The
instability of earthly power, the putting down of the great, their exile
and chastening, and their restoration in their own persons, or in the
persons of their descendants--this was his subject. He brought the
application down to their own rude, simple life, then returned with it to
a higher plane.
At last, as if the memories of France, "beloved and incomparable,"
overcame him, he dwelt upon the bitter glory of the Revolution. Then,
with a sudden flush, he spoke of Napoleon. At that name the church became
still, and the dullest habitant listened intently. Napoleon was in the
air--a curious sequence to the song that was sung on the night of
Valmond's arrival, when a phrase was put in the mouths of the parish,
which gave birth to a personal reality. "Vive Napoleon!" had been on
every lip this week, and it was an easy step from a phrase to a man.
The Cure spoke with pensive dignity of Napoleon's past career, his work
for France, his too proud ambition, behind which was his great love of
country; and how, for chastening, God turned upon him violently and
tossed him like a ball into the wide land of exile, from which he came
out no more.
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