.]

The divinity who could awaken such ardor in a Napoleon was in reality
six years older than her suitor, and Lucien proves by his exaggeration
of four years that she certainly looked more than her real age. She
had no fortune, though by the subterfuges of which a clever woman
could make use she led Buonaparte to think her in affluent
circumstances. She had no social station; for her drawing-room, though
frequented by men of ancient name and exalted position, was not graced
by the presence of their wives. The very house she occupied had a
doubtful reputation, having been a gift to the wife of Talma the actor
from one of her lovers, and being a loan to Mme. Beauharnais from
Barras. She had thin brown hair, a complexion neither fresh nor faded,
expressive eyes, a small retrousse nose, a pretty mouth, and a voice
that charmed all listeners. She was rather undersized, but her figure
was so perfectly proportioned as to give the impression of height and
suppleness. Its charms were scarcely concealed by the clothing she
wore, made as it was in the suggestive fashion of the day, with no
support to the form but a belt, and as scanty about her shoulders as
it was about her shapely feet. It appears to have been her elegance
and her manners, as well as her sensuality, which overpowered
Buonaparte; for he described her as having "the calm and dignified
demeanor which belongs to the old regime."

What motives may have combined to overcome her scruples we cannot
tell; perhaps a love of adventure, probably an awakened ambition for a
success in other domains than the one which advancing years would soon
compel her to abandon. She knew that Buonaparte had no fortune
whatever, but she also knew, on the highest authority, that both favor
and fortune would by her assistance soon be his. At all events, his
suit made swift advance, and by the end of January, 1796, he was
secure of his prize. His love-letters, to judge from one which has
been preserved, were as fiery as the despatches with which he soon
began to electrify his soldiers and all France. "I awaken full of
thee," he wrote; "thy portrait and yester eve's intoxicating charm
have left my senses no repose. Sweet and matchless Josephine, how
strange your influence upon my heart! Are you angry, do I see you sad,
are you uneasy, ... my soul is moved with grief, and there is no rest
for your friend; but is there then more when, yielding to an
overmastering desire, I draw from your lips,