inspired his soldiers,--all which in a sense is
true. The philosophical historian will enumerate the services Napoleon
rendered to his country, whatever were his virtues or faults; but of
these services the last person to perceive the value was Metternich
himself, even as he would be the last to acknowledge the greatness of
those revolutionary ideas of which Napoleon was simply the product. It
was the French Revolution which produced Napoleon, and it was the French
Revolution which Metternich abhorred, in all its aspects, beyond any
other event in the whole history of the world. But he was not a
rhetorician, as Burke was, and hence confined himself to acts, and not
to words. He was one of those cool men who could use decent and
temperate language about the Devil himself and the Pandemonium in which
he reigns.

On the breaking up of diplomatic relations between Austria and France in
1809, Metternich was recalled to Vienna to take the helm of state in the
impending crisis. Count von Stadion, though an able man, was not great
enough for the occasion. Only such a consummate statesman as Metternich
was capable of taking the reins intrusted to him with unbounded
confidence by his feeble master, whose general policy and views were
similar to those of his trusted minister, but who had not the energy to
carry them out. Metternich was now made a prince, with large gifts of
land and money, and occupied a superb position,--similar to that which
Bismarck occupied later on in Prussia, as chancellor of the empire. It
was Metternich's policy to avert actual hostilities until Austria could
recover from the crushing defeat at Austerlitz, and until Napoleon
should make some great mistake. He succeeded in arranging another treaty
with France within the year.

The object which Napoleon had in view at this time was his marriage with
Marie Louise, from which he expected an heir to his vast dominions, and
a more completely recognized position among the great monarchs of
Europe. He accordingly divorced Josephine,--some historians say with her
consent. Ten years earlier his offers would, of course, have been
indignantly rejected, or three years later, after the disasters of the
Russian campaign. But Napoleon was now at the summit of his power,--the
arbiter of Europe, the greatest sovereign since Julius Caesar, with a
halo of unprecedented glory, a prodigy of genius as well as a recognized
monarch. Nothing was apparently beyond his aspirations,