We must now look back to the re-establishment of the Bourbons upon the throne in 1814, an event which took place under circumstances so uncommon as to excite extravagant expectations of national felicity; expectations, which, like a premature and profuse display of blossom, diminished the chance of the fruit ripening, and exasperated the disappointment of over sanguine hopes. For a certain time all had been gay and rose-coloured. The French possess more than other nations the art of enjoying the present, without looking back with regret on the past, or forward to the future with unfavourable anticipations. Louis XVIII., respectable for his literary acquirements, and the practice of domestic virtues, amiable also from a mixture of _bonhommie_, and a talent for saying witty things, was received in the capital of his kingdom with acclamations, in which the soldiers alone did not cordially join. They indeed appeared with gloomy, sullen, and discontented looks. The late imperial, now royal guard, seemed, from the dark ferocity of their aspect, to consider themselves rather as the captives who were led in triumph, than the soldiers who partook of it. But the higher and middling classes in general, excepting those who were direct losers by the dethronement of Napoleon, hailed with sincere satisfaction the prospect of peace, tranquillity, and freedom from vexatious exactions. If they had not, as they could hardly be supposed to have, any personal zeal for the representatives of a family so long strangers to France, it was fondly hoped the absence of this might be supplied by the unwonted prospect of ease and security which their accession promised. The allied monarchs, on their part, did every thing to favour the Bourbon family, and relaxed most of the harsh and unpalatable conditions which they had annexed to their proposed treaty with Buonaparte; as if to allow the legitimate heir the credit with his people of having at once saved their honour, and obtained for them the most advantageous terms.