superstitious--and a government whose Three Graces are Tyranny, Rapacity,

Blood. Here in brilliant Paris, under this majestic Arch of Triumph, the

First Century greets the Nineteenth!

NAPOLEON III., Emperor of France! Surrounded by shouting thousands, by

military pomp, by the splendors of his capital city, and companioned by

kings and princes--this is the man who was sneered at and reviled and

called Bastard--yet who was dreaming of a crown and an empire all the

while; who was driven into exile--but carried his dreams with him; who

associated with the common herd in America and ran foot races for a

wager--but still sat upon a throne in fancy; who braved every danger to

go to his dying mother--and grieved that she could not be spared to see

him cast aside his plebeian vestments for the purple of royalty; who kept

his faithful watch and walked his weary beat a common policeman of

London--but dreamed the while of a coming night when he should tread the

long-drawn corridors of the Tuileries; who made the miserable fiasco of

Strasbourg; saw his poor, shabby eagle, forgetful of its lesson, refuse

to perch upon his shoulder; delivered his carefully prepared, sententious

burst of eloquence upon unsympathetic ears; found himself a prisoner, the

butt of small wits, a mark for the pitiless ridicule of all the world

--yet went on dreaming of coronations and splendid pageants as before; who

lay a forgotten captive in the dungeons of Ham--and still schemed and

planned and pondered over future glory and future power; President of

France at last! a coup d'etat, and surrounded by applauding armies,

welcomed by the thunders of cannon, he mounts a throne and waves before

an astounded world the sceptre of a mighty empire! Who talks of the

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The Innocents Abroad