ing the eight days the lying-in-state lasted, more than two
hundred thousand people came to the Invalides daily. Thousands never
got within the coveted grounds, yet they came in increasing numbers
each successive day, notwithstanding the rigour of the biting weather.

It may be said that the whole world was moved with the desire to show
sympathy with this unsurpassed national devotion and worldwide
repentance. His remains are now in the church of the Invalides, where
the daily pilgrimage still goes on. The interest in the victim of the
stupidity of the British Administration never flags. Each day the dead
Emperor is canonised, and his prophetic words that posterity would do
him justice are being amply fulfilled.

The Christian Kings that made saintly war on Napoleon, and combined to
commit an atrocious crime in the name of the founder of our faith,
were dead. God in His mercy had dispensed with their sagacious
guidance in human affairs, and it may be they were paying a lingering
penalty for the diabolical act at the very time their prisoner's ashes
reached the shores of his beloved country and convulsed it with
irrepressible joy. They and many of their accomplices were gone. Four
Popes had reigned and passed on to their last long sleep. The Spanish
nation, which contributed to his downfall, had been smitten with the
plague of chronic revolution. They had been deprived of the great
guiding spirit who alone could administer that wholesome discipline
which was so necessary to keep the turbulent spirits in restraint.
Only Bernadotte, whom Napoleon had put in the way of becoming King of
Norway and Sweden, remained to represent the galaxy of Kings. A few of
the traitor Marshals were left, but Augereau had died soon after the
banishment and Berthier had committed suicide a few day before the
Battle of Waterloo by jumping out a window. Soult, Oudinot, and the
guilty Marmont were in evidence in these days of great national
rejoicing. Davoust, Jourdan, Macdonald, and Massena had passed behind
the veil. It was the defection of Berthier and Marmont, whom he
regarded as his most trusted and loyal comrades-in-arms, that crushed
the Emperor at the time of the first abdication. It was a cruel stab,
which sunk deep into his soul, and never really healed, but the most
heartless incident in connection with this betrayal was the
appointment of Marmont, the betrayer, by the Emperor Francis to be the
military instructor of Napoleon's son wh