“Good day, Mother Marguerite!” The aged eyes are dim, and they gleam with no recognition. She knows that the Emperor is in the neighborhood; she expects to go to the château to see him; she will carry him a basket of eggs to remind him of old times. Suddenly his Majesty puts himself where the dim eyes can see him better, draws nearer to her, and mimicking in voice and manner his schoolboy tone, and rubbing his hands as he had used to do: “Come, Mother Marguerite! Some milk and fresh eggs; we are dying of hunger.” A little more jogging of the memory, and the ancient dame, knowing now who it is, falls at the Emperor’s feet. He lifts her, and still insists on the eggs and milk. She serves, he eats, both of them happy, and both of them full of reminiscences of the years long ago. Though he left her a purse of gold, Mother Marguerite probably was prouder of the fact that he came to her house and ate. One more visit the great Emperor will pay Brienne, the year of the last visit being 1814. Foreign invaders will be encamped all round about the playgrounds of his boyhood. Prussian Blücher will be taking his ease and his dinner in the château. Prussian Blücher will give him battle at Brienne, and will rout him at La Rothière. And to his companions, the falling Emperor will again point out places of interest in the old school-ground, but not in the happy vein of 1804. * * * * * What should be done with Italy? French arms had wrested her from Austria and defended her from Russia. She was too weak to stand alone. Take away the support of France, and she would again be cut up and devoured by the stronger powers. On all sides she was threatened. The English were at Malta, the Russians at Corfu, the Austrians in Venice, while in Naples and Rome were apparent allies, but actual foes. Reasons of state made it imperative that Napoleon’s imperial system should embrace Italy, and the Italians themselves favored the change. Napoleon tendered the crown to his brother Joseph. To the amazement of the world that preposterous egotist refused upon two grounds: first, Italy was too near to France for its king to enjoy that complete independence which Joseph felt necessary to his self-respect; second, the crown of France belonged to him, in prospect, as heir of the childless Napoleon; and Joseph would not exchange this selfish, shadowy claim for the certainty offered him by his too partial brother! Surely there never lived a man more be-cursed with ingrates of his own blood than Napoleon! “I am sometimes tempted to believe,” said he, “that Joseph thinks I have robbed my elder brother of his share of the inheritance of the late king, our father!” It was only after Joseph had resisted all persuasions that Napoleon decided to make himself king of Italy “until the peace.”