circumstances that will satisfy our biographical contemplation; 
listen, for we now proceed. 
n 1796, one hundred years before I was born, I can see 
Josephine driving along the lovely road from Milan, along the 
crystal waters of Lake Como to Lake Maggiore, the romantic 
lake being embosomed among the mountains, with its densely 
wooded islands and picturesque shores, which is a favorite re- 
sort for her excursions and pleasures. Here in gay parties, she 
floated in boats with well trained rowers, silken awnings, 
streaming pennants, and ravishing music. The island of Isola 
Bella, Beautiful Islands, with its arcades, hanging gardens, 
and its palaces of monkish gloom, was one of her favorites 
also; here she partook of refreshments and engaged with all 
Vivacity in rural festivities. 
I can see her amid the splendor of the royal court, the pleas- 
ure-loving Italians filling her saloon; I see the most illustrious 
nobles emulous to win her favor, that they might obtain 
eminence in the service in her renowned spouse, Napoleon 
onaparte; I can see her at the fetes and entertainments she 
gave to the rejoicing Milanese whereupon she obtained access 
to almost every mind it was desirable to influence. She moved 
Vesti the dazzling scenes of her court, scenes of unaccus- 
tomed brilliance which had so suddenly burst upon her, with 
an air as entirely natural and unembarrassed as if her whole 
life had been passed in the saloons of monarchs. Here she 
conversed with the most distinguished generals of armies, with 
statesmen and scholars of widespread renown, with a fluency, 
appropriateness, and an inimitable tact which would seem to 
indicate that she had been cradled in the lap of princes and 
nurtured in the society of courts. 
Josephine, so beautifully called “The Star of Napoleon,” was 
more than the harbinger of his rising; she gave additional lus- 
ter to his bril 
liance and was as the gentle Zephyr, which sweeps 
away the mists and vapors, and presents a transparent sky 
through which the undimmed luminary may shine. On the 
other hand, no one could be insensible to the power of her 
attractions, for the music of her voice, the sweetness of her 
smile, the grace of her manners, all excited so much admira- 
tion, invested her with a popularity so universal and enthu- 
Siastic, that Napoleon was, at times, not a little disturbed by 
jealousy. 
In 1800, two years before the birth of Alexander Dumas, 
pere, that great writer of France, the greatest the world has 
ever produced, in 1800, February 19th, Josephine was the wife 
of the First Consul. Here we see her enter the Tuileries, the 
gorgeously-illuminated apartments of the palace, leaning upon 
the arm of Talleyrand, she being dressed in the elegance of the 
most perfect simplicity, while a murmur of admiration arose 
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