The Express.
London, England, 1851-03-08 00:00:00

remark it well, it was in the full spirit of the constitution
that I fell. My ministry, whose fall was demanded, had a
majority, and 1111 P that had sufficed to overthrow the throne
in 1890. • •History, which toe, to as-imilate, will say 'At
an interval of twenty years two kincs hove fallen, ono having
a majority of forty against hint, the other the same number
for him.' lf, yiefilitm to the clamours of the opposition, I
had voluntarily broken up that ministry, I was no longer
truly practising eonstitutional principles of government.
France no longer wished for my ministers, but desired
their adversaries; but this argument has been, in all times
and countries, the arm of the opposition. When that
attacks a ministry, it serves itself• always of the same
formula—the country no longer wishes for you, begone !
That it was which the most formidable of oppositions said
to Pitt, when at the age of 24, he took the reins of govern-
meat. l'itt did not allow himself to he convinced. After
undergoing fourteen defeats in three months (my ministry
bad met with only one), he was desirous of knowing if
England thought really as did the opposition, and he
appealed to the electors. What did they answer? That
they were with Pitt and against the opposition. Strong
in this answer, Pitt retained other, and for twenty
years! My government was in a far more favoura-
hie situation than Pitt. The Chamber supported it,
and the King —a constitutional King—be gave them
his frank and loyal support. k'urther,—l have promised
to speak the truth and I will. I believed in my soul and
conscience that the policy followed by my ministry was good
and true. Is that which has plink's! since February 1848,
adequate to show that I hare been in error? I put the
question, but leave others to answer it. Mark well, that I
here du not pass judgment upon any one. I mean not to
criticise any person's conduct, nor dispute any person's err-
vic.st. This tdu not fail to acknowledge, what was areom-
plished for the preservation ot• society by the energy of M.
de Cavaiguac. I render justice to the intentions ot• the
l'res.ident of the Republic. lie has defended, probably to
the best of his mewls, the cause of nester. But, either lum
strangely misled, or the policy followed since the month of
June 1848, is coining, as much us it can, to that practised
by my government, in accordance with the majority of
the chambers. That which 1, a liberal of the old
school, was the progressive development of—the
great principles of 1789, and the repression of the revolu-
tionary spirit. At the present day, ea then, what is the go-
vernment doing ? It also proclaims itself the defender of
liberal doctrines at the same time that it declares war to
revolutionary passions. A lawful war ! Fur it is the safe-
guard ot• thu repose of the world ; and it is a war which has
besides been carried on with vigour."

Here the King recollected tivit in the close of his reign
he had said that from the day when the opposition should
obtain the direction of affairs he should withdraw, that is,
be would abdicate.

" One of my most devoted friends," mid he, " heard
these words, and said to me, ' Sire, a constitutional king
mores not, he submits to the law of the majority and re-
mains.' ' No,' 1 answered, •he does not remain if his
conscience tells hint that, under his name and with his con-
sent, injury is about to be inflicted upon the country, and
in this case, rather than act against his comicience, be does
withdraw." _ _ _

•' Alt, sire," criol I sorrowfully, " your Majesty has been
consi.tent. When the King believed that government wan
pas,itm into the Lauds of the opposition, the King did with-
draw."

At hearing Ins say "The king did 1k ithdraw !" Louis
Philippe acute a movement of imputience. lit raised his
grey head briskly, knitted his thick eyebrows, and fixing
his eyes upon none. as it he wished to read into my deepest
thoughts, said in a disturbed voice :
" Keep silence upon no single point! You do not ap-
prove what is called my readiness to abdicate. I have
already treated of this subject with you, and I thought I
had convinced you, but 1 see that it is not at all the case. I
will treat of it again. The question is well descry ing of being
thoroughly examined. Speak out your thoughta thou
clearly and plainly."
It belongs not to me, sire, to have an opinion upon a fact
which has been accomplished in the midst of circumstances
upon which I am insufficiently infuriated. Ilut I bt•lia•ve I
can affirm to your Majesty that since the events of June
11548, since the return of the Emperor of Austria to his
capital, there his been almo-t a general conviction in
France that every government whatever, monarchy or re-
public, which struggles against insurrection, not only with
vigour hut with continuance—above all with perseverance—
triumphs always over it at last.
" Does it even," said the King, striking the table before
which we were spiel, "when this government feels itself
abandoned, by that great force without which nothing is pos-
sible ? Even when all around it is sinking? When tho
councillors of power have lost the power of utterance?
When the means of repression are completely wanting?
I also have had my days of June (less terrible titan those of
the Republic, and I thank heaven for it, but cruel and
lamentable enough, for French blood was shed there.)
Well, at that epoch, 1 triumphed over my horror for civil
war, anal defended myself. Know you why? Became,
then I was supported by opinion. The adversaries of my
policy did nut feel that as 1 did, fur Lattitte, Arago, and.
Wiliam Barrett said to me, in the conversation they held
with me at the time of the insurrection, Your popularity is
undermined.' No, it was not so. It was never more
strikingly apparent. Recollect MY rids in Paris, on the
morning of the Gth June 18.32. With what ardour, what
enthusiasm the acclamations resounded as I palmed !
Nothing stopped me. I was full of confidence,
and moved forward. All went well, fur I had
on that day the approbation of the insurgents. Yes,
even the very men anneal with muskets approved my con-
duct. It was at the Place du Chatelet. At each corner of
a street there were barricades. I resolved to visit them,
and to make the circuit of the square alone. As a discharge
of musketry had just taken place, it was attempted to op-
pose what was called my imprudence ; but I declared that
I wished to be alone. I urged my horse forward, anal,
followed by a small number of friends, whose fidelity diso-
beyed me, I traversed the square at a walk. The insurgents
approached me, but not one fired. Opinion was not yet
arrived at that. Then there was no firing upon the King.
Things have changed since then. On that occasion it was
even better than not firing. The insurgents raked their
pieces, and, chipping their hands, cried ' Bravo ! the
King !' What influence hindered those /toils from firing
who cried ' Bravo, the King ?' It was opinion. In June,
1832, opinion was with mr ; in February, 1818, It was Bono
longer. ' What matter,' say they now, 'it was right for
you to have listeued to those who advi ad you to defend
yourself.' Ilut no one gave sue that advice. One voice
was raised to tell me that I should defend myself, and that
after victory, but only after victory, conditions should be
made, if there should be occasion to make them. Twenty
other voices, some of which were very dear to me and knew
the way to my ear and to my heart, cried out that defence
in Parts or out of Paris was an impossibility anal a folly.
They added that civil war, which is always the greatest of
misfortunes, becomes a crimp when it is not inevitable, anal
becomes an impiety when victory is uncertain. Such were
the discounts which resounded about me; such were the
counsels which on all sides reached the King, who had no
longer official persons to counsel him. Fur ffirget not that
I hail ministers no longer. It was said to me in every tone
and under every form —begone! What does it matter ? is
still objected by my friends; you ought not to have listened
to those who gave you such had advice, and in spite of them,
in spite of everything, you ought to have defended yourself.
Deiced myself? With what? With the army ? Oh! I know
that it would have dune itsduty bravely ; and that, in spite of
the uncertain tonduct of some chiefs, whose names 1 havo
forgotten, my excellent soldiers would have marched as one
man. But the army alone was ready, and that was not
enough for me. The national guard, that force upon which
I was always so happy to rest—the national guard of Parka,
my natal city—that city which has been the godmother of
my grandson (and re I wished st)—that city which, first of
all, said to me in 1830, ' Take the crown, and save us from
the republic!'—the national guard of Paris, to which I
have always been so kindly disposed, either kept itself back
or pronounced against me. And should I have defended
myself? I could nut.
The King ceased speaking. I still listened. I tried to
recollect, to recal to my memory, bow things had passed. I
recollected that immense demoralisation which, upon the
21th of February, extended itself over the entire city—that
prostration of spirits—that inertness of a whole population,
which, without seeing ur understanding, beheld order de-
part and disorder instal itself in the palace of kings, and I
said to myself, " Is it possible that the King can be right!
Is it true that ell those who reproach him with abdicating
signed theirs before he signed his!"
Absorbed in my reflections, I remained silent, when the
King, touching me upon the shoulder, said :
" Are you of my opinion now ? "
" Almost, sire."
" Almost ? You shall soon be altogether. Let us sup-
pow., for an instant, that I had not abdicated. Marshal
llugeaud remains at the head of the army. lie engages in
the conflict. The people oppose him. Blood es shed.
Finally, after a mistance, more or less prolonged, and more
or less energetic, the insurrection triumphs. The army is
decimated—the King dies in the midst of his generals and
children. The Queen and royal family are exiled, arc fallen
into the hands of the conquerors. What their lot would
have been I seek not to know. But what Franco would
say of the conduct of the King, I could divine it, and I
will tell you. • Ah! ' it would cry, 'it is the obstinacy of
that ambitious old man which has lost the monarchy. N't hat
was asked of him but to renounce that power which the coun-
try dial not wish to leave in his hands, and he refused. He
was asked to come down from the throne and to make his
grandson mount there in his place, and he refused. Ile was
asked to remove himself out of the way, safe and sound,
and by his retreat to give fresh strength to the monarchy
which was ready to fall—and be refused! He was asked
to prevent the effusion of French blood—and he refused!
I have done well in abdicating ; anal if things were to be done
I over again, I would do as I have done. In fact, what can bo
NM of me now That I have abandoned power (of which
I was said to be so greedy), from the day when it was shown
to me, that I could no longer exercise it usefully to my
country, nor honourably to myself. This reproach may bo
said to me, for I have deserved it. Will it be said of me
that I shrunk from civil war ? That, too, may be said, for
I confess it. But if they would wish to be just, they who
thus speak must add, that I have been an honest man—that
in the course of ray very long life I have deceived nobody—that
o wu
the
put have been the friend of peace and liberty,
ted by these titles that
emrionfuttcheolaf
niwy,
raepigalriotltani.drre:tnsectitutionat rigorous
" I abdicate this crown, which I held by the will of the
I
nation, and which I accepted only to bring peace a. • • .
sThhaell faurowirngbeisforethe"extaccrittyix; of the King's abdication :
cord among Frenchmen. Finding it imposst • • .
plish this task, I bequeath it to my grandson, .
• I ,
Paris. May he be happier than I have been... • A
" Love P
" Tuileries, 24th of February, 1848."

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