eshly-gathered flowers, and upon the mantel-shelf a
simple pendule, two alabaster vases, and double-branched
girandoles. Unite elegance to variety, but no profusion.
Nothing is more opposed to good taste. In short, I confide
to you the care of rendering this cherished spot an
agreeable retreat, where I may meditate, sleep it may be,
but oftenest read, which last is sufficient to remind you of
three hundred volumes of my small edition."

When Josephine first retired to Malmaison, where every thing reminded
her of the emperor, her grief for many months continued unabated.
To divert her attention, Napoleon conferred upon her the palace of
Navarre. This was formerly a royal residence, and was renowned for its
magnificent park. During the Revolution it had become much dilapidated.
The elegant chateau was situated in the midst of the romantic forest of
Evreux. The spacious grounds were embellished by parks, whose venerable
trees had withstood the storms of centuries, and by beautiful streams
and crystal lakes. The emperor gave Josephine nearly three hundred
thousand dollars to repair the buildings and the grounds. The taste of
Josephine soon converted the scene into almost a terrestrial Eden, and
Navarre, being far more retired than Malmaison, became her favorite
residence.

Soon after Josephine had taken up her residence at Navarre, she wrote
the following letter to Napoleon, which pleasingly illustrates the
cordiality of friendship which still existed between them.

"SIRE,--I received this morning the welcome note which was
written on the eve of your departure for St. Cloud, and
hasten to reply to its tender and affectionate contents.
These, indeed, do not in themselves surprise me, but only
as being received so early as fifteen days after my
establishment here, so perfectly assured was I that your
attachment would search out the means of consoling me under
a separation necessary to the tranquillity of both. The
thought that your care follows me into my retreat renders it
almost agreeable.

"After having known all the rapture of a love that is
shared, and all the suffering of a love that is shared no
longer--after having exhausted all the pleasures that
supreme power can confer, and all the happiness of beholding
the man whom I loved enthusiastically admired, is there
aught else, save repose, to be desire