So far from her husband, her guide and protector, Marie Louise felt alone and strange in the grand palace of Saint Cloud. It was then that she began to suffer from those attacks of homesickness which made her long for the neighborhood of Vienna. Up to that day there had been nothing but fairy-like splendor; the young sovereign had seen only the brilliant side of the Empire. A vague presentiment made her fear that she was to see the other side. Napoleon had not been able to make his wife share his boundless confidence in himself. She would have been tempted to apply to all she saw these words from the "Imitation": "The glory which comes from men passes quickly away.... The glory of this world is never void of sorrow." Napoleon had just said in his last proclamation: "Russia is led by fatality. She must fulfil her destiny." Alas! it was not Russia, it was France; it was the Emperor who was led by fatality. The army had crossed the Niemen June 24. As the national historian has said, "We shall find glory at every step; but we must not look for good fortune beyond the Niemen." Up to this point every one looked upon Napoleon as invincible, and his young wife had imagined that he was the incarnation of success. This false idea soon vanished. Marie Louise's happy days were over. In our book about the Empress Josephine we regretted that Napoleon had not oftener sought her advice. We may say the same thing regarding the second Empress. Marie Louise was very young and inexperienced, especially in matters of statesmanship and diplomacy. Yet her husband, genius as he was, would have done well to take counsel of her. She loved peace, did not care for adventure, and she would have dissuaded him from the Russian campaign. She who had known from infancy the prejudices, passions, and rancors of the Viennese court, would have warned him against blind confidence in Austrian promises. But would she have dared to give even one word of advice to her powerful husband? Had a woman of twenty ventured to advise the great Napoleon, the modern Caesar, the second Charlemagne, he would have received the presumptuous child with a smile. Yet it was she who would have been right, and she would have prevented the lamentable wreck of the gigantic Empire. How small a thing is genius, that word we utter with such respect and emphasis! How petty before God is the greatest of men!