In modern times, the French Revolution as an event, and the Emperor Napoleon I. as a man, have furnished and continue to furnish us with the absorbing interest of watching such a drama. I say, 'continue to furnish,' for, clearly, so far as either the French revolution or Napoleon is concerned, the drama is not ended, the final catastrophe of the plot is not yet known. In the great stream of events it is the final issue which decides as to the value of the source. There is a reckoning to be held with all great events and all great men,--a balance to be struck between what they have cost humanity, and that for which humanity is indebted to them; but this final account is not closed until late. Is there any one in the present day, who, even with a full knowledge of events, would venture to pass a final judgment on the French revolution and the Emperor Napoleon? Is there any one who could apportion their due share of esteem and reprobation to the great fact and the great man of this century, and whose judgment would be received with general and lasting assent? Could any one decide without hesitation to what extent their influence has been for good or for evil? The answer to this question is in the hands of the generations to come. It is our successors who determine by a final analysis the good and evil in the works of their precursors; in this they will be guided by the impressions which they themselves receive from these actions, as well as by the principles and examples which have been bequeathed to them. One after the other the generations are called upon to take up their inheritance; one after the other they enter into their work, guided by their own light, their own liberty, and their own responsibility. It is for them to distinguish truth from falsehood, justice from injustice, that which is useful from that which is injurious, the practicable from the chimerical, and, according to right and reason, to accept or reject or modify the decisions and actions of their predecessors. {147} It is only after these prolonged investigations by the intelligence and experience of mankind that the true worth of great events and great men can be determined, and history can pass sentence upon their claims to the gratitude or censure of the human race. I do not intend, from any considerations of prudence, to take refuge in this obscurity of the future, or to keep back my thoughts and observe silence as to my hopes and fears. In one of the brightest moments of our epoch, forty years ago, when I recommenced my course of lectures on Modern History at the Sorbonne, I expressed my conviction that the youthful generation to which I addressed myself might, without too much self-confidence, use the words which Homer attributes to Sthenelus:--'We thank Heaven that we are better than our forefathers.'