An apology, or rather a palliation of Buonaparte's usurpation, has been set up by himself and his more ardent admirers, and we are desirous of giving to it all the weight which it shall be found to deserve. They have said, and with great reason, that Buonaparte, viewed in his general conduct, was no selfish usurper, and that the mode in which he acquired his power was gilded over by the use which he made of it. This is true; for we will not under-rate the merits which Napoleon thus acquired, by observing that shrewd politicians have been of opinion, that sovereigns who have only a questionable right to their authority, are compelled, were it but for their own sakes, to govern in such a manner as to make the country feel its advantage in submitting to their government. We grant willingly, that in much of his internal administration Buonaparte showed that he desired to have no advantage separate from that of France; that he conceived her interests to be connected with his own glory; that he expended his wealth in ornamenting the empire, and not upon objects more immediately personal to himself. We have no doubt that he had more pleasure in seeing treasures of art added to the Museum, than in hanging them on the walls of his own palace; and that he spoke truly, when asserting that he grudged Josephine the expensive plants with which she decorated her residence at Malmaison, because her taste interfered with the prosperity of the public botanical garden of Paris.[93] We allow, therefore, that Buonaparte fully identified himself with the country which he had rendered his patrimony; and that while it should be called by his name, he was desirous of investing it with as much external splendour, and as much internal prosperity as his gigantic schemes were able to compass. No doubt it may be said, so completely was the country identified with its ruler, that as France had nothing but what belonged to its Emperor, he was in fact improving his own estate when he advanced her public works, and could no more be said to lose sight of his own interest, than a private gentleman does, who neglects his garden to ornament his park. But it is not fair to press the motives of human nature to their last retreat, in which something like a taint of self-interest may so often be discovered. It is enough to reply, that the selfishness which embraces the interests of a whole kingdom, is of a kind so liberal, so extended, and so refined, as to be closely allied to patriotism; and that the good intentions of Buonaparte towards that France, over which he ruled with despotic sway, can be no more doubted, than the affections of an arbitrary father whose object it is to make his son prosperous and happy, to which he annexes as the only condition, that he shall be implicitly obedient to every tittle of his will. The misfortune is, however, that arbitrary power is in itself a faculty, which, whether exercised over a kingdom, or in the bosom of a