The Sun.
London, England, 1854-01-17 00:00:00

rely on it, it never will be said that- he
forgokt a kindness or abandoned a friend. The

sharers in his sorrows are associated with his

prosperity, and the claims alike of Ham and St.
Helena found no tardy welcome in the palace of
the Elysee. The companion of his prison is now
the first physician of his Court, and the legatees of
his uncle were amongst the objects of his earliest

solicitude. Let ignorance Mistake, and pre-
judice misconstrue and animosity misrepresent
him, his life has been, and will be, their re-
futation. While strangers paint him, fashioning
the portrait from rumour or from impulse, my ap-
pliances are more authentic. He sat for the pic-
ture. To those who have studied him and known
him best, I appeal, as to your lordship, for the

fidelity of the likeness.
It was in London, and at this time, that he
organised the so much derided and so little under-
stood expedition to Boulogne. Ho failed, but it
was a failure against which no wisdom could have
guarded. He trusted and was betrayed. There
is the whole secret. Let it be remembered that of
the sixty persons composing that expedition, from
Montholon downward, not one repined at it. Those
who gained by the failure laughed at it, of course.
Alas, they laugh no longer. Was it, indeed, really
so ridiculous ? Was it a futile confidence which
reposed so trustfully in the magic of a name ? See-
ing what we see, have we a right to say so ? Wash-
ington and Cromwell both succeeded, and accord-
ingly history calls them heroes ; but had they
failed, one would have been a rebel—nothing more ;
the other, merely a crazy fanatic, or a derided
Roundhead.: So true it is success stamps upon
everything a character. Had that project pros-
pered—in favour of which, except for treachery,
there was every calculation—Napoleon would have
been, what he now is, a few years earlier, and then
how different would have been the commentary !
We know what it would have been because we have

it before our eyes. We see it in the abject and
despicable homage with which the high-born rabble
bend before the fortunate. Well and truly did
Napoleon's advocate expose this baseness before the
Peers of 1840—the loyal Peers who at first refused
the Prince even his title—the grateful Peers across
many of whose shoulders his uncle had flung their
robes ! " Speaking on your conscience and before
God (exclaimed the eloquent and dauntless Berryer),
and in the presence of us, who know you, say, if he
had succeeded—if he had triumphed, I would have
,denied him ; him will I acknowledge as a compe-
tent judge." This was in the year 1840. The
prudent Peers postponed their answer till 1852.
The world heard, and history has recorded it.

Tho result of this trial has been made matter
of accusation against the Emperor. Indeed, what
incident of his life has not. Louis Philippe,
it seems, saved his life—twice spared it—after
Strasburgh and Boulogne, and he repaid him with
ingratitude ! This is simply falsehood. Ingrati-
tude is alien to his nature. Let any Englishman
who ever chewed him the slightest civility say
whether he has forgotten it. Where, however,
was the ingratitude ? Was it in revisiting Swit-
zerland from America ? The answer to that is, in
the Prince's own words, in a letter to the deputy
for La Manche, when on the eve of his embarkation
—" It is quite untrue that I have ever been asked
to make the least promise not to return to Europe."
The Procureur-General formally admitted this in
1840 in the Court of Peers. Or was it in his sub-
sequent escape from Ham ? The answer to that is,
ho was a prisoner under sentence, bound by no
parole of any kind. Ho refused to bind himself—
he refused his liberty offered on the sole condition
that he would so bind himself. He had no cause
for gratitude during that captivity. Indeed, at
first, he had reason rather to complain. On the
22d. of May, 1841, he appealed to Europe against
the way in which he was treated, in a solemn pro-
test. " During the nine months (it says) which I
have now been in the hands of the French Govern-
ment, I have submitted patiently to indignities of
every description. Ido not, however, wish longer
to be silent, or to authorise oppression by my
silence." "By an infinity of details too long to
enumerate, it appears that pains are taken, at
every instant of the day, to make me sensible
of my captivity, and hear the incessant cry of
" Vce victis." It is important to call to mind that
none of the measures which I have pointed out
were put in force against the Ministers of Charles
the Tenth, whose dilapidated chambers I now oc-
cupy, and yet these Ministers were not " born on
the steps of a throne." "Ifit be supposed that
such measures will subdue me, it is a mistake ; it
is not outrage but marks of kindness which sub-
due the hearts of those who suffer." Though this
did not fail altogether of its effect, still there was
no pledge whatever, written or oral, positive or
implied, that he would endure imprisonment for
one moment after it was possible to evade it ; and
he did not ; and it is as well here distinctly to con-
tradict the very current rumour that the prisoner
of Ham was, in the most remote degree, indebted
to the Government for hailing ceased to be so. Or
did this alleged ingratitude consist in his accepting
the sovereignty of France ? A strane charge from
the friends of Louis Philippe, the cousin of Charles
the Tenth. What does the Count de Chambord
say to it ? Is memory " fused" also in the amal-
gamation of Frodshroff ? Napoleon Louis has, to
say the least of it, as good a title to the throne he
occupies, as either of the branches of the house of
Bourbon. Do they claim from royal ancestry ?So
can he, and mate his ancestor with the proudest of
their dynasty—he, the son of a king, the nephew
of kings, the heir to an emperor, and such
an emperor ! Do they claim from their ap-
pointment by the people? The people can-
celled it in 1792, and Philip Egalite blotted
it out with blood ; or do they claim from
the restoration of 1815, carried at the point of fo-
reign bayonets, and shattered again by France in
the person of Charles the Tenth ? Or do they claim
from the accident of an emeute which superseded one
Royal cousin for another—thus annihilating "right
divine" without the substitute of a national election?
If so, the nation negatived it in 1848, and Europe
taught wisdom by mournful experience, at last dis-
covered that the right of choosing a governor lay
in those who were to be governed. Louis Philippe
lost his throne, not through the plot of any one,
bat through the general disgust at a system of cor-
ruption which even Guizot could not control by his
power or counteract by his integrity. So far for
the accusation of ingratitude. But no cause for
gratitude ever has arisen. Your lordship, at least,
has not to learn that the busy slander which has so
long found a " local habitation" in the breast of
many is, after all, merely an " airy nothing." The
fact is, Louis Philippe never spared the prince's
life, the prince never having been condemned to
lose it. For the Strasburg affair ho was never tried
at all. A trial, however, he demanded—loudly
demanded, in order that by his testimony he
might endeavour to mitigate the fate of his
associates. Ho was refused a trial—who will
say it was not a wise refusal—it seems to me
to have sprung from the profoundest policy.
But, it is not the fact that the refusal of a trial
necessarily saved the life of Napoleon. It is
not credible that under the circumstances any
French tribunal would have decreed his death. He
was tried by the Court of Peers for the self same
offence charged against him at Strasburg—" the
exciting of a civil war, seeking to change the order
of succession to the throne, and inducing the citi-
zens to arm against the royal authority," an offence
unquestionably punishable with death by the 87th
and 91st articles of the penal code. But what was
the sentence of the Court of Peers ? Not death,
but perpetual imprisonment. Here are the very
words of the decree. I need not say that the
offence charged -was the landing at Boulogne :
"Le complot ayant pour but l'un des crimes
prevus au present article, et la proposition de
former un complot, seront punis des peines portees
en l'article 89 suivant les distinctions qui y sont
etabli. Vu pareillement les art. 57 et 60 du code
penal ; attendu que les peines doivent etre gra-
duees selon la nature et la gravite de la participa-
tion de chacun des coupables aux crimes commis.
" Condamne le Prince Charles-Napoleon Bona-
parte a l'imprisonment perpetual dans line forte-
resse situee sur le territoire continental du roy-
aume."

The others were sentenced, one, to deportation,
and the rest to various terms of captivity. The
hand of Louis no wheref appears in the decree of
I
the Court of Peers. any doubt could possi-
bly, after this, remain urest by the protest of pponrituhcee,subject, it is set at
to. " With respect (it thesoys) to
my llieegreatlopfoosrietiaolulu,dthede
tCiooutartl roefnPaelteur.s hasß created, in my case, an excep-
it condemning me to perpetual
imprisonment,
adios only legalised the decree of
fate which has m me
endeavoured to combine
ahuprarisonn. policy, by
ter
wofirrp. It
inflicting upon The the mildesta pluynishment for the
longest possible time. In its execution, however,
the Government has fallen very far short of the in-
tention which I am pleased to ascribe to myjudges."
So far from mercy being extended to his case, he
alleges that the mercy really intended, was neu-
tralised. Far indeed is it from impossible, had
the sentence been death, that it would have been
commuted. The Citizen King would scarcely have
forgotten that through the interference of the
" good Hortense," his own aged mother, Adelaide
de Bourbon, received a, pension of 400,000 francs
when she was in dire extremity. lie might have
remembered also, that to the same angelic influence,
his aunt, the Duchess of Bourbon, wag indebted
for the relief she supplicated from it. The mother
of Napoleon Louis effected this for both these
Royal supplicants, and their letters of solicitation
and gratitude are extant. Neither perhaps would
a monarch whose sagacity was never questioned,
have dug a grave beside that of the brave Ney, for

the sepulture of a more illustrious victim. Thi

deed of 1848 might have been ante-dated had the
Place de Greve been reddened with the blood of a
Bonaparte. But the fac t its ellfails. No life was spared
because no life was declared forfeit. In 1845, in-
deed, after five years of suffering, an offer was made
to restore the Prince to freedom, but upon condi-
tions to winch he could not accede. He might
have exchanged his dungeon-fortress for liberty—
he might have received the blessing of his dying
father—could he have stooped to make a faithless
promise. The alternative was a life-long captivity
linked to a sacrifice inappreciably painful and he
preferred it. When the time came, that noble self-
denial had its reward. His prison gates opened
upon a throne. The people remembered to what
good account he had turned his captivity—how
mid his own sorrows he had pondered upon theirs,
and with what affection in his essay for their relief
he so feelingly and finely said—" In misfortune it
is natural to think of those who suffer." Yes, to
a generous and noble mind ; mere vulgar sorrow
is absorbed in selfishness. This was not forgotten
during the presidential contest. The streets of
Paris were placarded with proof, that the poor
remembered the philanthropy of the prison. Me-
morials of his thoughtful Essay on Pauperism'
were everywhere to be found. It was the fortress
of Ham which first taught France the true charac-
ter of its captive. Within the walls which had
witnessed the fruitless repinings of the Royal-
ist ministers, Napoleon meditated on the wants
of the poor, the interests of the army,
and the improvement of manufactures. His►
works on these subjects soon challenged universal
attention. The committee of manufacturers dis-

tributed three thousand copies of his treatise on
the sugar question, and his general labours pro-
cured for him the notice of Arago, the counsel of
Sismondi, the eulogium of Beranger, and a pre-
cious tribute from a quarter whence, perhaps, it
was l east to be expected. In 1841 the royalist
Chateaubriand, thus addresses—not the possessor
of a throne who had any thing to give, but the
inmate of a prison who had every thing to suffer.
" Your love for public liberty, your courage and
your troubles would in my eyes put all rights on
your side, if to deserve your esteem I did not feel
it my duty to remain faithful to Henry the Fifth,
as lam faithful to the glory of Napoleon. I can-
not sufficiently express my admiration of tlr3
calmness of mind you display in the place in which
you now dwell ; you derive this power from your
race." The gat2s of Ham lay open to him at last
but not by Royal clemency, or as has been absurdly
rumoured, by Royal connivance either. After six
years of captivity, of heroic suffering and chivalrous
self-sacrifice, he returned to England, under the
assumed title of Count D'Alembert. There exist
proofs of many a kind and generous act performed
by Napoleon even during his detention. For him,
indeed, it may be truly said—

" Stone walls did not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage."

at least so far as the heart was concerned. His
spirit was free, and its noblest impulses had ample
scope. The reserve, however, in which he habitu-
ally shrouds himself may not now be violated,
though that very reserve has made him the victim
of the grossest misconception. Few can see in the
taciturn recluse, the talents, attainments, and ac-
complishments, which he undoubtedly possesses.
They are only revealed by some unlooked for acci-
dent, such as occurred at this time, during his
residence in London. A great meeting happened
to be held. concerning some projected scientific
operation in Central America. All the principal
engineers in the metropolis were present, and to
their surprise, they found the Prince in the midst
of them. To their still greater astonishment, be
rose to address them ! He—what could he know
on such a subject ? They thought of Strasburg,
and they thought of Boulogne, and of course, very
little did they think of Napoleon Louis. A change
however, was soon to come "over the spirit of
their dream." What was their amazement when
they found. him a perfect master of the subject
versed in its details—familiar with all its bearings,

and manifestly a proficient in the abstrusest
ciples of the science to be applied to it ! Such is
the man, and such he will be found, when an
emergency demands him. Perhaps, indeed, there
are few better informed, or more accomplished
gentlemen in Europe. Six years of studious s9h-
tude in Ham, and twenty of unwearied application
in Switzerland have stored his mind with every

variety of information. In the exact sciences be
is profoundly skilled no ordinary linguist
thorough engineer—equally apt with pen or pencil
—and with an intellect prompt to apply, WY
and usefully, the knowledge it has treasured.
Amongst other charges, a fashion has prevailed
of attributing rashness to the Emperor ! It is an
ignorant mistake. A more cautious man is rarely
be met with. Examples enough of this temPo-
rament are at hand. Take a single and a striking
instance. On the flight of the House o Orleans,
at the solicitation of friends, he repaired at Once t°..
Paris. Over-sanguine partizanship thought the crisi"
ripe. Not so Napoleon. With philosophic calmness
he scanned the wondrous spectacle before bin'
The nation seemed upheaving from its foundationt
A throne in ruins—a maniac population—the socini,
compact in process of dissolution—the scum °I
society rising, as usual, in the revolutionad
cauldron—adventurers, without helm or chart, 0;
compass, or system, seeking to steer the State .
Such was the bewildering vision he encountereat
and he turned from it in disgust. It was, to be
sure, within the range of possibility that his name
migt have operated, as a talisman, on the multi;
tude. It was a tempting hazard and difficult 01
resistance, but the tempation was overcome. Once
more in England, he pored over the past, studied
the present, and carefully matured his preparatiouo
for the future. This was assuredly not the course
of an enthusiast, ready to rush headlong into
strife, even where some advantages might have
augured victory. Alone and patiently he watched
his time—it came at last—and, with it--T'
EMPIRE. There it is again—the gorgeous strut
'
ture of the First Napoleon, with all it°
grandeur, all its might, and graced with all
glorious, recollections ! There it is, despite °
clubs, cabals, and coteries—despite of Faubourgl
Royal or Republican—of scowling generals and
sneering statesmen, and prophetic historians,_ an
all the motley of a discomfited opposition. There
it stands—a fact accomplished, and a fact wilict,
;
has no parallel in history. There it is, and there
he is, too, the necromancer of this mighty tra,nsfa'
mation. See him—the shunned, the life-long 013:
tive—the lonely exile, hunted from land to land
the homeless, the all but friendless, the entire
fortuneless, on the throne of France 44 Alone
he did it." See him enrolled into the fraternity °
kings, and what to him gives it a priceless valued
enrolled there by the people. It is remarkable
that, though by the senatus-consultum of 1-81
and by the deaths of his father and his 10°,0
Joseph, he stood in direct succession to t'e,
empire, he waved at once the hereditary claim, rd
cognising no title but that of popular election. Alla,
under all the circumstances this wan prudenc,"
There is no muniment in Europe more valid thw'
his sovereignty. " The people gave it and he ,„
ceived it," and he will retain it so loncr as
0
keeps his compact with the people.
All the foolish, if not wicked, rumours raised
tit
his accession have long since evaporated. --°/0
Lordship may remember some of them. He -04.0..
have steeped the world in war ! He was to have les
vaded England ! They know not the man. s,efeb
was announcement more sincere than that vom
thrilled through Europe—" The Empire is Peace;
War ! What can a Bonaparte derive from Wnag
All glory's gifts enrich that name already. It 013430
alongside those of the Caesars, the Alexanders, 11d4,
Hannibals, and all that history reveals of greator
The Eagle which soared against the Sun of Aus'ev
litz has winged its way into the regions of imin°,l
tality. The invasion of England Had such 4e
hallucination ever crossed his brain, he would halve
banished it at once. He knows our nation, and 0
knows that the soil whose very touch gives, freed°o
to the slave would never brook the tread' of be
invader. The hazard of the waves evaded,
id
would find a fortress in every hill, and, alif,,"o,
need be, in every city in England, a Sag,lll"-ll
If his march was one of victory, it would be throntro
ruins. He knows all this, and accurate:l,y estitunbp
our spirit, our strength, and our resouro es. n°ll+oo
less he has heard the anecdote of old Sot dt upou
subject. Dining one day amongst m )me
friends, the contemplated invasion was idiscussen'eeil
was during the Orleans reign, howevor . All aW
that nothing could be easier. " G eritlemen Lei!
the veteran), such is not my opinion . I have Lt:
in Birmingham, and I saw them m,z3ce a munte
But rely on it, higher and nobler -principles of
fluence Napoleon. Why should he tsigh after lie
ritory or conquest ? Does not the lo vely real stir
governs demand all his energies and all his to
and is not its compass abundant for any sant:loco
bition ? Willingly would he obliters to eyed' l'ofo
of discord between two fair lands
.vhich 5110°
has united by the ties of neighbo urhood. sf
every act, since ho had power, h.; is prove,u the
Rivals lie would have them, but it Ag -ould be 1135 t
blessed rivalries of peace —their centecc,
friendly competition for the promotion of the rieo'
mon happiness. The heart, too ha s its mein°.
Never would he stain that soil with lhl'ood, cil
01'
his need afforded him a refuge- --never ele
ho sadden that mild and gentle, spirit', iv
contentment of whose subjects beneatl4glll
sway he witnessed. Never would .he will
that peace imperil in defence of which he enlyeist
himself amongst the very humblest of e‘ur i.
No, no, indeed, the exile is not forgotten ple
Emperor. It was but the other clay in Ill"