THE FRENCH EMPEROR ; HIS CHARACTER, INTENTIONS AND NECESSITIES. [From the Economist.]

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume IX, Issue 810, 28 May 1853, Page 4

THE FRENCH EMPEROR ; HIS CHARACTER, INTENTIONS AND NECESSITIES. [From the Economist.]

Now that Louis Napoleon ia fairly seated on the throne to which be has aapired through so many years of disappointment, exile, imprisonment and iutrigue, it becomes a matter of the' deepest interest anil the most vital moment to English statesmen and English citizens thoroughly to understand the character, wishes, and intentiona of the tnan who thus wields without control the enormous military power of tljeir nearest neighbour —to penetrate, as far as possUsj the designs which be may entertaio, the ulteJ career which he proposes to himself, and those! cessities of his position which may drive bin courses which of his free will he never would bj adopted. These are difficult problems for si tion ; on this subject, as on most others, at rate knowledge is not easy of attainment 'France ; "Truth," as Barrow says, "cannot discerned amid the smoke of wrathful exjj sions ;" and the passions of those nearest tqj ; scene of action, and, therefore, most favour! placed for observation, are still so violent I . angry that their statements and opinions I rather misleading than informing, Neverthew|s| having bad opportunities of ascertaining the JJ^| timents of*rnost parties in France respecting the new Emperor, and having, it is fair to state, conversed with five of his enemies for one of his friend*, we shall endeavour to lay before our readers what in our judgment is the real state of the case. In the first place, it is quite certain, and is now beginning to be admitted even by bis bitterest enemies, that Louis Napoleon is not the foolish imbecile it was so long the fashion to consider him. Those who aided in recalling him to France and elevating him to the Presidency under the impression that one so silly and borni would be rendered a pliant tool in their hand* soon found that they reckoned without their host. His mind, it is true, is neither capacious, powerful, nor well stored ; but his moral qualities are of a most rare and serviceable kind. His talents are ordinary, but his perseverance, tenacity,! power of dissimulation, and inflexibility of will, are extraordinary. He is a memorable and most instructive example that great achievements are within the reach of a very moderate intellect, when that intellect is concentrated upon a single object and linked with unbending and undaunted, resolution. Moreover, his mental endowments, though neither varied nor comprehensive, are very vigorous. He is naturally shrewd, secret, and impenetrable. He has the invaluable faculty of silence. He has, 100, been a patient and wide observer. He has studied politics in Switzerland, in America, and in England. He has devoted his mind to that O|e subject. He is, too, a deep ihinker. He ponders much, which few Frenchmen do. His six years' captivity in Ham matured and strengthened, by silent meditation, whatever natural capacities he may have posaessed. He writes well and speaks well; and all his writings and speeches, even where they betray the nauow limits of bis knowledge, indicate an eminently thoughtful mind. He has brooded over the history, politics, and social condition of France till on these subjects he is probably one of the best informed men in the country, though,, like most of his countrymen, wedded to many absurd and impracticable crotchets which a better knowledge of political economy would explode. It is certain, also, that whatever he does and ssys is his own. He acts and speaks for himself without interference and without assistauce. He listens to every offe, asks advice from no one, giveshis interlocutors no idea whether or not their arguments have made the least impression upon him, but revolves bis plan* in the gloomy recesses of his own brain, and brings them forth matured, bomogeueoui, and unexpected. The minutest details of

the coupd'efaf were arranged by himself. AN those, from Changarnier and Thiers down to Faucher, who hate endeavoured to lead, drive, or govern him, have all been baffled, outwitted, and cast atide. When be rose at the table of Bordeaux ! to make his recent celebrated speech he observed to his Minister for Foreign Affairs, who sat next him — " Now, lam going to a»tonish you not a little." When he announced his intention of visiting Abd-el-Kader at Amboise, General St. Arnaud expressed his hope that Louis Napoleon would not think of liberating him, made a long speech expository of all the evils that would result from such a piece of Quixotic generosity, and quitted the President quite satUfied that be had succeeded in banishing any such scheme from bit thoughts. Nor was it till be actually heard Louis Napoleon announcing to his captive his approaching freedom that be was aware how much good argument he had thrown away. Whatever, therefore, of sagacity or wisdom is displayed in the language or conduct of the new Emperor must be credited to himself alone. But we shall greatly and dangerously misconceive Louis Napoleon il we regard him as a man of shrewdness, reflection, and calculation only. The most prominent feature of his character is a wild, irregular, romanesque imagination — which oiten overrides all his reasoning and reflective faculties, and apurs him on to actions and attempts which seem insane if they fail, and the acmi of splendid tudacity if they succeed. The abortions of Strasbourg and Boulogne, and the coup d'ttat oflast December, were equally the dictates — alike the legitimate progeny — of the same mental peculiarity. He believes, too, in his " star." He is even a blinder and rasher fatalist than his uncle. From early childhood be believed himself destined to restore the Dynasty of the Bonapartisls and the old glories of the Empire. He brooded over this imagined destiny during long years of exile and in the weary days and. nights of his imprisonment, till it acquired in his fancy the solidity and dimensions of an ordained fact. He twice attempted to pluck the pear before it was ripe. His ludicrous failures in no degree discouraged him or shook his conviction of ultimate success. He only waited for another opportunity, and prepared for it with more sedulous diligence and caution. He " bided his time :" the time came : he struck and won. After such success — after having risen in four years from being an impoverished exile to being Emperor of France — after having played the boldest stioke for empire known in modern history — after having discomfited, deceived, and overpowered the cleverest, the most popular, the most eminent, and the most experienced men in France,— we may well believe that his faith in hit *' destiny" is confirmed and footed almost to the pitch of monomania, and that no future achievement, no further pinnacle of greatness, will seem wild or impossible to him after a Past so eventful, marvellous, and demo-/ ralising. Another peculiarity of his character is, that be never abandons an idea or a project he has once entertained. If he meets with difficulties and opposition, he dissimulates or postpones ; he never really yield* or changes. Cold, patient, and inscrutable, he waits and watches, and returns to his purpose wheu the favourable moment has arrived. History afford! few examples of such a pertinacious, enduring, relentless, inexorable will. innrr -' c the

c\i; - ' „ ion "its * !'bo • in- * D 6 Cool, daring, imperturbable, cunning, and profoundly secret—-* perplexing compound of' the sagacious calculator and the headstrong fanatic — with a Urge navy, an unrivalled army, and a prostrate and approving nation — what is there ■which be may not attempt, and might not achieve? One other feature of Louis Napoleon's mind must be noticed before we can be in a position rightly to estimate the probabilities of hit future career. He ia a close and servile copyist of his uncle. He has studied profoundly not only the history of the first Napoleon, but his opinions on all matters of policy and administration. He believes, and we think justly, that Napoleon un-. derstood more thoroughly than any frenchman of his day the nature of the government which France needed, and the degree of self-government which she could manage and could bear ; that bis sagacity indjustcsse cT esprit on nearly all subjects of administration approached to inspiration : and that if he treads in his footsteps he may aspire to emulate his glory. (We do not, however, extend this remark to Napoleon's warlike conduct | and achievements.) This is a sentiment eminently misleading, and full of danger. The talents of the two men are so wholly different, the internal condition and to a great extent the character and feelings of the nation have been so changed by 35 years of peace and free institutions, that maxims and modes of proceedings sound and expedient then may be utterly inapplicable now. The dazzling fame and the wonderful sagacity of Napoleon I. may be the ignis fatuus which will lure astray Napoleon 111. to discomfiture and ruin. There are three sources from which a man's intentions and probable course of action may be inferred — his language, his obvious interests, and his known character. Let us see what light these means of judgment throw upon the projects and views of Napoleon 111., especially with regard to the all- important question of war and peace ; and if war, with what nation and with what ultimate design ? The words of Louis Napoleon — that is his public announcements and professions — unhappily can never be relied on as indicative of his intentions ; but if regarded at all, must be interpreted by the rule of contraries. He has surpassed even the usual limits of princely perfidy. By reI peated and most flagrant perjuries he has forfeited all reasonable hope of being believed, even when he speaks with sincerity and truth. Hence, when he proclaimed, " L Empire, e'est la paix /" we are reluctantly compelled to put the announcement aside as conveying no meaning, and giving no clue to hit real views and purposes. Other

words, however, spoken and written at earlier i times, and when there existed no direct or imme- ] dia'e motives for deception, may afford us the in- i dicaiions we desire of his habitual ideas, and his i fixed, permanent, and long-matured designs. Now, we know that long ago, at Ham and before, he repeatedly declared bis belief that be wai destined to restore the Empire tnd to recover the old boundaries of France. We know. that before the Chamber of Peers he said that " he represented a principle, a cause, and a defeat— the principle the sovereignty of the people at opposed to Legitimacy ; the cause, the Empire ; the defeat, Waterloo." We know tlat very recently he held up as Napoleon't itrongest title to the gratitude of Frenchmen that he abdicated rather than consent to her dismemberment — *. c, • hei confinement to her former limits. We be- i lieve, too — (we cannot say we know, because i our information is at one remove from first authority) — that he has more than once avowed to his . intimates his determination to have a page of history to himself, and his idea of realising hit ] ambitious dream by an achievement which no i one, since William, Duke of Normandy, has at- i tempted. So much for his language. i His immediate and obvious interests all lie on i i ho side of peace. With the great mast of the 1 French people of all classes, any war would now i be most unpopular. They want rest ; ibey want < prosperity ; they want lime to devote to tbe re- < storation of their shattered fortunes and the ad- i vancement of industry and wealth. They dread tbe increased taxation which war would inevitably bring. The more reflective among them — i and in this class might be mentioned some of the [ first military men in the nation— deprecate a war, because they believe it would be a war of aggression ; therefore, probably, a war agaiust combined Europe ; therefore in tbe end an unsuccessful one, and likely to be visited with heavy retaliation and certain dismemberment. The ouvriep* know that war would put a stop to much of the public and private expenditure which now causes their prosperity. Tbe commercial classes bate war instinctively as well as rationally. The railroads, and the constant intercourse they have encouraged, and tbe extensive intermarriages, connexions, and interlacing of interests which this intercourse has brought about, all cry ou' > loudly and powerfully for peace, especially for peace with England. The turbulent and unprincipled journalists, who used to be the great clamourers for war, and tbe mischief-makers who strove to fan every trifling misunderstanding into a bloody quar-. rel, are now effectually silenced. The Emperor it well aware of all this ; the enthusiastic reception of his pacific speech at Bordeaux mutt have confirmed his previous knowledge of tbe pacific desires of the people ; and we have bad ample opportunities of ascertaining that bis own friends aod supporters of all ranks of civilians deprecate war in tbe most earnest manner. Louis Napoleon is, we believe, sincerely desirous to promote tbe interests of France, and perfectly aware that * a war would be most inimical to those interests. He also perceives clearly how dangerous and impolitic it would be for himself and bis position ; aod he has more than once repeated the argument we put forth more than a year ago when urging upon him a pacific policy — viz., that war would be a suicidal folly in a civilian like himself;- for that an unsuccessful war would destroy him, and that the fruits of a successful one would be reaped by the general who led it. If, therefore, Louis Napoleon is guided by his own interests, or by his own clear perception of those interests, he will not voluntarily and dtliberstely engage in war. But is bis character such as to satisfy us (hat his policy and conduct will be guided by a regard to his own interests or bis own view of them ? Assuredly not. This can be safely predicted of few men — least of all of him. Men ar» governed by their passions and tbeir imagination quite as often as by their interests ; and we must remember what we have already shown to be tbe nature and idiosycrasy of the man. He it not only a shrewd, selfish, and sagacious calculator ; he is equally and pre-eminently a fanatic, a dreamer, and a fatalist — of a wild and -gigantes que fanry — pertinacious and inflexible in his ideas, to the very brink of monomania — secret and impenetrable in bis designs— uid, above all, utterly demoralised by his almost miraculous success. He never abandons an idea or a project ; he recoils from no rashness ; he believes no impossibility. Why should he? After the marvellous past, why should he doubt the future ? He succeeded in the coup d'etat — why should be fail in a coup de main extirieur ! Four years ago, he was a pauper, an exile, a supposed imbecile, whom everybody laughed at ; he is now Emperor of France by twice a* many suffrages as his uncle ever obtained. What, after this, need be despair of doing ? He believed himself destined to restore the Empire.; he hat restored it. He believes himself destined to recover -the imperial boundary line, and to wipe out the me* mory of Waterloo. Is be likely to shrink from the adventure ? It is sajd that he admires England and her institutions, and that he is grateful for the kindness and protection he met with while among us. Both "we believe to be true, but when did considerations of this sort ever restrain a politician who believes in " his start" But we must take into account not only Louis Napoleon's imagination, tiutiiis paseions. Now, - it is notorious that bis anger is vehemently excited against both England and Belgium, and for the same reasons. Both countries harbour his personal enemies and the refugees from bis tyranny ; and tbe Press in both countries has been unmeasured and unceasing in its abuse of him. Both countries he believes to be centres of perpetual plots sgainst his Government ; and if he supposed that be could seize the conspirators by a sudden imoad, like thai by which his uncle obtained possession of the Duke d'Enghien, we greatly question whether any motive of decency or prudence could restrain him from making the attempt. In the case of Belgium, too, bis irritation is shared by a great number of persons in Frauce : aud with the French nation tbe strongest motive for an attack on Belgium would not be tbe territorial aggrandisement, but tbe hunting out of what they regard as a nest of calumniators and conspirators. Now let us cast a hasty glance at those peculiarities of Louis Napoleon's position wbicb may leave him no free choice as to the line of action he shall adopt, but may compel him to be guided neither by his judgment, bis imagination, nor hir passions, but by bis necessities. The present prosperity of Francs is great, and the revenue

is improving, but tbe deficit it lnrge and the pub* lie expenditure on a most extravagant scale. Tb« unfunded debt is more extensive titan is at all safe, and it is scarcely likely that a loan could be easily negotiated — at least in tbe o\ en market of the world. Embarrassed 6nances, though in one point of view, they may make war difficult, may on the other hand drive tbe Emperor into sdme rash and desperate step to rehabilitate them. A war in an enemy's country can be made to support itself ; and a triumphant army abroad, besides the possibility of levying tribute and indemnity, it might be hoped, would cost less than an unemployed bnt fully equipped army at home. This may not be a very wise or sound speculation ; but we know that men in pecuniary difficulties are notoriously adventurous and wild, and something most be done soon to bring expenditure and revenue to a balance. But the real difficulty lies with tbe army. Res dura et repni novitas may compel the Emperor to do what, if left to himself and if omnipotent, he would most desire to avoid. Though it is not true that be relies solely on the army, though his hold over the affections and wishes of tin nation is general and strong, yet it is unque** tionsbly to the army in the first instance he owes his elevation ; the army is now the active agent in all political movements, and he must content the army if he wishes to retain bis, power. It is exceedingly numerous, reaching to nearly 400,000 men of all arms. Of these Algeria employs at tbe outside 80,000, and Rome 20,000. The remainder are either employed as policemen, or not employed at all. Now the members of every profession wish for occupation ; no man likes to rust away ; and the members of the military profession long, in addition, for prize money and promotion and adventure. Only a very limited number of them can be satisfied and kept quiet with decorations and pecuniary advantages ; the others become only the more restless, envious, and ambitions. If we except a few of the older and wiser generals, tbe army as a whole desires war. It cannot be otherwise :it is natural : it is notorious. Part of the army is already disaffected, and can only be restored to and retained in its allegiance by the lucrative and tempting prospects which war holds out. If the President reduced the army to such a number as could be fully employed in Algeria, Italy, and at home, he might keep his bold upon it without war, but he would make irreconcileable enemies of the disbanded troops ; and he dare not and could not afford to stake enemies of 100,000 trained, organised, and officered men. If he retains the army at it* present, or nearly its present, magnitude, he must, in order to satisfy it, and to regain and enforce his hold upon its affections or adherence, employ it. He must engage in war, whatever be its dangers at home or abroad. When placed, as be must soon be, between the alternatives of disgusting the people by war,, or disgusting the army by peace, he must xboose the former, for tbe army might defend him against tbe people; the could never defend him against tbe army. The people would be passive : tbe army would be active. The army is even now notoriously restless and dissatisfied. The Algerire regiments are inclined to the Orleans family-: many of those at home ■ are strongly infected with Republican or Socialist opinions. A war, especially a sudden^ dashing, and successful war, would at once rally them all to the Imperial regime. Louis Napoleon knows all this well. He will not like to be forced or hurried ; and war may probably i>e his la it card, let it is one which, sooner or later, he must play. His only security, and ours, would be in a disi-stnding of 70,000 of (he most disaffected troops, and the suspension of the conscription for the next two years. If he does not do this we may look out for the only oilier resource. But Louis Napolepn may not only be driven to war as a matter of necessary policy, which if successful would consolidate his throne, and, even if not immediately or brilliantly to, would postpone bis dangers, — he may be driven to ft, if bis fortunes become gloomy, and failure and destruction threaten him at home. If he sees bit power slipping from under him, be is exactly the man to make a desperate, even an absurdly wild attempt to recover it, by a sudden a'tack upon England. If such an attempt should be temporarily successful, or even brilliant in its failure, it would give him a new lease of power ; if otherwise, it would, as he well knows, dazzle tbe excitable and jealous fancies of tbe French, and impart a sort of lurid and grandiose lustre to bis fall. At all events, if a landing were effected, and a serious amount of injury inflicted (as could scarcely fail to be the case,) he would have gratified one passion of his morbid mind, and have gained a gaudy, though a stained and disgraceful " page of history to himself." To tun] up the whole. All the obvious and well understood interests of Louis Napoleon dictate to him the preservation of peace and the direction of all his energies to the development of the commerce, internal industry, and general resources of France ; and be himself is perfectly, coolly, and avowedly, aware of this. But he believes that, sooner or later, his destiny is war ; he is conscious, also, that the necessities of his position may leave him no choice in the matter ; and, finally, desperation may drive him to do what prudence would peremptorily forbid. In what form and direction war may first break out — whether by a direct aud sudden foray upon our shores, or by an attack on Belgium, which would irresistibly involve us in her defence — we need not speculate now. Happily our rulers have at ■last become thoroughly awakened to the necessity of diligent preparation for any contingency, though not till their apathy and negligence had excited tbe utter amazement of every statesman in Europe and every thoughtful military man and unbiassed observer at home. Tbe result may be — we trust in a good Providence that it will — that timely preparations may avert tin danger, and prevent the attempt from < being made. In that ckse we shall of course be abused by the economists and by the thoughtless for our " needless" caution and exertion*. But tbis Ministers and journalists must be prepared to meet and disregard. The man who was deterred by the fear of such senseless invective or such silly ridicule, if a Minister, would deserve to be impeached — if a journalist, would be unf ortby of bis high vecalion, and a traitor to his sacred trust.