ight of its own
incompatible objects and impracticable desires.
While Napoleon in this closing struggle wasted the last remnants of his
fortune and power, he encountered no disappointment or obstacle from any
quarter of France, either from Paris or the departments, the party in
opposition, or the public in general. There was no enthusiasm in his
cause, and little confidence in his success, but no one rose openly
against him; all hostility was comprised in a few unfavourable
expressions, some preparatory announcements, and here and there a change
of side as people began to catch a glimpse of the approaching issue. The
Emperor acted in full liberty, with all the strength that still
pertained to his isolated position, and the moral and physical
exhaustion of the country. Such general apathy was never before
exhibited in the midst of so much national anxiety, or so many
disaffected persons abstaining from action under similar circumstances,
with such numerous partisans ready to renounce the master they still
served with implicit docility. It was an entire nation of wearied
spectators who had long given up all interference in their own fate, and
knew not what catastrophe they were to hope or fear to the terrible game
of which they were the stake.
I grew impatient of remaining a motionless beholder of the shifting
spectacle; and not foreseeing when or how it would terminate, I
determined, towards the middle of March, to repair to Nismes, and pass
some weeks with my mother, whom I had not seen for a considerable time.
I have still before my eyes the aspect of Paris, particularly of the Rue
de Rivoli (then in progress of construction), as I passed along on the
morning of my departure. There were no workmen and no activity;
materials heaped together without being used, deserted scaffoldings,
buildings abandoned for want of money, hands, or confidence, and in
ruins before completion. Everywhere, amongst the people, a discontented
air of uneasy idleness, as if they were equally in want of labour and
repose. Throughout my journey, on the highways, in the towns, and in the
fields, I noticed the same appearance of inactivity and agitation, the
same visible impoverishment of the country; there were more women and
children than men, many young conscripts marching mournfully to their
battalions, sick and wounded soldiers returning to the interior; in
fact, a mutilated and exhausted nation. Side by side with this physical
suffering,
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