language of a man of honour; but the consideration that one of two
courses was honest, and the other not, never entered into his
motives for action. He was bold in forming plots, and skilful in
conducting them; but in the hour of trial and under the confront of
physical danger he was paralysed by constitutional timidity. His
great aim in life was to be conspicuous--digito monstrarier--
coupled with a theatric mania which made scenic effects and
surprises essential to the eminence he craved.

Handling this key to his character, Kinglake pursues him into his
December treason, contrasts the consummate cleverness of his
schemes with the faltering cowardice which shrank, like Macbeth's
ambition, from "the illness should attend them," and which, but for
the stronger nerve of those behind him, would have caused his
collapse, at Paris as at Strasburg and Boulogne, in contact with
the shock of action. It is difficult now to realize the commotion
caused by this fourteenth chapter of Kinglake's book. The Emperor
was at the summit of his power, fresh from Austrian conquest,
viewed with alarm by England, whose rulers feared his strength and
were distrustful of his friendship. Our Crown, our government, our
society, had condoned his usurpation; he had kissed the Queen's
cheek, bent her ministers to his will, ridden through her capital a
triumphant and applauded guest. And now men read not only a
cynical dissection of his character and disclosure of his early
foibles, but the hideous details of his deceit and treachery, the
phases of cold-blooded massacre and lawless deportation by which he
emptied France of all who hesitated to enrol themselves as his
accomplices or his tools. Forty years have passed since the
terrible indictment was put forth; down to its minutest allegation
it has been proved literally true; the arch criminal has fallen