Such is the verdict of one of the acutest and most dispassionate men that ever lived.  Napoleon is not painted as a monster, but as a supremely selfish man bent entirely on his own exaltation, making the welfare of France subservient to his own glory, and the interests of humanity itself secondary to his pride and fame.  History can add but little to this graphic sketch, although indignant and passionate enemies may dilate on the Corsican’s hard-heartedness, his duplicity, his treachery, his falsehood, his arrogance, and his diabolic egotism.  On the other hand, weak and sentimental idolaters will dwell on his generosity, his courage, his superhuman intellect, and the love and devotion with which he 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