The Historians' History of the World 06

Upon this firm basis was reared the throne of the new rulers, neither of whom claimed to be a legitimate monarch. Both had with more or less right acquired a dictatorial power which they understood how to wield throughout many years, until at length a moment came when they made up their minds to a partial renunciation of authority. This was the critical moment that decided the fate of the rulers and their work, for everything depended on the choice of the moment and the extent of the concessions. Here the penetrating vision and the statesmanlike ability of Augustus are seen to surpassing advantage, while Napoleon, who only made up his mind after long hesitation, took his hand from the tiller reluctantly, only to see very speedily with what scant success his ship battled against the overpowering torrent and was driven helplessly nearer and nearer the destruction that threatened it.

The rule of Augustus as well as that of Napoleon III was a tyranny in the good sense of the word; neither the one nor the other lacked the drop of democratic oil with which the ruler was anointed. Both wanted to be assured that their high place was secure only because of its necessity to the state. Again and again Augustus restored his power (to all appearances at least) to the senate, to receive it again, but only for a definite number of years; and even in the case of Napoleon III, it was a polite official fiction that his power had been delegated to him by the nation in the first year of his reign and was even in his last year confirmed by a plebiscite.

If they challenged a crisis of this kind, both held the reins of government firmly in their hands, nor did any one seriously believe that they would have allowed this power to be wrested from them by a vote unfavourable to them. That the Roman senate and the French people were repeatedly confronted with this crisis, shows clearly what value those rulers attached to this right. Both rulers had thrust aside the higher classes of society which had hitherto guided the state in its course, in order to derive their support from the broad masses of the lower classes and the army. The immense presents made by Augustus to his soldiers and to the population of his chief town prove that in the well-being and content of this very class he rightly recognised the real support of his institutions. In similar fashion Napoleon III took pre-eminent care for the material welfare of France, which reached an unprecedented level under his rule.

Neither ruler confined his liberality to what was absolutely necessary; they also lent support to art and science in remarkable ways. Architecture is an art for monarchs, and architecture was the art of Augustus and of Napoleon III. Modern Paris is really the work of Napoleon III, and so, too, it was the boast of Augustus that he had taken over Rome a city of bricks but had left it a city of marble. In the literary efforts of their times both rulers took at least the share of dilettanti. Each of them, in order to neglect no part of his inheritance, not only collected the literary relics of his uncle but also defended in writing his actions as emperor. Without mentioning the smaller literary essays of either, we may note that Augustus sought to defend himself in his memoirs, while Napoleon III in his history of Julius Cæsar sought far less to write the history of Cæsar than to defend the principle of Cæsarism.

A Roman Tripod

The worship of the uncle to whose popularity they owed the crown—in the one case the worship of the dictator, in the other that of Napoleon I—impresses its character on the reign of both rulers. In particular, the military glory of these two great generals was exploited by their nephews in a variety of ways. Neither Augustus nor Napoleon III were really soldiers; but they needed for their rule a powerful effective army, which they would have found far greater difficulty in bending to their ends had they not had the memories of a great past to help them. Both succeeded in creating a fighting army, the pride of the nation, which they knew how to use when it was really necessary, but without taking any real pleasure in fighting and hazard, such as was felt by Julius Cæsar and Napoleon I. The successes they loved best were not those won in war but those due to threats of war and to diplomacy. The war against the Parthians, the hereditary foes of Rome, was certainly a portion of the legacy left by the dictator; but Augustus hesitated long before beginning this really dangerous war, until good fortune played the lost standards into his hands. Military honour was hereby satisfied and the noisy rejoicing of his fellow-soldiers now relieved him of the duty of making war upon the redoubtable enemy.