It is not always easy to discern why one general is worshipped, even by men who have never seen him, while another, of equal or even superior capacity, fails to awaken the least spark of affection, except in his chosen friends.  Grant was undoubtedly a greater soldier than McClellan, and the genius of Wellington was not less than that of Nelson.  And yet, while Nelson and McClellan won all hearts, not one single private had either for Wellington or Grant any warmer sentiment than respect.  It would be as unfair, however, to attribute selfishness or want of sympathy to either Wellington or Grant, as to insinuate that Nelson and McClellan were deliberate bidders for popularity.  It may be that in the two former the very strength of their patriotism was at fault.  To them the State was everything, the individual nothing.  To fight for their country was merely a question of duty, into which the idea of glory or recompense hardly entered, and, indifferent themselves either to praise or blame, they considered that the victory of the national arms was a sufficient reward for the soldier’s toils.  Both were generous and open-handed, exerting themselves incessantly to provide for the comfort and well-being of their troops.  Neither was insensible to suffering, and both were just as capable of self-sacrifice as either Nelson or McClellan.  But the standpoint from which they looked at war was too exalted.  Nelson and McClellan, on the other hand, recognised that they commanded men, not stoics.  Sharing with Napoleon the rare quality of captivating others, a quality which comes by nature or comes not at all, they made allowance for human nature, and identified themselves with those beneath them in the closest camaraderie.  And herein, to a great extent, lay the secret of the enthusiastic devotion which they inspired.

If the pitiless dissectors of character are right we ought to see in Napoleon the most selfish of tyrants, the coldest end most crafty of charlatans.  It is difficult, however, to believe that the hearts of a generation of hardy warriors were conquered merely by ringing phrases and skilful flattery.  It should be remembered that from a mercenary force, degraded and despised, he transformed the Grand Army into the terror of Europe and the pride of France.  During the years of his glory, when the legions controlled the destinies of their country, none was more honoured than the soldier.  His interests were always the first to be considered.  The highest ranks in the peerage, the highest offices of State, were held by men who had carried the knapsack, and when thrones were going begging their claims were preferred before all others.  The Emperor, with all his greatness, was always “the Little Corporal” to his grenadiers.  His career was their own.  As they shared his glory, so they shared his reward.  Every upward step he made towards supreme power he took them with him, and their relations were always of the most cordial and familiar character.  He