But you must do something for Joseph. Good-by, my dear father. I hope
you will decide to send Joseph here to Brienne, rather than to Metz. It
will be a pleasure for us to be together; and, as Joseph knows nothing
of mathematics, if you send him to Metz, he will have to begin with the
little children; and that, I know, will disgust him. I hope, therefore,
that before the end of October I shall embrace Joseph."

That is a nice, brotherly letter, is it not? It does not sound like the
boy who was always ready to quarrel and fight with brother Joseph,
nor does it seem to be from a sulky, disagreeable boy. This spirit of
looking out for his family was one of the traits of Napoleon's character
that was noticeable alike in the boy, the soldier, the commander, and
the emperor.

Indeed, the very spirit of self-denial in which this letter, an extract
from which you have just read, was written, was not only characteristic
of this remarkable man of whose boy-life this story tells, but it led in
his school-days at Brienne to a change that affected his whole life.

One day there came to the school the Chevalier de Keralio, inspector of
military schools--a sort of committee man as you would say in America.
It was the duty of the inspector to look into the record, and arrange
for the promotions, of "the king's wards," as the boys and girls were
called who were educated at the expense of the state. He was, in some
way, attracted to this sober, silent, and sad-eyed little Corsican, and
inquired into his history. He rather liked the boy's appearance, odd as
it was. He took quite a fancy to the young Napoleon, talked with him,
questioned him, and outlined to the teachers at Brienne what he thought
should be the future course of the lad.