury either to Europe in, 
 
 ' general or to England in particular (hear), and that it is the busi- 
 
 ' ness of a statesman to recor/nize the necessity of an increase in her 
 
 1 power, and at the same time to make her understand that she will 
 
 ' most surely accomplish all the objects she proposes to herself by 
 
 ' recognizing those principles cf international law (hear) which in 
 
 ' civilized communities have always been upheld (hear), and to irn- 
 
 ' press upon her that, instead of vaunting that she will build her 
 
 1 greatness on the Monroe doctrine, which is the doctrine of isolation, 
 
 ' she should seek to attain it by deferring to the public law of 
 
 ' Europe, and by allowing her destiny to be regulated by the same 
 
 " high principles of policy which all nations which have great des- 
 
 " tinies to accomplish have invariably recognized." (Cheers.) 
 
 It was like robbing a miser of his wealth, or, more appro 
 priately, depriving a warrior of his arms, for Lord Pnliaerston 
 thus to be solemnly told that he must henceforth give up his 
 "extreme jealousy" of the territorial development of the United 
 States. There is little doubt the illustrious Viscount has hitherto 
 regarded America, in the spirit of a true diplomatic Nimrod, as 
 the richest preserve a going for a good day's sport, when the
 
 282 FOREIGN OFFICE VE113US 
 
 dullness of European politics drove him across the Atlantic for the 
 exercise of his skill. What must be his chagrin thus to be noti 
 fied that he must abandon his favourite haunt for so many years 
 past, and how deep his annoyance to see more than one candidate 
 for his place map out the policy which the Foreign Office he has 
 so long controlled must hereafter adopt. 
 
 May I be permitted to divine if in such an hour of retribu 
 tion as this the remembrance of his luckless Yankee protege 
 crossed his mind, and whose only offence was the venial one of 
 Laving sought to protect his patron from the mortification that 
 has finally overtaken him? Whether the noble Premier has 
 allowed a sigh of regret to escape him or not at the chance 
 recollection of all the tribulations which he might so easily and 
 magnanimously have averted from the head of the helpless 
 victim of Timothy Brown, it is impossible, of course, to say ; but 
 I appeal to the most obdurate of my readers, and demand if I 
 have not reason to congratulate myself on the triumphant vindi 
 cation which fate has awarded me. 
 
 What had I not suffered for my conscientious scruples ? What 
 had I not sacrificed from a sense of duty? What martyrdom 
 not undergone from a conviction of right? Prom dinners at 
 Broadlands, and marked favour at the Foreign Office, I had fallen, 
 first, under suspicion ; thence descended into the chilly regions of 
 " Coventry ;" next, was called on to undergo a series of stunning 
 rebuffs that were each expected to be mortal, and which it was my 
 cruel destiny to survive only to be, finally, plunged into a diplo 
 matic " inferno " from which Dante might have imbibed new inspi 
 rations, and lent new horror to the diabolical conceptions of his 
 high-wrought fancy. More fortunate, however, than many better 
 men who had preceded me, and thanks to the elasticity of a
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 2S3 
 
 Yankee disposition, which thrives on pressure, I have lived to see 
 iny merciless foe the Foreign Office brought to the bar of 
 public opinion in its turn, emphatically accused of long and heavy 
 dereliction, and formally condemned, on pain of utter demolition, 
 *' to go and sin no more." 
 
 Have I not reason, then, to rejoice, aad could I in fairness be 
 censured for a rude expression of feeling, were I to give utterance 
 to my exuberant spirits in the boastful lines of the rhymster : 
 
 " Oh, Victory ! Joyful Victory ! 
 Like love, thou bringest sorrow ; 
 And, yet, for such an hour with theo, 
 Who would not die to-morrow ? " 
 
 Still, I would not have it thought now, or hereafter, that I have 
 anything in common with that vindictive spirit which, in my 
 unhappy case, stimulated the Foreign Office and its well-chosen 
 agents at Turin and Genoa to such discreditable acts ; nor would 
 I expose myself to the charge of an indecent display of facetious- 
 ness at the rare humiliation which has befallen an old antagonist. 
 No ; rather let me, oblivious of my own small crosses, and mindful 
 only of the real gravity and dignity of the subject, rise to the mag 
 nitude of the consoling fact that, albeit the Foreign Office disdain 
 fully spurned the services and advice of safe, though humble, 
 guidance, it has at last been forced to listen to the stern voice of 
 rebuke, and bid to mend its crotchetty ways and bend its perverse 
 spirit to the exigencies of the epoch and the interests of the nation.
 
 284 THE LEX TA.LIONIS. 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 THE LEX TALION1S. 
 
 In the course of the present volume I have been obliged, by 
 the harsh necessity of a false position, to carry on a sort of guerilla 
 warfare with the ordinary standards of propriety in matters of 
 private concern ; and the result of a long continuance in sin has 
 overtaken me in that recklessness which makes me not only in 
 different to what may be thought of past offences, but hardens me 
 for the commission of new and, perhaps, more flagrant ones. 
 Before closing, I am vastly tempted to venture upon further revela 
 tions of diplomatic secrets ; but this time, instead of diving again 
 into the recesses of Downing-street, I am inclined to set off in 
 quest of them to Washington. I feel far less dismayed at the 
 consequences of such imprudence in that familiar latitude, for, 
 accustomed as we Americans are to all forms and kinds of pub 
 licity, which, in fact, is the corner-stone of our system, I have 
 little to fear from official frowns or social censure. 
 
 In England, some fifty years ago, exclusiveness was all the rage, 
 and any publicity beyond the dry announcements of the Court 
 Circular, or the stereotyped paragraphs of the Morning Post, was 
 pronounced vulgar, and put under Aristocratic ban. But in these 
 rough, practical, and Democratic times, nous avons change tout cela, 
 and little favor is now shown to canons of taste, or to fastidious 
 notions of etiquette in matters where the public take an interest,
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 2S5 
 
 and think it for their g6od to be informed. This, in ray own eyes, 
 is a safer refuge, if not a better excuse, for any unavoidable infrac 
 tions of refined conventionalities I may have committed, than even 
 the personal motives, however stringent, that led to the origin of 
 this publication. I shall be gratified far beyond the utmost success 
 which can attend " my case " against the Foreign Office, if in the 
 course of this narrative I have succeeded in elucidating any points 
 hitherto involved in doubt, in correcting any false views hitherto 
 unsuspected, and in firmly establishing any truths hitherto contested. 
 It is this modest hope which has chiefly stimulated me to undertake 
 this volume, and which has sustained me in my unceremonious 
 mode of dealing with the subject. It is, likewise, this which 
 urges me to add another brief chapter to the adventures already 
 recorded, and to incur the fearful risk of wearying my already 
 sated reader. 
 
 Before saying anything of my short pilgrimage, nearly a year 
 since, to our political Mecca, I must pause to remark on the sin 
 gular chance that just at the moment I was busy collecting evi 
 dence of the past transgressions of that mischievous sprite, ^ the 
 Foreign Office, new events of great "pith and moment" should 
 transpire to add to my list and swell the magnitude of its enormi 
 ties. For several months past all England and the United States 
 have been a prey to feverish apprehensions, and every day the 
 chances of a fatal misunderstanding, ending in a calamitous war, 
 seemed to grow more menacing. The subjects in dispute between 
 the Governments appeared so frivolous that sensible people in 
 England were quite at a loss to understand hew it was possible to 
 build up &uch a mountain of pother out of so contemptible a mole 
 hill. Newspapers that were in the secret, and I may as well singla 
 out the Times at once, and newspapers that were not, accused tho
 
 2S6 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 American Government of a captious and quarrelsome disposition ; 
 and they went even farther, by charging upon the President an in 
 sane desire to provoke a war with England simply to favor his 
 chances and bolster up his hopes of a re-election. The injustice 
 of these surmises, and the absurdity of these diatribes, were pal 
 pable enough to Americans on both sides of the Atlantic, who 
 regarded them with surprise and dissatisfaction, but they were 
 received by the English public generally with unsuspecting good 
 faith, and produced that discontent and irritation it was the pur 
 pose of their principal authors to foment. 
 
 It is extraordinary enough that, with a free Press as one of their 
 boasted privileges, two nations should be gradually approaching 
 the verge of war, not so much, perhaps, from the ignorance of 
 their journalists as to facts, as from the deliberate misrepre 
 sentations of them through passion, or mistaken views of interest. 
 That such an anomaly should ever occur is, no doubt, a pro 
 found consolation to sceptical Despots, but that the evil apparently 
 aimed at did not ensue, is a proof that the instruction spread by a 
 free Press is capable of curing its occasional excesses. 
 
 Now that the smoke of fiery discussion has cleared away, and 
 the clash of diplomatic " passages at arms" has ceased, let us 
 dispassionately look about, and find out the cause of all this dis 
 order. Depend on it, where there has been so mi'ch difficulty and 
 danger with no real reason for it, there has been seme malignant 
 spirit, some " damned lago" secretly at work to compass its own 
 ends to the ruin of everybody else's. When I gravely lift my finger 
 and point to that gazza ladra, the Foreign Office, which is always 
 trying to steal away the peace of nations, and roundly aasert that 
 it alone is at the bottom of all this rumpus, incredulous people 
 will cry pshaw, and others will suspect I am only trying to pile
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 28? 
 
 " Peiion on Ossa," in order to bring my former adversary more 
 surely to the ground. In spite, however, of disbelief or insinuation 
 I persist firmly in my allegation, and will endeavour to convince 
 all sober people that I am not setting down " aught in malice." 
 
 I have already stated, what is worthy all credence, and which 
 stands to reason, that the long course of adverse interference in 
 American affairs on the part of the Foreign Office, first in Texas, 
 Oregon, and California ; next in Cuba. Central America, Dominica, 
 and the Lord knows where beside, has engendered in the Govern 
 ment and people of the United States surprise, vexation, and, 
 finally, a spirit of resistance. It was perfectly well known, as I 
 have said, both to the American Government and people that 
 neither the commercial classes nor people of England, had anything 
 to do with this, and that it proceeded either from aristocratic jea 
 lousy or mistaken policy ; but the necessity of resisting it, at all 
 hazards, was manifest, tho' it may have been secretly hoped the 
 good sense of England would interfere when the crisis became 
 threatening. 
 
 In Texas and California the Foreign Office was resisted and de 
 feated, but in Oregon, perhaps unfortunately, a compromise was 
 agreed upon. The natural effect of this and other successes has 
 been only to inflate its vanity and to encourage its pretensions, 
 until, at last what does the reader think until, at last, the un 
 happy Secretary for American Foreign Affairs, Mr. Marcy, vas just 
 as good as locked up in his own office and the key put in tho pocket 
 of the representative at Washington of the Downing Street esta 
 blishment, Mr. Crampton. This is figurative language, but the fact 
 is not exaggerated. Mr. Crarnpton, backed by his sympathetic 
 colleague, the Count Sartiges, Minister of France, kept up a sur 
 veillance so active, pertinacious and carping over the suspected, but
 
 288 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 unoffending, American Secretary, that if lie had not been one of 
 the most enduring and long- suffering Diplomatists in the world, 
 would have led to dire disasters some time before they really came. 
 
 It will not do for me to venture helter-skelter upon staggering 
 assertions about great personages like these, without laying down 
 some positive proofs of my title to belief. I know it, and for 
 this reason I will ask my readers to accompany me on a flying 
 visit to Washington, and the last I will require them to make in 
 my company. 
 
 I will say little, by way of introduction, of Mr. W. L. Marcy, 
 Secretary of State for the Foreign "Department," as it is styled 
 in the United States. At home everybody must recollect his 
 career, and abroad no one would likely take much interest in it. 
 
 'His political life has been a long one, and eminently successful, 
 and he has reached the patriarchal age of three-score and ten, with 
 a reputation for diplomatic adroitness that qualified him admirably 
 to cope, not merely with Messrs. Crampton and Sartiges, at 
 Washington, but with their far more formidable masters in Europe. 
 It was well for the United States, and perhaps for other nations, that 
 such a man as Mr. Marcy, so profoundly versed in the art I will 
 not say of chicanery but of diplomacy, was at the helm of affairs at 
 the critical period we have just passed through. 
 
 Mr. Marcy; when, in March, 1853, he took possession of the 
 " State Department," knew the exact condition of the public 
 mind of the country. Averse to war, above all other countries, 
 with Great Britain, and by no means intoxicated on the point of 
 foreign acquisitions, it was yet resolutely bent on exercising its own 
 judgment in matters pertaining to its own welfare, without regard 
 to the opinions of third parties. Now, had Mr. Marcy been an 
 ambitious or a designing politician, he could hardly have desireC
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 289 
 
 a better occasion than this to carry out his purposes or to gratify 
 n thirst for historical renown. It is strange, indeed, having: 
 
 >J ' O 
 
 achieved so much eclat as Secretary of War, under President Polk, 
 in the campaign against Mexico, that he was not tempted to try 
 his luck again on a grander scale of operations. That he has, on 
 the contrary, resisted with unyielding firmness the enterprising 
 spirit of the country, and borne with such praise-worthy composure 
 the provocations heaped upon him by Her Britannic Majesty's 
 Foreign Office, does equal credit to his patriotism and Statesman 
 ship. 
 
 Anxious to comply with the wishes of the country by adding 
 to our possessions the much-coveted prize of Cuba, he employed all 
 his skill in seeking to obtain it by purchase, but the ubiquitous 
 Foreign Office met him at Madrid and employed its superior in 
 fluence to defeat him. Soaring aloft on his diplomatic wings, he 
 fled to the uttermost parts of the earth and tried his luck in nego 
 tiation at the Sandwich Islands ; but he was stealthily followed by 
 that prying, inquisitive " det-ctiv..," the Foreign Office, and forced 
 to abandon commercial advantages to which he had the justest 
 claim. Again, in Dominica, after securing, with much effort and no 
 small skill, a Treaty favorable to our trading interests in that quarter, 
 he was boldly robbed of it by the unceremonious interference of the 
 British Consul, backed by his loving colleague of France, who with 
 out explanation or apology, peremptorily forbad the submissive 
 Dominicans to comply with it. 
 
 All this was the more vexatious, not to say indecent, in 
 that brazen-faced intermeddler, the Foreign Office, after the 
 active and incessant exertions of Mr. Maroy to meet all the 
 exactions of Her Britannic Majesty's Minister at Washington, 
 by opposing and defeating, at the risk of his popularity and
 
 290 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 office, every attempt at " fillibustering " that had been detected. 
 As is generally the case, every effort of the American Secretary to 
 conciliate the agent of the Foreign Office at Washington only aug 
 mented his imperiousness, and all the sacrifices and unparalleled con 
 cessions of the badgered Mr. Marcy, failed utterly to luii the sus 
 picions or subdue the hostility of the captious, cavilling, carping 
 Mr. Crampton, who was obliged to obey instructions from Down 
 ing Street. How any mortal man could stand it, even a diplo 
 matist, who is not a whit better Christian than other men, what 
 ever his pretensions, I could not divine. It was just when Mr- 
 Marcy's persecution had reached the culminating point that I 
 made my way to Washington. I thought it would be just as well, 
 perhaps, to take advantage of the savage ill-humour I expected to 
 find him preyed upon, to " pour the leprous distilment into his 
 ear" of my ill-treatment by the same indomitable foe to Yankee 
 enterprise, whether in the east or the west. 
 
 I had heard much of Secretary Marcy's eccentric appcararce, 
 manners, and habits ; and chained by the leg for the last, two or 
 three years, and worried and tormented, as he had been, by the un 
 feeling Ministers of England and France, I really feared to approach 
 him till after applying every emollient within my reach. I had him 
 written to by some ot his best friends and nearest relatives. 
 Provided, besides, with other resources of a soothing nature, I 
 braced up my nerves for a visit to the " State Department," where 
 I presented myself at two o'clock of a hot day in July, of last year, 
 and sent in my card by the messenger in waiting. I was ushered 
 in immediately, and augured well of this beginning. I found the 
 object of so much misgiving on my part, whom I half expected 
 to find frothing at the mouth, what with the heat, and the baiting 
 he had previously undergone, quietly ensconced in a capacious
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 291 
 
 arm-chair by a shady window, with his legs lazily stretched out, 
 and his arms pleasantly folded a perfect picture of contented 
 repose. Reassured, but full of wonder at a sight in such pleasing 
 contrast to all my anticipations, I readily obeyed his invitation to 
 "take a chair." 
 
 At a glance I perceived I had to do with no ordinary 
 man. His face revealed uncommon shrewdness, but there was 
 an expression, besides, of bluntness and boldness that warned 
 au experimentalist to beware. Though I had no intention 
 of the sort, still I felt sure that " soft sawder" would be worse 
 than wasted on Secretary Marcy it might be thrown back in 
 your own face. There was no pretension to official dignity, nor 
 the least ostentation or semblance of ceremony, but on the con 
 trary, a plain, off-hand manner that put you at ease without en 
 ticing familiarity. I observed this and more whilst remarking on 
 the heat .of the weather. Whether it was his beatified air of com 
 posure that had a sort of defiance about it that piqued, though 
 it subdued at the same time I don't know, but I was seized 
 with a reckless desire to give him a shake, in the mataphorical 
 sense, and see what I could get out of him once excited. You 
 can do nothing with a man, or I suppose with a woman either, 
 until you get their blood circulating and their ideas flowing. 
 
 Everybody knows in the United States that Secretary Marcy 
 has an affliction, to which the British Foreign Office would, in 
 most people's consideration, be considered a trifle, in an edito 
 rial assailant, whose deadly aim makes the toughest politicians 
 tremble at his darts. From some old feud or other the implacable 
 Editor has for years past pursued the beleaguered Secretary through 
 ^very phase of his official life, and neither his ingenuity nor his ill- 
 will seemed to wear out in the least. 1 thought the bare mention 
 
 u
 
 292 THE LIJX TALIONIS. 
 
 of his name would infallibly convert the sang-froid of the self- 
 possessed Secretary into a torrent of lava, so I resolved to use it, 
 but in a way that would stir up emotion rather than fire in 
 dignation. 
 
 " If I had expected so pleasant a reception as this, Mr. Marcy," 
 I began, after some desultory observations, " I should have 
 brought you another letter of introduction tendered to me at 
 New York." 
 
 " Who from ?" demanded the Secretary in his laconic way. 
 
 " A former friend of yours," I returned, hesitating, and some 
 what afraid of my own gun. 
 
 " Who's he ?" enquired the unsuspecting Mr. Marcy. 
 
 " I dare say you will be surprised, but I hope not offended," I 
 said, expecting to excite his curiosity. 
 
 " Ah," said the Secretary, gaping outright. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Bennett, ot the Herald, offered me a letter- to you, 
 if I would venture to present it." 
 
 To my stupefaction, the Secretary, instead of bolting upright in 
 his chair, his eyes flashing fire, quietiy gaped again, and theu 
 asked, 
 
 "Well, why did you not bring it?" 
 
 " But what do you suppose its contents would have been ?" I 
 continued, making another desperate effort to rouse him. The 
 Secretary crossed his legs leisurely, and left me to answer my own 
 question. 
 
 " Why he meant to say that you had both been enemies long 
 enough, and that he was willing to bury the tomahawk/' 
 
 I plunged my glance into the Secretary's face, but there was no 
 more commotion there than in a frozen lake. I tell back more than 
 baulked, utterly humiliated. Wituout moving a muscle or dis-
 
 THE LEX TALIOXI3. 293 
 
 tnrbing his legs, the Secretary replied, and without mincing mat 
 ters, in his way 
 
 " Bennett's a simpleton. I am no enemy of his. I can't tell why he 
 is always writing about me !" I remember that poor old Lear, in 
 the play, was puzzled to know " the cause of thunder," but I was 
 a deal more perplexed in conjecturing the cause of such profound 
 placidity. 
 
 " Why, Bennett says," I continued, thoroughly subdued, " that 
 you played him a trick once. That you made use of him wheii 
 you ran for Governor of New York, and then repudiated him 
 afterwards." 
 
 There was something like the shadow of a smile that flickered 
 for a moment about a corner of the Secretary's dry mouth, but it 
 vanished instantly, as if unacquainted with the neighbourhood. 
 
 " Bennett has always been under a false impression. I'll tell 
 you how it was." Governor Marcy then related the amusing 
 story which I had often heard from his antagonist, but the versions 
 were, of course, different. I was glad, however, to detect the 
 dissembling Secretary diplomatising with me, for he would never 
 have wasted his time on this forgotten incident if he had not 
 sought to ingratiate his formidable adversary by expecting me to 
 repeat all he had said. 
 
 From this topic I went over directly to my own affairs. " One 
 of my objects in visiting you, Mr. Marcy," I resumed, " was to 
 ascertain if there was any remedy for my singular case, and to 
 solicit the advantage of your intervention." 
 
 *' What is it about?" demanded the Secretary in his curt 
 manner. 
 
 " I have a complaint against the British Foreign Office." 
 
 At mention of this odious name, which appeared to touch him
 
 294 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 more nearly than the one already used, the cautious Minister 
 passed his hand slowly across his face, and finished by pinching 
 his nose, which bit of pantomime conveyed, I suspected, his readi 
 ness to serve the Foreign Office in the same fashion if he could 
 ever get his fingers near enough. 
 
 " What is it ?" he enquired, after a pause. 
 
 I made then a brief statement of my case, which had already 
 reached him through various channels. "I am the more em 
 boldened," I concluded, " to appeal to you, as Lord Clarendon in 
 forms me that my claim for redress should come through my own 
 Government." 
 
 " It is all nonsense," remarked Mr. Marcy, as if soliloquising, 
 for it seemed from his countenance that he was deeply pondering 
 over the matter. 
 
 " How so ?" I exclaimed, in surprise. 
 
 " Why, if I undertake the matter," said the Secretary gravely, 
 " it is the Sardinian Government I must call to account for allowing 
 the British Minister and British Consul to interfere so grossly in 
 an affair which in no wise concerned them. I don't see, though," 
 and he stopped again to reflect " No, I don't see any good locus 
 ttandi against the British Foreign Office." 
 
 The tone of his voice, and, perhaps, something in his manner, 
 gave me the impression that the clear-headed and sure-footed man 
 presiding over the " State Department " felt quite as much regret 
 as I did that he could discover no tangible mode of obtaining 
 even a small victory over that plague of his official life, Her 
 Britannic Majesty's Foreign Office, in atonement for the endless 
 crosses it had occasioned him. His opinion was ao great dis 
 appointment to me, however, for I had come long ago to pretty 
 much the same conclusion-
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 295 
 
 "Well, then," I responded, "there is no other way left of 
 winding up the affair to my own satisfaction than to lay the whole 
 history before the world, and I am quite certain that the English 
 public will form a judgment as impartial as our own, and that the 
 Foreign Office will get the worst of it in the end, if my side is 
 jonsidered the best." 
 
 " That is your only alternative, as far as I can see," vouchsafed 
 Mr. Marcy, who seemed in no way inclined to protect the Foreign 
 Office from my shaft. " Now-a-days public opinion is your only 
 final court of appeal, both in this country and elsewhere." 
 
 The Secretary uttered these words as though he honestly be 
 lieved in them, which is not always the case with statesmen or 
 diplomatists. By this time it was clear enough'to me that the 
 apparently impassive and hardened politician before me had one 
 very tender spot, and I thought it might relieve him were I to 
 probe it a little. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Marcy," I observed, in a careless sort of a way, 
 " we have not got Cuba yet." 
 
 " No," he replied, rather grimly. 
 
 " I believe the country would like to have it, though I am not 
 sure, about the East." 
 
 " They would agree to purchase it," replied the Secretary, and, 
 of course, he knew. 
 
 " And the South ?" I queried. 
 
 " Would take it anyhow." 
 
 " Would the West oppose it, do you think ?'* 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 " What's the difficulty, then ?" 
 
 For the first time Mr. Marcy turned round in his chair. 
 
 " The English Government," he said, without any sign ol 
 anger, but I was sure he was not as contented as he looked.
 
 296 THE LEX TAFIONIS. 
 
 " What has England to fear ?" 
 
 " That's what I can't make out," returned the Secretary, 
 turning round again. " It would double her commerce there, at 
 least." 
 
 " Well, it is hardly fair," I declared, sympathetically, " for you 
 have gone very far, Mr. Marcy, everybody thinks, to sooth 
 British apprehensions." 
 
 " There is no gratitude left in the world, I do believe," exclaimed 
 the thwarted statesman, and he attempted to smile, but failed 
 signally. " Why, would you believe it," he continued, getting 
 quite restive, " they won't allow me to have even a coal-yard in 
 Dominica !" 
 
 " How absurd," I responded; "they are as bad as the old 
 Trojans with their Timeo Danaos, et dona ferenies." 
 
 I don't know what there was in the allusion, but it pacified him 
 almost instantly. Pulling down his waistcoat and smoothing away 
 his old-fashioned ruffles, he remarked, in the spirit of a true philo 
 sopher 
 
 " It requires an uncommon deal of forbearance to get along 
 comfortably in this life." 
 
 " I wonder, Governor," I said, addressing him by his customary 
 title, " that you don't give Mr. Crainpton here a bit of your 
 mind." 
 
 " For that matter, I do very often. 5 * 
 
 This made me very curious, and I bluntly asked, "Do you 
 threaten him ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; " replied the discreet Officer of State, " I only tell him 
 that he is a most unreasonable man." 
 
 This was the very language of our Prime Minister, and nothing 
 could be more bland than his voice as he spoke; but whether there
 
 THE LEX TALION1S. 297 
 
 was something in the emphasis, or in the covert glance of his eye, 
 I cannot tell, but I made up my mind on the spot that if ever Mr. 
 Crampton let his diplomatic visor drop, his head would be in 
 danger. My mind was gradually getting absorbed in meditations 
 of the most engrossing character, and I rose to go. As I pulled 
 on my gloves, I said in the way of a parting remark, " By the by, 
 Governor, I had a chat with Mr. So-and-so lately" (naming a dis 
 tinguished person), and he surprised me by pronouncing Lord 
 Palinerston greatly overrated, and that " he looked upon him as 
 little better than a blunderer and a sham." 
 
 " Mr. So-and-so is a donkey/' asserted the plain-speaking Secre 
 tary, with what sounded like a growl of hearty contempt. 
 
 I was startled at so bold an epithet applied to so prominent a 
 person, but 1 was glad, indeed, to see that the chief of the " State 
 Department " was not labouring under any illusion as to the skilful 
 adversary he had to deal with. 
 
 " However that may be," I answered, smiling, " I should say 
 that Lord Palmerston certainly was rather an awkward customer 
 to encounter in diplomacy or debate." 
 
 " Did you ever read his speech in defence of his policy in the 
 eummerof 1850?" 
 
 " Yes ; and his Lordship presented me with a corrected copy." 
 
 " Well, then, I say," and the Secretary again appeared to put 
 the utmost reliance on what he said, " that Lord Palmerston, or 
 anybody else, who could make a speech like that must be a great 
 man. Wonderful speech that ! " 
 
 For a moment I allowed him to enjoy a deep conviction undis 
 turbed, for it is rare, indeed, that a Diplomatist experiences a 
 felicity of that sort , but as I retreated to the door the Secretary 
 recovered from his momentary fit of admiration, and enquired
 
 298 THE LEX TALIONIS. 
 
 after my stay in Washington, whilst tendering me the offer of his 
 hospitality. I was obliged to leave the next morning, however, and 
 saw him no more. 
 
 Now, I may have done very wrong, indeed, in violating in this 
 outrageous manner the political sanctity of the " State Depart 
 ment," by relating as faithfully as I can recollect the rambling 
 remarks of Secretary Marcy on matters of so much delicacy and 
 moment. I don't know what the consequences may be ; and I 
 should not be astonished if my foot never crossed the threshold of 
 the "State Department" again. But it is not such a fearful 
 operation, after all, to sacrifice oneself for the good of mankind, 
 and I will cheerfully submit to all the pains and penalties of 
 " Coventry " hereafter, if my transgression should be found to 
 have a saving moral and an application. The moral that might 
 be deduced, methinks, from what I have reported is simply this. 
 That a Secretary of State is, in fact, only a mortal like the rest ; 
 and that if a Foreign Office, British or otherwise, will be con 
 stantly tripping up his heels and obstructing his fairest intentions, 
 it may be counted on as certain that he will, however patient and 
 considerate, take the first chance to avenge the past and guarantee 
 the future. 
 
 And now for the application. Need I point to the Enlistment 
 question, which, after exposing England and the United States to 
 the terrible contingencies of war, has, finally, ended with the ex 
 pulsion of the representative of the Foreign Office at Washington, 
 to say nothing of the Consuls at New York, Philadelphia, and 
 Cincinnati. 
 
 Now, can it be seriously mooted, and will any sensible person 
 believe it, that if Mr. Crampton had not acted in so " unreason 
 able " a manner, by catching maliciously hold of Secretary Marcy's
 
 THE LEX TALIONIS. 299 
 
 coat-tail, and getting the French Minister, Count Sartiges, always 
 to help him, even when the said Secretary was so innocently em 
 ployed as to be only bargaining for " a coal-yard in Dominica," 
 I ask, would Secretary Marcy, if he had been differently treated, 
 ever have taken such cruel advantage of the peccadilloes of the 
 said Crampton, when he was, at last, fairly caught and " cornered ?" 
 Most assuredly not j and this is just what Mr. Disraeli thought, 
 and boldly declared in the House of Commons. 
 
 Is it not high time, therefore, for the people of England of all con 
 ditions to look to their Foreign Office ? If it had not instructed its 
 representative at Washington to act as he did, we should never 
 have heard of the Enlistment question ; and if it had not directed 
 Messrs. Hudson and Brown to keep me locked up for fifteen 
 months in a prison at Genoa, this book would' never have been 
 written. The first was near leading to a dreadful calamity; but, 
 I trust, the latter will be infinitely more harmless in its effects.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 . _ 
 
 FROM " LA PRESSE," OF NOVEMBER 20, 1849. 
 
 THE UNITED STATES. 
 To M. EMILE DE GIRARDIN . 
 
 I have read with the liveliest sympathy the judicious articles you 
 have recently published on the Constitution of the United States. 
 
 A stranger to France, the idea of mingling in this discussion 
 would never have occurred to me, but for the reception given by the 
 Constitutionnel to the letter of a countryman of mine, Mr. Harring 
 ton, of Ohio. 
 
 If I address myself to you, in preference, it is because of all the 
 French journalists, you are the least biassed, apparently, by the con 
 clusions you may have formed. It is not any favorite system you 
 seek to establish, but rather the truth that you aim to discover. Disin 
 terestedness like this is so rare, that you are exposed to the doubts 
 of the timid and the sarcasms of the envious. The first shrink 
 from your theories, the last accuse you of insincerity. But if your 
 sacrifices and devotedness aid in resolving the problem of Govern 
 ment, you will be amply compensated, for the triumph of a just 
 idea is the rarest and the purest of victories. 
 
 The question that I propose to treat is not merely as to the organi-
 
 ii APPENDIX. 
 
 zation.of the Executive power in the United States, or as to the 
 manner it may be modelled in France. What I desire more is to 
 explain the fundamental principles upon which repose the Consti 
 tution of the United States, and to which we are indebted for 
 the durable alliance of order with liberty that pretended chimera 
 which for sixty years you have pursued in France, and which for 
 sixty years has flourished with incontestable vigour amongst us. 
 
 In order that the merit of the American Constitution may be 
 better appreciated, I will pass briefly in review what preceded it 
 
 When the North American Colonies declared their independence, 
 and undertook to constitute a government for themselves, they 
 deposited the supreme power in the hands of a Congress, consisting 
 of a single Chamber only. 
 
 In the face of all the dangers of this epoch anarchy within and 
 invasion without such was the- want of harmony in this organi 
 sation, that the confederated States would have succumbed but for 
 the extraordinary capacity of one man, General Washington. 
 
 The war finished and their independence established, the victorious 
 States felt the imperious necessity of a better organisation, and the 
 articles or bases of a new Confederation were drawn up and adopted. 
 The Supreme Power, Legislative and Executive, continued to oe con 
 fided to a single Chamber, which named three Ministers to the re 
 spective Departments of Foreign Affairs, War, and Finance. This 
 second experiment at government was not more successful than the 
 first, for after a short experience of six years, the necessity of indis 
 pensable modifications became more imperative than ever. 
 
 Two seiious defects were found in this national government. 
 
 The first was the want of sufficient power in the Executive or 
 Administrative Department. The American people were so jealous 
 of their liberty, and so mistrustful of all power, that they refused to 
 invest Congress with the power that was absolutely needed. 
 
 The second defect was more grave. The functions, so very dis 
 tinct, of legislation and administration were exercised by the same 
 body in a single Chamber. There can be no good administration 
 without the complete Unity or independence of the Administrative 
 Power. There can be no good laws if the two classes, upper and 
 lower, of every country in a word, of the Aristocracy and Demo 
 cracy, do not unite in their creation. 
 
 The Confederated States admitted with unanimity that it was im 
 possible to go on under these circumstances. This was the opinion 
 of Washington, and of all the eminent men of the day. It was, 
 also, the conviction of the people. 
 
 A Convention, composed of delegates from each State, then assem 
 bled, in order to make a third attempt at a Government that would 
 be more practicable.
 
 APPENDIX. iii 
 
 The existing 'Constitution is the result. On this occasion the 
 Supreme Power was divided. The Executive Power was confided 
 to one only. The Legislative Power was distributed between two 
 Chambers, a Senate, and a House of Representatives. This national 
 Government, in short, was only an imitation of the different State 
 Governments, which were founded on the old English Constitution, 
 where the authority was divided between the King, the Aristocracy, 
 and the people ; or, King, Lords, and Commons. 
 
 The Constitution had a complete success. It has lasted sixty 
 years,* affording the utmost, liberty, and securing the most perfect 
 order. 
 
 What is the secret of this success ? Does it belong to the Consti 
 tution itself, or has it to do with the character of the American 
 people ? 
 
 I will endeavour to pro^e that it is inherent in the Constitution. 
 The Americans are not above the level of humanity. They are in 
 telligent and patriotic ; yes, but they are governed by the same 
 passions, and influenced by the same interests as other nations. 
 
 To appreciate fully the excellence of this Constitution, let us stop 
 for a moment to consider attentively the nature of society. A poli 
 tical system, which is opposed to the nature of man, cannot endure. 
 How many Institutions in ruins encumber the path of history ! 
 
 Every community contains these three principles the Monar 
 chical, the Aristocratic, the Democratic. 
 
 These principles represent the elements of which all society is 
 composed. 
 
 Everywhere, in every eountry, there is some man who, by his in 
 telligence and force of character, is the necessary chief of the country. 
 He is the natural monarch to exclude ium from his share of power 
 would be to arm him against it.f 
 
 In every country there is a select class, formed of all its notabili 
 ties, to whom their superiority assigns the first rank. This is the 
 natural aristocracy To exclude them from their share of power 
 is, manifestly, impossible. 
 
 Finally, there is the multitude, and to exclude them from a par 
 ticipation in the Government is an error, nay, an injustice, which is 
 avenged by their eventually overthrowing every Constitution which, 
 has overlooked them. 
 
 * Sixty years from the date of this letter, 1849. 
 
 t It may seem to my foreign readers a contradiction to my theory when I assert that 
 in every country the "natural monarch" exists, and yet in my own that men of thia 
 class are, of late, excluded from the Executive chair. Such is the fact, and it may arise 
 from the jealous apprehensions of the people. Whatever the cause of exclusion, the men 
 of dominant intellect and will, that I speak of, exist, and it remains to be seen whether 
 the people of the United States are capable of debarring them permanently from power' 
 or whether it is wise to do so
 
 IV APPENDIX. 
 
 Therefore, a Constitution which admits these three elements, and 
 isdtributes the supreme power between the Monarch, the Aristocracy, 
 and the Democracy, combines all the conditions of a long duration. 
 
 The idea of this Mixed Government presented itself to the Legisla 
 tors of Antiquity. Lycurgus, in his Constitution of Sparta, sought 
 to combine these three principles, but he could not succeed in 
 balancing them. He placed the Executive power in the hands of 
 two kings. Here was a want of Unity. The error was fatal. 
 
 Romulus, the founder of Rome, adopted the same idea, and im 
 proved on the model traced by Lycurgus. He distributed the su- 
 ?reme power between the King, the Patricians, and the Plebians. 
 'he Executive Power had here the indispensable requisite of unity. 
 But Romulus, like Lycurgus, failed to harmonise these three princi 
 ples, which are naturally hostile. These principles cannot exist 
 separately, and yet all the skill of the Ancients could not succeed in 
 combining them harmoniously. 
 
 The merit of this solution was reserved for the founders of the 
 Constitution of the United States. 
 
 It is evident that the idea of blending these three principles of every 
 society is not new. The profoundest thinkers of the old world, 
 Bionysius, Polybius, and Cicero, all declared that this was the best of 
 all the forms of Government. The greatest Legislators, too, Lycurgus 
 and Romulus, endeavoured to carry it into effect. In modern times, 
 Montesquieu in France, and Brougham in England, have given their 
 adhesion to this opinion. The only difficulty consisted in the ne 
 cessity of finding an organisation such as would conciliate the 
 antagonism of these principles, and so prevent the ruin of the Go 
 vernment. This obstacle must have been grave, indeed, to require 
 so many centuries to surmount it. 
 
 What was the simplest means to put an end to this eternal 
 struggle between these principles ? Was it to weaken one and 
 strengthen the others ? No, for that was just the error of the 
 Ancients. It was necessary, on the contrary, to establish a perfect 
 equality between them. This was the precise aim of the American 
 Legislators. How did they effect it ? Why, by a simple system, 
 or combination of checks and balances, perpetual and reciprocal. 
 In this way these principles preserve the necessary freedom to their 
 perfect action, whilst they are prevented from falling into those ex 
 cesses which destroy that equality, ponderation, and independence, 
 which are indispensable. 
 
 Let us look into this. 
 
 The Executive power, or Monarchical principle, of the American 
 Constitution is confided to a single person called the President. 
 The first great check applied to him is the limited time he holds 
 office that is fixed at four years. Again, he can do nothing with-
 
 APPENDIX. y 
 
 out the concurrence of the other powers. He can make neither war 
 nor peace. Even his nomination to places are of no weight until 
 approved by the Senate. But, on the other hand, to make the 
 Executive the slave of the other powers would be to violate the 
 balance of the Constitution. To preserve his independence, there 
 fore, the Executive is armed with a veto. Yet, this dangerous privi 
 lege is limited in its turn. The Executive has, also, the right to 
 retain or dismiss his Ministers at his pleasure ; no obstacle what 
 ever interferes. Without entering into further details, it is seen 
 that, in our Constitution, the Monarchical principle enjoys its greatest 
 virtue, that of Unity, without which no Constitution can succeed. 
 
 The Aristocratic power, or principle, is represented by a body 
 called the Senate, composed of the most eminent men of the country. 
 The number is limited to two for each State, whether large or small. 
 Thus, the States are equalised, whatever the difference of their 
 population or wealth. This power has, in all times, exercised a pre 
 ponderance by the superiority of its intelligence, but the American 
 Constitution, whilst honoring it, has made no exception in its 
 favor to its system of checks. In the first place, the duration of the 
 Senatorial term is limited to six years, instead of for life. Again, 
 it shares all its legislative functions with the second or Democratic 
 power, and all its executive duties with the President, personifying 
 the Monarchical principle. But although the privilege of inde 
 pendent action has not been conceded, yet this important power has 
 not been rendered subordinate. Its independence has been carefully 
 preserved, for it can refuse, on its own responsibility, to act with the 
 other powers. The essential merit of this power or principle, which 
 is that of Conservatism, has been displayed by many striking ser 
 vices to the country. 
 
 The Democratic power or principle is represented by a body called 
 the House of Representatives. This power, also, has been regu 
 lated with the utmost nicety. It has no executive functions what 
 ever, and its legislative acts are performed in common with the 
 Senate. Still, its independence is guaranteed ; for it alone has the 
 right to originate any financial measure. It has, also, the privilege 
 to impeach the President, but to the Senate is reserved the pre 
 rogative of sitting on his trial 
 
 The wise founders of our Constitution foresaw the danger which 
 would environ the Democratic principle if it were left alone to con 
 tend with its rival principles the Monarchical and Aristocratic. 
 Convinced that these would endeavour, as always, to control it or to 
 corrupt it, they settled upon two years as the proper term for the 
 delegates of the people, concluding that this short period would 
 preserve them from any serious temptations. The Democratic 
 principle possesses one immense excellence that of the spirit of
 
 VI APPENDIX. 
 
 Progress. For a Government to feel the salutary effect of this 
 quality, however, it should be united always with the Conservative 
 spirit the essence of the Aristocratic principle and the two cannot 
 act efficaciously without that Unity which is the prime essential of 
 the Monarchical principle. 
 
 The Ancients did not succeed, as -we know, in reconciling these 
 three principles. Wherefore ? The cause of their failure is not to 
 be explained by imputing the blame either to the Monarchical, Aris 
 tocratic, or Democratic principles. Each of these naturally obeys 
 the known laws of human nature, and seizes upon the Sovereign 
 Power whenever it can. 
 
 How to prevent one encroaching on the others was just the object 
 at which the American Legislators aimed. Twice they broke down, 
 but were triumphant in their third attempt, and the Constitution, of 
 which I have given so imperfect an analysis, is the result. 
 
 This model Government has been everywhere adopted throughout 
 the United States. Every town has its Mayor and two Councils, 
 upper and lower ; every State has its Governor and two Chambers, 
 the Senate and House o'f Representatives. 
 
 For the three elements I have spoken of are found as well in the 
 village as in the nation ; and the first condition for a regular and tran 
 quil Government is to secure a legal orbit for the fundamental princi 
 ples which represent them. 
 
 By way of comparison, this Mixed Government may be said to 
 resemble the mechanism which indicates the passage of time. The 
 nature of the Democratic principle, Progress, may be likened to the 
 mainspring, which is incessantly at work ; whilst Conservatism, the 
 attribute of the Aristocratic principle, is represented by the wheel- 
 work ; and Unity, the essence of the Monarchical principle, is the 
 regulator, which gives steadiness to the whole. 
 
 As long as the balance, established with so much felicity by our 
 great Legislators, is scrupulously maintained, the Constitution of the 
 United States will endure unshaken. 
 
 I will explain how this exact counterpoise might be disturbed in, 
 commenting on the Constitution of another country. This investi 
 gation, however, I shall reserve for a second letter. 
 
 HiiXJJY WlKOFF, 
 
 <tf New York.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Vll 
 
 " LA PRESSE," OF DECEMBER 12, 1849. 
 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 To EMILE DE GERAKDIN 
 
 In my last letter I proposed to show how a Constitution founded 
 on the three principles in question, the Monarchical, Aristocratic, 
 and Democratic, may yet be overthrown. I said I should take, for 
 an example, the Constitution of another country. That country is 
 England, and the Constitution so violated is the famous British Con 
 stitution. In undertaking this serious examination, I beg to submit 
 certain personal reflections. 
 
 To treat a political question connected with my own country was 
 comparatively easy. The subject was familiar, and I had no fear, 
 above all. of wounding any prejudices. But how many irritated 
 feelings will rise against me on venturing to touch on European 
 politics ? An American who speaks of Europe is always under the 
 apprehension of falling into one of two errors either of giving way 
 to enthusiasm or yielding to a spirit of injustice. A plain Repub 
 lican, the splendour of her opulence dazzles him, and the prestige of 
 her renown overwhelm him. A severe Democrat, the inequality of 
 ranks offend him, and the misery of the populations shock him. 
 
 In endeavouring to guard against weakness on one hand, and 
 prejudice on the other, I hope to show myself more sensible of the 
 honor, Sir, you have done me, as well as more worthy of the con 
 fidence of my readers. 
 
 The English cannot deny me the privilege of discussing their 
 Constitution, for they have carried, even to abuse, the common 
 right of investigation, in attacking with virulence, not merely the 
 institutions of my country, but likewise its society. I will avoid 
 imitating such an example, but will endeavour rather to treat the 
 question in a philosophical spirit, and with all the consideration 
 that becomes a descendant of the mother country. In fine, I will 
 seek to be moderate in order to be just. 
 
 There are some striking contrasts that offer, at once, between the 
 Constitutions of England and the United States. The one dates from 
 yesterday ; the other from many centuries, The one is traditional ; the 
 
 X
 
 Vii! APPENDIX. 
 
 other is written. But for all the rest the resemblance is easy to ex 
 plain, for one is the product of the other. 
 
 The three great fundamental principles, Monarchical, Aristocratic, 
 and Democratic, were borne across the sea by those independent and 
 resolute Puritans, who preferred the pain of exile to the chagrin of 
 seeing the equilibrium of a Mixed Government destroyed. They were 
 wedded to the belief that it was the only form of government which 
 guaranteed the liberty of each with the security of all. They carried 
 with them, also, imbedded in their very natures, those inestimable 
 institutions Trial by Jury, and the act of Habeas Corpus, which soon 
 took root in a soil dedicated to the growth of liberty. 
 
 The English boast of their ancient Constitution, and they have 
 great reason to do so, since it affords for the security of person and 
 property such guarantees as do not exist, and never have existed, 
 elsewhere in Europe. 
 
 From whence comes this glorious distinction ? Their history 
 explains it. 
 
 After the Conquest, in 1066, by the Normans. King William and 
 his warrior-barons found themselves in a country conquered but 
 still hostile. Exposed to the same dangers, and impelled by the same 
 voracity for the common prey, they lived for a time in amity. 
 
 But, as in all times and all countries, the natural jealousy between 
 the Monarchy and the Aristocracy broke out, and a struggle of in 
 terest, coupled with ambition, began. The English people, profoundly 
 indifferent to the aims of either, looked only to what concerned them 
 selves ; and during several centuries they gave their support at one 
 time to the King, and at another to the Barons, on condition of certain 
 privileges which they exacted. In this way was brought forth the 
 Magna Charta ; from hence sprung the act or Habeas Corpus ; hence, 
 also, the right of the Commons to share with the Barons (the Lords) in 
 Parliament the legislation of the country ; hence, finally, by degrees, 
 the division of the Supreme Power between the King, the Barons, 
 and the people King, Lords, and Commons. 
 
 Carried away by its jealous hatred, and by the fears which the 
 Royal prerogatives inspired, the Aristocracy always rallied to the 
 side of the Democracy in its attacks upon the common enemy, until 
 the downfall, at last, of the Royalty decapitated. 
 
 Under Cromwell, the Monarchy disappeared, but the Aristocracy 
 was, also, levelled, and thus the old Constitution teas violated. 
 
 Up to that epoch the Mixed Government, Monarchical, Aristocratic, 
 and Democratic, existed. Its attributes, it is true, were badly as 
 sorted ; the necessary limits were not defined ; but, although the 
 indispensable balance was not attained, an approximation towards 
 it was made. 
 
 The Aristocracy soon saw the error they had committed, and they
 
 APPENDIX. ix 
 
 set to work to repair it. By their efforts the Monarchy was restored, 
 and, then, the struggle between the rival principles recommenced. 
 
 Once more the Monarchy sought to wield its prerogatives, 
 and again the Aristocracy opposed it, but this time with greater 
 moderation. The people, as usual, joined readily in the conflict. 
 James II refused to reign without governing, and rather than yield, 
 he abandoned the country. 
 
 The Sovereign power then fell into the hands, jointly, of the Aris 
 tocracy and Democracy. The first was ready for the crisis ; the 
 latter found itself without a leader, but both were unanimous in their 
 hatred of absolute Monarchy. "William III accepted the part allotted 
 to the new Royalty, and agreed to give up the exercise of the execu 
 tive power.* 
 
 This was the result of the Revolution of 1688. 
 
 The ancient British Constitution, which distributed the supreme 
 authority between the three great elements of the State, ceased to 
 exist. The Mixed Government, which had grown out of the Norman 
 conquest, which was better organised, and longer established than 
 anywhere else in the world, was destroyed a second time, in 1688, by 
 the abolition of the Monarchical principle. The shadow of this prin 
 ciple has always survived, but the shadow only. 
 
 The Aristocratic and Democratic principles then remained standing 
 face to face. As it was impossible to establish any balance between 
 them, it was necessary for the tranquillity of the country that one or 
 the other should abandon its pretensions to power. 
 
 The Aristocracy had on its side all the superior intellect as well 
 as the wealth of the country ; but neither one nor the other of the 
 rival principles had any force at its command. Intelligence and 
 skill naturally triumphed, and since 161 years the Aristocratic prin 
 ciple has wielded the Government in England. 
 
 The Aristocracy, by the simplest manoeuvres, has entirely suc 
 ceeded, up to the present time, in paralysing its rival principles. 
 
 At the beginning the usage was established that Ministers 
 should retire after a hostile vote of Parliament. The Executive thus 
 fell into insignificance the moment it had no longer the right to re 
 tain its Ministers, who depended, as is seen, on the good will of Par 
 liament. Monarchy in England thus became a mere form. In fact, 
 it has preserved neither power nor independence. 
 
 The Democratic principle was not long in disappearing from the 
 House of Commons, for its members, being elected by the middle 
 class, and holding their seats for seven years, have always fallen. 
 
 * He f aid to the deputation from Parliament, that " he would always ask the adrica 
 of Parliament, aud that he would ever trust to its judgment rather than his own." 
 History of England, by Macaulay, vol. 1, page 524.
 
 X APPENDIX. 
 
 under the control of the Aristocracy, who retain in their hands 
 not only all the honors, but, also, all the resources of the State. 
 Since 1688 the masses have never, by any constitutional means, 
 exercised their legitimate influence over the legislation ofthe country. 
 The suffrage is so limited,* and elections are made so expensive in 
 England, that the people are obliged to have recourse to threats and 
 to tumultuous assemblages in order to be heard. It is thus apparent 
 how two of those three elementary principles of all governments 
 have been suppressed in England. We may be surprised that they 
 should have submitted for so long a time to the deprivation of their 
 just share in the division of power, but we are forced to admire the 
 art, both ingenious and profound, with which the Aristocratic prin 
 ciple has contrived to maintain its ascendancy. 
 
 To understand this more fully, it will be necessary to establish 
 the existence of four great influences in every society, founded on 
 the strongest passions of the human heart. These four influences 
 are the love of religion, of war, of knowledge, and of gain. These 
 predominating influences are represented, or, as one might say, put to 
 profit, by four powerful classes the Priest, the Soldier, the Thinker, 
 and the Capitalist. 
 
 The endless struggle between these influences to subjugate society 
 to their will is the secret of all those convulsions which make the his 
 tory of the world. The better to succeed they ally themselves in 
 variably to one or the other of the constituent principles of the 
 government. At one time they abandon the Monarchical principle 
 for the Aristocratic, and, at others, divided between themselves, 
 they sustain one principle against the other. In the United States 
 these influences have occasionally striven to acquire an ascendancy 
 over one or all of these elementary principles. The Religious,t the 
 Military,! and the Literary influences have failed, but the Finan 
 cial influence succeeded in establishing a connection with the Go 
 vernment, from which sprung Protective laws and a National Bank. 
 Hence arose our political dissensions. 
 
 The Democratic principle perceiving, at last, that this influence 
 was disposed, from its nature, to aid in the undue development of 
 its rival principles, struggled hard to break off the tie. In conse- 
 sequence the National Bank was overthrown, and the Protective 
 laws are fast giving way. The tranquillity of the country will be 
 
 * The electors for Great Britain and Ireland do not much exceed one million, for a 
 population of near 30 millions. 
 
 t Such is the state of religions tolerance amongst us, that sects are innumerable, and 
 their mutual jealousy entirely prevents any connection between them and Government. 
 
 It may be said we have no Army, so limited ia its numbers.
 
 APPENDIX. Xi 
 
 more firmly established when once the influence of the Financial 
 class no longer weighs upon any of these principles .-that LS to say, 
 upon the Government. 
 
 Let us return to England ! 
 
 How acted the Aristocratic principle in 1688, in the presence of 
 these four influences exercising great sway in the midst of an ad 
 vanced civilisation ? Intoxicated with its power, did it blindly 
 make war on them ? Did it en rage the Religious class by seizing on 
 the rich revenues of the English Church ? Did it refuse honors 
 and wealth to the Military class ? Did it irritate the Financial class 
 by not promulgating any law which increased its gains ? Did it 
 turn the pen of the Thinkers against itself by refusing to them 
 either places or pensions. No ! The Aristocratic principle, en 
 lightened by experience, understood its interests far better. 
 
 A sagacity beyond all precedent has brilliantly distinguished this 
 principle in England. Instead of wrangling or displaying any 
 sordidness with these powerful classes, it accorded liberally all that 
 was exacted. To the Church, it left its revenues. To the Army, it 
 gave nobility and wealth. To the Capitalists, it granted a National 
 Bank* and Protective Laws. To the Thinkers, it awarded pensions 
 and lucrative sinecures. Thus strengthened and supported, the 
 Aristocratic Government of England has lasted 161 years. It has 
 been pretty rudely shaken now and then; as, for example, in 1832, 
 when it had the air of yielding to the Democratic principle its 
 proper share in the representation, but escaped that emergency 
 by its ingenious Reform Sill, which enacted that henceforth 
 every town should have two representatives or members in the 
 House of Commons. It followed, therefore, that twenty-four small 
 towns, under Aristocratic domination, with a population of 132,000 
 inhabitants, were represented in Parliament by 48 members, whilst 
 the democratic town of Manchester, with a population of 240,000, 
 had no more than 2 members. 
 
 More recently, in 1845, the Democratic principle accomplished, 
 it is true.- a decisive victory in abolishing the Corn Laws. 
 
 Before pronouncing any judgment upon this Aristocratic Govern 
 ment, there are two important enquiries to be made. 
 
 First, has it contributed to the welfare of society, or only pro 
 moted the interests of the classes that support it ? 
 
 Next, what is the probable duration of this Government under 
 such circumstances ? 
 
 To demonstrate how much the great majority of the community 
 suffers, it is only necessary to cite the facts that daily arise, and 
 
 The Bank of England was founded in 1C94.
 
 301 APPENDIX. 
 
 which are found thrillingly arrayed in the speeches of Lord Ashley,* 
 as well as in Parliamentary reports. A still stronger proof of the 
 excess of poverty is shown in the necessity of creating a system of 
 laws (Poor Laws), for the special purpose of relieving it. 
 
 For conclusive evidence, on the other hand, of the benefits con 
 ferred on the ruling classes, is it requisite to point to the tax of 38 
 millions sterling laid upon articles of consumption, which necessarily 
 weigh upon the people, or to the revenues of the Church, some eight 
 millions sterling,! and chiefly borne by the people. Whereas the 
 land-tax in England, mostly contributed by the Aristocracy, does 
 not much exceed one million sterling. The Income-tax, which pro 
 duces near five millions sterling,! falls indirectly on the working 
 classes, for the rich economise in their expenses the sum which the 
 tax yields. 
 
 Now for the second inquiry. 
 
 The sway of the Aristocratic principle over the Government in 
 England, supported unanimously by the influences indicated, would 
 have no other limit than in the patience of the people. Finding 
 the yoke, at last, insupportable, the masses everywhere would 
 imitate the unhappy Romans, and like them, would withdraw to 
 another Mons Sacer, until, finally, driven to despair, and over 
 powered by suffering, they would give themselves up cheerfully to 
 the first invaders. 
 
 This monopoly of power, however, by a single principle, is des 
 tined in England to another fate. It will fall by the desertion of 
 those very influences which have so long and so skilfully upheld it. 
 Already a branch of the Financial class, the manufacturers, are con 
 tending against it at the head of the Democratic principle, and, as I 
 have stated, it was defeated, in 1845, under Cobden and Bright. A 
 portion of the Literary class, headed by such as Carlyle, and the 
 writers in the Times, are beginning to assail it with vigorous blows. 
 
 It may, then, be considered as inevitable the downfall of the 
 usurpation of the Aristocratic principle in England, and the resur 
 rection of its ancient Mixed Government the one which contains 
 those three elementary principles that contribute to the preservation 
 of Liberty and the maintenance of Order. 
 
 I come, finally, to the consideration of the Constitution of France, 
 that noble nation which has done so much for the destruction of 
 
 " Now Lord Shaftesbnry. 
 
 t The Church has skilfully managed to set Statistics at defiance by concealing the 
 exact amount it annually extracts from the country, but Mr. John MacGregor, M.P. 
 for Glasgow, and the first Statistician of England, recently remarked to me, that it was 
 considerably above the sum 1 have stated. 
 
 J This tax was doubled during the late war, and now produces nearly ten millions
 
 APPENDIX. xiii 
 
 false dogmas, and for the emancipation of mankind. Her sacrifices 
 and her heroism, through long centuries, render her eminently 
 worthy the gratitude of the civilised world. In my next and last 
 letter may a stranger be permitted to speak of a country which, 
 next to his own, he loves and respects the most. 
 
 HENRY WIKOFF, 
 
 New York.
 
 1V APPENDIX 
 
 FBOM " LA PRESSE" OF JANUARY 2, 1850. 
 FRANCE. 
 
 To EMILE DE GIRARDIN 
 
 In my first letter I stated that in every society there existed three 
 political principles the Monarchical, Aristocratic, and Democratic, 
 which, by their skilful combination, could alone form an indestructi 
 ble Government, that would guarantee liberty, whilst it maintained 
 order. I adduced, as an example, the Constitution of the United 
 States the only one in the world where these three principles are 
 found in full play and in perfect harmony. 
 
 In my secon-i letter I followed the vicissitudes these principles 
 underwent through the history of England. I showed how, in the 
 beginning, they existed together, but in a stfte of discord ; how, in 
 1640, the Democratic principle, under Cromwell, vanquished the two 
 other principles ; again, how, in 1688, the Aristocratic principle, 
 usurping in its turn, and supported by the four dominant influences 
 of every society, has succeeded in maintaining up to our day its un 
 just ascendancy. 
 
 Now, in my last letter, to prove that I am not amusing myself 
 with vain theories, but that I am treating of the science of Govern 
 ment, I propose to investigate the history of France, which, better 
 than the history of all the other nations of Europe, furnishes a 
 striking demonstration of this truth viz., that neither of the three 
 principles can permanently govern alone. 
 
 Will you allow me to m>ke a single reflection? I have often 
 heard, in foreign countries, the French reproached with the fickle 
 ness of their character ; but I have always attributed this accusation 
 to ignorance or to calumny. Strange to say, however, I have heard 
 the same thing repeated by the French of themselves. 
 
 I invite them to read over again their own history, and they will 
 find themselves forced to the same conclusion as myself, that, instead 
 of being capricious, they are a people as logical as courageous. This 
 is what I shall undertake to prove. 
 
 The fall of the Roman Empire is the preface to French history. 
 Historians have given a thousand different explanations of this 
 grand event, but there is only one. It was the new religion. Christi-
 
 APPENDIX. XV 
 
 anity, which brought it about ; for when it proclaimed the equality 
 of all men before God, the Roman people began to understand the 
 injustice of their slavery, and repudiated Paganism. At last, instead 
 of continuing to bear the terrible yoke of despotism, they preferred 
 yielding to the Barbarians, far less to be dreaded than their own 
 tyrants. 
 
 The first Governmental principle which reappeared after this 
 moral inundation was the Monarchical. At this epoch of transition 
 and confusion the vital want was Unity, and that was just the 
 essence of that principle, as I have explained. For several cen 
 turies Monarchy sought to govern society, and with the aid of the 
 Religious influence, at that time all-powerful. 
 - It is proper to observe that Christianity, at its advent, sustained 
 the Democratic principle against Paganism, which was allied to the 
 rival principles. After the downfall of Paganism, however, Christi 
 anity went astray by identifying itself with Monarchy, instead of 
 seeking to exercise a beneficent influence over all these Governmental 
 principles alike. 
 
 Finally, in the 10th century, the Monarchical principle was over 
 thrown, and the Aristocracy, with the support of the Democracy, 
 seized upon Power, and began to govern by organising the Feudal 
 System. During this epoch the Military influence was the strongest, 
 but the Religious influence, also, lent its protection to the Aristocratic 
 Government. It was these two influences that originated the Cru 
 sades. After the lapse of several ages it became evident that the 
 Aristocratic principle had done nothing but imitate the Monarchical, 
 that is, govern for its own interests. The Democratic principle, 
 disowned and oppressed, abandoned in its turn the Aristocratic 
 principle, and, under Richelieu, the Monarchy once more recovered 
 power. The Aristocratic principle was now entirely excluded from 
 Government; but the Democratic principle was not admitted. It 
 was thus proved that in lending itself first to the Monarchical, and 
 afterwards to the Aristocratic, principle, that it had gained nothing 
 in either case. It was different in England, as I have shown ; for 
 after the Norman Conquest the English people, before granting their 
 support to one or the other of these rival principles, demanded cer 
 tain concessions, such as Magna Charta and the Habeas Corpus Act. 
 
 Under this second restoration of the Monarchy the other two 
 social influences I have named viz., the Literary and Financial in 
 fluences attained their highest development. They allied them 
 selves with the Democratic principle, which, no longer putting faith 
 in the Monarchical or Aristocratic principles, only thought now of 
 grasping at power for itself. The 18th century beheld the spectacle 
 of an ardent contest between the Monarchical principle, supported 
 by the Religious and Military classes, on one side, and the Democratic 
 principle, defended by the Literary and Financial classes, on the other.
 
 2-Vl APPENDIX. 
 
 The first revolution, in 1789, -witnessed the advent to Power of the 
 Democratic principle, which, first, avenged itself for the centuries of 
 suffering it had undergone, and, next, set to work throwing off all 
 those burdens which had been heaped upon it by the rival principles 
 to their own exclusive benefit. Its mission being thus accomplished, 
 it would have done better to have taken for its model the Constitu 
 tion of the United States in dividing the power with the Monar 
 chical and Aristocratic principles, which are, likewise, imperishable, 
 and possess qualities equally precious. 
 
 By not acting in this manner, whether from ignorance or from 
 mistrust, it lost itself. In fact, the necessity of Unity became so 
 imperative, in consequence, even, of the useful Progress made by the 
 Democratic principle, that the Monarchical principle, under Napo 
 leon, forced itself, for the third time, back into power. It happened 
 then what was sure to follow, for the laws of human nature are 
 there to prove, that when there is no check to its will it is certain to 
 run into abuse. 
 
 The Monarchical principle entered upon the Government without 
 conditions, and naturally governed for its own advantage. The in 
 genious example set by the Aristocratic Government of England 
 was followed in France, and the Monarchy sought the support of 
 the social influences. The Religious, Military, and Financial 
 classes rallied to its maintenance, with a view to stability ; but the 
 Literary class, in great part, refused to accept its recompenses, or to 
 yield to its menaces. During this epoch the same scheme was 
 carried out as in England the Clergy were endowed by the State ; 
 the Army was honored and enriched ; and the Capitalists favored by 
 Protective laws and a National Bank.* 
 
 On the fall of the Monarchy, in 1815, the Aristocratic principle re 
 turned to power, but disguised in a Constitutional form. Aware 
 that force could avail no longer against its rival principles, as in the 
 middle ages, it transplanted to the French soil the Constitution 
 successfully established in England. For the first time a Parlia 
 mentary Government, with Monarchical prerogative limited, and the 
 Democratic principle excluded, was essayed in France. The Mo 
 narchy, however, refused its assent to the new organisation, and, 
 stimulated by the Religious influence, attempted resistance, where-' 
 upon the Aristocratic principle, allying itself with the Democratic, 
 and reinforced by the Literary and Financial classes, overthrew it 
 in 1830. 
 
 A second experiment was made of Parliamentary Government, 
 and this time the Monarchy, mindful of the past, united with 
 the Aristocratic element, and together directed the Government. 
 
 Founded in 1810.
 
 APPENDIX. xvii 
 
 The Democratic principle was, in reality, excluded from power, 
 for the suffrage was limited to 173,000 electors for a population of 
 35 millions.* The two principles, Monarchical and Aristocratic, 
 being so strong, and the Democratic principle so weak, the same 
 results were reproduced after the same laws, and the interests of 
 the greatest number were sacrificed for the benefit of the few who 
 held the power. 
 
 It was unlikely that a people so intelligent and resolute as the 
 French, and who had twice vanquished the rival principles, would 
 long resign itself to its defeat. After manifestations sufficiently 
 significant, the Democratic principle, sustained, in great part, by 
 the Literary class, again revolted in 1848, and again with the same 
 'success. 
 
 Once more absolute master of power it exhibited the most incon 
 testable moderation. A new Constitution was ordained, but instead 
 of seeking to exclude the rival principles from power, the Demo 
 cratic principle merely sought to protect itself against their en 
 croachments, in subjecting them to certain restraints, and by 
 assuring to itself broad and solid guarantees. Universal suffrage 
 was proclaimed, and by this means alone the Democratic principle 
 can always exercise a salutary control over the rival principles. In 
 addition, it applied the same check to the Monarchical principle 
 that exists in the Constitution of the United States by limiting its 
 duration to four years. 
 
 The Democratic principle was carried too far, however, by its 
 natural apprehensions, and it fell into some grave errors. For ex 
 ample, in refusing a veto to the Executive power it rendered its 
 constitutional independence impossible, and thus the necessary 
 balance between the three Powers could not exist. Also, in refusing 
 re-eligibility, it in no wise encouraged the Monarchical principle to 
 deserve well of the country. The French Constitution, in adopting 
 these precautions, has gone beyond the American Constitution, 
 and so long as they exist an exact counterpoise is impossible. 
 Serious faults have, also, been committed as regards the Aristocratic 
 principle. With a view to check its excesses, the Democratic prin 
 ciple has, with too much temerity, shut itself up in the same 
 chamber with its rival, which derives its value always from its 
 superior intelligence. Aristocracy simply means the intellectual 
 force of any country, which makes it, at the same time, valuable 
 and dangerous. Honors and wealth are the natural and just pro 
 duct of its intelligence ; but leaving it the power to monopolise all, 
 
 " To be an Elector it was necessary to pay 200 francs of direct taxes, which is eqniva- 
 ent to an income ot 1,250 irancs.
 
 XV1U APPENDIX. 
 
 the masses are deprived ?i *aeir rights, which are as well founded, 
 and not less sacred. 
 
 How can restrictions sufficiently stringent be applied to the Aris 
 tocratic principle without injuring its vital independence ? This is 
 just the problem the American Constitution has perfectly solved. 
 By giving to it a Chamber apart, and submitting it to the restraints 
 already explained, the Aristocratic principle, whilst it balances the 
 other principles, fulfils its Conservative office. 
 
 It follows, therefore, that in the French Constitution are found th 
 three political principles, which history and logic demonstrate are 
 indispensable to a stable and tranquil Government. But in conse 
 quence of the apprehensions already alluded to, and which are per 
 fectly natural, the balance necessary to the harmonious action of the 
 three elemental principles does not exist. That is all. It is a state 
 of things, at this moment, preferable to any existing elsewhere in 
 Europe. 
 
 In England the Aristocratic principle monopolises the Government, 
 and before the three principles that constitute the basis of its an 
 cient Constitution are restored, that country will have many trials 
 to undergo. 
 
 In nearly all the rest of Europe it is the Monarchical principle 
 which governs. As civilisation advances, and I mean by that the 
 union of the three political principles, Europe will be forced to go 
 through the phases of many struggles and revolutions that the 
 United States have already undergone, and to the end of which 
 France seems to be approaching. 
 
 There is one remark that it is proper to add. The legislation of 
 France, for the last fifty years, has been the exclusive work of the 
 Monarchical and Aristocratic principles, and engrossed by their 
 own interests, for such is human nature, they have neglected the 
 interests of the Democracy. Whenever, therefore, the present Con 
 stitution shall be so improved as to establish the necessary balance 
 between the three Powers, there will still be nothing to apprehend 
 from the ardent activity of the Democratic principle, which, obeying 
 its Progressive impulse, will still have much to do in raising its 
 condition to that of its rivals. 
 
 In closing the sketch I have just drawn of the brilliant future 
 that awaits France, I do not wish to shut my eyes on the dark cloud 
 that throws its shade over the picture. A senseless struggle is at 
 this moment going on between the three principles that the Consti 
 tution recognises. The Aristocratic principle will not yield its just 
 ehare of power to the Democratic principle, whilst the Monarchical 
 principle, hampered as it is by the restraints of the Constitution, is 
 compelled to fluccuate undecided between them. I cannot help in 
 dulging here in a reflection that savours of a reproach to the De-
 
 APPENDIX. xix 
 
 mocracy. If it does not exercise its legitimate influence over the 
 legislation of the country, of which it has reason to complain, whose 
 fault is it ? The Constitution was its own work, and in seeking to 
 surround itself with too many precautions, it has only exposed itself 
 the more to the two hostile principles. 
 
 Still it ought to show itself patient, and the more so, that the 
 period of trial is limited. The Democratic principle well knows its 
 force, and it is hardly to be feared that when the final moment 
 arrives that the Monarchical and Aristocratic principles will exhibit 
 so much injustice and thoughtlessness as to insist on the retention 
 of their privileges, and thus risk plunging this great and noble 
 country once more into all the miseries of 1789. Let what will 
 happen, there is but one solution a Mixed Government. 
 
 After a whole century of catastrophes there would be found at 
 the end but one remedy the system of checks and balances of the 
 Constitution of the United States. 
 
 To recapitulate. 
 
 There are three political principles which represent the three 
 elements of every human society, viz., Monarchy, Aristocracy, and 
 Democracy. 
 
 A Government is only just and durable when these three prin 
 ciples possess an equal share of power and independence, but under 
 such a system of check and balance that their special virtues of 
 Unity, Conservatism, and Progress may exercise their individual in 
 fluence upon the laws which govern society. 
 
 This Government is designated a Mixed Government. 
 
 There exist, also, four great social influences, which must be 
 carefully taken into account the Religious, Military, Literary, and 
 Financial influences, that are represented by four classes, the Priest, 
 the Soldier, the Thinker, and the Capitalist. 
 
 The history of all nations show that these four classes invariably 
 seek, with a view to their own interests, to connect themselves with 
 Government in order to sway it. 
 
 It follows irom these premises, that a Mixed Government, free 
 from all alliance with clerical, military, literary, or financial insti 
 tutions, is the only one which presents the certainty of duration; 
 and tranquillity, because, then, liberty is united with order. 
 
 The Government of the United States approaches the nearest to 
 this perfection ; but still its alliance with any financial influence 
 has yet to be dissolved. Amongst other nations, the Government 
 of France resembles most the American Government ; nevertheless, 
 the three principles which its Constitution recognises have yet to 
 be regulated, and the connection kept up alternately with the 
 classes above-mentioned ought to disappear. It must be admitted, 
 however, that an immense advance towards this consummation has 
 been made within these last sixty years.
 
 XI APPENDIX. 
 
 I have been too impartial, I fear, not to have offended all parties. 
 My sole object has been to speak the truth. This justice, I trust, 
 the French Press will not refuse me, if it is thought useful or timely 
 to discuss the ideas which I have submitted to its appreciation. 
 
 HENRY WIKOFF, 
 
 of New York. 
 
 Since the appearance of these letters in Paris, in 1849, the " dark 
 cloud" I alluded to has burst. The "senseless struggle" between 
 parties that I spoke of, terminated in December, 1851, and as 
 might have been foreseen. I stated that the Aristocratic principle 
 would not yield its just share of power to the Democratic principle, 
 whilst the Monarchical principle, hampered by Constitutional 
 restraints, was forced into a state of inaction. Such a condition of 
 things could only lead to a catastrophe, and the Aristocratic prin 
 ciple has paid the penalty of its third attempt to erect in France 
 the Parliamentary Government of England. 
 
 At the close of '51, the Monarchical principle united with the 
 Democratic, and, supported by the Religious and Military influences, 
 took possession of the State. A Constitution was adopted, which 
 was the necessary consequence of preceding events. The three 
 fundamental principles were admitted, but no effort was made to 
 balance them. The Monarchical principle reserved for itself the 
 largest share of power, but the Democratic principle was guaranteed 
 its independence, under certain well-devised restraints. The Aris 
 tocratic principle, however, was reduced to well-nigh a nullity. 
 
 So long as harmony exists between the Monarchical and Demo 
 cratic principles, this Constitution will endure, and the Democratic 
 principle cannot fail to derive important advantages, not only from, 
 its joint share of power, but from the identity of interests that 
 constitute the basis of its present alliance. 
 
 It is not to be supposed, however, that the Aristocratic principle, 
 which, as I have said, is the intellectual force of the country, will 
 ubmit to its subordinate position longer than it can avoid. 
 
 It has fallen through its own excesses, and its actual degradation 
 is a just punishment, and may be a profitable lesson. Sooner or 
 later it must recover its legitimate influence, but there is little to 
 fear from its acquiring again an undue ascendancy. 
 
 The history of the last sixty-seven years in France, plainly 
 demonstrates that under a Mixed Government only, with a nice 
 adjustment of check and balance, can Liberty and Order be per 
 manently consolidated.
 
 APR 8 1982 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
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 iWikoff, Henry, 1813-1884. 
 
 New Yorker in the Foreign 
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