to write. Here is a part of it:

"The king's scholars," so Napoleon wrote to the minister, "could only
learn in this school, in place of qualities of the heart, feelings of
vanity and self-satisfaction to such an extent, that, on returning to
their own homes, they would be far from sharing gladly in the simple
comfort of their families, and would perhaps blush for their fathers
and mothers, and despise their modest country surroundings. Instead of
maintaining a large staff of servants for these pupils, and giving them
every day meals of several courses, and keeping up an expensive stable
full of horses and grooms, would it not be better, Mr. Minister--of
course without interrupting their studies--to compel them to look after
their own wants themselves? That is to say, without compelling them
to really do their own cooking, would it not be wise to have them eat
soldiers' bread or something no better, to accustom them to beat and
brush their own clothes, to clean their own boots and shoes, and
do other things equally useful and self-helpful? If they were thus
accustomed to a sober life, and to be particular about their appearance,
they would become healthier and stronger; they could support with
courage the hardships of war, and inspire with respect and blind
devotion the soldiers who would have to serve under their orders." How
do you think the grand minister of war would have felt to get such a
lecturing on discipline from a boy at school? and what do you imagine
the boys would have done had they heard that one of their schoolmates
had written a letter, suggesting that they be deprived of their
pleasures and pamperings? It was lucky for young Napoleon that the
principal at Brienne got hold of the letter before it was forwarded to
the war minister.

But then, as you have heard before, Napoleon was an odd boy. He thought
so himself when he grew to be a man, and he laughed at the recollection
of his manners. He laid it all, however, to the responsibility he had
felt, even from the day when he was a little fellow, because of the
needs of his hard-pushed family in Corsica. "All these cares," he once
said, looking back over his boy-life, "spoiled my early years; they
influenced my temper, and made me grave before my time."

Even if he did not send that critical and most unwise letter for a boy
of his standing, the insight he gained into the expensive ways of the
pupils at the military school had its effect upon him; and th