scow grounded on the opposite bank, the bow rounded to, and cat fish, perch, bull-head, and sucker, darted through the gap, and made tracks for the most secluded parts of the Nepperhan! But he who held the net was equal to the emergency-he cursed the boat out at right angles in instant—a small minority of the fish still remained, and these were driven into the net. General Washington, with an impulse like that of a Titan rooting up an oak, pulled up his end, the net split, and every specimen of ichthyology slipped through the rent, and made a bee-line for the Hudson!

"Nary fish!" said an innocent bystander. General Washington turned

an eye upon him that was like a Drummond light, dropped the net, took off his hat, and then proceeded to give that individual such an account of his birth, parentage and family connections from the earliest settlement of Westchester County to the present time, that a parental regard for the ears of the young Sparrowgrassi, induced me to hurry them off the coal-barge in the quickest kind of time. But long after the scene was out of sight, I could hear rolling along the face of the rocky Palisades, the reverberations of the big oaths, the resonant shadows of the huge anathemas, that had been the running accompani ments to the sucker fishing on the Nepperhan!

THE

HE career of Napoleon Bonaparte is not only one of those inexhaustible themes which will ever interest the human mind, but is a subject which demands, on the part of the historian, the highest intellectual and moral qualifications. Any man, especially in these times, is presumptuous who undertakes the task of portraying the deeds and influence of Napoleon, who is not sustained by such attainments; and he who does not make a real contribution to this field of inquiry-who does not add to our positive knowledge of his subject, has failed, whatever may be said of the interest he excites among ordinary read

ers.

Mr. Abbott, in his recent work, has attained a high degree of popularity among a certain class of readers, and he has, therefore, earned the fame of success. And whatever questionable opinions he has advanced, he cannot probably be accused of insincerity. He has done his best, and made a very readable book; since his style is fair, and his pages are filled with entertaining anecdotes.

Nevertheless, of all the popular works which have recently come from the American pre-s, we believe that Mr. Abbott's history of Napoleon is one of the least creditable as an intellectual production, and one of the most exceptionable on moral grounds. He has not only pandered to popular prejudices, but has shown a singular obtuseness to great

moral distinctions. We thought the day was past for idolatry of military successes, and mere Titanic strength without reference to the objects to which it may be directed. But Mr. Abbott has made a demi-god of a man whom the enlightened part of the French nation regards as the overturner of constitutional freedom, and whom the Christians of other countries have been taught to consider as great in evil as he was in good. He has undertaken to remove our English prejudices, and enlighten us as to the faultless excellence of a man who kept the civilized world in commotion and fear for nearly a quarter of a century. Napoleon, according to him, neither committed blunders nor crimes. All he did was philanthropic, useful, good, designed to benefit mankind, and contribute to human happiness. He was a sort of Providence on the earth, dispensing favors, and punishing injustice, and bringing good out of evil. He was an incarnation of all goodness, eagerly seeking to promote peace and good will to inen. Never have we read such an uninterrupted strain of fulsome panegyric of any mortal from the beginning to the close of his career-defying all the laws of historical criticism, insulting our understandings, and making a mockery of our moral sense. The blackest atrocities are palliated and excused; nor, in the whole history, do we find a single line of downright, earnest reprobation of any

act of the warrior whom he has taken for his idol. We know of no human being whom philosophical history can speak of in unmitigated praise or censure; but it seems from Mr. Abbott, that one faultless and beneficent mortal did arise in the last generation to bring about the reign of peace and justice upon the earth.

Our author begins with tracing back, as idolators generally do, the descent of his hero from the illustrious men of the middle ages, and enumerates the early anecdotes of his filial piety as well as the indications of his future fame. "There were no tendencies to cruelty in his nature," though he loved to mimic war, and "delighted, in fancy, to sweep away the embattled host with discharges of grape-shot, and witness the dying and the dead covering the ground."

There

was nothing wrong in his childhood, and he spends his days in sylvan solitudes, revelling in "the visions which arose before the expanding energies of his wonderful mind,” or—

"Sporting with Amaryllis in the shade,

Or with the tangles of Newra's hair."

At last the pensive boy, who had formed a romantic attachment to a fair-haired maiden that nothing could eradicate or divert, is sent to a military school, where, snubbed by aristocratic companions, he acquires a heroic disdain of rank. The ami ble youth, in whose bosom were "no nalignant passions," says, at the age of ten, "I hate those French, and will do them all the mischief in my power." Thus was engendered his "early love for republican institutions" -a love which seems to have pursued him in after life, not merely under the torrid skies of Egypt, but amid the frozen snows of Russia, where, in his republican zeal, he would chastise the Czar.

However, at this military-school of Brienne, the young Napoleon was a prodigy of attainments and industry as well as a faultless model of reproachless chivalry, cherishing in an infidel age "the spirit of humanity and just conceptions of right and wrong." He is also a marvel of eloquence, both in writing and speaking, so that his words, reminding

ment of second-lieutenant in a regiment of artillery, and, although "his fine head was developed disproportionably with his small stature," yet "his feminine proportions, when arrayed in uniforin, cause witty ladies to declare that he resembled nothing so much as 'Puss in boots.'" But the magnanimous young officer is not offended, and he presents to the mirthful maidens "an elegantly bound copy of Puss in Boots." In such anecdotes, the admiring author, with the critical sagacity of a Niebuhr, sees the presages of his future fame.

We do not want to detract from the creditable and promising character of Napoleon as a youth, nor, at this time, to enter upon a discussion respecting his genius and exploits. We admit, upon the outset, his marvellous talents, and still more marvellous successes-his greatness in war and in peace-his brilliant services to the State, and his just claims to fame. Our limits forbid a dissertation on Napoleon. It is our object, in this connection, to show only the way in which Mr. Abbott presents this greatness, these services, and this fame. We place Napoleon very high in the scale of great men; we only object to unmitigated panegyric, and would like to see some approximation to critical analysis, on the part of his biogra phers.

We cannot follow Mr. Abbott in all the stages of his hero's progress from the school of Brienne to the siege of Toulon, where he first distinguished himself in military affairs. His talents were early developed and rewarded; and, partly from a concurrence of fortunate circumstances, and partly from the knowledge of his abilities, he is entrusted with the charge of defending the National Convention when this body was menaced by a Parisian mob. The republican ardor of the young soldier, it seems, had been somewhat damped by the tempestuous excesses of the Revolution, of which he was an eye-witness, and he becomes the advocate of law and order. Nor had his services at Toulon received so speedy a reward as the impatient philanthropist had expected, so that he had resigned his commission, had returned to Paris, was disgusted with human nature, "looked like a madman," perhaps as his nephew looked in London, during the reign of Louis Philippe, and “abandoned himself to the expulsive power of a new affection."

At last a chance was offered to this unhappy philanthropist, pining away in

his desire to do good, and he succeeds with grape-shot, and restores the reign of law. This was a service, and we take pleasure in making honorable mention of it, since by his energy he had saved the convention and rolled back the waves of anarchy. This service was the true commencement of his great career, and laid the foundation of his fortune. But Mr. Abbott mildly observes that "Napoleon never ceased to regret the occurrence, and tried to forget, and have others forget, that he had ever deluged the streets of Paris with the blood of Frenchmen." No indignant invectives scape from Mr. Abbott in view of the massacre of Jaffa, or the butcheries of Borodino; but when Napoleon really endered a service to the cause of order and constitutional freedom, he discourses with all the mock humanity of a Socialist, and could make us believe that Napoleon regretted an act which was not only a duty but a good fortune.

For this splendid service Napoleon obtained the command of the army of Italy, and gloriously triumphed over the enemies who had contemplated the invasion of the soil of France, when France was struggling for the rights of man. He returns to Paris, covered with glory, as the conqueror of Italy, and the savior of his country, and we sympathize with his success, for he had proved himself a genius and a benefactor.

For this second great service he is rewarded with a new army for the invasion of Egypt. How does Mr. Abbott treat this third labor of the modern Hercules?

Was the invasion of Egypt a political necessity? Did Egypt menace the liberties of France or of Europe? Was it necessary even to gain possession of that country in order to ward off any attack of England in that quarter of the world? Or, was the invasion an act of ambition and desire of territorial aggrandizement? Was it not prompted by lust of conquest, to extend French influence in the East, and rival England in colonial acquisitions, and only to be justified by the same argument as Alexander could urge for pushing his conquests into India? Napoleon himself, wearied with his life in Paris, said, "We must go to the East, where there are six hundred millions of men."

The desire to conquer Oriental monarchies and rear up a gigantic empire in the East, was his earliest and most cherished dream. Nearly all historians

speak of this Egyptian expedition as a most ambitious adventure-not merely to extend French conquests, but to head off England herself.

Mr. Abbott says, "the expedition of Egypt was one of the most magnificent enterprises which human ambition ever achieved," in order "to establish in India governments which would respect the rights and promote the happiness of the people." In proof of this he quotes one of Napoleon's bulletins, "People of Egypt, I am come to restore your rights, and revive the true worship of Mohammed," and Mr. Abbott adds, with all the philosophical calmness of a Hallam, "It was an interesting peculiarity in the character of Napoleon that he respected all religions as necessities of the human mind." Such even is his faith in Napoleon's beneficence that he continues, "had he but succeeded in his designs, it is probable that Egypt would have been a civilized and prosperous land, with villas of elegance and refinement embellishing the meadows of the Nile, and the shores of the Red Sea would have echoed with the hum of happy industry, and opulent cities would have sprung up where the roving Bedouin now meets only desolation and gloom." Now if this is not, to say the least, most utterly wild and unfounded speculation, then we do not know what the English language means. Alas, for the cause of humanity! Napoleon failed, and the poor benighted and oppressed heathen of the Oriental world are still in their bonds and superstitions!

We do not so much object to the puerilities of Mr. Abbott-these are good for children-his book is professedly written for the young-as we do to his disregard for the principles of right and wrong. We do not like to see the career of unscrupulous ambition held up to admiration, or disguised under the veil of philanthropy and love for republican in stitutions. We prefer to call things by their right names-ambition we like to call ambition, and hypocrisy, hypocrisy; and we do violence to our moral feelings, and disregard the higher interests of truth, when we endorse such absurdities as Mr. Abbott presents as an excuse for the invasion of Egypt.

Napoleon returns to Paris, having almost miraculously escaped the English cruisers, covered with new glory as the conqueror of Egypt, thanks to those mendacious and audacious bulletins from which the venders of trashy novels in

these times might learn a lesson in the art of puffing. We will not comment on the balls, the fêtes, the illuminations, the ringing of bells, the roar of cannon, the rejoicings-the delirium of joy with which the hero of Aboukir was greeted by the people of France. These are the rewards of conquerors to stifle the accusing voices of conscience. These are the devices which the demon of war has ever made use of to blind the infatuated idolators of military heroes. The "conquest of Egypt" paved the way for the dictatorship; or, as Mr. Abbott asserts, for the hero "to rescue France from anarchy," when there was no other anarchy than rival factions seeking to monopolize power. The empire was the prey of the strongest, perhaps, and as the strongest ought to rule," according to Mr. Carlyle, Napoleon was justified for overturning the constitution which the representatives of the nation had framed, and the nation itself had accepted.

Napoleon," says Mr. Abbott, "formed no conspiracy against the Constitution." He never, surely, would rob France of her Revolution. He was too conscientious to intrigue for the sovereign power. Yet even our author goes on to relate how he bribed Lefebvre-the commandant of the guard of the legislative bodies, by a present of the sword he wore at the battle of the Pyramids, how he intrigued with the various heads of parties; how he contrived that the leading military chieftains should pay their court to him at the same hour on the famous 9th of November; and how the coup d'état placed him on a dictator's throne by the name of Frst Consul. There was no conspiracy here-amiable and charitable historian that thou artall the deeds of that day were black, but the chief actor of those deeds was white -he was innocent as a child; his fraud was simplicity, his treason was benevolence, an all for the good of France.

Thus Napoleon saved his country again, and carried everything before him by the fascinating charm of military renown. O! thou clear-sighted and inpartial critic, verily thou art a second Daniel, to reveal justice and moral wisdom. Step out, O learned judge, and receive the plaudits of the Cæsars and Cromwells of the world-of all tyrants who have overturned constitutions on the plea of revolutionary necessity. True, the nation approved of the usurpation, and voted it, after it had taken

place. Would it not have been more in accordance with our notions of republicanism, if the nation had voted the consulate before Napoleon decreed it, and before the representatives of the law were shut up in a dungeon when protest would have been madness. Since power and empires belong to the strongest, perhaps the usurpation of Napoleon III. was equally justifiable. The giddy crowd cried amen in view of their own degradation, yet, nevertheless, freedom gave one piercing cry to heaven for vengeance, and expired amid the blaze of sétes and illuminations. The usurper took up his residence in the old palace of the Bourbons, and commenced his reign as the autocrat of France-or as Mr. Abbott would say, as the defender of republican institutions.

He

We have no censure to pass on Napoleon as a sovereign ruler, until he became intoxicated by his victories, and the enormous elevation he had reached. He did seek, doubtless, to develop the resources of France, to make roads, build monuments, repair fortifications, restore credit, employ talent, reward genius, compile laws, and adorn his capital. He sought to add the laurels of Augustus to the more dazzling fame of Julius. wished to reign, surrounded like Louis XIV., with artists, philosophers, and scholars, adoring representatives of rank and learning, who should burn before his throne their perpetual incense. Like many other despots, he was kind to all who did not defy his power. He rewarded his idolators magnificently, and it must be confessed, reigned wisely and firmly. He also wished for peace, certainly until he had consolidated his power. And it would have been wise for England to have let him alone. Providence would have taken care of the results of the Revolution.

But did he continue to be the guar dian angel of the best interests of France Did his consulate satisfy him, even after his brilliant Italian campaign, the passage over the Alps, the victory of Marengo, the recovery of Italy, the humiliation of his foes? What shall we say of his second usurpation, the seizure of an imperial crown, and, with it, the revival of those antiquated pageantries which the Revolution had repudiated?

What has Mr. Abbott said in justification of the murder of the Duke D'Enghien, the repudiation of his wife, the subversion of ancient monarchies, the insults he heaped on other poten

tates, the invasions of Spain and Russia, and the ambitions resolution of establishing on the banks of the Seine a universal military monarchy? Christendom has pronounced these to be great crimes, and we must have cogent arguments to wipe away their disgrace. We do not want any pretty anecdotes here, how he gave smiles to ruined courtiers, and gold to broken-hearted widows. Humanity demands some convincing and overpowering reasons for these inonstrous evils. It is not enough that he conferred blessings, if these were cancelled by subsequent calamities. cannot forgive a man who has inflicted on our cause an irreparable wound, simply because he was once our friend. The verdicts of enlightened reason will never be in his favor.

We

What are the arguments of Mr. Abbott, in relation to the heartless and treacherous murder of one of the most irreproachable of the fallen Bourbons, which occurred during the Consulate? He maintains that he meditated a conspiracy against the life of the First Consal. But where is the evidence? Does Mr. Abbott bring forward anything to prove it? Can he prove more than that Napoleon suspected such a crime? The truth is, he hated and feared the Bourbons, and determined to root them out of Europe, as if he were an oriental despot. And the heir of the Condés was the only one whom he could seize, and him only by invading a neutral territory, and tearing him from his home as men kidnap slaves. And him Napoleon kidnapped, and executed like a malefactor.

The only expression we can find in the history condemnatory of this act is this:-"The spirit is saddened in recording these terrible deeds of violence and blood;" but he immediately adds, that "it is surprising that Napoleon could have passed through a career so wonderful and so full of temptation, with a character so seldom sullied by blemishes of despotic injustice." And with these philosophical remarks, one of the most inexcusable of all crimes, that of murder, is summarily dismissed. Nothing indignant escapes the author, and in the lenity of his sentence, we are reminded of the ancient Roman Senator, who, on hearing that one of his slaves had committed a willful murder, mildly remarked that he should surely be punished if he repeated the offence!

The alleged conspiracy of the Bour-
VOL. V.-28

bons against the life of Napoleon, "roused," says Mr. Abbott, "republican France, to increased efforts to consolidate the new government." So Napoleon, in order to gratify republican France, consented, though with reluc tance, to place upon his brow the imperial diadem, as if his life would be more free from the danger of assassination as Emperor than as Consul! If such an interpretation is meant for children, we protest against the falsehood; if it is meant for intelligent readers, it is an insult. Who does not know that the Senate, which decreed that Napoleon Bonaparte be nained emperor, was composed of his creatures, and that the people and the army to whom he appealed for the confirmation of this act, were his idolators and slaves! And did not Napoleon know that other crowned heads would not consent to this, and that it would be the signal of new wars which must deluge Europe in the blood of millions? Where was his republican zeal, or his benevolence, or his patriotism, in wading to a throne through seas of blood? True, it was no concern of England, Austria, or Russia, that he should assume any title which the French were ready to grant. But the penalty was before him for the gratification of his vanity-wars, conflagrations, and ultimate ruin. He took the risk, and reaped the penalty, but not until the victories of Jena, Austerlitz, and Eylau, wafted his fame to the ends of the earth. Abbott, however, in the abundance of his charity, put this construction on the motives of Napoleon: "he hoped that Europe would be conciliated by the change, since the allied monarchs entertained apprehensions that republican principles might extend through their dominions." We are tempted to lay down our pen and laugh at this superla tive nonsense. Europe feared Napoleon as the apostle of republicanism, and Napoleon, to silence the fears, became himself an emperor! As well might Brutus kill Cæsar, because he feared Cæsar's influence in promoting democracy! Neither Cæsar nor Napoleon was ambitious!

Mr.

No sooner had the peace of Tilsit given the emperor leisure to prosecute his plans of universal empire, than he cast his greedy eyes upon the Spanish monarchy, and resolved to annex it to his sway. The unhappy dissensions-between the old king Charles IV. and his children, favored his designs. French