Joey
November 7th 07, 07:51 AM
abdication, Louis Bonaparte has become
a true king; in renouncing his crown, he has shown himself worthy to
wear it. He is the first monarch who has made so great a sacrifice but
of pure love for his people; others have also relinquished their
thrones, but they did it when weary of power. But in this action of the
King of Holland there is something truly sublime--something that was not
duly appreciated at first, but which will be admired by posterity, if I
mistake not, greatly[19]."
[Footnote 19: Memoires d'une Femme de Qualite, vol. v., p. 47.]
In Graetz, Louis Bonaparte, Count de St. Leu, lived a few peaceful,
tranquil years, perhaps the first years of happiness he had enjoyed in
his short and hitherto stormy life. Occupied with work and study, he
easily forgot his former grandeur and importance. As it had once been
his ambition to become a good king, it was now his ambition to become a
good writer. He published his romance Marie, and, encouraged by the
success which it met with in his circle of friends, he also gave his
poems to the public--poems whose tender and passionate language proved
that this so often misunderstood, so often repulsed, and, therefore, so
timid and distrustful heart, could warm with a tenderness of love that
Marie Pascal, the beautiful artist of the harp, could hardly have had
th
a true king; in renouncing his crown, he has shown himself worthy to
wear it. He is the first monarch who has made so great a sacrifice but
of pure love for his people; others have also relinquished their
thrones, but they did it when weary of power. But in this action of the
King of Holland there is something truly sublime--something that was not
duly appreciated at first, but which will be admired by posterity, if I
mistake not, greatly[19]."
[Footnote 19: Memoires d'une Femme de Qualite, vol. v., p. 47.]
In Graetz, Louis Bonaparte, Count de St. Leu, lived a few peaceful,
tranquil years, perhaps the first years of happiness he had enjoyed in
his short and hitherto stormy life. Occupied with work and study, he
easily forgot his former grandeur and importance. As it had once been
his ambition to become a good king, it was now his ambition to become a
good writer. He published his romance Marie, and, encouraged by the
success which it met with in his circle of friends, he also gave his
poems to the public--poems whose tender and passionate language proved
that this so often misunderstood, so often repulsed, and, therefore, so
timid and distrustful heart, could warm with a tenderness of love that
Marie Pascal, the beautiful artist of the harp, could hardly have had
th