Considering the difficulties and hatreds with which Napoleon III. had to contend, I am surprised that his reign lasted as long as it did,—longer than those of Louis XVIII. and Charles X. combined; longer than that of Louis Philippe, with the aid of the middle classes and the ablest statesmen of France,—an impressive fact, which indicates great ability of some kind on the part of the despot. But he paid dearly for his passion for power in the enormous debts entailed by his first war of prestige, and in the death of more than a hundred thousand men in the camps, on the field of battle, and in the hospitals. If he had had any conscience he would have been appalled; but he had no conscience, any more than his uncle, when anything stood in his way. The gratification of his selfish ambition overmastered patriotism and real fame, and prepared the way for his fall and the ignominy which accompanied it.
Had either of the monarchs who ruled France since the Revolution of 1791 been animated with a sincere desire for the public good, and been contented to rule as a constitutional sovereign, as they all alike swore to rule, I do not see why they might not have transmitted their thrones to their heirs. Napoleon I. certainly could have perpetuated his empire in his family had he not made such awful blunders as the invasion of Spain and Russia, which made him unable to contend with external enemies. Charles X. might have continued to reign had he not destroyed all constitutional liberty. Louis Philippe might have transmitted his power to the House of Orleans had he not sacrificed public interests to his greediness for money and to his dynastic ambition. And Napoleon III. might have reigned until he died had he fulfilled his promises to the parties who elevated him; but he could have continued to reign in the violation of his oaths only so long as his army was faithful and successful. When at last hopelessly defeated and captured, his throne instantly crumbled away; he utterly collapsed, and was nothing but a fugitive. What a lesson this is to all ambitious monarchs who sacrifice the interest of their country to personal aggrandizement! So long as a nation sees the monarch laboring for the aggrandizement and welfare of the country rather than of himself, it will rally around him and venerate him, even if he leads his subjects to war and enrolls them in his gigantic armies,—as in the case of the monarchs of Prussia since Frederic II., and even those of Austria.
Napoleon III. was unlike all these, for with transcendent cunning and duplicity he stole his throne, and then sacrificed the interests of France to support his usurpation. That he was an adventurer—as his enemies called him—is scarcely true; for he was born in the Tuileries, was the son of a king, and nephew of the greatest sovereign of modern times. So far as his usurpation can be palliated,—for it never can be excused,—it must be by his deep-seated conviction that he was the heir of