New-York tribune., 1870-12-12

gnawing consciousness of Il work und0nc. mo
turnkey was responsible for the conduct OF
his life. He followed his natural instincts and
sunk into the man of letters. He wrote vague
pamphlets 0n historical and soSal subjects,
and an essay full of philosophical rcmOtencss
from facts on the extinction Of paupcrism.
After six years of this tranquil life, DR.. Con-
ncau invented plan of escape, and bullied
him into it and out of Jail. He was again the
prey of impotent dreams, until the catastrophe
of the house of Orleans opened to him once
more the gates of France, and the blind wor-
ship of name elevated this shadow of an
imperial shade to the Presidency OF the Re-
public.
The motives with which no mounted the
tribune on the day of his Inauguration, ana
protested his undying fidelity to the Constltu-
ton, and the considerations that guided HIM
in his term of Office up 10 the day OF ms llnal
crime, will never be known. He alone OF all
men is acquainted with them, and him we can
never believe. 1t is most probable that he
had no deep-laid scheme of treason. He was
satisfied with the Presidency at first f; but as
the time drew near for him to give up his
place, he was besct by his needy parasites
and managers, and his whole nature, at once
dishonest and indOlent, shrank from the pros
pect of private life and poverty. lie gave his
adhesion to the plot of December, and Morny,
st. Arnaud, and Magnan carried 1t through,
while he sat shvering in the Elysees, waiting
for glory or shameful death. without franc
in his pocket. The great crime succeeded, and
the great criminal has had money and power
ever SINCE enough and to spare. But he has
never had peace of mind never a day of tran
auillity OF repOse. OF course we do not mean
to credit him with remorse. We do not sup
pose his sleep has ever been broken by the
ghosts of the innocents his accomplices slaugh-
tered in the streets of Paris. 1t is an empty
stomach that breeds remorse for crimes. Your
Tweeds and Fisks, and such, think they are
rather good fellows rs long as they keep out OF
the Tombs But this accidental Emperor has
been haunted by the ghost of the real Empire.
His days have been poisoned with the neces-
sity of inordinate effort. If he had been born
in the purple from line of kings, he might
have been satisfied to serve as fgure-head
of power letting the world go on without his
flashing himself about it. But he felt called
upon to wear with some pretense OF merit a
power he stole.
There is no other theory which can account
for those causeless blunderS of the Crlmea, OF
Italy, of Mexico of Prussia. Oppressed by
the weight of an illegitimate name, lashed by
n consciousness of impotence, ne was always
cntaneling himself in ill-considered schemes,
which his feeble and vacilating will prevented
him from ever bringing to profitable issue.
The Crimcan war has brought about the
present entente between King William and the
Car. France rcaps for his sowing in Italy
the ingratitude of the house Of Sardinia.
From Mexico came nothing but the lesson of
Qucrctaro, and the just enmity OF America.
And the whole fruit of his restless diplomacy
in Germany for years is the unheeded warn
ing of Sadowa and the shame and ruin OF
Sedan.
Last Spring il was thought he could not
survive the year. The cares Of power, the
necessity of appearing more than he was,
seemed rapidly killing him. But from the day
of his capture and imprisonment, his health
has steadily improved. lie eats with the old
zest of boyish days at Arenenberg. lie sleeps
as he did in the Chateau of Ham. His life
has become real again after long years OF
humbug. The frog splashcs contentedly about
in his puddle, satisfied with being the biggest
there, and does not crack his hide with
trying to be an OK. He has even
resumed his old and harmless habit
of pamphcteering-which is the delight
of his heart He has written q history of his
last campaign, wherein he cuts an almost he
rOic iigure-and promises more. The desperate
death struggle of agonizing France, unwilling
to recognize the abyss of misery to which he
has dragged her, excites from him only
smirk of cOmplacency. He remarks on the
hOpeleSsneSs of her efforts with the GOODNESS
of the philosopher and historian. The errors
and indisCretiOns of her Provisional Govern
ment meet with no mercy, in his judicial eyes.
His life is happy, and free from care. His
judgments are sOunder than in the old days of
worry. The Empress is at Chiselhurst, and
the royal cook is at Wlhemsh6he. Somebody
else governs France. The Imperial waist
coats refuse to button.
We hope these balcyon days may last for
ever We desire not the death of the wicked.
King William could do no greater wrong to
his royal brother than to force him back upon
that thorny throne. If Kings do not care for
the good of peoples, they at least have some
fellowship with each other. Let this fellow
ship now have way, and let NJ. Bonaparte be
placed on the retired list, which is so benc-
fetal to his health
That old institution at Yale, the Wooden Spoon.
has been abolished at least temporarily, the present
Junior Class voting not to present one The Spoon
a Yltr