ence of all but her. After putting on the crown, he raised it,
and placing it more lightly on, regarded her the while with looks of
fond admiration. On the morning of the coronation, Napoleon had sent for
Raguideau the notary, who little thought that he had been summoned into
the august presence to be reminded of what had passed on the occasion of
their last meeting, and of which he had no idea the emperor was in
possession. While Napoleon had been paying his addresses to Josephine,
they walked arm-in-arm to the notary's, for neither of them could boast
of a carriage. "You are a great fool," replied the notary to Josephine,
who had just communicated her intention of marrying the young officer:
"you are a great fool, and you will live to repent it. You are about to
marry a man who has nothing but his cloak and his sword." Napoleon, who
was waiting in the ante-chamber, overheard these words, but never spoke
of them to any one. "Now," said Napoleon, with a smile, addressing the
old man, who had been ushered into his presence: "now, what say you,
Raguideau? have I nothing but my cloak and sword?" The empress and the
notary both stood amazed at this first intimation that the warning had
been overheard.

The following year, the magnificent coronation at Milan took place,
surpassing, if possible, in grandeur that at Paris. Amidst the
gorgeousness of that spectacle, however, there were few by whom it was
not forgotten in the far deeper interest which the principal actors in
the scene inspired. Amidst the blaze of beauty and of jewels, and the
strains of music, by which he was surrounded, what were the feelings of
Napoleon, as he held within his grasp the iron crown of Charlemagne,
which had reposed in the treasury of Monza for a thousand years, and for
which he had so ardently longed. Even at that moment, when he placed it
on his own head, were the aspirings of the ambitious spirit
satisfied?--or were not his thoughts taking a wider range of conquest
than he had yet achieved? And for her, who knelt at his feet, about to
receive the highest honor that mortal hands can confer--did the pomp and
circumstance of that scene, and the glory of the crown, satisfy her
loving heart? Ah, surely no! It was away in the sweet retirement of
Malmaison--amidst the scenes hallowed by Napoleon's early affection. And
how few years were to elapse ere the crown just placed on the head of
Josephine was to be transferred to another!--when the place whic