It was a proud day when, in the ancient metropolis of the world, and in the fulness of his fame, Pope Leo III. placed the crown of Augustus upon Charlemagne’s brow, and gave to him, amid the festivities of Christmas, his apostolic benediction.  His dominions now extended from Catalonia to the Bohemian forests, embracing Germany, France, the Netherlands, Italy, and the Spanish main,—­the largest empire which any one man has possessed since the fall of the Roman Empire.  What more natural than for Charlemagne to feel that he had restored the Western Empire?  What more natural than that he should have taken the title, still claimed by the Austrian emperor, in one sense his legitimate successor,—­Kaiser, or Caesar?  In the possession of such enormous power, he naturally dreamed of establishing a new universal military monarchy like that of the Romans,—­as Charles V. dreamed, and Napoleon after him.  But this is a dream that Providence has rebuked among all successive conquerors.  There may have been need of the universal monarchy of the Caesars, that Christianity might spread in peace, and be protected by a reign of law and order.  This at least is one of the platitudes of historians.  Froude himself harps on it in his life of Caesar.  Historians are fond of exalting the glories of imperialism, and everybody is dazzled by the splendor and power of ancient Roman emperors.  They do not, I think, sufficiently consider the blasting influence of imperialism on the life of nations,—­how it dries up the sources of renovation, how it necessarily withers literature and philosophy, how nothing can thrive under it but pomp and material glories, how it paralyzes all virtuous impulses, how it kills all enthusiasm, how it crushes out all hope and lofty aspirations, how it makes slaves of its best subjects, how it fills the earth with fear, how it drains national resources to support standing armies, how it mocks all enterprises which do not receive imperial approbation, how everything is concentrated to reflect the glory of one man or family; how impossible, under its withering shade, is manly independence, or the free expression of opinions or healthy growth; how it buries up, under its armies, discontents and aspirations alike, and creates nothing but machinery which must ultimately wear out and leave a world in ruins, with nothing stable to take its place.  Law and order are good things, the preservation of property is desirable, the punishment of crime is necessary; but there are other things which are valuable also.  Nothing is so valuable as the preservation of national life; nothing is so healthy as scope for energies; nothing is so contemptible and degrading as universal sycophancy to official rule.  There are no tyrants more oppressive than the tools of absolute power.  See in what a state imperialism left the Roman Empire when it fell.  There were no rallying forces; there was no resurrection of heroes.  Vitality had fled.  Where would Turkey be to-day without the European powers, if the Sultan’s authority were to fall?  It would be in the state of ancient Babylon or Persia when those empires fell.