As mild as the moonbeam in autumn descending
That lightning, extinguished by mercy, shall fall,
While he hears, with the wail of a penitent blending,
Thy prayer, Holy Daughter of Vincent de Paul.
LXXXII.—WASHINGTON AND BONAPARTE COMPARED.
CHATEAUBRIAND.
1. If Washington and Bonaparte are compared, man with man, the genius of the first will seem to take a less lofty flight than that of the second. Washington belongs not, like Bonaparte, to the race of Alexanders and Cæsars, who surpassed the ordinary stature of the human race; he creates no sentiment of astonishment; he is not seen contending, on a vast theatre, for glory, with the greatest captains and most powerful monarchs of the earth, he traverses[579] no seas; he hurries not from Memphis to Vienna, from Cadiz to Moscow; his work is a simple one of defending himself, with a handful of citizens, within the narrow limits of domestic hearths, in a land without a past and without celebrity.
2. He gains none of those battles which renew the bloody triumphs of Arbela[580] and Pharsalia;[581] he puts not his foot upon the necks of kings; he does not say to them, waiting on the vestibule of his palace, how often you come! and how you weary Attila![582] A certain spirit of silence envelops the actions of Washington: slow caution marks them all. One would say that he had ever the sentiment of his great mission with him, and that he feared to compromise it by rashness.
3. His own personal destiny seems not to have entered into the calculations of this hero of a new species; the destinies of his country alone occupied him, and he did not permit himself to risk or gamble with what did not belong to him. But from this profound obscurity what light breaks forth! Seek through the unknown forests where the sword of Washington glittered, and what will you find there? Tombs? No! A world. Washington has left the United States as a trophy of his field of battle.
4. Bonaparte possessed no single trait of this great American. His wars were all waged on an ancient continent, environed[583] by splendor and stunning with noise. His object was personal glory: his individual destiny filled all his thoughts. He seems to have known that his mission would be short: that the torrent that fell from such a height would quickly expend its force. He hurried forward to enjoy and to abuse his glory, as if aware that it was a fugitive dream of youth. Like the gods of Homer, four steps must suffice him to reach the end of the world.