Paris February 10th 1817 Although the distance between our two countries is not very great, my dear lady, it seems greater because of the difficulties of a sure correspondence. Your letters took a long time to reach me. It is only today that I am able to reply to you through a young French merchant, Mr. Descaves, who is going to spend fifteen days in England. My friendship with him makes me wish that he might have the privilege of seeing you; but I do not expect he will, and I will try to have him send you his address, or present himself to Mr. Adams the day before his departure. Having taken care of this, I would have the happiness of hearing from you; and perhaps he will even be able to bring me the work that I am waiting for with the greatest impatience. I thank you doubly, my dear lady, and for your thoughtfulness in sending me the charming O'Donnel, and for the pleasure that it gave me. There is nothing more fascinating than the spirit of patriotism which animates your writings and which mixes without affectation with the superiority of your talents and with all charms of romantic invention. Your protagonists are admirable, and the others paint for us in a piquant manner, the current events of society on the two islands. There is not one down to Bran who has not interested me in recalling our conversations about the race that was lost in the Orient with the Royal dynasty of the Mulattoes, and which, without being altogether legitimate, can nevertheless probably be found again in Ireland. I was quite surprised when I wanted to procure one of these animals for myself to find blocking my path the spirit of monopoly, which already having restrained production, continues to monopolize the possession of this species. Our published papers and yours inform you somewhat about the state of our chambers and of the debates that divide our salons. The tardy liberality of the Ultras is not useless for propagating some of our old doctrines, in presenting them by this [2] tactic of circumstance, as axioms that nobody disputes anymore. On the other hand, ministers who still believe they see dangers for the throne in individual liberty and that of the press, have thought that since the charter disinherits from the right of election all who do not pay three hundred francs in taxes, that those one hundred thousand citizens to whom the right is extended should exercise it. They also thought it was prudent to restrain the counter-revolutionary movement and reactionary measures. Some independent deputies, some peers, vote with one or another party, according to whether they are drawn to our opinions. Three men, the story goes, were in a room. Six and six make fourteen, said one of them, that was the Ultra; that's an exaggeration, answered the other; as a matter of fact, observed the third man, six and six make twelve. There you are with your theories and your rigorousness replied the second man, who was ministerial. No sir, there should be a moderate line between your two opinions; six and six make thirteen. One can also define in a few words the current negotiations between the court of Rome and the Tuileries; how could you have made a Concordat with the usurper, says the king to the Pope - Sire, I looked for you everywhere and didn't find you anywhere - But you know well, replies the king, that with my legitimacy, wherever I am not, there I am - That is true, responds His Holiness, but from my side, with my infallibility, when I am wrong I am right. Among the very small number of independents who are included in the two chambers, four of my friends, Lanjuinais and Broglie (son-in-law of Madame de Stael), in the chamber of peers, D'Argenson and Lafitte in the chamber of deputies, stand out because of their very remarkable views. Madame de Stael is in Paris for another two months. She has confided to her friends that she is working on a political piece concerning her father and the Revolution, which will not appear before the end of the year. I am greatly honored that you trust me with the translation of [3] [844] your work; allow me to observe to you, without false modesty, that many experienced writers are better suited to this task than I. But it will be a pleasure for me to see the person with whom you will charge this work and offer him my observations, if there is an opportunity. Good Ginguene would have been a good match for you. His death forces me to look elsewhere. I spoke to Mr. Thurot, Professor of Greek Philosophy in the College of France, translator of Harris's General Grammar and of Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo dei Medici. He cannot take it in his own name, but will direct a lady who translated Harrison's On Taste and put her name on the translation. Her name is Miss Sobry. I do not know her personally, but she is close to the wife of one of my friends who is witty and of good nature, and with a very intimate friend of mine, who is probably one of the best judges we have in France. This is the best I have found up to now. At the moment, the correspondence of Franklin is being translated. If this translation makes you wish to contact Mr. Malo, who has just announced it, I can easily make the proposal to him. But I must wait for your answer, which you can give me at the end of the month. You ask me, my dear lady, for some details about the last moments of the political life of Napoleon. The departure of my friend hurries me. But I recall that two issues of the Morning Chronicle, which I do not have, treated this discussion with accuracy. I am asking Mr. Descaves to look for them in London. I should, nevertheless write a few words in response to your question. When Napoleon left for the island of Elba, for fourteen years he had been able to insure France's liberty and happiness within its natural boundaries. His ambition ruined everything. His hatred for liberal ideas manifested itself in all things, great and small. Only those who profited immediately by his administration missed him. The nation hoped that the reign of the Bourbons would be constitutional. Eight months were enough to freeze hopes and give birth to many fears. The king says [4] that after God it is to the reigning Prince that he owes the crown. The Count of Artois says to a deputation "Let us enjoy ourselves now, I will answer for the future". The Charter, far from being a contract, was merely an ordinance, incomplete, and badly executed. The Royalist nobles were far less benevolent, and more indiscrete than their masters. Napoleon seized the favorable moment, and came easily to Paris. The proclamation was patriotic; the nation, already put somewhat at ease by the gentler regime of the first restoration, returned without fuss to its rights. He let things alone without mending his ways. It was to obtain the support of the people and the consensus of the patriots that he consented to calling a large assembly, freely chosen by the electoral colleges, the composition of which, since his consulate, wasn't what it should have been. But there was no time to do better. This was the chamber of representatives. Two opinions were manifest there; one more confident in a large national movement than in the talent of Bonaparte; the other, placing its principal faith in the talents of the first general of Europe, who commands two hundred thousand fine soldiers, but who opposes two obstacles to the national movement: its own suspicions, and those of the people who had long looked upon him as an enemy of liberty. But twelve hundred thousand of the enemy was advancing and all patriotic opinion united in order to give to the head of the state, to the general, to the army, full support, all the means of victory in their power. All this, from the reunion of the assembly up until Waterloo, was a matter of a few days. After the loss of that battle, Bonaparte abandoned his army without rallying, without giving a single order. He came to Paris with the senseless purpose of dissolving the national representation and of usurping the dictatorship, which achieved the destruction of all means of confidence and of resistance, which could only lead to a catastrophe still more frightful. That was the opinion of his best friends. The chamber of deputies and the house of peers adopted some resolutions proposed by me on the 21st of June. The evening passed in secret committee with the whole chamber, with the ministers, and Lucien, brother of the emperor. A deputation of the two chambers met in the evening with the council of state. After having adopted all measures of defense and the public welfare, I proposed what had already been foreshadowed in the committee of the whole, namely, the abdication of the emperor. Mister Lanjuinais and Flangeigues supported me. The emperor did not attend. The next day the assembly [5] appeared anxious to obtain this abdication; the emperor sent it. The president, the vice-presidents, and the secretaries went to return thanks and at the same time to note the acceptance of the chamber. We found him once more surrounded by all the trappings of a dignity that he no longer possessed. His bearing was noble and simple. The chamber, not wishing to recognize the imperial regency named a provisional government, and chose among those men whose previous circumstances caused them to seem little disposed to negotiating with the court of Ghent on their own. The example of Fouché proved that was a error. I was one of the six envoys sent to the coalesced monarchs to negotiate an armistice. All that the partisans of the Bonaparte family were able to obtain was that all would refrain from objecting to the emperor and his brothers going to the young child who was in the hands of the allies. But there was not occasion to consider the interests of the dynasty, insomuch as the English ambassador, under the pretext that he lacked power, opposed opening negotiations and when we returned on the evening of July fifth, we found the capitulation signed without a battle. On the eighth we found the door closed; a large number of deputies met at my home, and we went to the president's, my friend Lanjuinais's house where we signed the declaration, which I am enclosing along with the beautiful manifesto of the evening of the fifth. This is a very long letter, my dear Lady: I beg Sir Charles to accept my thanks and my best wishes. My family and assures you of the gratitude and the attachment that we all have for you, to which I add my most affectionate regards. Lafayette