gislature
had been left inert, the budget being decreed without its consent, and
the Emperor told Metternich at Dresden that he contemplated its
abolition. In a crisis like this latest one, however, its aid was not
to be despised; it was now galvanized, and made to stamp these puerile
measures with the "popular" approval.

There has always been "a mystery in the soul of state." When men
ceased to invest government with a supernatural character, they did
not for all that dispel the mystery. Modern statesmen by the score
have chosen to believe the occult doctrine that the state's promise to
pay is payment, and Napoleon was one of these. He was equally childish
in regard to the knotty social question which confronted him,
apparently believing that his personal volition, as the expression of
political power, was or ought to be equivalent to popular spontaneity.
The mixture of the old and new aristocracies had, in spite of all
efforts, been mechanical rather than chemical, except so far as that
the former was rather the preponderating influence giving color to the
compound. In order to make the blending real, the Emperor proposed a
"spontaneous" rising of those high-born youth who had somehow escaped
the conscription. They were to be formed into four regiments, and
designated "guards of honor." The measure was found to be so utterly
unpopular that it was for the moment abandoned; the young men had no
stomach even for fancy campaigning, and their relatives no mind to
deliver them up as hostages. The guard, moreover, displayed a violent
jealousy.

There remained the ecclesiastical question--that, namely, of canonical
institution. Pius VII had lost much of his obstinacy since his removal
to Fontainebleau, for the Austrian alliance was now the sheet-anchor
of France; the French ecclesiastics had threatened to depose the Pope;
but the Roman Catholics of Bavaria, Italy, and Austria were loyal, and
they were important factors in Napoleon's problem. After an exchange
of New Year's compliments, negotiations between the temporal and the
spiritual powers were reopened. At first the Emperor was exacting, and
the Pope unyielding. Finally, on January eighteenth, Napoleon appeared
in person at Fontainebleau, accompanied by Maria Louisa, and
unannounced they entered the prisoner's apartment. The Pope started
up in pleased surprise. "My father," cried his visitor. "My son," came
the response. The Emperor caught the old man to his arms and