ir former character. In this condition they have been found by a man
who, with the precedent of history in one hand, and the sabre in the
other, has, unstained with the crimes of Cromwell, possessed himself of
the sovereignty; and, like Augustus, without the propensities which
shaded his early life, preserved the _name_ of a republic, whilst he
well knows that a decisive and irresistible authority can alone reunite
a people so vast and distracted; who, in the pursuit of a fatal phantom,
have been inured to change, and long alienated from subordination. I
would not wish such a government to be perpetual, but if it be
conducted with wisdom and justice, I will not hesitate to declare, that
I think it will ultimately prove as favourable to the happiness, as it
has been propitious to the glory of the french. A government which
breathes a martial spirit under a thin appearance of civil polity,
presents but a barren subject to the consideration of the inquirer. When
the sabre is changed into the sceptre, the science of legislation is
short, simple, and decisive. Its energies are neither entangled in
abstract distinctions, nor much impeded by the accustomed delays of
deliberation.

From the magnitude of the present ruling establishment in France, and
the judicious distribution of its powers, and confidence, the physical
strength can scarcely be said to reside in the _governed_.

A great portion of the population participates in the character of the
government. The bayonet is perpetually flashing before the eye. The
remark may appear a little ludicrous, but in the capital almost every
man who is not _near sighted_ is a soldier, and every soldier of the
republic considers himself as a subordinate minister of state. In short
the whole political fabric is a refined system of knight's service.
Seven centuries are rolled back, and from the gloom of time behold the
crested spirit of the norman hero advance, "with beaver up," and nod his
sable plumes, in grim approval of the novel, gay, and gaudy feodality.

If such an expectation may be entertained, that time will replace the
ancient family on the throne, I am far from believing that it can offer
much consolation to the illustrious wanderer, who as yet, has only
tasted of the name of sovereignty. If the old royalty is ever restored,
it is my opinion, and I offer it with becoming deference, that, from
personal hatred to the present titular monarch, and the dread of
retaliation by a l