1855.]

Peace Premature.

95

same time that it would not be becoming in a foreigner to set himself up as a judge of the blunders of any other Government than his own.

I thought that I had expressed myself clearly. At any rate what I wanted to say, if I did not say it, is, that the present events created in my opinion a new and great danger for your aristocracy, and that it will suffer severely from the rebound, if it does not make enormous efforts to show itself capable of repairing the past; and that it would be wrong to suppose that by fighting bravely on the field of battle it could retain the direction of the Government.

I did not intend to say more than this.

I will now add that if it persuades itself that it will easily get out of the difficulty by making peace, I think that it will find itself mistaken.

Peace, after what has happened, may be a good thing for England in general, and useful to us, but I doubt whether it will be a gain for your aristocracy. I think that if Chatham could return to life he would agree with me, and would say that under the circumstances the remedy would not be peace but a more successful

war.

Kind regards, &c.

A. DE TOCQUEVILLE.

CONVERSATIONS.

Paris, Hôtel Bedford.-Friday, March 2, 1855.— We slept on the 27th at Calais, on the 28th at Amiens, and reached this place last night.

sidering how difficult it is to procure soldiers by vol enlistment, and how easily every nation can obtai by other means, I do not see how you will be hold your high rank, unless your people will co something resembling a conscription.

Dangerous as it is to speak of a foreign venture to say that England is mistaken if that she can continue separated from the 1 world, and preserve all her peculiar instituti enced by those which prevail over the w Continent.

In the period in which we live, and, still period which is approaching, no Europe long remain absolutely dissimilar to all believe that a law existing over the w must in time influence the laws of Gr withstanding the sea, and notwithstan and institutions. which, still more th... separated you from us, up to the prese

My prophecies may not be accompl but I should not be sorry to deposit notary, to be opened, and their truth. fifty years hence.

(

stion

We

us, and

· Is. He Sent at a italism will

But it is He will have

ung circum

even to the

Comp

it long. I posed as the

My object in my last letter as you seem to think, to accus having mismanaged the Crimean been mismanaged, but who has b

Indeed I know not, and if I di

le. If he

Sepol falls. It

rely to look pliment

Tocqueville, of the

ed by decent behaviour ne an heir. His talents no principles, and no good the bone. I watched him . the Constituent.

e perverse than his votes, nor speeches. He is unfit to conortion of society, and naturally e arms of those who are waiting to olent, the rapacious, and the anhim at least some adherents.' hear,' I asked, 'of his conduct in the

Tocqueville, 'that he showed want, not urage, as of temper and of subordination.

H

Tocqueville called on us this morning. We talked of the probability of Louis Napoleon's going to the Crimea. I said, 'that the report made by Lord John Russell, who talked the matter over with him, was, that he certainly had once intended to go, and had not given it up.'

'I do not value,' said Tocqueville, 'Lord John's inferences from anything that he heard or saw in his audiences. All Louis Napoleon's words and looks are, whether intentionally or not, misleading. Now that his having direct issue seems out of the question, and that the deeper and deeper discredit into which the heir presumptive is falling, seems to put him out of the question too, we are looking to this journey with great alarm. We feel that, for the present, his life is necessary to us, and we feel that it would be exposed to many hazards. He ought to incur some military risks, if he is present at a battle or an assault, and his courage and his fatalism will lead him to many which he ought to avoid. But it is disease rather than bullets that we fear. He will have to travel hard, and to be exposed, under exciting circumstances, to a climate which is not a safe one even to the strong.'

'But,' I said, 'he will not be exposed to it long. I have heard thirty, or at most forty, days proposed as the length of his absence.'

'Who can say that?' answered Tocqueville. 'If he goes there, he must stay there until Sebastopol falls. It will not do for him to leave Paris in order merely to look at the works, pat the generals on the back, compliment

1855.1

Prince Napoleon.

97

the army, and leave it in the trenches. Unless his journey produces some great success-in short, unless it gives us Sebastopol-it will be considered a failure; and a failure he cannot afford. I repeat that he must stay there till Sebastopol falls. But that may be months. And what may months bring forth in such a country as France? In such a city as Paris? In such times as these? Then he cannot safely leave his cousin—Jérôme Plon swears that he will not go, and I do not see how he can be taken by force.'

'I do not understand,' I said, Jérôme's conduct. It seemed as if he had the ball at his feet. The rôle of an heir is the easiest in the world. He has only to behave decently in order to be popular.'

'Jérôme's chances,' answered Tocqueville, 'of the popularity which is to be obtained by decent behaviour were over long before he became an heir. His talents are considerable, but he has no principles, and no good sense. He is Corsican to the bone. I watched him among his Montagnards in the Constituent.

'Nothing could be more perverse than his votes, nor more offensive than his speeches. He is unfit to conciliate the sensible portion of society, and naturally throws himself into the arms of those who are waiting to receive him—the violent, the rapacious, and the anarchical this gives him at least some adherents.'

'What do you hear,' I asked, 'of his conduct in the East?'

'I hear,' said Tocqueville, 'that he showed want, not so much of courage, as of temper and of subordination.