Virginia Argus

From the National Advocate.

France.--Scarcely ten months are elapsed since the triumphal entry of the Bourbons into Paris, until the world again witnesses their departure from the land of their ancestors, and the dignified return of the banished emperor to that throne which he had emblazoned with the trophies of an hundred victories, and who wielded a sceptre which, while it awed the world, most scrupulously preserved the pride and honor of the nation.

The present may well be termed the age of prodigies--the abdication of Bonaparte at the moment when the integrity of France was invaded by four powerful armies, and his banishment to that little island of Elba was not (however unexpected and astonishing) in any manner, to compare to his miraculous return to his capital, unsullied and spotless with the blood of a single subject.

There is something so splendidly great--so bold, and imposing in the features of this late occurrence, that the human mind can scarcely credit the existence of the fact, or combine reason with a circumstance so extraordinary. An isolated and banished monarch, with a few hundred retainers, granted him as the mockery of a court, invading his recent territories, containing thirty millions of souls, and armies of 200,000 men on foot, with a handful of 600 men, and marching, without any delay, to the capital over a tract of near 1000 miles, and taking peaceable & quiet possession, is of that miraculous stamp that credibility might well be staggered. In vain would ancient or modern history furnish a parallel--and even his most bitter enemies, who wished to see him in adversity that they might discover his weakness and his cowardice, must now admit that even difficulty, defeat and disgrace, have only clothed him with fresher honors, and elevated him beyond the limits of comparison.

To the mind of the reflecting and deep observer of events, his restoration to the imperial purple of France, was never considered otherwise than probable and natural--They reasoned, that the splendor of his reign would soon be tarnished and disgraced by the imbecility of age and prejudice in the persons of the Bourbons: and that the feelings of his former subjects would, in a few years recall him, with one voice, to preserve the honor and dignity of the nation. But, that this event should be accomplished in ten months--should have been the nurseling of his own mind, and reared and completed in the extraordinary manner it has been, was certainly beyond the conception of the most penetrating mortal. What will be the probable result of this unlooked for event, is a question deeply interesting to the civilized world, and not a little so to these United States.

Whether the scenes of devastation and death are again to be opened on the theatre of Europe, and whether new convulsions and the fresher horrors are again to distinguish the bloody drama of monarchs; or whether this momentous event is about to consolidate and settle jarring and conflicting interests, is an enquiry which will admit of much speculation. We are inclined to adopt the latter; and view the return of this surprising man, to protect the destinies of France, as the precursor of solid and lasting peace. To calculate on this event being produced by the restoration of the Bourbons and the old nobility, was to calculate on the amalgamation of oil and water, on the union of attraction and repulsion. Placing Europe out of the question, and the intrigues of England out of the sight, the very introduction of two orders of nobility in one nation--one rich, warlike and independent--the other poor, proud and imbecile, was a sufficient source of discord to set it in flames. No permanency was, therefore, attached to the Bourbon dynasty by any one, excepting the bosoms of Infated orators,

"Who talked of agonies they never felt,
And toasted sorrows, which they never knew."

As for the poor old king, he has reason to rejoice. He can nurse his gout and his infirmities in his former rural retreat--he can eat his ragouts without fear of arsenic or hellebore, and he can enjoy his otium cum dignitate, without being troubled with affairs of state, of which he knew nothing, and for which his incapacity would ever have made him a burden.

Much, however, with regard to the pacification of the world, rests in the hands of England. If she can protract her existence without conflagrations of neighboring nations, there is little doubt but that Bonaparte will meet her with sincerity. If this cannot be done according to the decision of her political machiavels, and the chasms which peace inflicted, must be cured by war, we shall find, according to the words of Mr. Morris, that the "long agony" is not yet completed, nor will it be until the people of that nation reform their rulers, and study political virtue instead of political intrigue and momentary aggrandizement.

On this subject we shall dilate in future papers, as soon as we can mature our reflections on an event so pregnant with either good or evil to the christian world.