try at the service of you who
are its head. We are repaid with calumnies--they talk of Cromwell--of
Caesar. Had I aspired at power the opportunity was mine ere now. I swear
that France holds no more devoted patriot. Dangers surround us. Let us
not hazard the advantages for which we have paid so dearly--Liberty and
Equality!--"

A democratic member, Linglet, added aloud--"and the Constitution--"

"The Constitution!" continued Napoleon, "it has been thrice violated
already--all parties have invoked it--each in turn has trampled on it:
since that can be preserved no longer, let us, at least, save its
foundations--Liberty and Equality. It is on you only that I rely. The
Council of Five Hundred would restore the Convention, the popular
tumults, the scaffolds, the reign of terror. I will save you from such
horrors--I and my brave comrades, whose swords and caps I see at the
door of this hall; and if any hireling prater talks of outlawry, to
those swords shall I appeal." The great majority were with him, and he
left them amidst loud cries of "_Vive Buonaparte!_"

A far different scene was passing in the hostile assembly of the Five
Hundred. When its members at length found their way into the Orangery,
the apartment allotted for them, a tumultuous clamour arose on every
side. _Live the Constitution! The Constitution or death! Down with the
Dictator!_--such were the ominous cries. Lucien Buonaparte, the
president, in vain attempted to restore order: the _moderate_ orators of
the council, with equal ill success, endeavoured to gain a hearing. A
_democrat_ member at length obtained a moment's silence, and proposed
that the council should renew, man by man, the oath of fidelity to the
Constitution of the year _three_. This was assented to, and a vain
ceremony, for it was no more, occupied time which might have been turned
to far different account. Overpowered, however, by the clamour, the best
friends of Napoleon, even his brother Lucien, took the oath. The
resignatory letter of Barras was then handed in, and received with a
shout of scorn. The moment was come; Napoleon, himself, accompanied by
four grenadiers, walked into the chamber--the doors remained open, and
plumes and swords were visible in dense array behind him. His grenadiers
halted near the door, and he advanced alone towards the centre of the
gallery. Then arose a fierce outcry--_Drawn swords in the sanctuary of
the laws! Outlawry! Outlawry! Let him be proclaimed a tr