for power was but the infatuation
repeated. Every act was an error: his return from Elba ought to have
been delayed for at least a year. His campaign of 1815 ought to have
made head against the Prussians and Germans in the south, while he left
the English and Prussians to waste their strength against his
fortresses. Even in Belgium, he ought to have poured the whole mass of
his army on the English at once, instead of violating his own first
principle of war, and dividing it into three armies, Ney's at
Quatre-Bras, Grouchy's at Wavre, and his own at Ligny.

Still, when routed at Waterloo, he had a powerful force in the field,
the remnant of his army, with Grouchy's corps. With those he ought to
have moved on slowly towards Paris, garrisoning the fortresses, breaking
up the roads, throwing every obstacle in the way of the Allies, and
finally, at the head of his 60,000 veterans, with the national guard of
the capital and the surrounding districts, (amounting to not less than
100,000 men,) at once making a front against the Allies, and
negociating.

Above all things, he ought _never_ to have separated himself from the
army; as he thus stripped his party of all power at the moment, and
virtually delivered himself a prisoner to the Bourbonists in the
capital. Whatever might be the difficulty of deciding on his conduct at
the time, it is now perfectly easy to see, that all these were blunders
of the first magnitude, and that every step was direct to his ruin.

He was no sooner in Paris, than he was made a prisoner; escaped being
shot, only through the mercy of the Allies; and, for the general quiet
of France and Europe, was consigned, for the remainder of his few and
melancholy years, to the prison of St Helena.

The name of Napoleon has a great place in history. He was a great moving
power of the day of change, a great statesman, a brilliant soldier, and
a splendid ruler of the mightiest dominion that had existed under one
sceptre, since the days of Charlemagne. He was a man of vast projects,
vast means, and vast opportunities. But he had no greatness of mind; he
had but one purpose, personal aggrandizement; and for that purpose, he
adopted every vice of the heart of man.

Without being bloodthirsty by nature, he was cruel by habit; without
being naturally avaricious, he was a universal spoiler; and without
savagely hating mankind, he spurned the feelings, the sufferings, and
the life of man. He was hollow, fierce, and