In other words, the Victorian Englishman did not understand the words “Emperor of the French.”  The type of title was deliberately chosen to express the idea of an elective and popular origin; as against such a phrase as “the German Emperor,” which expresses an almost transcendental tribal patriarchate, or such a phrase as “King of Prussia,” which suggests personal ownership of a whole territory.  To treat the Coup d’etat as unpardonable is to justify riot against despotism, but forbid any riot against aristocracy.  Yet the idea expressed in “The Emperor of the French” is not dead, but rather risen from the dead.  It is the idea that while a government may pretend to be a popular government, only a person can be really popular.  Indeed, the idea is still the crown of American democracy, as it was for a time the crown of French democracy.  The very powerful official who makes the choice of that great people for peace or war, might very well be called, not the President of the United States, but the President of the Americans.  In Italy we have seen the King and the mob prevail over the conservatism of the Parliament, and in Russia the new popular policy sacramentally symbolised by the Czar riding at the head of the new armies.  But in one place, at least, the actual form of words exists; and the actual form of words has been splendidly justified.  One man among the sons of men has been permitted to fulfil a courtly formula with awful and disastrous fidelity.  Political and geographical ruin have written one last royal title across the sky; the loss of palace and capital and territory have but isolated and made evident the people that has not been lost; not laws but the love of exiles, not soil but the souls of men, still make certain that five true words shall yet be written in the corrupt and fanciful chronicles of mankind:  “The King of the Belgians.”

It is a common phrase, recurring constantly in the real if rabid eloquence of Victor Hugo, that Napoleon III. was a mere ape of Napoleon I. That is, that he had, as the politician says, in “L’Aiglon,” “le petit chapeau, mais pas la tete”; that he was merely a bad imitation.  This is extravagantly exaggerative; and those who say it, moreover, often miss the two or three points of resemblance which really exist in the exaggeration.  One resemblance there certainly was.  In both Napoleons it has been suggested that the glory was not so great as it seemed; but in both it can be emphatically added that the eclipse was not so great as it seemed either.  Both succeeded at first and failed at last.  But both succeeded at last, even after the failure.  If at this moment we owe thanks to Napoleon Bonaparte for the armies of united France, we also owe some thanks to Louis Bonaparte for the armies of united Italy.  That great movement to a freer and more chivalrous Europe which we call to-day the Cause of the Allies, had its forerunners and first victories before our time; and it not only won at Arcola, but also at Solferino.  Men who remembered Louis Napoleon when he mooned about the Blessington salon, and was supposed to be almost mentally deficient, used to say he deceived Europe twice; once when he made men think him an imbecile, and once when he made them think him a statesman.  But he deceived them a third time; when he made them think he was dead; and had done nothing.