de Grâce. From thence they were re- | tary air, attended the remains of their moved to Paris, with a view to their beloved chief to his last resting-place. being interred, with the other illustri- An aged charger, once ridden by the ous warriors of France, in the Church Emperor on his fields of fame, survived of the Invalides. The reinterment, to follow the gigantic hearse to the which awakened the deepest interest grave. The place of interment was in France and over Europe, took place worthy of the hero who was now placed on the 15th December 1840. The day beneath its roof: it contained the rewas fine, though piercingly cold; but mains of Turenne and Vauban, and such was the interest excited, that six the paladins of France. Enchanting hundred thousand persons were assem- music thrilled every heart as the coffin bled to witness the ceremony. Many was lowered into the tomb: the thundied of the severity of the weather ders of the artillery, so often vocal to while it continued. The procession his triumphs, now gave him the last approached Paris by the road from St honours of mortality: the genius of Cloud, so often traversed by the Em- Marochetti was selected to erect a fitperor in the days of his glory. The ting monument to his memory; and body was conveyed in a colossal hearse the bones of Napoleon finally reposed drawn by twelve horses: it passed on the banks of the Seine, amidst through the now finished and stupen- the "people whom he had loved so dous arch erected to the Grand Army well." Yet will future ages perhaps at the barrier of Neuilly; and slowly regret the ocean-girt isle, the solitary moving through the Champs Elysées, stone, the willow-tree. No tomb at reached the Invalides by the bridge of Paris can equal that in the Valley of La Concorde. Louis Philippe and all Slanes: even the sepulchres of the his court officiated at the august cere- dead are in danger in that land of mony, which was performed with extra- change. A stone and a name alone ordinary pomp in the splendid church befit his greatness. Napoleon will of the edifice; but nothing awakened live when Paris is in ruins: his deeds such deep feeling as a band of the mu- will survive the dome of the Invalides: tilated veterans of the Old Guard, who—no man can show the tomb of Alexwith mournful visages, but a yet mili- | ander !

CHAPTER XCVI.

CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS.

66

1. HISTORY," says Bolingbroke, | principles of universal application, and "is philosophy teaching by example." the neglect or observance of which, Society, it is true, is ever-changing; in all ages, has been attended with the the human race is continually advanc- same consequences. It is in the dising, and never recedes; and it is rarely covery of those principles, hidden from indeed that a combination of circum- the ordinary gaze amid the multiplicity stances occurs again, precisely similar of public events, that the great use of to any which had preceded it. But history consists; it is in their general amidst the infinite diversity of human diffusion through all the thinking classes affairs, and the ceaseless progress of of the community, that the only sure mankind, there are certain general foundation, either for social prosperity

he will be led as widely astray as if he regarded only the past, and cast aside all observation of the present. At one period, and in some countries, mankind

or national security, is to be found. "Man," says Sir Walter Scott, "only differs from birds and beasts because he has the means of availing himself of the knowledge acquired by his pre-appear to make the most rapid progress, decessors. The swallow builds the their numbers multiply with incredible same nest which its father and mother rapidity, they expand in every direc built the sparrow does not improve tion, and come to exercise a great, by the experience of its parents. Our sometimes a durable, influence on ancestors lodged in caves and wigwams, human affairs. At other times, nawhere we construct palaces for the tions become stationary, or even retrorich, and comfortable dwellings for the grade; their energies seem exhausted; poor. And why is this? Because our their fire is burnt out; the numbers eye is able to look back upon the past, of their inhabitants decline; their meto improve upon our ancestors' improve- morable actions are at an end; and ments, to avoid their errors. This can centuries elapse without their giving only be done by studying history, and birth to one original thought, or comparing it with passing events." The achieving a single action worthy of more widely that the people are ad- being recorded in the annals of manmitted into a share of government, the kind. more direct the influence which they exercise upon the decision of the legislature has become, the more indispensable is it that these principles should be generally inculcated and understood. For without wisdom in the direction of government, no security can exist either for national or individual welfare; and without general information on historical subjects among the people, they will rarely, except under the pressure of immediate necessity, either submit to the sacrifices, or acquiesce in the course, which wisdom requires.

2. "Whatever," says Dr Johnson, "makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, exalts us in the scale of thinking beings." The words are familiar to every one, till they have become trite; but the thought is often far removed even from the most contemplative breasts. To rise superior to the pressure of existing events, to generalise at once from the past and the present, and to draw inferences in regard to the future, which shall be just even in the everchangeful current of human affairs, is perhaps the highest effort of philosophical power. Yet it is not sufficient to do so, that the observer is imbued with the spirit of his own times, and is deeply impressed with the progress among mankind, and vast changes in Society, that he sees around him. If he limits his observation to them alone,

3. In the first period, the thoughtful observer is apt to be unduly influenced by the strength of the current in which he finds himself placed. He sees everything around him in rapid motion; institutions changing, new powers rising into action, old influences sinking or forgotten. He not unnaturally imagines that this violent current is to continue for ever the same, when, in fact, the very rapidity of its motion is only accelerating the period when it is to be followed by a calm. In the latter situation, the observer is often led unduly to despair of the fortunes of his species. Indignant at the corruption or selfishness with which he is surrounded; unable to arouse his countrymen to activity or public virtue; desponding, from observing the community to which he belongs sinking in the scale of nations, or irrecoverably bent upon a ruinous course of policy, he becomes hopeless of the improvement of mankind, and vents his discontent in cutting satires on the prevailing vices, which he naturally considers as the melancholy termination of national greatness. He forgets that such a state of things is not eternal; that a remedy, and an effectual remedy, is provided against its evils, in the rise of other states, the advent of fiercer passions, or the inroad of a braver people; and that as certainly as the bursting vegetation of spring succeeds