Metternich, the inveterate trickster, does not appear to have had any serious thought of encouraging the project of making the Duke Emperor of the French.  His subtle game was to use him as a terror to Louis Philippe when that monarch became refractory or showed signs of covetousness.

The Prince carried himself high above sordid party methods.  He was proud of being heir to a throne that his father had made immortal and he was determined not to soil it.  If it was to be reclaimed, all obstacles must be removed ere he would lend his countenance to it.  There must be a clear, uninterrupted passage.  Thirty-four million souls, it was claimed, were anxious for his restoration to France.  Amongst the leaders were to be found some of his father’s old companions in arms and in exile, amongst whom none were more enthusiastic than the loyal and devoted Count Montholon, Bertrand, the petulant and penitent Gourgaud, and Savary, Duke of Rovigo.  These were joined to thousands of other brave men who would have considered it an honour to shed their last drop of blood for the cause, and in memory of him whom they had loved so well.  The two first-named were executors to his father’s will, in which Napoleon enjoins his son not to attempt to avenge his death but to profit by it.  He reminds him that things have changed.  He was obliged to daunt Europe by his arms, but now the way is to convince her.  His son is urged not to mount the throne by the aid of foreign influence, and he is charged to deserve the approbation of posterity.  He is reminded that “MERIT may be pardoned, but not intrigue,” and that he is to “propagate in all uncivilised and barbarous countries the benefits of Christianity and civilisation.  Religious ideas have more influence than certain narrow-minded philosophers are willing to believe.  They are capable of rendering great services to humanity.”

These are only a few of the excellent thoughts transmitted to the young man from the tragic rock whose memories will ever defame the name of those who combined to commit a crime unequalled in political history.

It is none the less a phenomenon that this “abode of darkness,” so monstrous in the history of its perfidy, should be illumined by the great figure that stamped its fame for evermore with his personality.

One of the last and finest works of genius he did there was to draw up a constitution for his son.  It is doubtful whether Montholon ever succeeded in conveying it to the Prince, who passed on before the legitimate call to put it into practice came.

The Powers that made holy war for the last time on the great soldier with 900,000 men against his 128,000 arrogated the right to outlaw and brand him as the disturber of public peace.  I have already said this was their ostensible plea, but the real reason was his determination to exterminate feudalism and establish democratic institutions as soon as he could bring the different factions into harmony.  He failed, but the colossal cost of his failure in men and money is unthinkable.  His subjugation left Great Britain alone with a debt, as already stated, of eight hundred millions, and then there was no peace.