every part of France
congratulations upon his accession to the throne, while I myself sighed
in contemplating the immense power he had acquired. The more I saw him
loaded with the gifts of Fortune, the more I feared his fall."

The court of France had for ages been the scene of the most voluptuous
and unblushing vice. The whole nation had been corrupted by its
influence. Dissipation had been rendered attractive by the grace with
which it had been robed. The dissolute manners which had prevailed at
Versailles, the Tuilleries, and St. Cloud no pen can describe. Napoleon
determined that, at all hazards, his court should be reputable at least
in outward morality. He was more scrupulous upon this point even than
Josephine herself. Believing that the downfall of the Bourbons was
caused, in no inconsiderable degree, by the dissolute lives of the
nobles and the courtiers, he would give no one an appointment among the
royal retinue whose character was not, in his judgment, above reproach.

The Duchess d'Aiguillon had been a fellow-captive of Josephine, and,
after their liberation from prison, had greatly befriended her. During
the license of those times, in which all the restraints of Christian
morality had been swept away, her character had not remained perfectly
spotless. She and her husband had availed themselves of the facile
liberty of divorce which the laws had encouraged, and had formed other
unions. Josephine felt grateful for the many favors she had received
from the duchess, and wished to testify this gratitude by receiving her
at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Josephine wrote to her in the
following terms:

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I am deeply afflicted. My former friends,
supposing that I am able to obtain the fulfillment of all
my wishes, must suppose that I have forgotten the past.
Alas! it is not so. I remember it too well, and my thoughts
dwell upon it more than I would have them. The more I think
of what my friends did for me, the greater is my sorrow at
being unable to do now what my heart dictates. The Empress
of France is but the first slave in the empire, and can not
pay the debts of Madame de Beauharnais. This constitutes the
torture of my life, and will explain why you do not occupy a
place near me. The emperor, indignant at the total disregard
of morality, and alarmed at the progress it might still
make, is resolved that the example of a