We are told that on one occasion Napoleon was shut up in an
island of the Danube, hemmed in by the Archduke Charles.
He was able to maintain himself there, but he sent word to
Italy and Spain and France, and he ordered his marshal with
such minuteness that every day’s march was perfect. All over
the north of France, and from the extreme south of Spain and
Portugal, the corps were, all of them, advancing, and day by
day, coming nearer and nearer. Not one of them, on the march,
had any idea what was the final purpose, and why they were
being ordered to the central point. But on the day the master
appointed the heads of the columns appeared in every direction.
Then it was that he was able to break forth from his bondage and
roll back the tide of war.
How like our life, as it moves on, to the command of the Master. Its
forces seem confused to us, without cohesion, ofttimes antagonistic.
Joy and sorrow, health and sickness, prosperity and adversity--all
march in their appointed paths and to their appointed ends. But at
last we shall see behind them all the one will and the one power,
and we shall be able to say on the day of final emancipation and
victory, as said Joseph of old, God meant it unto good, to bring it to
pass.--JOHN COLEMAN ADAMS.
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