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sciousness of power and of past success. Altogether, "Haworth's" is a stronger and more matured work than "That Lass o' Lowrie's," and it will certainly not tend to abate the enthusiasm of Mrs. Burnett's admirers. The dialect which was so obtrusive in the former story is here used more sparingly, and the reader will probably not regret it; but it seems also to have lost some of its raciness, though this may come from the fact that it is more familiar to
Of all the innumerable speeches and orations that have been delivered in the English language, scarcely any others except those of Edmund Burke and Daniel Webster have taken a high and apparently permanent place in the literatures of their respective countries. Those of Burke have so definitively taken their place that, as Mr. Whipple says, for an educated man to confess ignorance of them "would be a serious bar to his claim to be considered an
English scholar." Those of Webster are not so universally acknowledged as literature, but more than any other speeches ever made in America they have exhibited a capacity for living beyond the occasion which called them forth, and are probably as much read and referred to to-day as at any time since they were delivered. This being so, the publishers have done well by Mr. Webster and the public in issuing in a single convenient and inexpensive volume a selection of the most famous and characteristic speeches, orations, and state papers, contained in the six-volume edition of Webster's works, as edited by Mr. Everett.* The selection includes fortynine titles, and comprises all the great orations by which Webster laid the first foundations of his fame, the best known of the speeches which he delivered in the Senate of the United States, carefully chosen specimens of his legal arguments and state papers, and quite a number of the most famous occasional addresses which he delivered at various periods of his life. Prefixed to the collection is a somewhat extensive essay by Mr. Edwin P. Whipple on "Daniel Webster as a Master of English Style," which is rather over-refined and complicated in its analysis, but which is full of suggestion for the student of literature in general, as well as for the student of Webster's special contributions to it. Taken as a whole, the volume is a fair presentation of the character, variety, and quality, of Webster's work, and, though of course it is not an adequate substitute for the complete edition of his writings, it ought to reach a far wider audience.
. . It is necessary to keep resolutely in mind all De Amicis's fine phrases in order to repress a feeling of unspeakable disgust in reading M. Zola's "Rougon-Macquart Family" and "The Conquest
The Great Speeches and Orations of Daniel Webster. With an Essay on Daniel Webster as a Master of English Style. By Edwin P. Whipple. Boston: Little, Brown & Co.
The Rougon-Macquart Family. By Emile Zola. Translated by John Stirling. Philadelphia: T. B. Peterson & Brothers. 16m0.
of Plassans."* These were the first experiments in that series which the author has since worked out with such deadly persistency, and, with all the unflinching "realism" of "L'Assommoir," possess very little of its piercing insight and vivid intensity of characterization. There is a sense in which "L'Assommoir" might truly be called a temperance story, since debauchery is certainly rendered revolting enough in it; but it is idle to pretend that there is any moral motive or lesson of any kind in these earlier tales. If they have any meaning at all, except an instinctive affinity for filth, they mean that the author has accepted as a genuine "working hypothesis" the old theological doctrine of the total depravity of human nature, and is determined to vindicate it by appropriate pictures of life. Complaint is often made of the severe judgments passed by foreigners upon French social life; but if M. Zola's pictures of it are even approximately true, then the restraints of decency would prevent any one except a Frenchman who had been perverted by it from putting his opinion of it into words.
.. Many and various are the biographies of Abraham Lincoln that have been written, but we know of none which, as a narrative, is more vigorous, animated, and pleasing, than that of Mr. Charles G. Leland. Indeed, the strictly narrative portion is so good that one is tempted to regard it as a misfortune that the author's subject led him over the still-smoking embers of the civil war. In this portion of his work he forgets his proper function as a biographer, and assumes that of historian, and seldom has a writer gratuitously undertaken a task for the right performance of which he shows himself to be so utterly incompetent. Mr. Leland is one of those irreconcilables in whose bosoms the fiercest passions of the civil war still rage as tumultuously as when the conflict was at its height; and his book, gathering up anew the worst garbage of the worst period of hate and exasperation, is of the kind which, excusable and intelligible enough fifteen years ago, must be regarded now by all sane and right-minded people with a sort of horror. Happily, the history thus concocted by Mr. Leland is too grotesque to mislead any one in his own country, but, as his book was written chiefly for the English market, it may be well on this account to interpose a word of caution. Englishmen, who might be tempted to draw the inference from Mr. Leland's book that we are a people of whom about one half are savages, while a considerable proportion of the other half are traitors, are invited to consider the fact that Mr. Leland is known to us only as the rather clever manufacturer of dialect ballads, and that no one except himself would ever have imagined that he was entitled to construct (and invent) history for us, or to "deal damnation round the land" on all who happen to differ with him in opinion.
*The Conquest of Plassans. By Emile Zola. Translated by John Stirling. Philadelphia: T. B. Peterson & Brothers. 16m0, pp. 378.
+ Abraham Lincoln and the Abolition of Slavery in the United States. By Charles Godfrey Leland. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. 16m0, pp. 246.
ONAPARTE liked to recall his campaign in Egypt, and it was, indeed, on this subject that he became most easily animated. He had brought with him on this journey Monsieur Monge, the savant whom he had made senator, and whom he especially liked, merely on the ground that he had been among members of the Institute who had accompanied him to Egypt. They often talked together of that expeditionof "that land of poetry," as he called it-which had enchanted Cæsar and Pompey. He dwelt with enthusiasm on the time when he appeared before the surprised Orientals as a new prophet. The influence he exercised over their imaginations he dwelt upon most especially.
"In France," he said, "all must be demonstrated point by point, but in Egypt we did not need our mathematics!"
It was at Brussels that I began to know Monsieur de Talleyrand. His haughty face and satirical smile had greatly awed me. The indo lence of a life at court, which made some days seem at least one hundred hours in length-when we spent hours waiting until it pleased our master to show himself-threw us much together in the same salon. It was in one of these hours of ennui that I heard Monsieur de Talleyrand complain that his family had in no respect fulfilled the hopes he had formed for them. His brother Archambault de Périgord was in exile, accused of having spoken in the mocking language which was characteristic of the race of persons high in rank, and had, above all, been guilty of the bad taste of refusing to give his daughter to Eugène Beauharnais; he preferred to see her the wife of the Count Just de Noailles. Monsieur de Talleyrand, who was quite as desirous of this marriage as was Madame Bonaparte, spoke of his brother's conduct with great bitterness, and I at once understood he VOL. VII.-31
himself would have reaped some advantage from this union.
One of the first things which struck me when I talked with Monsieur de Talleyrand was that he was utterly devoid of enthusiasm in regard to what was going on about him. He indulged in none of the illusions which the rest of the court felt in greater or less degree.
The absolute subjection of soldiers easily assumes the air of devotion, of which quality there was, to be sure, a great deal. The Ministry affected or felt a profound admiration. Monsieur Maret literally worshiped the First Consul; Berthier regarded him with absolute confidence. Monsieur de Rémusat did his best to like the life to which he submitted, and to esteem the man who imposed it upon him. As to myself, I allowed no opportunity to escape by which I could be touched and moved.
The calmness and indifference of Monsieur de Talleyrand disconcerted me.
"Good Heavens!" I once ventured to say to him; "how can you endure to live without feeling any emotion or receiving any impression from what goes on about you?"
"Ah! what a very woman you are!" he said, "and how very young!"
And then he began to laugh at me as he laughed at everything. His jests hurt me, and yet they made me smile. I most reluctantly allowed myself to be amused by his clever witticisms, while at the same time my vanity was gratified in being able to understand him, while at the same time I revolted at the aridness of his heart. It was a long time before I really understood, and was sufficiently at ease with him to understand, the singular mixture which composed his character.
The republican year terminated, as usual, in
the middle of September, and the anniversary of the republic was celebrated by great fêtes and with royal pomp in the Palace of the Tuileries. News came at the same time that the Hanoverians, conquered by General Mortier, had celebrated the Consul's birthday. It was thus by degrees that he-first as head of all, and then all alone-accustomed Europe to see France only in his person, presenting himself in the place of all else.
As Bonaparte fully realized the resistance he would encounter among the older part of the community, he applied himself at once and most adroitly to winning over the youth of France, to whom he opened doors to distinction. He attached auditors to the different ministers, and opened a path to all ambitions, either in civil or military life. He often said that he preferred to govern a new people, and he could only find them among the young.
Bonaparte's brothers were all busy-Joseph at the camp at Boulogne; Louis in the Council of State; Jerome, the youngest, in America, where he had been sent, and where he was well received by the Anglo-Americans. His sisters, who began to enjoy large fortunes, decorated and improved the houses given them by the First Consul, and tried to eclipse each other by the luxury of their appointments. Eugène Beauharnais was absorbed in his military duties, while his sister lived quietly—indeed, I may say, almost sadly. Madame le Duc had fascinated the Prince Borghese (who had recently arrived in France from Rome), and was quite disposed to return his affection. The Prince asked her hand from Bonaparte, who for some reason unknown to me at first refused it.
Perhaps his vanity would not allow him to accept with too much eagerness such a proposal, and that he wished a second application. But, as the liaison of these two persons became public, he finally decided to legitimatize it by the marriage which took place at Mortefontaine during the sojourn of the Consul at Boulogne.
He left to visit the camp and the flotilla on the 3d of November, 1803. As this journey was essentially military, he was accompanied only by the generals of his Guard, by his aides-de-camp, and by Monsieur de Rémusat. On arriving at Pont de Briques, a small village about a league from Boulogne, where Bonaparte had fixed his headquarters, my husband was taken dangerously ill. As soon as I knew it I hastened to join him, and reached Pont de Briques in the middle of the night. Absorbed in my anxiety, and thinking only of the state in which I should find my dear husband, I had given no thought to anything else; but, when I left the carriage, I was a little
disturbed to find myself alone in the middle of the camp, nor was I quite sure of what the Consul would think of my coming. I was reassured, however, by finding the servants all up, and being told by them that I was expected, and that a room had been ready for me for two days. I went to it at once, deeming it wiser not to appear before my husband until morning, lest I should excite him. I found him very much prostrated, but his joy was so evident on seeing me that I congratulated myself on having started at once without awaiting permission.
When the Consul had breakfasted he sent for me. I was much agitated, which he saw as soon as I entered the room. He kissed my hand, and tranquillized me at once by his first words:
"I expected you, and your presence will cure your husband."
I burst into tears; he seemed quite moved, and took some pains to calm me. Then he told me that I was to dine and breakfast with him, saying, with a laugh
"I must watch over a woman of your age, thrown among all these officers!"
Then he asked me how I had left his wife. Only a few days before his departure new disputes had arisen in connection with Mademoiselle Georges.
"She disturbs herself," he said, "much more than is necessary. Josephine is in constant terror lest I should become seriously in love with some one. She does not realize that Love and I were not made for each other. After all, what is love? A passion which sets all the world on one side, and on the other only the beloved object. Most assuredly my nature is not such as would submit to that sort of thing! Why, then, should she care for these passing distractions into which my affections never enter? See here!" he continued, more seriously, and with a steadfast look at me, "this is what her friends must say to her: they must persuade her to be more reasonable, and they must not imagine that they are acquiring an influence over me by augmenting her uneasiness."
In these last words there was a dash of severity and distrust which I by no means deserved. And this I am quite sure he knew; but he never lost an occasion of acting upon his favorite theory, which was to keep every one on the qui vive that is to say, in a constant state of worry.
He remained at Pont de Briques fully ten days after my arrival there. My husband's illness was painful and tedious, but the physicians felt no apprehensions. Except the fifteen minutes which I passed at the Consul's breakfasttable, my mornings were all spent in the room of my invalid. Bonaparte went to the camp every day, reviewed his troops, visited the flotilla, and
looked at some slight skirmishes, which were of constant occurrence between ourselves and the English, who hovered just outside the harbor with the intention of annoying the workmen.
At six o'clock Bonaparte returned, and then I was sent for. Sometimes the officers of his household dined with him, or the Minister of the Navy, or the Chief Engineer, who had accompanied him. On other days we were alone, and then he talked freely of a multitude of things. He liked to speak of himself. He said he had always been of a melancholy disposition. My memory has faithfully preserved the recollection of all he said to me on these occasions.
"I was brought up," he said to me, “at a military school, where I evinced a taste only for exact sciences. Everybody said of me, 'There is a boy who is good for nothing but geometry.' I lived apart from my comrades. I had selected a quiet retreat in the school-inclosure where I dreamed at my ease, for I delighted in reverie. When my companions wished to intrude upon me, and take possession of my little corner, I fought for it with all my strength, as I early felt, that my will was to overrule others, and that what I wanted ought to belong to me. I was not liked at school; it needs time to win affection; and, even when I had nothing to do, I had a vague sort of feeling that I had no time to lose.
When I went into service I found garrisonlife excessively wearisome; I fell into a way of reading novels, and became quite absorbed in them. I even tried to write several. This occupation gave full scope to my imagination. I used also much of the positive knowledge I had acquired, and I often amused myself by trying to bring my reveries within the bounds of reason. I lived in an ideal world, and sought to discover in what respects it differed from that in which I lived. I have always loved analysis, and, if I were ever seriously in love, I should dissect my passion bit by bit. 'Why?' and 'How?' are questions so useful that one can never ask them too often. I did not study history so much as I conquered it-that is to say, I read it, and kept in my mind all which could give me material for thought, and threw aside all the rest.
"I did not understand the Revolution, and yet it suited me. The equality which was to elevate me I found seductive. On the 20th of June I saw the populace march to the Tuileries. I never liked these movements of the populace. I was disgusted with the miserable appearance of these creatures, and was even imprudent enough to say to the officers who were at their head that 'the advantages of the Revolution would not fall to their share.' But when I was told that Louis XVI. had put the red cap on his head, I
felt that he had ceased to reign, for in politics that which is once debased is never raised again.
"On the 10th of August I felt that, had I been summoned, I would have defended the King, and I rebelled against those who used the people to found the republic. And then I saw fellows in blouses attack men in uniforms; this shocked me.
"Later I learned the métier of war; I went to Toulon; my name began to be known. On my return I led an unoccupied life. Some secret instinct warned me that it was best to begin by wasting my time.
"One evening I was at the theatre; it was the 12th Vendémiaire. I heard them say that the next day they expected du train; you know that this was the habitual expression of the Parisians, who had become accustomed to looking on with indifference to the changes in the government so long as their affairs, their pleasures, and even their dinners, were not interfered with. After the 'Reign of Terror' they were grateful even for permission to live. It was said that the Assembly was a permanent institution. I went there, and saw only trouble and doubt. Suddenly a voice was heard among the crowd: 'If any one here knows the address of General Bonaparte,' it said, 'let him be informed that he is expected with all possible speed in the committee-room of the Assembly.'
"I have always been impressed by the apparent chance that brings about certain events. These words decided me. I went to the committee-room.
"I there found several of the deputies in a state of terror, among others Cambacérès. They expected to be attacked the next day, and did not know what course to adopt. My advice was asked; I answered by asking for cannons. proposition frightened them, and the whole night was spent in this state of indecision. In the morning came intelligence that was very bad. They bade me decide, and then raised the question whether we had the right to repel force by force.
"Will you wait,' I asked, 'until the people give you permission to fire upon them? I am already compromised by your naming me publicly. It is only just to me that I should be allowed to take some active measures.' Whereupon I left these lawyers, who were talking themselves to death, and ordered out the troops, leveled two cannons at Saint-Roch, the effect of which was something terrible; the bourgeoisie and the conspiracy were swept away together in one instant. But I had shed Parisian blood! It was a sacrilege the result of which must be cooled down. More and more did I feel that I was called to something. I asked for the command of the
Army of Italy, where all was to be done. All is France, they never take any interest in things. was lacking there-men and ammunition.
"Youth should be patient, because the future lies before it. I left for Italy with men who were full of enthusiasm, but were miserable as soldiers. In the center of the troops were wagons carefully guarded, which were empty, but I said they contained gold and silver. I ordered shoes to be distributed to the recruits. No one wished to wear them. I told my men that fortune and glory were waiting for us on the other side of the Alps. I kept my word, and from that time the army has been ready to follow me to the end of the world.
"My campaign was a glorious one; I became a personage in Europe. I sustained the revolutionary system with one hand, with the other I managed the émigrés in secret, allowing them to retain some vestiges of hope. It is very easy to deceive these people because they start always not from what is, but from what they wish it to be. I received magnificent offers in case I would like to follow the example of General Monk. "The Pretendant himself wrote to me in his hesitating and florid style. I conquered the Pope by avoiding going to Rome, when I might have set fire to his capital. At last I was important enough to be feared, but the Directory, which I kept in a constant anxiety, could not bring any accusation against me. I was reproached for having encouraged the 18th Fructidor, which was much the same thing as if they had reproached me for having supported the Revolution. It was necessary to profit by this Revolution, by the blood which had run at that time. Did they wish to abandon themselves unconditionally into the hands of the Bourbon princes, who would have thrown in our faces all the misfortunes which had followed their departure, and imposed silence upon us by the very need we felt for their return? Should we change our victorious banner for their white one which was not afraid of being confounded with the standards of the enemy? And I, too-was I to be content with a few millions and some duchy ? 'It was not as difficult a part to play as that of General Monk's; it would have given me less trouble by far than the Egyptian campaign, or even than the 18th Brumaire; but it would have been an experiment with princes who had never seen a battle-field. To what did the return of Charles II. lead the English if not to the dethronement of James?
The customs of a monarchy have accustomed them to personifying everything. It is an unwise thing to do for people who really care for liberty, but they never wish anything seriously, unless it be equality, and yet they would all renounce even that if each could be persuaded that he could be first.
To be equal as long as there are people above them, is what they mean by their cry of 'Egalité !'—then they all have a hope of rising. The great difficulty for the leaders was that no one troubled himself about them, and that people troubled themselves too much about me. I do not know what first put into my head the happy idea of going to Egypt. When I embarked I was by no means sure that I was not bidding an eternal farewell to France; but I was certain that she would recall me.
"The seductions of an Oriental conquest attracted the attention of Europe to me more than I had supposed possible. My imagination and my practical experience this time worked together. I think, however, that my imagination died at Saint-Jean-d'Acre. At all events, I shall never let her influence me again.
"In Egypt I was free from the shackles of irksome civilization; I dreamed of all sorts of things, and I saw a way of executing all that I dreamed of. I created a religion, and I saw myself on the point of penetrating Asia, seated on an elephant, with a turban upon my head, and in my hand a new Koran, which I had composed according to my own fancy. I should have gathered together for my enterprise the experiences of two worlds. I should have attacked British power in India, and by that conquest renewed my relations with Europe. The time I passed in Egypt was the happiest of my life, for it was the most ideal. But Fate decided otherwise. I received letters from France, and saw that I had not a moment to lose. I returned to real life and to Paris-to Paris, where the deepest interests of the country are discussed, in the entr'acte of an opera.
"The Directory trembled at my return. I was extremely cautious. I saw the Abbé Sieyès and promised him the execution of his verbose constitution; I received the Jacobin chiefs-the agents of the Bourbons. I refused advice to no one, but I gave it only in the interest and furtherance of my plans. I kept myself out of the way of the people, because I knew when the time came the curiosity to see me would bring them about me in crowds.
"Everybody tumbled into my trap, and, when I became the head of the Government, each party in France looked forward with hope to my success."