France, on the edge of the volcano of civil war, had collected all her forces into a thunderbolt to launch upon Europe, and the world, astounded if not overwhelmed, was shrinking from the surge of the unchained torrent.

What man, what Frenchman, could have heard with indifference that echo of victory reverberating through millions of hearts?
"While scarcely leaving childhood, I felt that honor is more precious than life.

The warlike music of the drums brought to my eyes brave and manly tears.

'And I, too,' said I, following the music of the regiments through the streets of Toulouse, 'will pluck laurels though I sprinkle them with my blood.' The pale olive of peace had from me nothing but scorn.

The peaceful triumphs of the law, the calm pleasures of commerce and finance, were extolled in vain.