Waterbury evening Democrat., 1895-08-06
joy Of sharing his glory and his humiii-

joy of sharing his glory and his humili- ation.
 Napoleon was called Le Petit Caporal and was honored 100 years later by hay ing a cigarette named after him, but too late to swell his proud, cold bosom in the i'll ventilated sarcophagus which holds all that is mortal of the first em- peror.
 Can storied urn or animated bust
 Back to the trachea woo the fleeting breath2 Or joyous pueans stir the moldering dust
 Or soothe the dull, cold ear of deathf
 No, indeed should certainly say not.
 The marriage of Napoleon was fol- lowed by one of the most brilliant cam paigns in history. Eleven days after his wedding he went to complete his honey moon amid the rocks of the frozen Maritime Alps with his frost bitten, starving army.
 Maritime indeed !'' methinks hear Josephine remarking, with a cynical look at her marriage certificate, and also at a bright new silver butter dish given her by the nobility of France. "What an attractive bride I must be, with one husband passed on to spirit life and the other eating his frozen victuals 5000 feet above timber line !'
 From these lofty heights the Little Corporal, wearing a large pair of ear muffs, descended upon a first, second, third and fourth Austrian army, only to drive them before him into a corner and wipe them out at his leisure. Peace fol- lowed-the peace of Campo Formio- and Lombardy and the Netherlands were ceded to France.
 Space will not permit of detail here regarding the great battles of Napoleon, but we may say that with these victories the powers at home saw at once that he was no longer their servant, but the peoples idol, and that one day he would not only wield the baton for France to fiddle, but that Europe and the civilized world must soon mark down their se- curities when Napoleon said so.
 He proposed to conquer Egypt and capture the pyramids. He had the idea that they would look well in the front yard of Versailles. He lived in the sad dle and sniffed in every breeze the warm blood of his foe.
 Such a life would bore me to death, but just see how different Napoleon was He kept on fighting Christian or Mos lem, Jew or gentile, until the thirsty yet blood clotted jaws of insatiate war were paralyzed, and with yet hungry and staring eyes and lolling tongue the cruel beast that had peopled continent with widows and orphans, sowed the valleys thick with graves and filled the snowy canyons of the Alps with un- known dead paused at the evening of Q great disaster and found itself deserted.
 Yet Napoleon was feared even after he was dead, and the English piled tons upon tons of granite over his poor clay and bound these giant blocks of stone together with bands of iron, so that many years afterward the work of ex- humation was almost impossible.
 But why is it that with all the glory that surrounds the name of Napoleon every human heart beats more in sym pathy with his wronged and wrong but discarded wife and human interest turns from the history of Marengo and of AusterEtz to read the story of one poor, ambitious, broken heart that beat and bled for him?
 It is not the first case wherein de- voted wife has kindled in her husband s breast the fire of ambition only at last to be consumed by it and cast to the four winds of heaven by his hand.
 Had Napoleon fought with the Mos lem foe summers and spent his winters iIl Paris with his wife the war would have lasted longer and his domestic his