Not that Constant had a free hand:  he worked under imperial inspiration.  The present effort was named the Additional Act—­additional, that is, to the Constitutions of the Empire (April 22nd, 1815).  It established a Chamber of Peers nominated by Napoleon, with hereditary rights, and a Chamber of Representatives elected on the plan devised in August, 1802.  The Emperor was to nominate all the judges, including the juges de paix; the jury system was maintained, and liberty of the Press was granted.  The Chambers also gained somewhat wider control over the Ministers.[471]

This Act called forth a hail of criticisms.  When the Council of State pointed out that there was no guarantee against confiscations, Napoleon’s eyes flashed fire, and he burst forth: 

“You are pushing me in a way that is not mine.  You are weakening and chaining me.  France looks for me and does not find me.  Public opinion was excellent:  now it is execrable.  France is asking what has come to the Emperor’s arm, this arm which she needs to master Europe.  Why speak to me of goodness, abstract justice, and of natural laws?  The first law is necessity:  the first justice is the public safety.”

The councillors quailed under this tirade and conceded the point—­though we may here remark that Napoleon showed a wise clemency towards his foes, and confiscated the estates of only thirteen of them.

Public opinion became more and more “execrable.”  Some historians have asserted that the decline of Napoleon’s popularity was due, not to the Additional Act, but to the menaces of war from a united Europe:  this may be doubted.  Miot de Melito, who was working for the Emperor in the West, states that “never had a political error more immediate effects” than that Act; and Lavalette, always a devoted adherent, asserts That Frenchmen thenceforth “saw only a despot in the Emperor and forgot about the enemy.”

As a display of military enthusiasm, the Champ de Mai, of June 1st, recalled the palmy days gone by.  Veterans and conscripts hailed their chief with jubilant acclaim, as with a few burning words he handed them their eagles.  But the people on the outskirts cheered only when the troops cheered.  Why should they, or the “electors” of France, cheer?  They had hoped to give her a constitution; and they were now merely witnesses to Napoleon’s oath that he would obey the constitution of his own making.  As a civic festival, it was a mockery in the eyes of men who remembered the “Feast of Pikes,” and were not to be dazzled by the waving of banners and the gorgeous costumes of Napoleon and his brothers.  The opening of the Chambers six days later gave an outlet to the general discontent.  The report that Napoleon designed his brother Lucien for the Presidency of the Lower House is incorrect.  That honest democrat Lanjuinais was elected.  Everything portended a constitutional crisis, when the summons to arms rang forth; and the chief, warning the deputies not to imitate the Greeks of the late Empire by discussing abstract propositions while the battering-ram thundered at their gates, cut short these barren debates by that appeal to the sword which had rarely belied his hopes.