Louis Philippe was a man of more than usual courage. In his early life he had displayed it at a critical moment upon the battlefield. In his middle age, in his famous progress to the Hotel de Ville, he had never hesitated to ride, without a military escort, through an armed and hostile mob. No king has probably been the object of attacks upon his life of so determined a character as Louis Philippe. The ever-present danger of assassination is said to have broken down the nerves of some of the boldest of men. But, throughout his reign, the "citizen king" always confronted this particular peril, to which he was so constantly exposed, with a serene and lofty courage. In the face of political difficulties, however, he was as timid as he was brave when it was a question of meeting physical danger. His attitude towards the Jacobinical spirit, which the "glorious days of July" had so greatly stimulated, is characteristic of his weakness in this respect. It is not improbable that in his heart he was secretly convinced of the ultimate triumph of revolutionary principles. Be that as it may, he appears to have shrunk from attacking Jacobinism openly and boldly. He seems to have looked upon it as a most dangerous monster which it was advisable to coax and to humour, in the hope that, by careful handling, it might be temporarily subjugated.[8] In the days which intervened between La Fayette's acceptation of him and his actual enthronement, he lost no opportunity of putting his theory into practice. Youthful Republicans were admitted into his presence, and he submitted to be questioned about his political principles.[9] It is probable that in some of these discussions he was induced to promise far more than he afterwards found it convenient, or even possible, to perform. On many occasions afterwards he was, in consequence, reminded of a more or less mythical _Hotel de Ville Programme_, with the conditions of which he was accused of having broken faith. But of all the difficulties by which he was confronted in these early days, the demand for a vigorous foreign policy was by far the most serious to deal with. The convinced democrats, who had been so bitterly opposed to his enthronement, were now the most vehement in insisting upon the adoption of a spirited course of action abroad. Without doubt, these men represented only a small minority of the nation, but, when they talked of military glory and of "natural frontiers," they appealed to sentiments which a "king of the barricades" could not afford to disregard. It was a matter of indifference to the demagogues of the party that the flower of the army was in Algeria, that many of the regiments at home were demoralized by their recent collision with the people, and that France had neither allies nor financial credit. The war for which they clamoured was to be conducted upon strictly revolutionary principles. "Peace with the nations, war with the kings," the old cry was to be