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, and he wanted the daughter of the successor of Charlemagne in marriage.  And her father, the proud Austrian emperor, was willing to give her up to his conqueror from reasons of state, and from policy and expediency.  To all appearance it was no sacrifice to Marie Louise to be transferred from the dull court of Vienna to the splendid apartments of the Tuileries, to be worshipped by the brilliant marshals and generals who had conquered Europe, and to be crowned as empress of the French by the Pope himself.  Had she been a nobler woman, she might have hesitated and refused; but she was vain and frivolous, and was overwhelmed by the glory with which she was soon to be surrounded.

And yet the marriage was a delicate affair, and difficult to be managed.  It required all the tact of an arch-diplomatist.  So Prince Metternich was sent to Paris to bring it about.  In fact, it was he more than any one else who for political reasons favored this marriage.  Napoleon was exceedingly gracious, while Metternich had his eyes and ears open.  He even dared to tell the Emperor many unpleasant truths.  The affair, however, was concluded; and after Napoleon’s divorce from Josephine, in 1810, the Austrian princess became empress of the French.

One thing was impressed on the mind of Metternich during the festivities of this second visit to Paris; and that was that during the year 1811 the peace of Europe would not be disturbed.  Napoleon was absorbed with the preparations for the invasion of Russia,—­the only power he had not subdued, except England, and a power in secret coalition with both Prussia and Austria.  His acquisitions would not be secure unless the Colossus of the North was hopelessly crippled.  Metternich saw that the campaign could not begin till 1812, and that the Emperor had need of all the assistance he could get from conquered allies.  He saw also the mistakes of Napoleon, and meant to profit by them.  He anticipated for that daring soldier nothing but disaster in attempting to battle the powers of Nature at such a distance from his capital.  He perceived that Napoleon was alienating, in his vast schemes of aggrandizement, even his own ministers, like Talleyrand and Fouche, who would leave him the moment they dared, although his marshals and generals might remain true to him because of the enormous rewards which he had lavished upon them for their military services.  He knew the discontent of Italy and Poland because of unfulfilled promises.  He knew the intense hatred of Prussia because of the humiliations and injuries Napoleon had inflicted on her.  Metternich was equally aware of the hostility of England, although Pitt had passed away; and he despised the arrogance of a man who looked upon himself as greater than destiny.  “It is an evidence of the weakness of the human understanding,” said the infatuated conqueror, “for any one to dream of resisting me.”