"But," the archangels say, "he is not a man; he is made of sand."

The Lord God replies: "Then you think he didn't receive a soul when my
water of life fell on his head?"

Napoleonder at once gathered together a great army speaking twelve
languages, and went forth to war. He conquered the Germans, he conquered
the Turks, he subdued the Swedes and the Poles. He reaped as he marched,
and left bare the country through which he passed. And all the time he
remembers the condition of success--pity for none. He cuts off heads,
burns villages, outrages women, and tramples children under his horses'
hoofs. He desolates the whole Mohammedan kingdom--and still he is not
sated. Finally he marches on a Christian country--on Holy Russia.

In Russia then the Tsar was Alexander the Blessed--the same Tsar who
stands now on the top of the column in Petersburg-town and blesses the
people with a cross, and that's why he is called "the Blessed."

When he saw Napoleonder marching against him with twelve languages,
Alexander the Blessed felt that the end of Russia was near. He called
together his generals and field-marshals, and said to them: "Messrs.
Generals and Field-marshals, how can I check this Napoleonder? He is
pressing us terribly hard."

The generals and field-marshals reply: "We can't do anything, your
Majesty, to stop Napoleonder, because God has given him a word."

"What kind of a word?"