End of the *. A whole European system crumbled away.
The Empire sank into a gloom which resembled that of the Roman world as it expired. Again we behold the abyss, as in the days of the barbarians; only the barbarism of 1815, which must be called by its pet name of the counter-revolution, was not long breathed, soon fell to panting, and halted short. The Empire was bewept,-- let us acknowledge the fact,--and bewept by heroic eyes. If glory lies in the sword converted into a sceptre, the Empire had been glory in person. It had diffused over the earth all the light which tyranny can give a sombre light. We will say more; an obscure light. Compared to the true daylight, it is night. This disappearance of night produces the effect of an eclipse.
Louis XVIII. re-entered Paris. The circling dances of the 8th of July effaced the enthusiasms of the 20th of March. The Corsican became the antithesis of the Bearnese. The flag on the dome of the Tuileries was white. The exile reigned. Hartwell's pine table took its place in front of the fleur-de-lys-strewn throne of Louis XIV. Bouvines and Fontenoy were mentioned as though they had taken place on the preceding day, Austerlitz having become antiquated. The altar and the throne fraternized majestically. One of the most undisputed forms of the health of society in the nineteenth century was established over France, and over the continent. Europe adopted the white cockade. Trestaillon was celebrated. The device non pluribus impar re-appeared on the stone rays representing a sun upon the front of the barracks on the Quai d'Orsay. Where there had been an Imperial Guard, there was now a red house. The Arc du Carrousel, all laden with badly borne victories, thrown out of its element among these novelties, a little ashamed, it may be, of Marengo and Arcola, extricated itself from its predicament with the statue of the Duc d'Angouleme. The cemetery of the Madeleine, a terrible pauper's grave in 1793, was covered with jasper and marble, since the bones of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette lay in that dust.
In the moat of Vincennes a sepulchral shaft sprang from the earth, recalling the fact that the Duc d'Enghien had perished in the very month when Napoleon was crowned. Pope Pius VII., who had performed the coronation very near this death, tranquilly bestowed his blessing on the fall as he had bestowed it on the elevation. At Schoenbrunn there was a little shadow, aged four, whom it was seditious to call the King of Rome. And these things took place, and the kings resumed their thrones, and the master of Europe was put in a cage, and the old regime became the new regime, and all the shadows and all the light of the earth changed place, because, on the afternoon of a certain summer's day, a shepherd said to a Prussian in the forest, "Go this way, and not that!"
This 1815 was a sort of lugubrious April. Ancient unhealthy and poisonous realities were covered with new appearances. A lie wedded 1789; the right divine was masked under a charter; fictions became constitutional; prejudices, superstitions and mental reservations, with Article 14 in the heart, were varnished over with liberalism. It was the serpent's change of skin.
Man had been rendered both greater and smaller by Napoleon. Under this reign of splendid matter, the ideal had received the strange name of ideology! It is a grave imprudence in a great man to turn the future into derision. The populace, however, that food for cannon which is so fond of the cannoneer, sought him with its glance. Where is he? What is he doing? "Napoleon is dead," said a passer-by to a veteran of Marengo and Waterloo. "He dead!" cried the soldier; "you don't know him." Imagination distrusted this man, even when overthrown. The depths of Europe were full of darkness after Waterloo. Something enormous remained long empty through Napoleon's disappearance.
The kings placed themselves in this void. Ancient Europe profited by it to undertake reforms. There was a Holy Alliance; Belle-Alliance, Beautiful Alliance, the fatal field of Waterloo had said in advance.
In presence and in face of that antique Europe reconstructed, the features of a new France were sketched out. The future, which the Emperor had rallied, made its entry. On its brow it bore the star, Liberty. The glowing eyes of all young generations were turned on it. Singular fact! people were, at one and the same time, in love with the future, Liberty, and the past, Napoleon. Defeat had rendered the vanquished greater. Bonaparte fallen seemed more lofty than Napoleon erect. Those who had triumphed were alarmed. England had him guarded by Hudson Lowe, and France had him watched by Montchenu. His folded arms became a source of uneasiness to thrones. Alexander called him "my sleeplessness." This terror was the result of the quantity of revolution which was contained in him. That is what explains and excuses Bonapartist liberalism. This phantom caused the old world to tremble. The kings reigned, but ill at their ease, with the rock of Saint Helena on the horizon.
While Napoleon was passing through the death struggle at Longwood, the sixty thousand men who had fallen on the field of Waterloo were quietly rotting, and something of their peace was shed abroad over the world. The Congress of Vienna made the treaties in 1815, and Europe called this the Restoration.
This is what Waterloo was.
But what matters it to the Infinite? all that tempest, all that cloud, that war, then that peace? All that darkness did not trouble for a moment the light of that immense Eye before which a grub skipping from one blade of grass to another equals the eagle soaring from belfry to belfry on the towers of Notre Dame.
*制度告终。欧洲一整套体系垮了。
帝国隐没在黑影中，有如垂死的罗马世界。黑暗再次出现，如同在蛮族时代。不过一八一五年的蛮族是反革命，我们应当把它这小名叫出来，那些反革命的气力小，一下子就精疲力尽，陡然停止了。我们应当承认，帝国受到人们的悼念，并且是慷慨激昂的悼念。假使武力建国是光荣的，那么帝国便是光荣的本身。凡是专制所能给予的光明，帝国都在世上普及了，那是一种暗淡的光。让我们说得更甚一点，是一种昏暗的光。
和白昼相比，那简直是黑夜。黑夜消失，却逢日蚀。
路易十八回到巴黎。七月八日的团圆舞冲淡了三月二十日的热狂。那科西嘉人和那贝亚恩人①，荣枯迥异。杜伊勒里宫圆顶上的旗子是白的。亡命之君重登王位。在路易十四的百合花宝座前，横着哈特韦尔的杉木桌。大家谈着布维纳②和丰特努瓦③，好象还是昨天的事，因为奥斯特里茨已经过时了。神座和王位交相辉映，亲如手足。十九世纪的一种最完整的社会保安制度在法国和大陆上建立起来了。欧洲采用了白色帽徽。特雷斯达荣④的声名大噪。“自强不息”那句箴言又在奥尔塞河沿营房大门墙上的太阳形拱石中出现了。凡是从前驻过羽林军的地方都有一所红房子。崇武门上堆满了胜利女神，它顶着那些新玩意儿，起了作客他乡之感，也许在回忆起马伦哥和阿尔科拉时有些惭愧，便安上了一个昂古莱姆公爵的塑像敷衍了事。马德兰公墓，九三年的义冢，原来凄凉满目，这时却铺满了大理石和碧云石，因为路易十六和玛丽－安东尼特的骸骨都在那土里。万塞纳坟场里也立了一块墓碑，使人回想起昂吉安公爵死在拿破仑加冕的那一个月。教皇庇护七世在昂吉安公爵死后不久祝福过加冕大典，现在他又安祥地祝贺拿破仑的倾覆，正如当初祝贺他的昌盛一样。在申布龙有个四岁的小眼中钉，谁称他做罗马王便逃不了叛逆罪。这些事当时是这样处理的，而且各国君王都登上了宝座，而且欧洲的霸主被关进了囚笼，而且旧制度又成了新制度，而且整个地球上的光明和黑暗互换了位置，因为在夏季的一个下午，有个牧人⑤在树林里曾对一个普鲁士人说：“请走这边，不要走那边！”
①贝亚恩人，指路易十八。贝亚恩，为波旁王朝之领地，一六二○年并入法国。贝亚恩人，专指亨利四世。因亨利四世是波旁王朝第一代国王，此处借指路易十八。
②布维纳（Bouvines），十三世纪，法国王室军队战胜德军于此。
③丰特努瓦（Fontenoy），十八世纪，法国王室军队战胜英军于此。
④特雷斯达荣（Trestaillon），制造白色恐怖的保王党人。
⑤指滑铁卢大战中比洛的向导。
一八一五是种阴沉的阳春天气。各种有害有毒的旧东西都蒙上了一层新的外衣。一七八九受到了诬蔑，神权戴上了宪章的假面具，小说也不离宪章，各种成见，各种迷信，各种言外之意，都念念不忘那第十四条，自诩为*主义。这是蛇的蜕皮而已。
人已被拿破仑变得伟大，同时也被他变得渺小了。理想在那物质昌明的时代得了一个奇怪的名称：空论。伟大人物的严重疏忽，便是对未来的嘲笑。人民，这如此热爱炮手的炮灰，却还睁着眼睛在寻找他。他在什么地方？他在干什么？“拿破仑已经死了。”有个过路人对一个曾参加马伦哥战役和滑铁卢战役的伤兵说。“他还会死！”那士兵喊道，“你应当也认识他吧！”想象已把那个被打垮了的人神化了。滑铁卢过后，欧洲实质上是昏天黑地。拿破仑的消失替欧洲带来了长时期的莫大空虚。
各国的君主填补了那种空虚。旧欧洲抓住机会把自己重新组织起来。出现了神圣同盟。佳盟早已在鬼使神差的滑铁卢战场上出现过了。
对着那个古老的、重新组织起来的欧洲，一个新法兰西的轮廓出现了。皇上嘲笑过的未来已经崭露头角。在它额上，有颗*的星。年青一代的热烈目光都注视着它。真是不可理解，他们既热爱未来的*，却又热爱过去的拿破仑。失败反把失败者变得更崇高了。倒了的波拿巴仿佛比立着的拿破仑还高大些。得胜的人害怕起来了。英国派了赫德森·洛去监视他，法国也派了蒙什尼去窥伺他。他那双叉在胸前的胳膊成了各国君王的隐忧。亚历山大称他为“我的梦魇”。那种恐怖是由他心中具有的那种革命力量引起的。波拿巴的信徒的*主义可以从这里得到说明和谅解。他的阴灵震撼着旧世界。各国的君主，身居统治地位而内心惴惴不安，因为圣赫勒拿岛的岩石出现在天边。
拿破仑在龙坞呻吟待毙，倒在滑铁卢战场上的那六万人也安然腐朽了，他们的那种静谧散布在人间。维也纳会议赖以订立了一八一五年的条约，欧洲叫它做王朝复辟。
这就是滑铁卢。
但那对悠悠宇宙又有什么关系？那一切风云，那样的战斗，又继以那种和平，那一切阴影，都丝毫不曾惊扰那只遍瞩一切的慧眼，在它看来，一只小蚜虫从这片叶子跳到那片叶子和一只鹰从圣母院的这个钟楼飞到那个钟楼之间，是并没有什么区别的。
