their ancient privileges. Possibly many of them would have been quite ready to give them up immediately afterwards, to renounce them a second time as on the memorable 4th of August. But the restitution of these privileges seemed to them an act of strict justice, of mere equity which it was manifestly impossible that the King should refuse them. No wonder if the first acts of the royal Government overwhelmed these poor souls with amazement and dismay.
The two French nations, who after a separation of five-and-twenty years still entertained a lively hatred for each other, could not conceive that any one could dream of trying to conciliate their interests in the face of their respective pasts. Between them, however, there stood a third France, by far the largest of the three, for whose repose that conciliation was imperatively called for. This France was destined to be misunderstood during the greater part of the century, to see her dearest wishes set at naught. The Hundred Days, the Revolutions of 1830 and 1848 were to be brought about without her consent, even against her will. It was she who later on was to throw herself into the arms of Louis Napoleon, later
