When I consider how many deaths and how much suffering he caused, I cannot imagine singing a love song about Bonaparte.

A few years ago I picked up a library book about the translation of Egyptian hieroglyphics. Attendant upon the story of the Rosetta Stone, the book told of the terrible suffering of French soldiers who were simply set down on Egyptian sands with no water anywhere. It was not only terrible, it was utterly brainless. How dare Bonaparte not even inquire what kind of land was there?

The man who did most of the cracking of hieroglyphics was Jean Francois Champollion. His brother was a newspaper publisher, and he was often in danger of imprisonment because he was trying to determine how many Frenchmen were being killed in Bonaparte's wars. Bonaparte and his authorities did not want that number getting out.