Napoleon
would, however, have been one or two days in Paris before Josephine
could, by any possibility, re-enter the city. Probably in all France,
there was not, at that time, a more unhappy woman than Josephine.
Secret wretchedness was also gnawing at the heart of Napoleon.
Who has yet fathomed the mystery of human love! Intensest love and
intensest hate can, at the same moment, intertwine their fibres
in inextricable blending. In nothing is the will so impotent as
in guiding or checking the impulses of this omnipotent passion.
Napoleon loved Josephine with that almost superhuman energy which
characterized all the movements of his impetuous spirit. The stream
did not fret and ripple over a shallow bed, but it was serene
in its unfathomable depths. The world contained but two objects
for Napoleon, glory and Josephine; glory first, and then, closely
following the more substantial idol.
Many of the Parisian ladies, proud of a more exalted lineage than
Josephine could boast, were exceedingly envious of the supremacy
she had attained in consequence of the renown of her husband. Her
influence over Napoleon was well known.
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