THE HESPERIAN STUDENT.
C
Franco, a nation of twenty-live mHiirs, just recovering
from the destruction cuuscd by himself? Who dares to
say that tho individual la an unnoticed atom in human
affairs? With a bare thousand men Nopolcon invaded
a hostllo country, and its king, its nobles, lied before
him. An cnomy was son against his force 'then grown
to perhaps fivo thousand under Marshal Ncy, the brave
est of the brave his honor, his word, his sword, pledged
to Louts XVIII. Yot at the beck of Corporal Violet all
Is forgotten ; the strong mind yields to the stronger or
may wo say, strongest? And with his whole force he joins
the nrmj he meant to destroy.
One more incident will illiiBtrato the whole rcvolu.
Hon. That part of tho French army which mnnincd true
to tho king, was sent against the emperor under a loyal
commander. Arrived opposite Napoleon's position, tehy
bivouacked for the night. Picture the evening in camp
guards pacing to and fro on the dark background of tho
forest; camp Arcs shining on martial forms and trap
ping; royalist colors flying, royalist bands waking the
forest echoes the strength of the House of Bourbon en
camped. And what force comes to meet them? With
his usual impetuosity, Napoleon waits not to be attacked,
but charges on tho enemy on the very evening of their
arrival and in what array? Down the long arches of
the forest the soldiers see an open carriage rapidly ap
proachiug; arrived among them a single man alights and
holds out his arms to them, and the royalist army is des
troyed, annihilated; nay, more, it is become an cnlhusias.
tic, revolutionary army, its commander protesting in vain.
Nowhere in the history of mankind do we meet with an
other such instance of conscious power.
Arrived at Paris, I need not mention the marvellous
skill and strength with which his plans for government
and defease were compiled and executed. An army was
raised as if by magic two hundred thousand men to a
million arming against them.
The events of the Hundred Days are familiar to all, and
at its close wc sec Napoleon at the ever-famous field of
Waterloo opposing Wellington andBluchcr. Their com
bined force was superior to that of the French, but Na
poleon hoped, by his old tactics of cutting them apart, to
defeat them separately.
"What must have been the feelings of this man while
that mighty game was played? when for the long hours
his Old Guards were poured against Wellington's solid
squares, almost illustrating the old conundrum "if an ir
resistible force meets an immovable body;" when, as
says Hugo, "each square became a volcano spouting death,
each attacking squadron n cloud striking destruction in
lightning flashes of steel." We can not but feel sorrow
for the man of genius, beaten by the iron strength of the
English machinery. Wc can not but acknowledge that,
given all circumstances favorable, machinery can do
better work than the hand, but vary one important cir
cumstance and it requires intelligenceaye, genius, to
bring about like results.
Men do live through the supremest moments of their
fortunes, but there are times when one would think a long
life-time would not measure tho events of a single mo
meat, that the crush of contending passions would leave
no room for life, and if ever such time were it was at the
final charge of the French at Waterloo and their repulse.
It is use-less to specula; on the effects of a contrary re
ijulti It -was not to bet. The man who would be as the
gods, ruling over men, must bo destroyed by tho momen
tum of nations. Even this mighty car of progress la at
times a Juggernaut, crushing its victims under its iron
wheels. The individual who would puBh back tho world,
who would turn back the shadow on the dial, who would
causo tho sun to stand still in tho heavens, must bo auni.
hilatcd, with only the grandeur of his destruction as his
toward.
That star which Napoleon saw whenever ho raised his
eyes ' showed itself a meteor at Waterloo, and has gone
leaving behind it a trail of light; but in falling it has
burned a record on tho minds f men that will never be
effaced. '84.
PUNCTUATED JOKES.
If brevity is the soul of wit, how is his Tf ? Wheeling
Journal.
It is without a . New York Enterprise.
Do you expect anybody to " " that? Mirror.
Those are the worso jokes of the . Wash. Post.
My you are as pointed as a , aren't you? Burling
ton Enterprise.
We -- the opportunity to say that these are real ? ? ?
you fellows propound. Gold
Well, they oiler us a ous sort of amusement at best
and our spirits greatly. Railway Journal.
If you were in this of country wc would grasp your
5F Mcrcdian Recorder.
An editor is an his reputation with such puns. "Wel
come. Much ado about 0. Detroit Free Press.
"Wo would like to such punsters. Wc ca.i hardly
withhold a wicked I When we all get to the hot place
we'll apply for the job to put the : to roast you fellows.
Mining Journal.
Beans U have shown Fuch ft X of Xtra wit, lettuce
another word 2 it.
"Truth is mighty mighty scarce." Josh Billings.
"Yes," said Jack to his chum,'"it was so quiet ia my
room last night that I heard the bedtick."
"You arc in a pickle now," said a man in a crowd.
'A regular jam," said another." "Heaven preserve us!"
moaned an old ladj'.
"Which of Shakespeare's plays do you like best, Mr.
O'Flannagan ?" "Well, I like the Irish ones, the best.'
"And which may those be, Mr. O'Flannagan?" "Why,
O'Thello, Cornalius O'Lanus, Mike Beth, and Katharine
and Pnt Rucio.
"It is not the whichness of the which nor the when nor
cveu of the which, but of the what that constrains the
philosophical do; but isiug the isness of the is, is a mat
tcr uf no less difficulty than the whatness of the what."
Concord School of Philosophy.
Of all nuisances, tho very worst is that mutilator oil
music and eardrums, the whistler. He always comes too)
late school, whistling some outlandish homicide of
murderous tune and makes recitation hours more hideout:
than did tho "third Hallites" of last year. Ho ought tq
be squelched.