ic capacity than Bonaparte had formed;
and, to his great disgust, Merlin of Douai and Francois of Neufchatel
were chosen. The last scenes of the _coup d'etat_ centred around the
transportation of the condemned deputies. One of the early memories of
the future Duc de Broglie recalled the sight of the "_deputes
fructidorises_ travelling in closed carriages, railed up like cages,"
to the seaport whence they were to sail to the lingering agonies of a
tropical prison in French Guiana.

It was a painful spectacle: "the indignation was great, but the
consternation was greater still. Everybody foresaw the renewal of the
Reign of Terror and resignedly prepared for it."

Such were the feelings, even of those who, like Madame de Stael and
her friend Benjamin Constant, had declared before the _coup d'etat_
that it was necessary to the salvation of the Republic. That
accomplished woman was endowed with nearly every attribute of genius
except political foresight and self-restraint. No sooner had the blow
been dealt than she fell to deploring its results, which any
fourth-rate intelligence might have foreseen. "Liberty was the only
power really conquered"--such was her later judgment on Fructidor. Now
that Liberty fled affrighted, the errant enthusiasms of the gifted
authoress clung for a brief space to Bonaparte. Her eulogies on his
exploits, says Lavalette, who listened to her through a dinner in
Talleyrand's rooms, possessed all the mad disorder and exaggeration of
inspiration; and, after the repast was over, the votaress refused to
pass out before an aide-de-camp of Bonaparte! The incident is
characteristic both of Madame de Stael's moods and of the whims of the
populace. Amidst the disenchantments of that time, when the pursuit of
liberty seemed but an idle quest, when royalists were the champions of
parliamentary rule and republicans relied on military force, all eyes
turned wearily away from the civic broils at Paris to the visions of
splendour revealed by the conqueror of Italy. Few persons knew how
largely their new favourite was responsible for the events of
Fructidor; all of them had by heart the names of his victories; and
his popularity flamed to the skies when he recrossed the Alps,
bringing with him a lucrative peace with Austria.

The negotiations with that Power had dragged on slowly through the
whole summer and far into the autumn, mainly owing to the hopes of the
Emperor Francis that the disorder in France would