rhetoric of the past had infected France with a foolish fear of all
free debate. The Tribunate signed its own death warrant; and the sole
result of its feeble attempt at opposition was that Madame de Staël's
_salon_ was forthwith deserted by the Liberals who had there found
inspiration; while the gifted authoress herself was officially
requested to retire into the country.

The next act of the central power struck at freedom of the press. As a
few journals ventured on witticisms at the expense of the new
Government, the Consuls ordered the suppression of all the political
journals of Paris except thirteen; and three even of these favoured
papers were suppressed on April 7th. The reason given for this
despotic action was the need of guiding public opinion wisely during
the war, and of preventing any articles "contrary to the respect due
to the social compact, to the sovereignty of the people, and to the
glory of the armies." By a finely ironical touch Rousseau's doctrine
of the popular sovereignty was thus invoked to sanction its violation.
The incident is characteristic of the whole tendency of events, which
showed that the dawn of personal rule was at hand. In fact, Bonaparte
had already taken the bold step of removing to the Tuileries, and that
too, on the very day when he ordered public mourning for the death of
Washington (February 7th). No one but the great Corsican would have
dared to brave the comments which this coincidence provoked. But he
was necessary to France, and all men knew it. At the first sitting of
the provisional Consuls, Ducos had said to him: "It is useless to vote
about the presidence; it belongs to you of right"; and, despite the
wry face pulled by Sieyès, the general at once took the chair.
Scarcely less remarkable than the lack of energy in statesmen was the
confusion of thought in the populace. Mme. Reinhard tells us that
after the _coup d'état_ people _believed they had returned to the