while the mind itself is in the sick condition I have alluded to. Think of the return to business, after partially recovering from the reaction of a spell of intemperance-the tangled condition of affairs, the neglected accumulation of work, the feeling of despondency, and entire inability to take up the end of the chain where you dropped it, the cold chill that runs down your backbone as the attempt is made, the shaking hand, the hateful feeling of self-disgrace; and the remedy, and the poison, next door!

Here, there is no such remedy, and no such malarious atmosphere while your real cure is daily progressing; and here, you will find the difference in the result to that of all previous efforts.

If your cure be not real up here, and you again fall, after the remedial treatment that I have sketched out has been pursued to its apparent end, what then? Is there no hope? Is there no hope for those who fall again and again? I answer there is hope just so long as the will to reform lasts, and no longer. So long as the will to practice the remedial course is present, the power to exercise the will may be stimulated and cultivated, and the same course is always at your disposal. Only remember that each time you fall now you get weaker and feebler! you are not like Antæus; Earth is not your Mother. And each time you are felled by this thing you are more soiled and damaged by it, and more unfitted for a higher sphere of manhood. But you must not allow yourself to think of the possibility of such a degradation in the future. Here, in this little chamber, perhaps for the first time in your life, you are to be alone with yourself, to make an intimate friend of your own individual manhood, undisguised, as it really exists; and, what do you find? Thoughts, intelligence, knowledge, wishes, cravings! Is this me? It is new, strange, wonderful to contemplate! And this bodily personality, has it the power to control, to fashion, to exhibit, to demonstrate this me; and,-oh, horror of horrors! -to desolate and destroy and consume

it all? Oh, wonderful perfection of the beauty that might have been, that may be! Oh, sublime combination of ideas and wishes! Oh, ecstacy and wonder of self-observation! God in heaven, let me never lose sight of myself again! Why did I never know that I had such an inmate in my body before? This room shall never be desolate to me with this companion. Physical suffering and infirmity need not interfere with this; the sense of its possession is its own enjoyment. Time shall not hang heavily, for I can always retire to my newly found friend. My heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth, my flesh, also, shall rest in hope."

I do not know that this feeling will come to you at first, it did not so come to me; it gradually stole over my mind as, step by step, I sought an undisguised acquaintance with myself. Perhaps you have arrived at this intimacy before, but I think not. Perhaps this feeling will not come to you at all. To me it seems to present a motive that I have lacked in my past experience, and to throw a different light upon my life. I can see now that there has been a conflict going on in me all the time, between my spiritual nature, which is me, and my physical nature, which contains and demonstrates me; and that I have ministered to my physical body, so that I was gradually lapsing into the condition of a mere animal. Ecstatic thoughts, that would occasionally present themselves, would seem to ally themselves to a desire for physical stimulants for cooperation, and would then die an unnatural death, and leave me nothing but the animal enjoyment. Now these thoughts are present to a perfect and overwhelming extent, without the aid of stimulants, in a somewhat prostrated condition of body, and there is no desire for any artificial stimulants; on the contrary, there is an absolute loathing to connect that with them, either as a motor, or encourager. Certainly, this is a point where I have gone wrong before.

The thoughts that come to your mind will not, however, always be of a very

pleasant character; but they must be met and followed out to the end whence they tend; such are those thoughts that lead you to the fact of the humiliating position you hold, in having made it desirable for you to occupy this room. This you must accept as one of your penalties, giving it its proper weight in your mind, and no more. The expression of want of confidence in you by your friends, and their manifestation of it in what may seem an abrupt and unkind mannerthe absence of attention to you on their part by not writing to you so frequently as you expect, and a thousand other minor things, are all to act as penalties. Don't be a coward, don't be discouraged; you know you are right now, and not fearing any humiliation yourself, take all of it on yourself, and try to ward off any, even the very least, reflection of it upon others who do not deserve it.

There is one great lack in life here that will manifest itself to you very soon after taking up your residence, and that is regular occupation. If you can remedy that by bringing some employment from the city that can occupy your time, you will be much benefitted thereby. Mere amusement or patient idleness is very demoralizing. I do not think that you will want to stay longer than three months; but the wishes of one's friends should be seriously regarded on this matter; at the same time, it is not well to remain when the doing so becomes irksome.

And now, in conclusion, I may be asked, what is your rule for the future? Do you intend to practice "total abstinence?" I answer, I do not intend to make the practice of "total abstinence" the security on which I shall depend in my future life. There are many reasons

I am aware that here I lay myself open to be misunderstood, and I do not know that I can render my meaning more clear by saying any thing further on the matter. What I want to convey is, that I do not regard the practice of total abstinence to be the reliance upon which I depend. I can foresee circumstances in which the enforcement of that practice might render me unpleasant and objectionable in future social relations; and I have no wish to be turned into a disagreeable pillar of

why total abstinence should be expedient for a once intemperate man; and a notable one is that it makes it manifest to others, that his abandonment of drinking is real; another may be the sense of security that it gives to his friends, to whom he owes all the reparation that lies in his power; but I am opposed to magnifying the importance of the practice itself as the only salvation for him who has once been an inebriate, as there is danger in placing exclusive confidence in it. Of course, it is a self-evident fact, that if a man does not drink he cannot get drunk; but I do not see the same evidence in the postulate that "if a man who has once been intemperate again drinks at all, he must drink to excess." The latter is entirely a compound of moral weakness, which weakens. It is to be our effort to remedy, not succumb to the evil.

I do not like that superstitious awe of what is termed the "first glass;" it does not seem to me to be a healthy symptom. The act of drinking must not be confounded with the crime of getting drunk. I have known men who, reforming from drinking, clung to this idea as their security, who are now in a ten times worse state than they were; and I know men who show that they are thoroughly reformed, who yet drink moderately of both beer, wine and spirits. For myself, if I practise total abstinence, it will be because I fear the effect of stimulants upon a growing tendency to vertigo, for the same reason that I would not drink a glass of iced water rapidly when in a very heated state; and you, my reader, you must judge in this matter for yourself. If

salt, obnoxious to myself and distasteful to my friends.

I sincerely wish to turn my back on the Cities of the Plain, and walk henceforth with the Abrahams of the world to seek a better and nobler resting-place; and in doing so, I hope, with them, to take the goods the gods provide for me on my journey. Amusement and cheerfulness must be cultivated, as well as the sterner moralities, and my future life must not be one continual moan over past errors; but if in this thing of drinking I cannot exercise moderation, then better, far better, will it be to exercise the most scrupulous abstinence than again to sink into excesses, and, as I feel now, that will be done, if my weakness be such that I cannot exercise moderation.

In itself considered, and taken alone, the expulsion (i. e., of Messrs. Ribeyrolles, Pianciani, and Thomas), so far, did not fulfil the purpose of M. Bonaparte.* What he needed was not merely the sending away of three of the proscribed. He wanted to crush entirely the nucleus of the body of exiles in Jersey.

The driving out of the island of the citizens Ribeyrolles, Pianciani, and Thomas left a void, and an irreparable one, in that number of the exiles who were active in the cause, but did not by any means annihilate it, and did not even occasion the discontinuance of their journal. Subsequent events have shown that the editors and publishers of L'Homme could continue its weekly publication, while themselves residing elsewhere. M. Ribeyrolles, after his departure, sent over from Guernsey an article which was printed in the very next number of L'Homme. And there were devoted friends enough left in the island to do the work of the paper. The printing went on, the office continued open, and the paper appeared regularly. Thus the expulsion had not accomplished its purpose.

But M. Bonaparte had calculated all

Note by Translator. M. Charles Hugo, with unfailing pertinacity, invariably and scrupulously applies to Louis Napoleon the invidious designation of "Monsieur Bonaparte."

his consequences. He knew the unity and sympathy of the Republican party, and that to strike three of the proscribed was to strike all of them. He knew that a partial expulsion, even a single isolated case, would be taken up by their whole community, and that, in such a case as the present especially, in view of such an enormous act of violence, the exiles in Jersey, who had so resolutely seized every opportunity for speaking out, could not do so on the present occasion without incurring a legal forfeiture in the view of France and of the Empire. The consequences of the step had been maturely considered, also, by the Anglo-French Government.*

Only two alternatives were possible. Either the proscribed would protest, and thus put themselves within the power of the Government, or they would submit, and thus surrender their principles. Either of these results would be satisfactory to M. Bonaparte.

[After consultation, the exiles decided to answer this blow historically, by public protest, rather than legally, by proceedings in the English courts. The three exiles accordingly departed on

Wednesday, Oct. 16th, and next morning the following declaration, drafted by M. Victor Hugo, was adopted :]

DECLARATION.

Three of the proscribed,-Ribeyrolles, the fearless and eloquent writer, Pianciani, the generous representative of the Roman people, and Thomas, the brave prisoner of Mont St. Michel,-have been expelled from Jersey.

This is a serious matter. Who appears on the surface of it? The English Government. Who is at the bottom of it? The French police. It is the hand of Fouché in the glove of Castlereagh. The coup d'état has made a lodgment within the liberties of England. England has advanced to the point of proscribing the proscribed. One step more, and England will become an appendix to the French Empire; Jersey, a canton of the arrondissement of Coutances.

At this present writing, our friends have gone; the act of expulsion has been perfected. It is for future times to describe this deed. We confine ourselves to the making it known. We merely take a legal acknowledgment of it.

Leaving the violation of law out of the question, the mere violence offered to our persons would only cause a smile. The French revolution is assured. The French Republic is synonymous with Right. The future is inevitable. Compared with these facts, what do other considerations signify? What, for instance, is really this expulsion? One more jewel on the brow of exile-one more rent in our country's flag.

But we must avoid the possibility of being misunderstood.

Government of England, hear what we, the proscribed Frenchmen, say to you: M. Bonaparte, your "powerful and cordial ally," has, in fact, no legal status except that of a person under indictment and waiting trial for high treason. For four years, he has been legally holden to answer to a writ of summons signed by Hardouin, President of the High Court of Justice, De la Palme, Pataille, Moreau (de la Seine,) and Cauchy, Judges; and countersigned Renouard, Procureur-général.*

M. Bonaparte took an oath as an officer of the Republic, and perjured himself.

M. Bonaparte swore fidelity to the Constitution, and has destroyed the Constitution.

M. Bonaparte, to whom all the laws were confided, has violated all the laws.

* DECREE: In virtue of Article 68 of the Constitution, the High Court of Justice declares Louis Napoleon Bonaparte indicted for the crime of High Treason; convokes the National Jury, in order to proceed at once to trial; and charges the counsellor Renouard with the functions of Public Minister near the High Court. Done at Paris, December 2, 1851.

(Signed) HARDOUIN, &C., &c.

M. Bonaparte has imprisoned the representatives of the people, who are by law inviolable, and has banished the judges.

M. Bonaparte, in order to avoid answering the summons of the High Court, has done as a malefactor does in fighting the police he has committed murder.

M. Bonaparte has killed with the sword, has exterminated and massacred with grapeshot by day, and has killed with musket-shot by night.

M. Bonaparte has guillotined Cuisinier, Cirasse and Charlet, for having offered to assist in serving the mandate of the Court by force. M. Bonaparte has suborned soldiers, suborned civil officials, suborned magistrates.

M. Bonaparte has stolen the property of Louis Philippe, who gave him his life.

M. Bonaparte has sequestrated, pillaged, confiscated. He has terrorized consciences and ruined families.

M. Bonaparte has proscribed, banished, driven out, expelled, transported to Africa, transported to Cayenne, transported into exile, forty thousand citizens, among whom are those who sign this declaration.

High treason, false swearing, violation of oaths, subornation of officials, unlawful banishment, spoliation, theft, murder-all these are statutory crimes by all codes, among all nations. They are punishable in England by death on the scaffold; and are punishable in France, although the Republic abolished the penalties of death and of the galleys. The Cour d'Assizes is still waiting for M. Bonaparte. What cotemporary history says to him to-day is this: "Prisoner, stand up." The hangman of the French people, the ally of the English Government, is one and the same Crime-Emperor.

Such is our address to you, Government of England. It is what we said yesterday, and the whole body of the English Press with us. It is what we shall say to-morrow, and posterity will unanimously join us in saying it. It is what we shall say forever-we who have but one soul, the truth; and but one word, justice. And now, expel us too! JERSEY, October 17th, 1855.

This declaration was placed in the printing-office, and during the day was signed by the twenty-seven exiles, whose names follow:

Victor Hugo, J. Cahaigne, Fulbert Martin, advocate; Col. Sandor Teleki, E. Beauvais, Bonnet-Duverdier, Kesler, Arsène Hayes, Albert Barbieux, Boumilhac, advocate, A. C. Wiesener, ex-officer in the Austrian service, Gornet senior, Charles Hugo, J. B. Amiel (of l'Ariège), Francois-Victor Hugo, E. Talery, Theophile Guérin, François Zychon, B. Colin,