Demetrius only snapped his fingers, as Alexander shrugged his shoulders,
in contempt of what they considered Napoleon's countrified way.

But all this show of pomp and luxury really troubled this boy, who had
long before learned the value of money and the need of self-denial.
Indeed, it worried him so much that one day he sat down and wrote a
letter which he intended to send as a protest to the minister of war,
actually lecturing that high and mighty officer, and "giving him points"
on the proper way to educate boys in the French military schools.

Fortunately for him, he sent the letter first to his old instructor, the
principal of the Brienne school. And the instructor--even though he,
perhaps, agreed with this boy-critic--saw how foolish and hurtful for
Napoleon's interest it would be to send such a surprising letter; and
he promptly suppressed it. But the letter still exists; and a curious
epistle it is for a fifteen-year-old boy 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