who tried incessantly to poison the fond recollection of their former
triumphs, and to deprive them of the only consolation which remained
to them in the hour of affliction.

Whatever discontent might prevail amongst the troops, yet the greater
part of the staff and regimental officers had transferred themselves
to the Bourbons with cordial sincerity. Perhaps a few, who were less
confident than the rest, still appeared distrustful and lukewarm; but
they might have been easily won over, either by those sugared and
alluring phrases which sound so sweetly when pronounced by royalty, or
even by merely leaving them quiet until their resentment could cool of
itself.

When Henry IV. recovered his throne, the bigoted partisans of the
league, whom he had pardoned, continued still to threaten and revile
him. It was suggested that he should punish them; but Henry said,
"No,--we must wait, they are yet vexed." Those who were constantly
invoking the memory of good king Henry, never sought to imitate his
conduct. Instead of allowing time to our generals to get over their
vexation, they embittered their temper by daily insults. Our officers
were treated like ruffian bandits; they were branded as rebels, who
were too happy if they obtained a pardon. Praise and favour fell only
to the share of the army of Conde, the Vendeans, and the Chouans. The
triumphal arches destined to eternize the exploits of our armies were
menaced with sacrilegious ruin; and it was solemnly proposed to erect
a monument to the memory of the Vendeans and the emigrants who fell at
Quiberon.

Certainly our deluded brethren deserved to be regretted and mourned.
Yet they had turned their weapons against the sacred bosom of their
country. They were either the auxiliaries or the hirelings of our
implacable enemies the English, and if honours were paid to them as
illustrious victims, it was equivalent to a declaration that their
conquerors were their murderers.

Our warriors had been graced with titles of nobility, bought with the
blood which they had shed in the defence of the country. Their honours
were treated with insolent scorn, and the ghost of Georges Cadoudal, a
murderer in effect, and a traitor in intent, was ennobled by the
gracious patent which was bestowed upon his father.

Georges in attempting the life of Napoleon had committed an act
against all law, whether human or divine. If such a crime was decked
out as a virtue, if signal rewards were allotte