Buonaparte is a political bugbear, most convenient to _any_
administration: "if you do not adopt our measures and reject those of
our opponents, Buonaparte will be sure to prevail over you; if you do
not submit to the Government, at least under _our_ administration,
this formidable enemy will take advantage of your insubordination, to
conquer and enslave you: pay your taxes cheerfully, or the tremendous
Buonaparte will take all from you." Buonaparte, in short, was the
burden of every song; his redoubted name was the charm which always
succeeded in unloosing the purse-strings of the nation. And let us not
be too sure,[8] safe as we now think ourselves, that some occasion may
not occur for again producing on the stage so useful a personage: it
is not merely to naughty children in the nursery that the threat of
being "given to Buonaparte" has proved effectual.

It is surely probable, therefore, that, with an object substantially
the same, all parties may have availed themselves of one common
instrument. It is not necessary to suppose that for this purpose they
secretly entered into a formal agreement; though, by the way, there
are reports afloat, that the editors of the _Courier_ and _Morning
Chronicle_ hold amicable consultations as to the conduct of their
public warfare: I will not take upon me to say that this is
incredible; but at any rate it is not necessary for the establishment
of the probability I contend for. Neither again would I imply that
_all_ newspaper editors are utterers of forged stories, "knowing them
to be forged;" most likely the great majority of them publish what
they find in other papers with the same simplicity that their readers
peruse it; and therefore, it must be observed, are not at all more
proper than their readers to be cited as authorities.

Still it will be said, that unless we suppose a regularly preconcerted