he whole of
France. Louis Philippe and his Government had accurately gauged what
would, more than anything, for the time being, subdue the rumbling
indications of discord and revolt. The King had by this popular act
caught the imagination of the people. He had made his seat on the
throne secure for a time, and his name was immortal. The great mass of
the people and his Government were behind him, and he made use of this
to his own advantage. Napoleon's dying wish is to be consummated. "The
blind hatred of kings" is relaxed; they are no longer afraid of his
mortal remains; they see, and see correctly, that if they continue to
"pursue his blood" he will be "avenged, nay, but, perchance, cruelly
avenged." The old and the new generation of Frenchmen clamour that as
much as may be of the stigma that rests upon them shall be removed,
threatening reprisals if it be not quickly done. The British
Government diplomatically, and with almost comic celerity, gravely
drop "the General Bonaparte" and style their dead captive "the Emperor
Napoleon."

Louis Philippe, overwhelmed with the greatness of the dead monarch,
bursts forth in eloquent praise of this so-called "usurper" of other
days. He was not only an Emperor and a King, but the _legitimate
sovereign_ of his country. No ordinary sepulture is to be his--it is
to be an august sepulture, a silent sacred spot which those who
respect glory, genius, and greatness may visit in "reverential
tranquillity." Henceforth, by Royal Proclamation, history is to know
him as an Emperor and a King. He is to have a tomb as durable as his
memory, and his tomb and fame are to belong to his country for
evermore. The legitimate heir of Napoleon's glory is the author of one
of the finest panegyrics that has ever been written; a political move,
if you will, but none the less the document is glowing with the
artistic phrasing that appeals to the perceptions of an emotional
race.

But the real sincerity was obviously not so much in the author of the
document as in the great masses, who were intoxicated with the desire
to have the remains of their great hero brought home to the people he
had loved so well. It may easily be imagined how superfluously the
French King and his Government patted each other on the back in
self-adoration for the act of funereal restoration which they took
credit for having instituted. If they took too much credit it was only
natural. But not an item of what is their due should