In contrast with the priest and the nobles, Georges Cadoudal stood firm as a rock.  That suave tongue spoke to him of glory, honour, and the fatherland:  he heeded it not, for he knew it had ordered the death of Frotte.  There stood these fighters alone, face to face, types of the north and south, of past and present, fiercest and toughest of living men, their stern wills racked in wrestle for two hours.  But southern craft was foiled by Breton steadfastness, and Georges went his way unshamed.  Once outside the palace, his only words to his friend, Hyde de Neuville, were:  “What a mind I had to strangle him in these arms!” Shadowed by Bonaparte’s spies, and hearing that he was to be arrested, he fled to England; and Normandy and Brittany enjoyed the semblance of peace.[136]

Thus ended the civil war which for nearly seven years had rent France in twain.  Whatever may be said about the details of Bonaparte’s action, few will deny its beneficent results on French life.  Harsh and remorseless as Nature herself towards individuals, he certainly, at this part of his career, promoted the peace and prosperity of the masses.  And what more can be said on behalf of a ruler at the end of a bloody revolution?

Meanwhile the First Consul had continued to develop Sieyes’ constitution in the direction of autocracy.  The Council of State, which was little more than an enlarged Ministry, had been charged with the vague and dangerous function of “developing the sense of laws” on the demand of the Consuls; and it was soon seen that this Council was merely a convenient screen to hide the operations of Bonaparte’s will.  On the other hand, a blow was struck at the Tribunate, the only public body which had the right of debate and criticism.  It was now proposed (January, 1800) that the time allowed for debate should be strictly limited.  This restriction to the right of free discussion met with little opposition.  One of the most gifted of the new tribunes, Benjamin Constant, the friend of Madame de Stael, eloquently pleaded against this policy of distrust which would reduce the Tribunate to a silence that would be heard by Europe.  It was in vain.  The rabid rhetoric of the past had infected France with a foolish fear of all free debate.  The Tribunate signed its own death warrant; and the sole result of its feeble attempt at opposition was that Madame de Stael’s salon was forthwith deserted by the Liberals who had there found inspiration; while the gifted authoress herself was officially requested to retire into the country.

The next act of the central power struck at freedom of the press.  As a few journals ventured on witticisms at the expense of the new Government, the Consuls ordered the suppression of all the political journals of Paris except thirteen; and three even of these favoured papers were suppressed on April 7th.  The reason given for this despotic action was the need of guiding public opinion wisely during the war, and of preventing