Chapter XVII: Part 17

“Jesus borrowed nothing from our sciences. His religion is a revelation from an intelligence which certainly is not that of man. One can absolutely find nowhere, but in him alone, the imitation or the example of his life. He is not a philosopher, since he advances by miracles, and from the first his disciples worshipped him. He persuades them far more by an appeal to the heart, than by any display of method and of logic. Neither did he impose upon them any preliminary studies or any knowledge of letters. All his religion consists in _believing_. In fact, the sciences and philosophy avail nothing for salvation. He has nothing to do but with the soul, and to that alone he brings his Gospel. The soul is sufficient for him, as he is sufficient for the soul. I search in vain in history to find a parallel to Jesus Christ, or anything which can approach the Gospel. Neither history, nor humanity, nor the ages, nor nature, can offer me anything with which I am able to compare it or explain it. The more I consider the Gospel, the more I am assured that there is nothing there which is not beyond the march of events, and above the human mind.

“You speak of Cæsar, of Alexander, of their conquests, and of the enthusiasm they enkindled in the hearts of their soldiers; but can you conceive of a dead man making conquests with an army faithful and entirely devoted to his memory? My armies have forgotten me, even while living, as the Carthaginian army forgot Hannibal. Such is our power! A single battle lost crushes us, and adversity scatters our friends.

“Can you conceive of Cæsar, the eternal emperor of the Roman Senate, from the depths of his mausoleum governing the empire, watching over the destinies of Rome? Such is the history of the invasion and conquest of the world by Christianity. Such is the power of the God of the Christians, and such is the perpetual miracle of the progress of the faith and of the government of his Church. Nations pass away, thrones crumble, but the Church remains. In every other existence but that of Christ, how many imperfections! From the first day to the last he is the same, always the same, majestic and simple, infinitely firm and infinitely gentle. Christ proved that he was the Son of the Eternal by his disregard of time. All his doctrines signify one and the same thing,—_Eternity_.

“The Gospel is not a book; it is a living being, with an action, a power which invades everything that opposes its extension. Behold it upon this table, this Book surpassing all others” (here he solemnly placed his hand upon it); “I never omit to read it, and every day with the same pleasure. Nowhere is to be found such a series of beautiful ideas, admirable moral maxims, which defile like the battalions of a celestial army, and which produce in our soul the same emotion which one experiences in contemplating the infinite expanse of the skies, resplendent in a summer’s night with all the brilliance of the stars. Not only is our mind absorbed; it is controlled, and the soul can never go astray with this Book for its guide. Once master of our spirit, the faithful Gospel loves us. God even is our Friend, our Father, and truly our God.

“What a proof of the divinity of Christ! With an empire so absolute, he has but one single end,—the spiritual amelioration of individuals, the purity of conscience, the union to that which is true, the holiness of the soul. So that Christ’s greatest miracle undoubtedly is the reign of charity.

“Behold the destiny near at hand of him who has been called the great Napoleon! What an abyss between my deep misery and the eternal reign of Christ, which is proclaimed, loved, adored, and which is extending over all the earth. Is this to die? Is it not rather to live? The death of Christ! It is the death of God.” Turning to General Bertrand, “If you do not perceive that Jesus Christ is God, very well; then I did wrong to make you a general.” At length came the last, though to Napoleon most welcome, summons. A few days before his death, he awoke one morning, saying, “I have just seen my good Josephine, but she would not embrace me. She disappeared at the moment when I was about to take her in my arms. She was seated there. It seemed to me that I had seen her yesterday evening. She is not changed. She is still the same, full of devotion to me. She told me that we were about to see each other again, never more to part.”

The disease progressed rapidly, and the dying hour drew near. It was the month of May, 1821. A violent storm raged with wild fury on that rocky prison-isle, as the spirit of the great Napoleon was freeing itself from its earthly fetters. His few faithful friends who shared his exile, stood weeping around his couch. In the solemn silence of that sacred hour his loved voice was once more faintly heard: “_France! Army! Head of the Army! Josephine!_” and the heart of Napoleon I. ceased to beat. “_Isle of Elba! Napoleon!_” had been the last words of the loving and forgiving Josephine. “France! the Army! Josephine!” were the last images which lingered in the heart, and the last words which trembled on the lips of the dying emperor.

“When the prejudice, and falsehood, and hatred of his enemies shall disappear, and the world can gaze impartially on this plebeian soldier, rising to the throne of an empire, measuring his single intellect with the proudest kings of Europe, and coming off victorious from the encounter, rising above the prejudices and follies of his age, ‘making kings of plebeians, and plebeians of kings,’ grasping, as by intuition, all military and political science, expending with equal facility his vast energies on war or peace, turning with the same profound thought from fierce battles to commerce, and trade, and finances; when the world can calmly thus contemplate him, his amazing genius will receive that homage which envy and ignorance and hatred now withhold.

“And when the intelligent philanthropist shall understand the political and civil history of Europe, and see how Napoleon broke up its systems of oppression and feudalism, proclaiming human rights in the ears of the world, till the continent shook with the rising murmurs of oppressed man; study well the changes he introduced, without which human progress must have ceased; see the great public works he established, the institutions he founded, the laws he proclaimed, and the civil liberty he restored; and then, remembering that the bloody wars that offset all these were waged by him in self-defence, and were equal rights struggling against exclusive despotism, he will regret that he has adopted the slanders of his foemen and the falsehoods of monarchists.”

Alexander’s conquests were only for selfish glory; he cared not for his people, and little for his soldiers. Cæsar’s triumphs were for his own personal honor and power. The wars of Frederick the Great were nearly all unjust and aggressive, and he openly asserted his selfish ambition. But Napoleon, equalling them all in the brilliancy of his conquests, stands so far above them, as the idol of his people and his soldiers, as a man of incorruptible character, in the midst of temptations as great as any which have beset mortal men, as an intellectual genius, with a mind so phenomenal as to make him almost a miracle in far-seeing intuitions and marvellous accomplishment,—that he must be acknowledged, not only as the most famous of all the rulers of the world, but as the greatest uninspired man that ever lived. The history of most men terminates with the grave. But Napoleon’s story ended not with his lonely death upon the dreary Isle of St. Helena. Each year his memory was growing brighter. Each year the French people realized more and more the irreparable loss they had sustained. The heart-melting story of his hardships at St. Helena was told over and over again in his beloved France, till at last the nation rose as one man to do his memory honor. Just twenty-five years from the time when Napoleon was landed a captive upon the Island of St. Helena, his sacred remains were brought from their humble resting-place upon that rocky isle, and placed in the magnificent mausoleum prepared for them in the Church of the Invalides. On the anniversary of the great victory of Austerlitz, the two funeral frigates entered the harbor of Cherbourg. Three ships of war, the _Austerlitz_, the _Friedland_, and the _Tilsit_, immediately encircled the ship which bore the sacred remains. All the forts, batteries, and warships fired a salute. All France flocked to the cities and villages through which the funeral cortège was to pass.

At four o’clock, on the afternoon of the 14th of December, 1840, the flotilla arrived at Courbevoie, a small village four miles from Paris. Here the remains were to be transferred from the steamer to the shore. As the funeral barge sailed up the Seine, a colossal statue of Josephine, which had been erected on the shore, offered an appropriate and fitting welcome. Her fair form and face seemed to greet the return of her idolized husband. Maria Louisa, the daughter of the Cæsars, was then living ingloriously at Parma. No one thought of her. But at last Josephine and Napoleon were united together in sacred memories on earth, as their spirits had already been reunited in heaven.

“A Grecian temple one hundred feet high was constructed at the termination of the wharf, under which the body was to lie in state until transferred to the funeral car. Here Sergeant Hubert, who for nineteen years had kept watch at the solitary grave of Napoleon at St. Helena, landed. All the generals gathered around him, and he was welcomed by the people with deep emotion. The imperial funeral car was composed of five distinct parts, the basement, the pedestal, the Caryatides, the shield, and the cenotaph. The basement rested on four massive gilt wheels. It was profusely adorned with rich ornaments which were covered with frosted gold. Upon this basement stood groups of cherubs, seven feet high, supporting a pedestal eighteen feet long, covered with burnished gold. This pedestal was hung with purple velvet embroidered with gold. Upon it stood fourteen Caryatides, antique figures larger than life, and entirely covered with gold, supporting with their heads and hands an immense shield of solid gold. This shield was of oval form, and eighteen feet in length, and was richly decorated. Upon the top of this shield, nearly fifty feet from the ground, was placed the cenotaph, an exact copy of Napoleon’s coffin. It was slightly veiled with purple crape embroidered with golden bees. On the cenotaph, upon a velvet cushion, were placed the sceptre, the sword of justice, the imperial crown, in gold and embellished with precious stones.

“The Church of the Invalides had been magnificently adorned for the solemn ceremony. Thirty-six thousand spectators were seated upon immense platforms on the esplanade of the Invalides. Six thousand spectators thronged the seats of the spacious portico. In the interior of the church were assembled the clergy, the members of the Chambers of Deputies and of Peers, and all the members of the royal family and other distinguished personages from France and Europe.

“As the coffin, preceded by the Prince de Joinville, was borne along the nave upon the shoulders of thirty-two of Napoleon’s Old Guard, all rose and bowed in homage to the mighty dead.” Louis Philippe, surrounded by the great officers of state, then stepped forward to receive the remains.

“Sire,” said the prince, “I present to you the body of the Emperor Napoleon.”

“I receive it,” replied the king, “in the name of France.” Then taking from the hand of Marshal Soult the sword of Napoleon, and presenting it to General Bertrand, he said, “General, I charge you to place this glorious sword of the Emperor upon his coffin.”

Beneath the lofty dome of the church, where the massive tomb of Napoleon has since been erected, a magnificent cenotaph in the form of a temple had been reared. Within this richly decorated catafalque the coffin of Napoleon was reverently and solemnly placed, thus fulfilling the last wish of the Emperor, expressed in these memorable words, “It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people whom I have loved so well.”

“He who united in himself alone the glory of Alexander, of Cæsar, of Charlemagne, and of Louis XIV., took his place in the Invalides, which, during his life, he had marked as the place of heroes.” His devoted Generals Bertrand and Duroc now lie beside him. A few aged veterans of the Old Guard still watch over him. The sunlight, softened by the rich tints of the costly windows, falls lovingly upon his tomb, and his cherished memory lives in the hearts of his beloved people, growing more beautiful, more triumphantly venerated, and sacredly respected with each passing year. As his faithful veterans cast their crowns of flowers at the foot of his coffin, with trembling voices they lovingly though mournfully cried, “_Vive l’Empereur!_” and this loved Emperor still lives in the hearts of his people, royally enshrined in a nation’s undying love.

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Transcriber’s Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Warenne, Earl of Surrey, was spelled both as Warren and Warrene throughout the text. This was retained. Varied hyphenation retained as printed.

Page xi, “Kremlin” changed to “Krémlin” (The Krémlin of Moscow)

Page 15, “Aphrodite” changed to “Aphrodité” (mother, Aphrodité, caught him)

Page 80, “enthusiam” changed to “enthusiasm” (enthusiasm of Alexander’s)

Page 157, “guantlets” changed to “gauntlets” (garnished with gauntlets)

Page 160, “Debonnaire” changed to “Débonnaire” (called Louis le Débonnaire)

Page 163, “Debonnaire” changed to “Débonnaire” (his son Louis le Débonnaire)

Page 272, “seige” changed to “siege” (and commenced its siege)

Page 279, “cortége” changed to “cortège” (brilliant _cortège_ glittering)

Page 372, illustration caption, “KREMLIN” changed to “KRÉMLIN” (THE KRÉMLIN OF MOSCOW)

Page 441, “endeavord” changed to “endeavored” (enemies who endeavored)

Page 442, “Sardina” changed to “Sardinia” (king of Sardinia together)

Page 445, “pontroon” changed to “pontoon” (and four pontoon trains)

Page 446, “striction” changed to “stricken” (terror-stricken inaction)

Page 454, “Friendland” changed to “Friedland” (of Friedland and Tilsit)

Page 454 “Tuilieries” changed to “Tuileries” (Tuileries in a splendid)

Page 460, “Kremlin” changed to “Krémlin” (established in the Krémlin)

Page 461, “Lutzen” changed to “Lützen” (of Lützen, which is)

Page 473, “falshood” changed to “falsehood” (prejudice, and falsehood)

Page 475, “cortege” changed to “cortège” (funeral cortège was to pass)

End of Project Gutenberg's The Boys' Book of Rulers, by Lydia Hoyt Farmer