They were found in such a
situation as the Mexicans were, when they were attacked by the dogs, the
cavalry, the iron, and the gunpowder of an handful of bearded men, whom
they did not know to exist in Nature. This is a comparison that some, I
think, have made; and it is just. In France they had their enemies
within their houses. They were even in the bosoms of many of them. But
they had not sagacity to discern their savage character. They seemed
tame, and even caressing. They had nothing but _douce humanite_ in their
mouth. They could not bear the punishment of the mildest laws on the
greatest criminals. The slightest severity of justice made their flesh
creep. The very idea that war existed in the world disturbed their
repose. Military glory was no more, with them, than a splendid infamy.
Hardly would they hear of self-defence, which they reduced within such
bounds as to leave it no defence at all. All this while they meditated
the confiscations and massacres we have seen. Had any one told these
unfortunate noblemen and gentlemen how and by whom the grand fabric of
the French monarchy under which they flourished would be subverted, they
would not have pitied him as a visionary, but would have turned from him
as what they call a _mauvais plaisant_. Yet we have seen what has
happened. The persons who have suffered from the cannibal philosophy of
France are so like the Duke of Bedford, that nothing but his Grace's
probably not speaking quite so good French could enable us to find out
any difference.
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