liberals justly disquieted at the dangers with which they saw freedom menaced. Already the journals had been suppressed, with the exception of thirteen; the laws were voted without dispute; and, "in a veritable whirlwind of urgency," the government claimed to regulate the duration of the discussions of the Tribunate. Benjamin Constant, still young, and known for a short time previously as a publicist, raised his voice eloquently against the wrong done to freedom of discussion. "Without doubt," said he "harmony is desirable amongst the authorities of the Republic; but the independence of the Tribunate is no less necessary to that harmony than the constitutional authority of the government; without the independence of the Tribunate, there will be no longer either harmony or constitution, there will be no longer anything but servitude and silence, a silence that all Europe will understand." The past violence of the assemblies, and their frequent inconsistencies, had wearied feeble minds, and blinded short-sighted spirits. The speech of Benjamin Constant secured for his friend Madame de Staël a forced retirement from Paris. The law was voted by a large majority, and the adulations of flatterers were heaped up around the feet of the First Consul. He himself took a wiser view of his position, which he still considered precarious. On taking up his residence at the Tuileries, in great state, on February 19, 1800, he said to his secretary, "Well, Bourienne, we have reached the Tuileries; the thing is now to stop here."