n all our dreadful and sanguinary
revolutionary epochas. The accomplice of La Fayette in 1789, of Brissot
in 1791, of Marat in 1792, of Robespierre in 1793, of Tallien in 1794, of
Barras in 1795, of Rewbel in 1797, and of Bonaparte in 1799, he has
hitherto planned, served, betrayed, or deserted all factions. He is one
of the few of our grand criminals, who, after enticing and sacrificing
his associates, has been fortunate enough to survive them. Bonaparte has
heaped upon him presents, places, and pensions; national property,
senatories, knighthoods, and palaces; but he is, nevertheless, not
supposed one of our Emperor's most dutiful subjects, because many of the
late changes have differed from his metaphysical schemes of innovation,
of regeneration, and of overthrow. He has too high an opinion of his own
deserts not to consider it beneath his philosophical dignity to be a
contented subject of a fellow-subject, elevated into supremacy by his
labours and dangers. His modesty has, for these sixteen years past,
ascribed to his talents all the glory and prosperity of France, and all
her misery and misfortunes to the disregard of his counsels, and to the
neglect of his advice. Bonaparte knows it; and that he is one of those
crafty, sly, and dark conspirators, more dangerous than the bold
assassin, who, by sophistry, art, and perseverance insinuate into the
minds of the unwary and daring the ideas of their plots, in such an
insidious manner that they take them and foster them as the production of
their own genius; he is, therefore, watched by our Imperial spies, and
never consulted but when any great blow is intended to be struck, or some
enormous atrocities perpetrated. A month before the seizure of the Duc
d'Enghien, and the murder of Pichegru, he was every day shut up for some
hours with Napoleon Bonaparte at St. Cloud, or in the Tuileries; where he
has hardly been seen since, except after our Emperor's return from his
coronation as a King of Italy.

Sieyes never was a republican, and it was cowardice alone that made him
vote for the death of his King and benefactor; although he is very fond
of his own metaphysical notions, he always has preferred the preservation
of his life to the profession or adherence to his systems. He will not
think the Revolution complete, or the constitution of his country a good
one, until some Napoleon, or some Louis, writes himself an Emperor or
King of France, by the grace of Sieyes. He