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And all his annexations have come to that! His last hour has
now come, and he, the man of destiny, he who had rocked the world as in
the throes of an earthquake, is now powerless--even as a beggar, so he
died. On the wings of a tempest, that raged with unwonted fury, up to
the throne of the only power that controlled him while he lived, went
the fiery soul of that wonderful warrior, another witness to the
existence of that eternal decree, that they who do not rule in
righteousness shall perish from the earth.


NAPOLEON[48]
ROBERT G. INGERSOLL

A little while ago, I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon, a
magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity, and
gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at
last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and
thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world.
I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide. I
saw him at Toulon. I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of
Paris.


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