y for the good of other
people, and was influenced neither by personal considerations nor
political wishes of his own.

But Maximilian was not the man to contend with the difficulties
that beset him in Mexico. His very merits were against him. As
we read the sad history of his failure, we feel that in his hands
the regeneration of Mexico was hopeless. Men like John or Henry
Lawrence, heroes of the Indian Mutiny, accustomed to deal with
semi-savages, might perhaps have succeeded; but Maximilian was
the product of an advanced civilization, and all his sentiments
were of a super-refined character. He was no general; his forces
were kept scattered over an immense area. He seems to have been
no administrator. He was accustomed to deal with Italians,--men
of enthusiastic natures and fanatical ideas. Mexicans had no
enthusiasms; and in place of patriotism there was a prevailing
sentiment of thorough aversion to the French and to the foreigners
they had brought with them. Maximilian had come to Mexico with
all kinds of liberal projects for its civilization. It was like
forcing sanitary improvements on the inhabitants of an Irish shanty,
or catching a street _gamin_ and imposing on him the restraints
and amenities of high-class culture.

The departure of the French troops left the way clear for the party
of Juarez. It rapidly gained strength, and prepared to besiege the
emperor in his capital. "I cannot bear to expose the city to danger,"
said Maximilian, who, in spite of being continually harassed and
cruelly deceived day after day, never failed in consideration for
those about him. He retired to Queretaro, where Generals Miramon,
Castillo, Mejia, Avellano, and Prince Salm-Salm had gathered a
little army of about eight thousand men.

Maximilian at Queretaro showed all his nobleness of spirit, kindness
of heart, and simplicity of life. During the siege, which lasted
over two months, he shared the fatigues and privations of his common
soldiers, and lived as they did, on the flesh of mules, while his
officers' tables were much better supplied. He exposed his person
upon all occasions, taking daily walks upon the bastions as tranquilly
as he might have done in the green alleys of his distant home. One
day his eye fell upon six dead bodies dangling from the branches
of six trees. He turned away, with intense emotion. They were the
bodies of six of his own couriers, who had fallen into the hands
of the enemy.

He might have cu