to afflict me." At other times he lamented his decay of energy. The bed, he said, was now a place of luxury, which he would not exchange for all the thrones in the universe. The eyes, which formerly were so vigilant, could now scarcely be opened. He recollected that he used to dictate to four or five secretaries at once. "But then," he said, "I was Napoleon-now I no longer live, I only exist." Often he remained silent for many hours, suffering, as may be supposed, much pain, and immersed in profound melancholy.

It will be seen by the account we have given, that the character of Napoleon presents many contradictions. In general, he was tyrannical, yet he often displayed instances of kindness and gentleness of feeling. He began as a republican, and ended as a despot. He affected to regard the rights of men, yet acted only for himself. He was educated as a Catholic, and died as a Catholic; yet in Egypt he professed Mohamedanism, and seems to have been deeply impressed with that faith. During his voyage from Egypt to France, he spent almost his whole time in reading the Koran and the Bible: apparently comparing the two. He was a violator of the most sacred laws, yet when his wife and mother had attempted to smuggle some valuable goods from Italy, which were seized at the custom-house, he refused to interfere, on the ground that the laws must be observed!

He was profuse in the expenditure of millions, yet sharp and severe in matters of mere pence. He was vexed at trifles, and calm amid the tempest of battle, or even the crushing downfall of his mighty

fortunes. He was usually cold and repulsive in his manners, yet he had powers of fascination, which gave him an irresistible hold on men's hearts. He was habitually harsh and insulting to women, yet he lived happily with his wives. He was incapable of friendship, yet he was the idol of the nation, and was loved as few men are loved by his officers. He poured out the blood of France like water, for his ambition, yet fathers and mothers gloried that their sons had died under his banner, and the nation mourned his exile, as if he were the very sun in the heavens suffering a long eclipse.

It might seem difficult, amid such inconsistencies, to select the ruling traits of Napoleon's character. It is easy to see, however, that ambition was the master passion, and that thing, which he called glory, his leading star. He was, in fact, selfish, in the worst sense of the word. He looked upon mankind as the tools and instruments by which he was to gratify his wishes; not as fellow-beings, claiming his sympathy, and having rights which must be the guides and limits of his actions. He truly loved no one; he had no perception of friendship, and if he had friends he made no return of the heart. Selfishness swallowed up everything. He sought the glory of France, only as a means of reflecting his own. He rewarded genius, because it could add rays of glory to his crown. He encouraged talent, that he might secure and use it. He promoted the arts, for he knew that they perpetuated in flattering forms and glowing hues the image of him who is munificent to the artist.

He was essentially a tyrant. When his sway was

acknowledged, like the gorged lion, he was pacific; if resisted, he was fierce and remorseless. He had no sense of right, which restrained his actions;' there was in his soul no God, whom he loved, reverenced, or feared, thus giving him a law above his will. His will was his only law; necessity the only limit of his ambition.

It is not, then, for his moral qualities, that we are to admire Bonaparte. He was not, morally, a great man. He had no magnanimity, no true greatness of soul. In dealing with other men, he was a giant; in dealing with himself, he was weak and contemptible. He could not conquer himself; he could not act in the light of God's image, above himself,-and in the view of a vast universe, acknowledging a universal law, exalted, inspired by a boundless benevolence. In soul, he was beneath the humblest Christian. In morals, in religious matters, his heart was eclipsed and his mind embarrassed. On these subjects he was weak and variable, and scarcely above an unenlightened heathen. The simple shepherd of Salisbury Plain, as depicted by Hannah More, was in these things a greater and a wiser man.

Of the amazing intellectual powers of Napoleon, however, there is no doubt. These are attested by his deeds. No other man has ever done so much, in the brief space of sixteen years. It was within this short period that he rose from obscurity to the greatest pitch of earthly power ever possessed by a human being. Within this space he conquered Egypt; by six successful campaigns, against the best troops and ablest generals of Germany, he made himself master of

Italy; thrice he humbled the most formidable powers of the continent, gaining a series of victories more brilliant than have been known in modern times; he hurled down dynasties, and established new ones; he annihilated thrones and erected others; he took away and gave away crowns as if they were playthings.

It was not in action alone that Napoleon's power was displayed. He conceived and brought into existence an entirely new system of military tactics. Even at the age of twenty-six, he had by the might of his genius overthrown the science which the united mind of man, from Alexander down, had brought into the art of war. The military art, as framed by the genius of ages, was set aside and forever repudiated, by a soldier, not yet thirty.

In diplomacy, Napoleon showed a superiority to all around him. No man of the time, even here, was his master-or his equal. In a circle where Talleyrand and Metternich, the greatest diplomatists of modern times, were actors, he was felt to be the ruling spirit, whom it was idle to oppose, and hopeless to deceive.

Though he was always engaged in war, he still found time to attend to other concerns. He paid minute attention to the financial affairs of the country, and even of his own establishment. He inspected accounts, examined public works, held counsel with artists, saw foreign ministers, and entered into every kind of detail. He planned and caused to be executed roads, bridges, forts, fountains, squares, palaces, libraries, statues, and hospitals-all that could enrich, improve or embellish his dominions. With an indus

try that never tired, an activity that kept all around him in a whirl, he attended himself to the details of these various works; while, at the same time, he was negotiating with princes and powers, fixing the boundaries of kingdoms, planning campaigns, and shaping out the destinies of two hundred millions of men!

Nor was this all: he was at the same time, day by day, month by month, fashioning the civil and criminal law of France; forming, in short, a code by which justice was to be administered throughout the land. Here, then, the soldier was closeted with lawyers, and here he was also the master. Every law, every paragraph was scanned by him, in these councils, and many of the best features of the "Code Napoleon," which is still the law of France, and an imperishable monument of the sagacity and wisdom of its founder, were of his suggestion.

Perhaps the powers of Napoleon were in no way more clearly evinced, than in the ascendancy he gained over mankind. All who came into his presence, felt his superiority; marshals, generals, ministers, peers, princes. It was not his history alone which impressed those who were around him. When he was exiled to Elba, Ney, one of his most gallant officers and able generals, gave his adhesion to the Bourbons. When Napoleon came back, Ney determined to oppose him: but the moment he was in the presence of the emperor, his knee irresistibly bent in homage to the spirit that seemed to rule all destinies.

Never was a man's power over a nation more severely tested than when Napoleon came back, de