Correspondence Conversations of Alexis de Tocqueville with Nassau William Senior from 1834 to | Page 5

Tocqueville, 'he will wish to remain at peace
with England.'
'I am not sure at all of that,' said Tocqueville. 'He cannot sit down a
mere quiet administrator. He must do something to distract public
attention; he must give us a substitute for the political excitement
which has amused us during the last forty years. Great social
improvements are uncertain, difficult, and slow; but glory may be
obtained in a week. A war with England, at its beginning, is always
popular. How many thousand volunteers would he have for a "pointe"
on London?
'The best that can happen to you is to be excluded from the councils of
the great family of despots. Besides, what is to be done to amuse these
400,000 bayonets, his masters as well as ours? Crosses, promotions,
honours, gratuities, are already showered on the army of Paris. It has
already received a thing unheard of in our history--the honours and
recompenses of a campaign for the butchery on the Boulevards. Will
not the other armies demand their share of work and reward? As long
as the civil war in the Provinces lasts they may be employed there. But

it will soon be over. What is then to be done with them? Are they to be
marched on Switzerland, or on Piedmont, or on Belgium? And will
England quietly look on?'
Our conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the Abbé
Gioberti, and of Sieur Capponi, a Sicilian.
_Paris, December_ 31, 1851.--I dined with the Tocquevilles and met
Mrs. Grote, Rivet, and Corcelle.
'The gayest time,' said Tocqueville, 'that I ever passed was in the Quai
d'Orsay. The _élite_ of France in education, in birth, and in talents,
particularly in the talents of society, was collected within the walls of
that barrack.
'A long struggle was over, in which our part had not been timidly
played; we had done our duty, we had gone through some perils, and
we had some to encounter, and we were all in the high spirits which
excitement and dangers shared with others, when not too formidable,
create. From the courtyard in which we had been penned for a couple
of hours, where the Duc de Broglie and I tore our chicken with our
hands and teeth, we were transferred to a long sort of gallery, or garret,
running along through the higher part of the building, a spare dormitory
for the soldiers when the better rooms are filled. Those who chose to
take the trouble went below, hired palliasses from the soldiers, and
carried them up for themselves. I was too idle and lay on the floor in
my cloak. Instead of sleeping we spent the night in shooting from
palliasse to palliasse anecdotes, repartees, jokes, and pleasantries.
"C'était un feu roulant, une pluie de bons mots." Things amused us in
that state of excitement which sound flat when repeated.
'I remember Kerrel, a man of great humour, exciting shouts of laughter
by exclaiming, with great solemnity, as he looked round on the floor,
strewed with mattresses and statesmen, and lighted by a couple of
tallow candles, "Voilà donc où en est réduit ce fameux parti de l'ordre."
Those who were kept _au secret_, deprived of mutual support, were in
a very different state of mind; some were depressed, others were
enraged. Bédeau was left alone for twenty-four hours; at last a man
came and offered him some sugar. He flew at his throat and the poor
turnkey ran off, fancying his prisoner was mad.'
We talked of Louis Napoleon's devotion to the Pope.
'It is of recent date,' said Corcelle. 'In January and February 1849 he

was inclined to interfere in support of the Roman Republic against the
Austrians. And when in April he resolved to move on Rome, it was not
out of any love for the Pope. In fact, the Pope did not then wish for us.
He told Corcelle that he hoped to be restored by General Zucchi, who
commanded a body of Roman troops in the neighbourhood of Bologna.
No one at that time believed the Republican party in Rome to be
capable of a serious defence. Probably they would not have made one if
they had not admitted Garibaldi and his band two days before we
appeared before their gates.'
I mentioned to Tocqueville Beaumont's opinion that France will again
become a republic.
'I will not venture,' he answered, 'to affirm, with respect to any form
whatever of government, that we shall never adopt it; but I own that I
see no prospect of a French republic within any assignable period. We
are, indeed, less opposed to a republic now than we were in 1848. We
have found that it does not imply war, or bankruptcy, or tyranny; but
we still feel that it is