tion to revisit Prussia, yet he was a French general and an Amer ican citizen, and he would make no promise that would compromise his future conduct in either of those relations.

A romantic scheme adopted by Huger and Bohlman, two of our countrymen, having failed to effect his release by stratagem, Napoleon, who had now risen to a height that inspired respect if not terror, obtained the liberation of the only man in France whom he could not corrupt. But the consul, while he thus yielded to the importunities of the friends of justice and of liberty, did not omit to censure Lafayette's stubborn impracticability in refusing to accept the conditions which had been tendered by the Austrian authorities.

Lafayette returned to France. But it was struggling, hopeful France no more. The frenzied delirium of the republic was past. Danton, Marat, and Robespierre, had perished on the same scaffold which, during Lafayette's absence, had drunk the blood of Louis and Marie Antoinette. The foundations of the empire were already laid on the mingled and confused ruins of the monarchy and the republic. Napoleon knew both the gratitude and the popularity of Lafayette, and offered him a seat in the senate. Lafayette declined it, and solicited leave to resign his commission in the army. When all France beside himself, intoxicated with Napoleon's brilliant military successes, voted to constitute him first consul for life, Lafayette dissented, declaring: "I can not vote for such a magistracy until liberty has been sufficiently guarantied. When that shall have been done, then I will vote for Napoleon Bonaparte." He addressed a letter to the first consul himself on that occasion, and, after appealing to the triumphant general to establish a free constitution for France, he closed with these frank and manly words: "I have no other than patriotic and personal motives in wishing for you, as the climax of your glory, a permanent magistrative post. But it is in harmony with my principles, my engagements, the actions of all my life, to ascertain, before I vote, that liberty is established on foundations worthy of France and of you. I hope, general, that you will now admit, as you have already had occasion to do before, that to firmness in adhering to my political opinions are joined sincere wishes for your welfare, and a profound sense of my obligations to you."

The soul of Napoleon had no chord that could be touched by such generosity as this, and so the letter of Lafayette closed the

communication between these two eminent men, the representatives of the antagonist principles of France during nearly half a century.

What honors, what power, did not Lafayette thus forego! During a dozen years Napoleon subverted and established thrones, and bestowed fortunes and states on those who propitiated him with a lavish hand. But Lafayette's constancy never failed. He remained quiet and content at La Grange, engaged in books, in agriculture, and in the companionship of true men.

When the majestic structure of empire that Napoleon had built crumbled in its shock against the great empire of the north, and the miscalled deliverers of Europe restored the ancient monarchy under Louis XVIII., all who had been neglected by Bonaparte, and even most of those who had basked in his favor, and been enriched or ennobled by his patronage, pressed to the throne of the Bourbon with congratulations. I am sure I need not say that Lafayette was not among them nor of them.

When, again, Napoleon escaped from Elba, and enacted that delirious and final act, the restoration of the empire, and men who had forsworn him under the "restoration" again gave up their allegiance to the "man of destiny," Lafayette nevertheless remained at La Grange, indifferent between the kingdom and the empire for the time for France to acknowledge and accept his aid had not yet come.

That time came at last, when Napoleon having already lost in his last battle, on the fatal plain of Waterloo, the power to save the great country that had idolized him, demanded new levies to resist the allied powers, then on their triumphant march to the capital. Lafayette reappeared in the tribune: "When," said he, "for the first time after many years, I now raise a voice which the old friends of liberty may yet be able to recognise, I find myself obliged to speak of the dangers of our country, which you alone are able to save. The moment has come for rallying around the old tricol ored standard of 1789-that of liberty, equality, and public order." Lafayette declared that enough of treasure had been spent and enough of blood had been shed to prove the fidelity of France to the emperor. The chamber declared itself permanent, and enacted that any attempt to dissolve it would be high-treason, and punished as such. In a meeting held with closed doors, in the night after adopting this decree, Lucien, the most insidious

and eloquent of his august brother's advocates, addressed the chamber, and was evidently sure of success. Lafayette rose, and, without waiting to ascend the tribune, replied in a voice marked by deep emotion: "What has just been asserted is a calumny. Who dare accuse Frenchmen of inconstancy toward Napoleon? Did they not follow him through the sands of Egypt and over the deserts of Russia? Have they not stood by him on fifty battlefields in disaster as well as in victory? and is it not for having followed him so faithfully and so long, that they have to mourn the millions of brethren perished?" It is said that even Lucien himself, penetrated with the justice of this noble reply, bowed respectfully to the venerable speaker, and was silent.

Lafayette exerted every effort to re-establish popular institutions around the now restored throne of the Bourbons, but he was defeated by the coalition of the friends of the empire with the friends of the monarchy.

Lafayette was among the deputies sent by the newly-organized government to treat with the allied sovereigns, on the terms of the capitulation of France. After long and fruitless consultation, the English embassador impatiently demanded of Lafayette whether he would accept of peace on condition of delivering up Napoleon to the allies. "I am surprised," replied the Frenchman, "that in submitting to us so odious a proposition, you should have addressed yourself to one of the prisoners of Olmütz."

When the negotiations were near their conclusion, as the government of Louis XVIII. was again coming in, he wrote to the Count Capo d'Istria, in behalf of Hortense, the daughter of Josephine. "Have you had the kindness to speak in behalf of an unfortunate woman whose mother was so generous to me in my captivity, that I can never forget her, even though they should call me a Bonapartist ?"

Resigning France as was inevitable to the reign of the Bourbons, under the protection of the holy league of Europe, Lafayette again retired to La Grange, and he remained there until 1819, when he resumed his seat in the chamber of deputies, which he continued to fill until the foundations of the state were again broken up in 1830.

It has been asked "Why did Lafayette support the election of Louis Philippe as king of France ?"-" Why, after having supported that election, did he abandon the chosen king of France

so soon?"-"Why did he not understand the chief of Orleans better before consenting to his election as king?"-" Why did Lafayette resign the office of lieutenant-general with such seeming caprice?" These questions embody the argument of the prevailing government and party in France, against the venerable patriot who had carried her safely through the last one of so many revolutions. At some hazard of being thought desirous of gaining importance by relating conversations held with him by myself, I shall give you in the simplest way, his own reply to this argument so industriously urged by his enemies.

"It has been said," he remarked, "that I made Louis Philippe king. That is not true. But it is true that I consented that he should be king. I acted not without hesitation even thus far. But what could I do? What else could be done? The

people had achieved a revolution. The chamber of deputies contained a large majority of patriots, but not of republicans, although there were many republicans. But all France regarded republicanism with horror on account on the terrible excesses of 1793, and nobody as yet was willing to renew the experiment. The great desire of every one was, to bring the revolution to an early end, because, although the people had behaved well thus far, it was, nevertheless, feared that they would become turbulent, and thus the tragedy of the old Republic would be re-enacted. What was to be done? The only one of the Bonapartes whom it was practicable to call to the throne, was the young Duke of Reichstadt, and he was a minor, a valetudinarian, and in the hands of the Austrians. He had been educated by them, and it was natural to believe, he was imbued with the prepossessions, prejudices, and principles of that court. Besides, the name of Bonaparte was associated with the reminiscences of military despotism. The throne of his successor must be made sacred by a return, in a great measure, to the same despotic system; and so there were, you see, insuperable objections to the restoration of the Napoleon dynasty. We could not safely proclaim a republic. We had no republican army to rely upon, nor could such a government at this time secure the confidence of the people, and we knew full well that, as soon as it should be proclaimed all Europe would be combined against us. The attention and the prepossessions of all the actors in the revolution were already engrossed by Louis Philippe. I was little acquainted with him. I knew that he had been a republican in his youth. He had talents, learning, and knowledge of the world. He was a little too fond of money, but he had, hitherto behaved very well, especially in America. The general sentiment indicated Louis Philippe, but it was agreed that, before he should be created king, an interview with him should be had, and his sentiments and principles should be ascertained, and he should be bound to a constitutional monarchy, which should be organized in such a way as to prepare for introducing the republic. Accordingly I left the people at the Hotel de Ville, and sought Louis Philippe. The first thing he said to me was, 'Well, General Lafayette, what is to be done?' I answered. 'You are well aware that I am a republican. It seems to me that the constitution of the United States is the best form of government that has ever been devised by man.' Louis Philippe replied, 'My sentiments agree precisely with yours, and no man can reside in America two years, as I have done, without being convinced that the government of the United States is the best that can be framed. But after all, what shall we do now? You know the prejudices and terrors with which the republican system is now regarded in France. We can not depend on the army. Half of the troops are Carlists, and we shall have all Europe invading us the moment that we proclaim a republic.' I replied, 'I am aware of all this, and, therefore, I think it is most desirable now to give quiet to France, and to consummate the revolution. It is best, therefore, to establish now, and for a time, a monarchy, but one in which the monarchical principle shall be limited as much as possible, and to encircle the throne with republican institutions, and so, by educating the people, we shall prepare them for the republic as soon it shall be safe to establish it.' Louis Philippe

rejoined, these are my very thoughts, I have reflected upon the subject, and I agree fully in all the sentiments you have expressed.' Thereupon I returned to the Hotel de Ville, and announced to the people there that, the sentiments of Louis Philippe agreed exactly with my own, and, as you know already, he was then made king. We caused him to swear to a charter containing two fundamental articles, one the sovereignty of the people, and the responsibility of the government to them; the other, 'universal suffrage,' and he further pledged himself, that a law should be submitted, to begin immediately the great work of education. I was made lieutenant-general of the kingdom. I did not wish that office, but it seemed necessary to satisfy the people, and attach them to the new government. Besides I saw that if I should decline the place it would furnish occasion for the calumny, that I wanted to be king myself. Thereupon I assumed the office, and for a time, all went on well. Louis Philippe promised to support the liberal cause in Italy, and Belgium, and throughout Europe. Stimulated by our example, aud our success, the republican cause began its movement in Poland, Belgium, and Italy. It encountered the resistance we had anticipated, and then it looked to us for support. Louis Philippe had not the courage to sustain it as he had promised. I remonstrated against his policy of abandoning to destruction those whom we had excited to take up arms. He persisted, and so left them to their hard fate. He then became very anxious that I should resign my office; and he indulged, or affected apprehension lest, in the hands of a successor, the office might become too powerful for the safety of France. I was more desirous to resign it than he was that I should retire. I felt that, I could not hold it longer consistently with justice to myself, and my known principles. Louis Philippe had already begun to lay the foundations of a new Bourbon dynasty, which he designed should be perpetual, instead of conducting the government so as to prepare the way for a republic, as he had promised me. I would have no hand in such schemes. I was a citizen of the United States, a republican. I knew that my name was associated with the cause of liberty and republicanism wherever that cause was cherished. I never intended to seek or hold office merely for the sake of office under any government, and I had accepted the place of lieutenant-general only to advance that cause. I could not retain it under the circumstances without lending the sanction of my name whatever it might be worth, to the principles of the new dynasty, and that would be doing violence to the faith I had in the republican cause, and disgusting, and so discouraging the friends of that cause throughout the world. For these reasons I resigned. Louis Philippe afterward said that he made no engagement with me preparatory to his ascent to the throne. As soon as I learned this in an authentic way, I sent a message to him that I should not any longer visit the Tuilleries, and so the breach between us was completed.”

I have already deprecated the censure of self-conceit, which the presentation of the recollections of such memorable conversations may draw upon me. But I must be allowed now to say that, my heart never swelled with pride for my country, more than it did when I received from the lips of Lafayette, this avowal of his citizenship of this country as the controlling principle of his conduct in that great crisis, so full of importance to his own native land, and to the cause of freedom throughout the world. These conversations were held in his own private chamber, which was embellished with only a bust of Washington, and the cold marble seemed to warm and smile during the narration to which I listened.*

I must bring this discourse to a close. How could I so effectually have performed the task of eulogium, which you have

*Other interesting reminiscences of Lafayette will be found among the "LETTERS FROM EUROPE," pp. 6 of this volume.-Ed.