Who can blame Betsy for Being Heavy-hearted on that day in early spring when she sailed away from St. Helena, toward the colder country that was her real home? Even though her parents and her brothers and sister were with her, she felt that she was leaving behind much that was dear. She loved the lonely, mountainous island where she had lived so long. She believed that no other flowers or fruits could equal those produced on its tropical soil. She felt that no new friends could compare with those from whom she had just parted.

More than this, although she tried to persuade herself that in the future she might revisit St. Helena, she could hardly believe that when that day arrived, Napoleon would still be there to receive her with his accustomed cordiality.

Indeed, as a true friend of the Emperor's, Betsy could scarcely wish to find him there on that indefinite day of her return, since that would mean long-continued captivity for him. Rather, if she hoped to see him again, the young girl more probably imagined that after no very long time some change in the sentiments of those in power might result in freeing him from his galling bondage.

Though we to-day may not be certain just what form Betsy's thoughts took on that monotonous homeward voyage, we can be sure that Napoleon had no small part in them. Already she knew the chief facts in his meteoric career; and her vivid fancy must have brought before her many scenes in which he had had part.

Like Betsy, you and I may see the panorama of Napoleon's life unfold in a series of pictures melting into one another, some clearer than the others, yet all leaving an ineffaceable impression.

First, there is the thin, pale, serious-eyed boy running half wild over the hills of his native Corsica. He is an affectionate brother—this young Napoleon—to the six younger brothers and sisters, and a close companion of Joseph, only a year older. He is devoted to his high-spirited and energetic mother, once the beautiful Letitia Ramolino, whose life, since her marriage, has been so hard. He is dutiful to his father, the improvident, though ambitious Charles MariÉ de Buonaparte. Yet, although dutiful, he resents his father's lack of patriotism in seeking favors from the Frenchmen in authority in Corsica, for the boy, born only a year after Corsica had passed under French rule, had small love for those outsiders who had made it impossible for his native island to gain independence.

One of our pictures would show us Napoleon, a timid boy in the military school at Brienne, where his father had secured a place for him by showing he was of noble descent. The boy works hard at his tasks, his teachers commend his industry, while calling him reserved and obstinate.

The young Napoleon is not happy in the society of his one hundred and twenty fellow-pupils, who, like himself, are supported by the Government at Brienne. They are largely the sons of poor nobles—vain and indolent—and they love to tease the timid boy.

"I am tired of poverty and the jeers of insolent scholars. If fortune refuses to smile upon me, take me from Brienne, and make me if you will a mechanic." In spite of this letter, the father wisely keeps the little boy at Brienne, and gradually he makes friends, especially among the teachers.

"I have seen a spark here which cannot be too carefully cultivated," writes the aged Chevalier de Keralio, an inspector of the school, who is anxious to have Napoleon sent to the military school at Paris.

Our pictures are now painted in somewhat brighter colors.

For although at Paris the young Napoleon is not perfectly contented, he knows that he is on the way to a modest independence. He is surrounded by foolish young men with whose extravagance he cannot keep up. But only his sympathetic sister Elizabeth at St. Cyr hears him complain of the difficulties that beset him.

Napoleon is naturally happier when at the early age of sixteen he finds himself a second lieutenant in the army. He rejoices at the prospect of helping his family out of his meagre income of less than two hundred and fifty dollars a year. But his responsibility is suddenly increased when Charles Bonaparte, his father, dies. The family is worse off than before, and when Joseph cannot straighten out their tangled affairs, Napoleon decides to undertake the task.

After eight years of absence we see Napoleon on leave from his regiment, returning to Corsica. He has hard work before him. There are four little children under nine, Louis, Pauline, Caroline, and Jerome, at home with their widowed mother. There are two, Lucien and Elizabeth, away at school. Only Joseph and Napoleon are on their feet, and on Napoleon, the stronger character, falls the brunt of the burden.

When the young lieutenant goes back to the army he takes Louis with him. He tutors him in mathematics, he shares his all with him. He deprives himself of many things really necessary to his position in order to help his family.

"I breakfast on dry bread," he writes. He stints himself for his family, he stints himself still further to have a little money for the books that he needs.

The claims of the family are pressing. Again Napoleon has leave of absence. In Corsica he tries in vain to get something for his mother from what is left of their property,—from salt works, from a mulberry plantation belonging to the estate.

It is five or six years since the death of Charles Bonaparte. Napoleon has been away from his post too long. In 1792, after an absence from his regiment of fifteen months, he loses his place in the army.

The picture now before us is a dark one. The young man is discouraged. Hardly knowing where to turn, he drifts toward Paris.

For two or three years he has been uncertain which side to take in the Revolution on which France is entering. Many things incline him toward the King's party. He is in Paris on that memorable June 10 when the King is deposed. He sees the terrible events of the 10th of August. While he sympathizes with the King, he perceives that the great question is one of the nation rather than the individual.

Intelligent young men are greatly needed in the army. Napoleon's ability is known. He receives a captain's commission, signed by the King, though really given by the Revolutionary Government. Soon he is at Toulon, where, by acting on his advice, the French drive the English from the harbor in December, 1793.

The young man's prospects are brightening. There are only a few shadows on the picture. A revolution in Corsica drives his family to France, and while he feels his responsibility, Napoleon cannot yet do much for them.

Napoleon's talents impress all who come in contact with him. The time approaches when he is to reap the reward for all his years of patient study. Young Robespierre calls attention to his transcendent merit. Though he is not a Terrorist, he has many friends in the party, and after the fall of Robespierre the young Corsican spends nearly a fortnight in prison. Once more he loses his place in the army, in which he has been commissioned General. Discouraged, with nothing to do in Paris, he thinks of accepting an office from the Sultan. But Fortune is soon to favor him again. Not so very long after his release from prison we gaze on a thrilling scene. It is the 13th VendÉmiaire, year III, or October 15, 1795. The Directory under which the Government of France is now carried on has to face a revolt of the people and the National Guard. General Barras, who had observed Napoleon's great ability at Toulon, summons the young officer to help the Directory. Napoleon orders the artillery to sweep the Sections.

By this use of cannon, with fearful slaughter, the smaller force of the Government conquers the uprising. Next day Napoleon is mentioned by the Commander-in-Chief for his distinguished services, and shortly he becomes General-in-Chief of the Army of the Interior.

Picture after picture passes quickly before us, and always Napoleon is in the foreground. We see him now for the first time really enjoying society. The brusque and rather timid young officer is lionized in the drawing-room of Madame Tallien. There he meets the beautiful Josephine, widow of Alexandre de Beauharnais, and soon asks her to marry him.

It is said that Napoleon first became interested in Josephine through her sending her son EugÈne to ask him to secure for him the sword of his father who had been put to death during the Reign of Terror. But whether the story is true or not, certainly Napoleon always has the greatest affection for EugÈne and his sister Hortense. Napoleon's family are now in Paris. They share equally in the prosperity that has come to him. He lavishes on his mother all that she will accept. It pains him that neither she nor his brothers and sisters are pleased with his marriage.

Two days after the wedding, Napoleon leaves Josephine to cross the Apennines as Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Italy. We see the Italians running before those whom they had contemptuously called the "rag heroes." The French win victory after victory. Arcola, Lodi, Milan—eighteen pitched battles, forty-seven smaller engagements. Everywhere Napoleon is the idol, not only of his own soldiers, but of a large number of Italians, who hope through him to gain political liberty.

When, after the Treaty of Campo Formio, Napoleon returns to Paris in December, 1797, France is at his feet, rejoicing in the glory that comes to her through victories, rejoicing in the treasures of art that the young conqueror had brought back to adorn the Paris museums.

The scene changes—Napoleon is setting out for Egypt. He hopes to weaken England by attacking her power in the East. He hopes to strengthen himself in the eyes of the French by winning new victories. For idolized though he is by the French people, he realizes their fickleness, and he knows that the Directory is jealous of him. This expedition has not the brilliancy of the Italian campaign. He does not succeed in disabling the British, the French fleet meets fearful disaster. On land the French army suffers terribly from pestilence. But Napoleon has many scientific men with him on this expedition, and science gains greatly by this Egyptian campaign. Then by chance he learns that there is the utmost political discontent in France. Almost secretly he sails away from Egypt. We see him in Paris by the middle of October, 1799. His enemies are astonished. But Napoleon's hour has come. The famous coup d'État follows, and in less than two months after his return from Egypt, Napoleon has become temporary Dictator of France. His title is First Consul, but many shake their heads and murmur that Napoleon, instead of serving the term prescribed by law, means to make himself Consul for life.

Yet whatever Napoleon's ambitions may be, it is clear that France needs a strong man at the head of the Government. Then as we observe the clear eye and firm bearing of the young Corsican, it is evident that no one abler than he can be found to direct the work of upbuilding the country.

Our picture of France shows no longer a scene of confusion, of chaos, although much must be done before the Republic can hold her own—except in war—with other great nations.

Napoleon is tired of war, but those Powers to whom he suggests peace are not ready to accept his overtures. They are more willing to listen to him after his Austrian campaign, when Marengo and LunÉville are added to the French victories.

The Peace of Amiens gives Europe a breathing spell—for no one believes that this peace will last forever.

Perhaps among all our pictures of Napoleon there is hardly one more pleasing than this of his First Consulate, when we see him walking among his gorgeously attired officers, noticeable for the simplicity of his attire. For in spite of the example of extravagant dress set by others, he is content with the plain uniform of a colonel of grenadiers or of the light infantry.

"His address is the finest I have ever seen," writes one who meets him at this time, "and said by those who have travelled to exceed not only every Prince and Potentate now in being, but even all those whose memory has come down to us.... While he speaks, his features are still more expressive than his words."

This is the Napoleon whom Betsy knew—this man whose simple, pleasing manners drew every one to him—every one at least whom he wished to attract. Had he cared to make the effort he might even have won Sir Hudson Lowe.

For in those earlier days, before his downfall, many an Englishman, with a deeply rooted prejudice against Napoleon, on visiting Paris, like the writer of the above, found his prejudices melt away like snow in summer.