“Two regiments of volunteers from the Faubourg St. Antoine, accompanied by a countless multitude, marched to the gates of the Elysée. A deputation waited upon the Emperor, stating that the traitorous Chamber of Deputies was about to sell France again to the Bourbons, and entreating him to take the reins of government into his own hands, as on the 18th Brumaire.” The Emperor replied, “You recall to my remembrance the 18th Brumaire, but you forget that the circumstances are not the same. On the 18th Brumaire the nation was unanimous in desiring a change. A feeble effort only was necessary to effect what they so much desired. Now it would require floods of French blood, and never shall a single drop be shed by me in defence of a cause purely personal. Putting the brute force of the mass of the people into action would doubtless save Paris and insure me the crown without incurring the horrors of civil war, but it would likewise be risking thousands of French lives. No! I like the regrets of France better than her crown.”
NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE BELLEROPHON.
And so Napoleon, sacrificing himself to save the lives of the French people, dictated his second act of abdication, and resigned himself with amazing calmness to this overwhelming disaster. But when he threw himself upon the generosity of England, she treacherously entrapped him on the Bellerophon, and afterwards conveyed him as a captive to the desolate island of St. Helena, where she set spies over him to torture and insult him, and gloated with demoniacal cruelty over the reports they gave of his sufferings.
But England, with all her cunning and her base treachery, could not imprison the matchless mind and soul of the great Napoleon. Though his body was chained to a dreary rock-prison, his genius was still the royal emperor of the world. His wondrous sayings at St. Helena have become the text-books for the students of all climes.
An English writer, who holds the position of a professor in the University at Cambridge, in a work lately published, thus gives to Napoleon his place in history: “There are times—and these are the most usual—when the most wonderful abilities would not have availed to raise any man from such a station as that in which Napoleon was born to the head of affairs. But the last years of the eighteenth century formed an exceptional period, in which such an ascent was not only possible in France, but was quite possible without very extraordinary abilities. That particular part of Napoleon’s career to which the Alexanders and Hannibals can show nothing parallel, is, in fact, just the part which, in that exceptional time, was within the reach of an ordinary man. Thus the miracle of Bonaparte’s rise to power lies not so much in his personality as in the time.”
What a pity that this English professor could not have happened to have lived when ordinary men might have become so great!
One great secret of Napoleon’s success was the union of two striking qualities which are not often found together. His imagination was as ardent, and his mind as impetuous, as the most rash warrior; at the same time his judgment was as cool and correct as the ablest tactician. “His mind moved with the rapidity of lightning, and yet with the precision and steadiness of naked reason.” This power of thinking quick and thinking right is one of the rarest and yet most important qualities to insure success. As a military leader he has no superior in ancient or modern times. Instead of following what was then considered the scientific mode of warfare, he fell back upon his own genius, and originated tactics which filled his foes with horrified surprise. His power of combination was unequalled; his mind seemed vast enough for the management of the globe. And yet so perfect was the system and arrangement of his plans and thoughts that the slightest detail was never overlooked. His bravery amounted to rashness where his own life was concerned. He feared neither shot nor shell, and carelessly exposed himself whenever he thought his presence was needed, replying to his soldiers, who often besought him not to risk his life so recklessly, “Courage! the bullet that is to kill me is not yet cast.”
As a thinker and statesman, Napoleon was as remarkable as he was as a politician and general. His genius was universal. Had he not been a Napoleon, he might have been a Shakespeare or a Bacon. He condensed a volume into a sentence; his words were as keen as the blade of a Damascus sword, and as freighted with ominous meaning as the tides of the ocean. He knew men; he knew books; he knew nature. In twenty-five lessons Napoleon became so familiar with the English language that he could read any English book without difficulty.
Another remarkable trait in Napoleon was his self-sufficiency. That self-confidence, which in smaller men would have been mad folly, was in him the most far-seeing wisdom. He needed no opinions of other men to govern his actions. He was sufficient unto himself. He took counsel only of his own genius and reason and marvellous intuitions.