er habitudes of society, and whose families were distinguished among
the noblesse of the kingdom.

Duroc, the chief aide-de-camp of the General, was appointed governor
of the palace; and it was said that the Consul himself studied all the
ancient ceremonial of the old Court, and ordained that every etiquette
of royalty should be resumed with the most unerring accuracy. The
chamberlains were represented by prefects of the palace; and Josephine
had her ladies of honor, like any princess of the blood royal.

The Consul, still imitating the observances of the Bourbons, had
his _petits levers_ and his grand receptions; and if the new-created
functionaries possessed little of the courteous ease and high-bred
habitudes of the old Court, there was in their hard-won honors--most of
them promoted on the very field of battle--that which better suited the
prejudices of the period, and scarcely less became the gilded saloons of
the Tuileries.

Like all newly-organized societies, the machinery worked ill at
first. Few if any of them had ever seen a Court; and the proud but yet
respectful obedience which characterized the French gentleman in the
presence of his sovereign was converted into an obsequious and vulgar
deference towards Bonaparte, equally opposite to the true type, as it
was foreign to the habits, of the blunt soldier who proffered it.

But what, after all, signified these blemishes? There was beauty: never
in the brighter annals of France had more lovely women filled those
gorgeous saloons. There was genius, heroism: the highest chivalry of
the great nation could scarce vie with the proud deeds of those grouped
around him,--the mighty one on whom each eye was fixed. And if, as M.
Talleyrand remarked, there were those who knew not how to walk on
the waxed floor of a palace, few could tread more finely the field of
battles, and step with firmer foot the path that led to glory. Yet,
with all the First Consul's pride in those whose elevation to rank and
dignity was his own work, his predilections leaned daily more and more
towards the high and polished circles of the Faubourg St. Germain. The
courteous and easy politeness of Talleyrand, the chivalrous and courtly
bearing of the Comte de Narbonne, and the graceful elegance of Segur's
manners, formed too striking a contrast with the soldierlike rudeness
of the newly-promoted generals, not to make a profound impression on
one who could, in the deepest and weightiest concerns